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Seven Andreys - Июль 6, 2011 by drHimik

There is a village in Usinsk region, called Mutniy Materik (rus. opaque land). It is remarkable by the fact it was founded by seven Andreys. It was previously called Semandrey – a-lá Komi language. It was renamed into Mutniy Materik after a helipad was constructed, and each time during a helicopter landing the whole village became closed in by dense fog.  Murphy’s Law – they called the village Mutniy Materik.


Why I’m telling all that? That’s why my name is Andrey, too. And I’m an engineering technician too. And there’s been always six of us here, moreover in the same building. Usually, when an Andrey is looked for, the following dialogue takes place:


—  Hi there. Where can I find Andrey?

—  Which one?

—  You really have a lot of them? – the visitor is a kind of trying to jokeJ

— Six ones only in this building (building is four office blocks grouped together).

— Are you fucking mocking at me?

What is really funny, I’m not mocking. Mocking are the guys who sent him here. And told him look for Andrey!

—  Whom exactly are you looking for? – I’m trying to clear up the situation. By the visitor’s face becoming red I conclude the guy is a superior. – You need IT guy, translator, design engineer, electrical superintendent, QC manager or SEHT technician?

— ??? – the body gets extremely amazed. E-e-e-e-e electrical superintendent! – yells the body.

— Andrey Gennadyevich is on the first floor to the left. By the way, there are two Andreys there, too, so don’t be confused. Andrey Gennadyevich is grey-haired. The younger guy is translator. – the body keeps silent and turns pale. Confusion and cognitive dissonance are obvious.

— And who’s the hell are you? – Vocal shimmer is my victory. Let’s fix the result:

— I’m Andrey! IT technician!

The stunned body softly rolls down the first floor.


I can perfectly understand him. When I arrived on site for the first time, our project manager only glanced at my documents and screamed:

—  Damn! Where are you all springing from? – I got afraid that our company is oversupplied with IT guys. But it turned out simpler. – One more Andrey!!!

A year later I understood that my zodiacal duality is nothing. I started to fall into the state of triplication and multiplication of consciousness. If you don’t understand that, imagine a common everyday dialogue, when someone runs in and says:

—  Andrey! Fuck your ears every day! Have you seen Andrey?

—  Well-aaa..He’s just went out, ask the neighbors. Maybe Andrey’s seen him?

—  I’ve asked him already, he said he’d been out of sight for three hours. Ok, I’ll ask Andrey.

—  But if Andrey has not seen him, another Andrey probably has. He’s sitting on the first floor.

—  And if he has not?

—  Well, then ask Andrey.

—  Damn right, bro. I’m a kinda slow in the uptake. Thanks…

—  Wait a sec!

—  What?

—  Andrey! Keep your dick up anyway!!!

—  Jerk!

By the end of the day you go totally nuts…


But someday you come to understanding that when seven Andreys gather, the company will collapse. That’ll be a fucking disaster for everyone, or exodus. And all Andreys will probably escape and organize a company of their own, with blackjack and hookers. In fact, forget the blackjack. We can undertake a fine thing without it!

Rotation-based work - Май 28, 2011 by drHimik


—          Hello


—          Get up, they ordered to remove your stuff today


—          What’s the time?


—          Half past six


—          Ok, I’ll be there


Waking up in the morning during the polar night is little different from waking up on January 1st of any year. You don’t understand anything, don’t see anything, and you try to feel about your clothes, along with cussing out your creative bosses. While going along the corridor, hang-over enhances due to shaking walls. And coming outdoors, you get shocked by piercing wind. While you’re convulsively trying to zip the jacket, a dozer sneaks up behind you and demands to give way by horn, sounding like stentorian voice.


In winter, during snowstorm, heavy machinery looks like demonic creatures. Engine’s howl, growl of tracks… Headlights tunnel the darkness looking for a victim. Jeez…


On the way back from the storage facility you certainly slip on ice, covered by snow. You get out of the snowbank, cuss out the winter which starts in October, fucking weather, polar night and same-named region too.


Shapeless shadows are looming near the storage facility. Incompletely awakened brains send association — Werewolves. Everybody swears and wants something from you. And you only growl in reply sluggishly. Only bared teeth and phosphoric eyes are missing.


