A man exhausted by Narzan. We explain all the incomprehensible words from the battle of oxymiron and purulent
Knowing the biography and geography of our writers, and many other decent people who spoke and speak Russian, you will inevitably wonder whether it is the chemical composition of mineral water that determines the breadth and mystery of the Russian soul.
Whoever did not go to the waters in Baden-Baden like Turgenev or Dostoevsky was certainly exiled to Sour Waters in the Caucasus like Lermontov or Pushkin.
“We scooped boiling water with a bark ladle or the bottom of a broken bottle,” wrote Alexander Sergeevich.
And one modern Russian writer was so amazed that in Switzerland there is ordinary, that is, not only mineral water, that he even shared his impressions in a respected magazine. Here you go, read it, it’s interesting.
Drinking mineral water as a special math school is a normal reason for quiet snobbery. In times of fast food and sparkling water, this is an adequate reason for pride, an opportunity to benefit yourself, as well as an excellent life hack for preparing some dishes.
There are a great variety of mineral waters - in some you can take baths, in others you can treat old-fashioned melancholy and gout, or modern cellulite and depression.
We are only interested in those that have a place on the dining table or in the kitchen, that is, table mineral waters.
They have a low degree of mineralization, that is, their use will not bring unexpected changes to your well-being. But if you choose mineral water, then you should pay attention not only to the taste, but also to the therapeutic effect.
What is the beauty of using mineral water in cooking? This is water containing chemical elements, which, even without changing the taste, can properly affect the consistency of the dish or the speed of its preparation.
You can find out what chemical elements are contained in water and in what proportions on the label. There are hydrocarbonate, sulfate, chloride, magnesium, and ferruginous mineral waters.
We continue to celebrate the return of Borjomi water, so let’s talk about hydrocarbonate mineral waters following her example.
To be precise, Borjomi is carbonic bicarbonate sodium alkaline water. It is ideal for making meat more tender. Immerse it in it, like in a marinade, for three hours, and it will become extremely tender.
In principle, if you need to soften something faster, you can cook it with Borjomi; if it does affect the taste, it will be for the better.
The most famous magnesium waters are Narzan, Czech Prolom, Sulinka.
We have already written about how to use them to preserve the color of green beans and other green vegetables. By the way, this same group includes the once very popular “seltzer” German water Selters, which, as it seemed to Arkady Averchenko, even helps against revolution and other geopolitical problems.
Ferrous waters are less popular than table waters, although “Polyustrovskaya” water is not initially a liquid in the office cooler, but as aItalian physician of Peter I - an excellent remedy for nervous disorders.
Peter took this into account and ordered him to drink water, but he himself preferred Karlovy Vary, in honor of which its grateful residents erected a monument to him.
– Versus battle of Oxxxymiron and Gnoyny, we will explain everything that you most likely did not understand. At least we'll try. Believe me, it’s not easy for us either.
What other personality? That I drink urine? Or the fact that you met Sonia Grese?
This is post-truth territory, it doesn’t matter what information is real here.
What personalities are, the number of punches decides here!
Sonya Grese - allegedly ex-girlfriend Oksimiron, whom he met after he was married (to whom is unknown).
When Ernesto Shut Up battled Purulent, he said: “At 15, when you were initiated into punk, you drank urine from your sneaker.” And he answered him: “These were not sneakers, these were my “patrols”.”
Record the time of death - 17:03!
1703 – the year of the founding of St. Petersburg, hometown Mirona Fedorova. Also, 1703 is the name of the bar where Versus battles traditionally take place. And Oksimiron also has a tattoo on his neck - 1703.
You are not Slovo or Versus, a fake branch, impostors.
Die, Slovo SPB!
You are the budget version of Versus,
Purulent is a funny cosplay of me.
We are waiting for the cutscene of Cheney driving to the 1702 bar in a Lexus.
In the second round, Oksimiron criticized Slovo SPB (a battle team of Versus opponents), spoke about their envy of Versus and hypocrisy towards their “big brother” Slovo, from whom they once separated.
“Versus” begins with a similar screensaver. In it, the Restaurateur (creator, organizer and host of Versus) drives his BMW to 1703.
Cheney – Dan Cheney, organizer and host of Slovo SPB.
What? Did you root for Russia so much that you lost your ganglia on your nerves?
But when the rallies took place here, where were you sitting?
In England!
