Tales from rural Novgorod (Part II)
Probably, moving away from the city was a very smart move. We moved into the sticks, as we say here, 30 years ago, best move ever, we are almost totally self sufficient with our own electricity, water and garden. Its comforting in these uncertain times to know we don't have to rely too much on unreliable supply chains newmoonfarm.ie Good luck with your endeavours!
I've finally translated into Polish (making every effort to ensure that the text is translated in accordance with the Polish rules of spelling, grammar, and style - there is none of the messy sloppiness of automatic "Google"-type translators - one of your most important articles:
It's been a long time coming, as I've been having a 'mental' crisis lately.
Finally, I somehow recovered myself and.... finally there it is - your extremely important work from this article is available to the Polish reader.
Thank you sincerely for your journalistic work and I send to you my best regards,
Polish translation below:
LOL......I think I would fit right in in your village.
Lmao. Cheers Roman!
Edward, fuck your mother, when you burn a man's 'cobs' you fuck your mother destroy his mojo. Do you not know this before ?
Jean Neyrien Nafoutre de Seyquonlat.
"Lev then sought the services of an elderly woman from a neighboring village who was in communion with supernatural forces. For 200 rubles she put a love hex on a rolled-up newspaper, which Lev then placed on Ekaterina’s doorstep. That also didn’t work for some reason."
It reminded me of a funny Algerian movie where a guy called Jebraoui Raba (he was a fan of JR from Dallas) used the same spell he bought from a local sorcerer (for I don't know how much Dinar) but a big bearded local man in djellaba walked across the spell and fall in love with the local JR (he wore the same hat in his Algerian village) which followed the whole movie, amorously telling him in Algerian "JR, I love you"....
If wasn't for the not-war, I would have had asked for that good Lev's address to send him, at least some French paper toilet rolls, Fils de P...
That made me laugh out loud!
Lev's attachment to his toilet paper rolls reminds me a bit of how I feel about the little brown bags full of sawdust my husband "invented" to make starting the fire easier. He's never brought me a glass jar. But when I find a nice big one at a thrift shop, it makes me way too happy! Ancestral memory from long passed Russian predecessors perhaps?
😆 you are SO Funny, kiddo😆❤️👍
I wish I had a banya like that. It would be lovely in a Vermont winter.
Unrequited love sucks. I hope Lev the Lumberjack can recover from this soul-crushing disappointment and find a more worthy recipient of glass jars. Or maybe the glass jar wasn't such a great idea to begin with -- I'm not an expert on these matters.
Thank you very much for your crazy-funny writings.
Hope you are considering writing a book about your adventures in Slavsquatland Riley.
Thanks for sharing this tale, Roman
Now this is my kind of humor - just enough sarc to season the piquancy perfectly. Thanks for the giggles.
Lovely story Riley. Thank you.
>>> You're an American, you don't know any better...
Translation from Russian patriotic into plain Russian: you don't know what the extreme intergenerational poverty actually is, much less what its long-term effects on both Russian psyche and phenotype are.
Well, buddy, chances are agent "Roman" - may thiamine (lots of it!) help him on his journey to the depths of rural Russia - already understands you better than you could ever understand yourself.
Actually, this little horror story reminded me of a passage from "RUSSIA-2028" by Semyon Skrepetsky, published circa 2018 in audio format:
"I hope that when Yellowstone explodes in America, and the Russophobes have no time for us, the United States will stop shoving sticks in the wheels of our economy. Then we'll live! I will eat CROWS every day, we will build MAGGOT FARMS in all the villages, and most importantly, there will be heaps of coupons... having those coupons, you can afford not only a bucket, but even an enamel basin!... and all sorts of different clothes... I'll buy sneakers, Chinese ones... and a sweatshirt... and there will be brushwood up the wazoo to light the stove and keep you warm whenever you want!"
Some live in the middle of nowhere. Others live in the middle of nowhere in Russia. Now THAT'S wilderness baby.