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English / 05.03.2020 / 1212

Queen of the spoken word...

Nikolay Mokhov, author from the Dark Side of Business

Tanya’s mother beat her weekly. She tried to restrain herself, and not hit her child every day, but it didn't always work out. It was all thanks to her daughter being so different with her fantastical stupidity and incredible self-confidence.

“You realize that you can't even work as a janitor? Today, even they have a higher education... And you can't even string three words together," shouted the fat math teacher.

“I'll be a queen," replied Tanya. In class, they made fun of her dream. In an impoverished school in the nineties, girls might’ve wanted to marry a bandit. The Prince Charming of that era was a jumpy dude in leather with a jeep and a gun. For romantic women – Danila Bagrov – he’ll make a shotgun with his own hands. He’ll also restore justice and help prostitutes in a foreign country. And, well, if you want to be a queen... you’ll need a king. And in the province, there's only a vodka king. By the way, there was talk that the local king had his own test…

However, Tanya wouldn't accept him as a candidate for husband anyway. The girl knew exactly who she wanted to be. She was supposed to have a title and a castle. The lack of a title and a castle is a terrible mistake, which is why she ended up in this strange family and in this provincial town. For hours she’d think, what kind of royal family was she from? Maybe an English one? Tanya was twelve when Lady Dee died. The girl was reading about the Princess of Wales...

Tanya wasn't stupid; she just used her intellectual power sparingly

- She's like a bunny... energizer, damn it... except there's nothing to talk about with her," the men said to each other. They weren't right. Tatyana had various subjects that she’d talk about:

“Honey, I was in an accident!” “Sweetheart, I wasn't accepted to university!” “Dear, I got expelled!”

The girl believed in the division of duties. Her job was to take care of her appearance and gossip with her friends, while the man’s task was to solve her many problems. Few have done it.

“That foolish girl is driving me insane! Yesterday, she almost got me killed. She made eyes at some Caucasians at a cafe, and then she called me, saying, ‘Honey, save me, I could get raped...’ And today I have to go to the dean's office to decide on her expulsion... That's it. I can't," said another knight who never became king, giving up halfway through.

Tanya wasn't worried about the disappearance of her lovers. The spot next to her was never empty. The girl was more afraid of the quality of the candidates. No one could meet her needs. Not sexual, but financial. Until he showed up. Or how she liked to write - He...



The roads of childhood

— I remember myself from the age of three...

— But I have memories since I was two.

Friends were arguing about who had the earliest memories. And I realized that I don’t remember myself in childhood... Not that I don’t remember anything at all. I don’t remember winter. I only remember summer and the moment when that summer of my childhood ended.

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Dentist's Spartakiade. Or the life of Spartacus

— I used to run like a wolf! I looked at everything in a skirt. And now?.. — says Sparta-cus — a strong man in his 60s.

— The computer is frozen — I can't do an X-ray. Let's go for a smoke, — Spartacus is the dentist of dreams. Even in the middle of treatment, he can offer a smoke break on his balcony, the way to which is through the hallway with a shelving unit. On the shelves are Soviet books on dentistry with new-fashioned magazines...

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The story of the clubber-programmer, kinesiologist-cyberneticist, and writer-investment banker

— I need to self-determine myself! — our interlocutor started with a banality. Ilya and I experienced a toothache. From the depths of memory rose the shadows of businessmen who had lost their lives in attempts to determine themselves, or rather to put a label on themselves. In the meantime, our vis-a-vis was throwing the names of the great ones on the table:

— Nassim Taleb — this is the second writer after Nikolai Mokhov (Nikolai Mokhov's ego is growing like the bitcoin exchange rate during a hype), John (well, of course, Grinder, co-founder of NLP), Castaneda (no wonder our interlocutor practiced tensegrity)...

And then he told his story. And his story refuted the theories of many respected authors, including those mentioned. I would write this story down with a pen, roll up the paper, and put it in a bottle, go out to sea on a yacht, and throw it into deep waters. But I don't have a yacht, and I don't have a pen, so read the letters electronically...

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