In his album “Gorgorod” Oksimiron criticized the political system modern Russia, but the rapper himself lived in the UK from the age of 15, where he graduated from Oxford.
I took away what you loved most, like kidnapping.
After all, thanks to me, grime in Russia means battles with fast flow!
Oksimiron is the main domestic grime artist, as he himself constantly reminds.
Kidnapping is the abduction of children (or people in general).
Fast flow - reading at speed, taking into account the rhythm.
Is everything memorized? Krasava, a man exhausted by Ramzan.
Here Miron refers to Gnoyny with Chechnya, when he read in a battle with Ernesto Shut Up: “But for fun I’m telling the truth: once after the operating section I told a Muslim woman that she had a pig’s heart.” It all ended with a public apology.
Don't trust the Jew
'Cause when he says he's throwing you a lifeline,
Your career is going downhill.
For those who want to understand jokes without wasting extra time.
To bookmarks
You're a budget version of Versus, you're a fun cosplay for me.
We are waiting for the cutscene where Cheney drives to the 1702 bar in a Lexus.
Oksimiron
Purulent: You don’t understand battles, you have four times less experience: if your lines were spoken by someone else, they would be worth nothing. And even now there are many inconsistencies in your tracks and rounds (you used to criticize Guf, and then started praising him). Battle rap is dead, you are not its father, and I want to be the automaton who kills this genre.
He has a lot of such ***** [garbage] in his text, because he goes into OFC.
After all, he serves it with the arrogant ***** [bread] of an expert.
“My flow is a DDoS attack, we have remote access”
A well-grounded humanist, we can’t fly to deep space with such specialists.
DDoS actually interferes with remote access.
Oksimiron answers the crowd: Ian, I checked this punch, why didn’t you tell me?
Round 3
Oksimiron: While I was on vacation, I read great book“Hero with a Thousand Faces”, which helped me get out of the dead end. Mythologies, books, movies, comics, and religions all have the same theme: the hero follows the voice, defeats the dragon, and returns home changed. So it is in a battle - a clash of archetypes. The dragon has no way of its own, you are the dragon, you are afraid of me and hide behind sarcasm. My entire battle was without swearing, because I don’t want to waste it on you. You are in my coordinate system and you will get out of there as soon as you come up with something of your own.
Slava, Slava, you are lively and affectionate, but pull my organ out of your throat.
You were just a rather long pear in my preparation for the Dizaster.
Oksimiron
Purulent: I've done more for grime than you in four years. I'm fine with being unknown, fuck the mainstream. You refused advertising in order to be offered more more money. Partnering with Reebok for the sake of money, making “Dom-2” out of a quarrel with LSP, pretending to be a man, forgetting about hatred in the tracks, starring in Zhigan’s film to please him, you are a traitor. No one will follow you, you are pretentious, talk only about yourself and lead the crowd to the bottom.
So, stadium rapper, where are you going?
You don't cut a window to the West. You are the Pied Piper of Hamelin, you are dragging everyone to the very bottom.
Like all yours new school, I've heard enough of this,
It was Sunday evening. Everything was clean and washed. Even Mashuk, overgrown with bushes and groves, seemed to be carefully combed and exhaled the smell of mountain vegetation.
White trousers of the most varied properties flashed along the toy platform: trousers made of matting, damn leather, kolomyanka, canvas and delicate flannel. People wore sandals and apache shirts here. The concessionaires in heavy dirty boots, heavy dusty trousers, hot vests and hot jackets felt like strangers. Among all the variety of cheerful outfits that the resort girls flaunted, the brightest and most elegant was the station master’s costume. To the surprise of all visitors, the station manager was a woman. Red curls burst out from under a red cap with two silver braids on the band. She wore a white uniform jacket and a white skirt.
Having admired the boss, read the freshly pasted poster about the Columbus Theater's tour in Pyatigorsk and drank two five-kopeck glasses of Narzan, the travelers entered the city on the tram line "Vokzal - Tsvetnik". For entrance to the "Flower Garden" from them They took ten kopecks.
In the Flower Garden there was a lot of music, a lot of cheerful people and very few flowers. In a white shell The symphony orchestra performed the “Dance of the Mosquitoes.” Narzan was sold at the Lermontov Gallery. Narzan was sold in kiosks and peddled.
Nobody cared about two dirty seekers diamonds.
