Book: Duhless. The story of a fake man

You know what a commercial Director really? It's such a modern kind of expensive prostitutes, which veers between the interests of the management, with their inflated several times by the sales plans and the interests of his subordinates who do not want these plans to implement. Because, as befits contact with the prostitute, ***ut you several times a day, your whole task is to quickly bring the client (boss) to orgasm, ideally avoiding sex in the style of S&M (whipping for failure of tasks) and anal sex (there could be as lucky, without any additional bonuses).
Because I'm a professional ***s, and the range of services I have quite wide:
- classics (of which mentioned above);
- role play the customer (partner soccer team, a fishing enthusiast, a fan of Esenin, a fan of karaoke, joint programming for the weekend of the business plan);
is cunnilingus (for the arrival of the fiftieth fiscal headmistress from France);
- deep throating (this is my first line in the daily schedule marked "Not to overdo");
- lesbos (negotiations with the head of sales the head office in the presence of his boss);
- services for couples (every two years for the arrival of the owners of the holding company, BIG UNCLE from the city of Paris).

It is no secret that when watching someone else's depression, laced with severe alcohol/drug addiction, a catastrophic domestic problems and a complete lack of perspective, his own position in this life that seems unbearable to you, once filled with weight, significance and understanding of the fact that there are those who are worse.

..."Moscow" - the restaurant is very trendy and trendy restaurants go for anything. Go is - last.

Just you mind you, it's in Moscow, people choose between "Marik" and... what did you call it then?
- "Mario."
Yeah, that's it. Choose between the tavern and the tavern abruptly or choose between Maschke once or Petka twice, and in the province all the harder. Someone chooses between the "Baltic" six and "Baltika" number nine, but someone between milk and bread.

I clearly understand that the days of friendship were passionately in fifth grade, when you became a man "inseparable" after the first football game. In our age, it is not the case. And if I communicate with the person, it is either for joint interest/arrangement or due to my personal plans for him. Whether this happens because of my cynicism, whether because of the approaching thirty when you keep time with the ones acquired at this moment.

No one wants to talk about unpleasant things, it's too vulgar and too load.

All events and characters, all the filth and horrors described society invented by the author. Because the reality is even more disgusting and horrible...

We are all here alone. And we're dead.

Our parents, barely holding back the tears, watch as we take apart all the fact that they were so expensive. With horror and reverence, they freeze at the Windows of rooms in which we were born, in spite of what we do on the street. "What a pity, - they think it is a shame that of all the possible ways they chose the path of destruction."

Could I imagine that all this gray mass, which ran through the streets, going back at one point, and on their own? I think that the way it all turn? Did they? Really, nothing has changed? Or no, not so. Are we so nothing changed?

Only one way out - to hang myself, but we choose life because it's easier.

It's a shame to lose money, but even more painful to lose the person once considered a friend and now disintegrating before your eyes in rotten meat.

I catch myself thinking that he looked a very crappy movie. With a terrible script, and absolutely devoid of meaning. My only desire is to take the disk back to the rental and tell all their friends that they never seen it. Only one problem: the main character of this whole govnosayt - Y. It's disgusting, disgusting, scary to tremble at the knees. But the way it is.

To what extent should society degrade for some hundred years. If people used to solve global task - to take place in this life, then today their prepreparatory solve the problem of how to get to this club and to be held tonight. If at the beginning of the last century a community hero was a boy who stood at the origins of the revolution - Pavel Korchagin, today it was replaced by the boy standing at the entrance of the night club - the Pasha fejskontrol. He is being interviewed, he lighten up, says something stupid and gives advice on how to become a complete idiot. He, the Pasha fejskontrol, the true master of thoughts. After all, this night guard decides get you in the end in the world of mummies of sufficiently close have you gotten to him yet or not.
But the worst thing is not its existence. But the existence of that audience that is willing to read his nonsense, take as a guide to action his advice and volunteered to become mummies.