Conclusion: no people can be found in polar region at 7 a.m. in winter.


Actually, I’m lying: when I entered the storage, the first thing I felt with frozen hands was a hot cup of coffee, passed me by the storage-keeper. That was beyond price.

Reasons for murder - Май 28, 2011 by drHimik

Early in the morning, worried by unusual silence from the adjacent office, IT guy decided to visit his namesake translator, and drain a cup of tea. It turned out that translator, who had been beating his head against a wall and letting out a fearsome howl for three days, channeled his energy into a more useful activity: tender doping his favorite baseball bat (Banhammer) with virulent poison. IT guy immediately deduced that the thing was about a cunning murder intention; and delicately tried to clear up the reasons:


—          Why the hell use a poison? You’d better take uranium bar from lab guys (radiographic inspection team) and insert it into the bat. Penetrating power will increase by over 9000. Even a helmet will not help. Besides, it is 21st century, and using a poison est mauvais ton.




Translator beamed with joy and called to lab guys, but apparently was told to get lost. He became sad again and told his story.


It turned out quite trivial. Translator, who’s been upgrading his skills in oil and gas industry for three years and has never confused terms like “air blowing” and “blow job”, was fighting with land reclamation procedure, kindly provided by the environmentalist. The procedure was not big, like “War and Peace”, but with content horrible:


Smooth brome (lat. Bromóposis inérmis) – perennial rhizomatous bunchgrass, reproducing from seeds, tillers, and rhizomes. Fibrous root system extends deep below soil surface…

IT guy got into the situation and shared his stock of purgative pills with translator – what a nice food supplement for the environmentalist! Why drive translator to sin?


First fucking one! - Май 26, 2011 by drHimik

An entry from a secret logbook

of secure facility.

Somewhere in polar region…
Tonight, at 11:05 p.m., a winged object was detected and destroyed while attempting to trespass the border. Wing span is 1.5 cm!!! Gun tube is approximately 1 cm long!




That sort of beasts we have in our neck of the woods!


Shit cycle - Май 26, 2011 by drHimik


Once our environmentalist was visited by a colleague from client’s company. IT guy enjoyed eating tasty things followed by tea, and the enemies took advantage of the situation:


—          You need a landfill for wastes! – said Olenka.


—          Yeah, a landfill for shit, made of shit and located in shit! – Tolik turned it into a grim joke.


IT guy only choked on tea. Fine goings on!

Our wildlife - Май 25, 2011 by drHimik

The day brought much of impressions. All started with an ordinary phone call to our environmentalist.


—          Hello. Yes. – then his face’s becoming longer, and next question made me roll on the floor:


—          What fucking deer?




Things turned out to be ordinary, local dogs drove a young deer female on the ice of Kolva River. It quietly lied down on the ice right above the underwater pipeline, thus disturbing our workers. Being aware of paranoic environmental requirements of our clients, they decided to clarify:


—          So what are we going to do? Put off the job and have a tasty supper?






Meanwhile, the potential supper decided not to embarrass us and proudly went away.




Looking for alternatives - Май 23, 2011 by drHimik

When on rotation, you need to relax from time to time. Not simply for having a rest — you just go fucking nuts otherwise. Meanwhile you have to KNOW HOW. Vodka helps greatly, but it’s prohibited – penalty of 30 grand and one-way ticket home. For shouting songs you’ll be killed by local aesthetes, as not everyone possesses aesthetic sensitivity. Playing baseball may be incorrectly understood by local dogs, as people with long objects in hands make them feel nervous.


So we have found an innocent alternative – puzzles. Tonight we are going to solve a puzzle of 2000 pieces in a spacious office on a large board. We are chatting, listening to pleasant music, drinking tea and having some fun.



Happiness did not last long. Ruthless inspection officers rushed in and asked what the hell a kindergarten was going on. They ordered to remove half-solved puzzle and hang the board we used as a surface for solving the puzzle back on the wall.


So imagine what we are feeling now…



I want vodka, drugs and sexy demonic dancing… All because they’ve taken away my PUZZLES!!!


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