“Eh, Kisa,” said Ostap, “we are strangers at this celebration of life.” The concessionaires spent their first night at the resort at the Narzan spring.
Only here, in Pyatigorsk, when the Columbus Theater staged its “Marriage” for the third time in front of astonished townspeople, did the companions understand the difficulty of chasing treasures. Infiltrate the theater like them assumed it was impossible. Backstage, Galkin, Palkin, Malkin, Chalkin and Zalkind spent the night, whose branded diet did not allow them to live in a hotel. So the days passed, and the friends were exhausted, spending the night at the site of Lermontov’s duel and subsisting on carrying the luggage of middle-class tourists.
On the sixth day, Ostap managed to make acquaintance with fitter Mechnikov, the head of the hydraulic press. By this time, Mechnikov, due to lack of money every day hungover Narzan from the source, came to terrible condition and, according to Ostap’s observation, he was selling some theatrical props at the market. The final agreement was reached at the morning libation at the source. Fitter Mechnikov called Ostap dusya and agreed.
It’s possible,” he said, “it’s always possible, darling.” With our pleasure, darling. Ostap immediately realized that the fitter was a great doc.
The contracting parties looked into each other's eyes, hugged, patted each other on the back and laughed politely.
Well! - said Ostap. - Behind it's all a matter of ten!
Dusya! - the fitter was surprised. - You make me angry. I am a man exhausted by Narzan.
How long are you wanted?
Put in half a hundred. After all, the property is state property. I'm a tired person.
Fine! Take twenty! Do you agree? Well, I can see in your eyes that they agree.
Consent is the product of complete non-resistance of the parties.
“Explains it well, dog,” Ostap whispered in Ippolit Matveyevich’s ear. - Study.
When will you bring the chairs?
Chairs against money.
“It’s possible,” Ostap said without thinking.
Money in advance, - said the fitter, - in the morning money - chairs in the evening, or money in the evening, and the next day in the morning - chairs.
Or maybe chairs today, money tomorrow? - Ostap tortured.
I, darling, am an exhausted person. The soul does not accept such conditions!
But I,” said Ostap, “only tomorrow I will receive the money by telegraph.”
Then we’ll talk,” concluded the stubborn fitter, “but for now, darling, happily stay at the source.” A I went. U I have a lot of work to do with the press. Simbievich takes it by the throat. I don't have enough strength. Can you really live on Narzan alone?
And Mechnikov, magnificently illuminated by the sun, left. Ostap looked sternly at Ippolit Matveyevich.
The time, he said, that we have is money that we do not have. Kisa, we have to make a career. One hundred and fifty thousand rubles and zero zero kopecks lie in front of us. We only need twenty rubles for the treasure to become ours. There is no need to disdain any means here. Hit or miss. I choose the gentleman, although he is clearly a Pole.
Ostap thoughtfully walked around Ippolit Matveyevich.
Take off your jacket, leader, be quick,” he said unexpectedly.
Ostap took the jacket from the surprised Ippolit Matveyevich's hands, threw it to the ground and began to trample it with dusty boots.
What are you doing? - Vorobyaninov yelled. - I’ve been wearing this jacket for fifteen years, and it’s still like new!
Don't worry! It won't be as good as new soon! Give me your hat! Now sprinkle your trousers with dust and sprinkle them with narzan. Alive!
Within a few minutes Ippolit Matveyevich became disgustingly dirty.
Now you have matured and acquired the full opportunity to earn money through honest work.
What should I do? - Vorobyaninov asked tearfully.
You know French, I hope?
Very bad. Within the gymnasium course.
Hm... We'll have to operate within these limits. Can you say the following phrase in French: “Gentlemen, I haven’t eaten for six days”?
Monsieur,” Ippolit Matveyevich began, stuttering, “monsieur, hm, hm... isn’t it, perhaps, not mange pas... six, as it is, en, de, trois, quatre, senk, sis... sis... zhur. So - it’s not mange pas sis jour!
What a pronunciation you have, Kisa! However, what can you ask from a beggar? Of course, the beggar European Russia speaks French worse than Millerand. Well, Kisulya, to what extent do you know German?
Why do I need all this? - Ippolit Matveevich exclaimed.
Then,” Ostap said weightily, “that you will now go to the “Flower Garden”, stand in the shadows and beg for alms in French, German and Russian, emphasizing that you are a former member of the State Duma from the cadet faction. All net proceeds will go to fitter Mechnikov. Got it?
