The Caucasus [Theme] Page 1

But magma heart beating in the depths,
And the blood of Seltzer hot
The cold of eternity does not destroy
Elbrus powerful shoulder.

Where the heart on this fly
The soul dissolving in the Caucasus.

I am very jealous of Caucasians. About them a lot of stereotypes. But they are all different. They are so different that it's impossible to judge one person. They are also the taxi drivers, lawyers, and dentists, the Italians.

When the morning still did not Wake up the light,
Silence at dawn and no cars.
All around fade no sound,
And on the throne sits the rest of the world.
When the peak of the mountain sits the clouds
That white mist can not see the edge.
And sighing deeply I look into the distance,
Understand that this is my Paradise.

I have nothing against Caucasians, I am half Armenian. I love how Caucasians are fighting. They do not, as a Russian. When you're arguing with the Russian, he says he'll do to you. When you're arguing with your Caucasian, he said that he, you and I made. You or someone from your family. If a Caucasian says something about your mother, he said that he already had relations with your mother. All he puts you before the fact. There is nothing you can do, you can't tell mom. "Hello, mother, where are you?" "I'm in a cab!" "As the driver name?" "Arsen". "Jump out!"

Caucasians who call themselves "mountaineers" comfortably. They swing for morality, I want to live by the laws of the middle Ages, but sitting in a "Helike" in the center of Moscow. Cool! They shake so much for morality all the time, call you. I have always said: "Caucasians, you can swing for morality exactly when you will retire from the "Tinder"!"

I don't blame these middle-aged women who are obsessed with sex and love Caucasians <...>. I understand. In Russia, unfortunately, the average woman is under-loved. She comes home tired from work with packages. She is usually an accountant. Comes and was like, "Well, I'm all yours, Arkady..." And Arkady told her this: "meow..." this tavern; the place where we, the Caucasians, live, this is the last parts of love that are left in the country. Because she was there waiting, and love. She come and she is there: "What kind of woman came to us! Cleopatra, from heaven sent to us as a blessing!" And so the boys she meets!

When was the last time you bought in a store of cheap and quality goods Chechen? Who ever bought products of the Chechen production? There are? No? No, it means, stores products of the Chechen production. I honestly have not seen in stores and goods Ingush, and Dagestani TV does not. I just don't see Adyghe electronics. And a lot of things I still do not see. I have a suspicion, my friends, that they do not produce there is no-thing... Maybe in the Caucasus, the Caucasians overproduction and underproduction of everything else? It's time to put an end to this strange economic model.

Time - it was under Giami,
We passed through a dark forest;
Fire breathing, burning above us
Azure bright heavens.
We were promised a brutal fight.
From the mountains of Ichkeria far
Already in Chechnya and his alive call
Crowds flocked Udaltsov.
Over the antediluvian forests
Beacons flashed all around;
And the smoke of their the wound a pillar,
The stretched clouds;
And aimilia forests;
Was wildly sicalis voice
Under their green tents.
Barely got out of the train
In the clearing, it started...

We, the Caucasians, like fake it, but most of all we love pontovatsya each other. We have a old ancient trick: we are every weekend going to the "Choyhona" and begin to discuss "themes". Even so: "the subject, cousin." the Theme is any business project, in advance doomed to failure because they are not feasible in principle. You have no idea what kind of startups! "Well, brother, look: buy dried fruits, okay, anyway, brother? Then moisten them and get regular fruits! Understood, brother?"
After that, the most important is, it is very important to get maximum pathos from the "Choyhona", get in a cab and go to order.

From private practice: the waterfront cafe sea
In memory pictures pop, but muddy as in an accelerated mode.
First, one Caucasian, and then suddenly have three
In the end, the episode blow by blow, as on the replay.
Devils jumping on my head, I lose consciousness,
The last thing I remember two cops at a nearby building.
One turned away, sighing sadly watching the second.
And my soul scream - Russian, Russian help!

There is no help from the Russians since cross knife in the ribs will stick,
But the President is happy and it does not say in vain.

One kick to the jaw, and carried on a stretcher!
Is The Caucasus. All hot heads. A noise and went. People came to listen to music, and you him in the jaw. The Caucasus has changed, in the yard of the twentieth century.

As a Caucasian, I'm a hostage of some traditions of its people. We decided to marry the girl of his nationality and to the Karachai to conquer a girl, he needs to conquer her brother. Happens all the same, the same methods - you drive him to the café, complimenting, laughing loudly at his jokes, stroked by hand. I'm 28 years old and I still have no girlfriend because I haven't found the brother.