Ippolit Matveevich instantly transformed. His chest arched like the Palace Bridge in Leningrad, his eyes flashed fire, and, as it seemed to Ostap, thick smoke poured out of his nostrils. The mustache slowly began to rise.
Ay-yay-yay, - said great schemer, not at all afraid. - Look at him. Not a person, but some kind of hunchbacked horse.
Never,” Ippolit Matveyevich suddenly began to ventriloquize, “never has Vorobyaninov extended his hand...
So stretch your legs, you old fool! - Ostap shouted. -You didn’t extend your hands?
Didn't hold out.
How do you like this gigoloism? He lives on my account for three months! For three months I have been feeding him, singing and raising him, and this gigolo is now in third position and declares that he... Well! Enough, comrade! One of two things: either you go to the Flower Garden right now and bring ten rubles by evening, or I will automatically exclude you from the number of shareholders-concessionaires. I count to five. Yes or no? Once...
Yes,” muttered the leader.
In this case, repeat the spell.
Monsieur, it’s not mange pas sis jour. Goeben world of zi bitte etvas kopek auf dem stück ford. Give something to the former State Duma deputy.
Again. More pathetic. Ippolit Matveevich repeated.
OK then. Your talent for begging has been ingrained since childhood. Go. Meeting at the spring at midnight. This, keep in mind, is not for romance, but simply served more in the evening.
“And you,” asked Ippolit Matveevich, “where are you going?”
Don't worry about me. I act, as always, in the most difficult place. The friends went their separate ways.
Ostap ran to a stationery shop, bought a receipt book there with his last dime, and sat on a stone pedestal for about an hour, renumbering the receipts and signing on each of them.
First of all, the system,” he muttered, “every public penny must be taken into account. The great strategist moved at a shooting pace along the mountain road leading around Mashuk to the place of Lermontov’s duel with Martynov. Past sanatoriums and rest houses, overtaken by buses and two-horse carriages, Ostap came to Proval.
A small gallery carved into the rock led to a cone-shaped (cone up) failure. The gallery ended with a balcony, standing on which one could see at the bottom failure a small puddle of malachite-smelling liquid. This Proval is considered a landmark of Pyatigorsk, and therefore a considerable number of excursions and single tourists visit it per day.
Ostap immediately found out that Failure for a person devoid of prejudices can be a profitable source of income.
“It’s amazing,” Ostap reflected, “how the city has not yet figured out how to charge ten kopecks for entering Proval. It seems, the only thing, where Pyatigorsk residents allow tourists without money. I will destroy this shameful stain on the city’s reputation, I will correct this unfortunate omission.”
And Ostap acted as his reason, healthy instinct and the current situation told him.
He stopped at the entrance to Proval and, shaking the receipt book in his hands, cried out from time to time:
Get your tickets, citizens. Ten kopecks! Children and Red Army soldiers are free! Students - five kopecks! Non-union members - thirty kopecks.
Ostap was sure to hit. Pyatigorsk residents did not go to Proval, and it was not the slightest difficulty to rip off ten kopecks from a Soviet tourist for entry “somewhere.” By about five o'clock I had already collected six rubles. It was not the members of the union, of whom there were many in Pyatigorsk, who helped. Everyone trustingly gave their ten-kopeck coins, and one ruddy tourist, seeing Ostap, said triumphantly to his wife:
Do you see, Tanyusha, what I told you yesterday? And you said that you don’t have to pay to enter the Proval. Can not this be! Really, comrade?
“It’s absolutely true,” Ostap confirmed, “this can’t happen without charging for admission.” Members union- ten kopecks. Children and Red Army soldiers are free. Students - five kopecks and non-union members - thirty kopecks.
Before evening, an excursion of Kharkov policemen arrived at Proval in two trains. Ostap was frightened and wanted to pretend to be an innocent tourist, but the policemen so timidly crowded around the great schemer that there was no way to retreat. Therefore, Ostap shouted in a rather firm voice:
Members union- ten kopecks, but since police representatives can be equated to students and children, then five kopecks from them.
The police paid, delicately inquiring for what purpose the nickels were being collected.
With the aim of overhaul Failure,” Ostap answered boldly, “so as not to be too failed.
While the great schemer was deftly selling the view of the malachite puddle, Ippolit Matveyevich, hunched over and wallowing in shame, stood under the acacia tree and, without looking at the walkers, chewed the three phrases handed to him:
- Monsieur, no mange... Geben zi mir bitte... Serve something to the State Duma deputy... They served the wrong thing so that not much, but somehow sad. However, playing on the purely Parisian pronunciation of the word “mange” and stirring souls with the plight of the former State Duma member, he managed to grab three rubles worth of coppers.
The gravel crackled under the walkers' feet. The orchestra performed Strauss, Brahms and Grieg with short breaks. The bright crowd, babbling, rolled past the old leader and returned back. Lermontov's shadow hovered invisibly over the citizens who were eating Matsoni buffet on the veranda. It smelled of cologne and narzan gases.
Give it to the former member of the State Duma! - the leader muttered.
Tell me, were you really a member of the State Duma? - rang out over Ippolit Matveyevich’s ear. - And you really went to the meetings? Oh! Oh! High class!
Ippolit Matveyevich raised his face and froze. In front of him plump Absalom Vladimirovich Iznurenkov was jumping like a sparrow. He exchanged his brownish Lodz suit for a white jacket and gray trousers with a playful sparkle. He was unusually animated and sometimes jumped five inches off the ground. Iznurenkov did not recognize Ippolit Matveyevich and continued to bombard him with questions:
Tell me, did you really see Rodzianko? Was Purishkevich really bald? Oh! Oh! What theme! High class!
Continuing to spin, Iznurenkov slipped three rubles to the confused leader and ran away. But for a long time in the “Flower Garden” his plump thighs flashed and it almost rained from the trees:
Oh! Oh! Don’t sing, beauty, in front of me you sing the songs of sad Georgia! Oh! Oh! They remind me of another life and a distant shore!.. Ah! Oh! And in the morning she smiled again!.. High class!..
Ippolit Matveyevich continued to stand, turning his eyes to the ground. And in vain he stood there. He didn't see much.
In the wonderful darkness of the Pyatigorsk night, Ellochka Shchukin walked along the alleys of the park, dragging behind her the obedient Ernest Pavlovich, who had reconciled with her. Trip to Kislye water was the last chord in a difficult struggle with Vanderbilt’s daughter. The proud American recently took her own yacht to the Sandwich Islands for entertainment purposes.
Ho-ho! - was heard in the silence of the night. - Famous, Ernestulya! C-r-beauty!
In the buffet, illuminated by many lamps, sat the blue thief Alkhen with his wife Sashkhen. Her cheeks were still decorated with St. Nicholas sideburns. Alkhen shyly ate Karski-style shish kebab, washing it down with Kakhetian No. 2, and Sashkhen, stroking her sideburns, waited for the sturgeon she ordered.
After liquidation of the second house Social Security(everything was sold, including even the chef’s hat and the slogan: “By chewing your food thoroughly, you help society”) Alchen decided to relax and have fun. Fate itself protected this well-fed swindler. He was planning to go to Proval that day, but didn’t have time. It saved him. Ostap would have milked no less than thirty rubles from the timid caretaker.
Ippolit Matveyevich wandered to the source only when the musicians were putting down their music stands, the festive audience was leaving and only loving couples were breathing heavily in their skinny alleys of the "Flower Garden".
How much did you collect? - Ostap asked when the bent figure of the leader appeared at the source.
Seven rubles twenty-nine kopecks. Three rubles in paper. The rest is copper and some silver.
Wonderful for the first tour! Responsible employee rate! You touch me, Kisa! But what fool gave you three rubles, I would like to know? Maybe you gave change?
Iznurenkov gave.
Are you kidding! Absalom? Look, you're a ball! Where did it go! Have you talked to him? Oh, he didn’t recognize you!..
I asked about the State Duma! Laughed!
You see, leader, being a beggar is not so bad, especially with a moderate education and a weak voice! Well, Kisochka, I didn’t waste my time in vain. Fifteen rubles is like one kopeck. Total - that's enough!
The next morning the fitter received the money and in the evening he brought two chairs. The third chair, he said, was absolutely impossible to take. On him sound design played cards.
For greater safety autopsies friends climbed almost to the very top of Mashuk.
Below, Pyatigorsk glowed with solid, motionless lights. Below Pyatigorsk, poor lights marked the village of Goryachevodskaya. On the horizon, Kislovodsk protruded from behind the mountain in two parallel dotted lines.
Ostap looked into the starry sky and took out the well-known pliers from his pocket.