Independence it seems has come like a wave over the town of Pinsk. Changes are occurring left and right and soon, there might even be genuine hope for a better future.
News of this has come to me from a taxi driver working for the Russian Yandex corporation and little t, operating independently for the very first time.
It seems there has been a definite wave of intelligence and understanding washing through the place. Local legend says it has something to do with not only the look of the river but the smell of it. It was as if somebody had squeegeed their eyes just enough that a slight glimmer of cool colors comes off the oil slick they are standing on.
These things don’t appear in text unfortunately. Such things are only of this oddness we call life. You have to experience them. Life is not for this sitting. Life is for the doing. We stand up on our own two feet and we say yep. Actually, I think I was trying to say yawp. That’s a very literary word. It means scream to nature. Russians know about this. It’s in their films. Hiya! I am here. Usually they just yell. When I do it, I get specific and litigious and less than ambiguous. But then again I’m not Russian. But these are signs of life here in the springtime.
Although obviously on a schedule and even more obviously being more than willing to get the hell away from little t, The gentleman was willing to have a conversation with me. I stood on one side of my fence with the gate locked and he stood on the other next to his automobile which I believe was still running. I asked him for a moment of his time. He wasn’t particularly in need to speak to me. There were a lot of germs going on in this world. Some of them actually got into my house. Good grief! She fucked all of us! The point being however that whatever I was trying to say suddenly seemed interesting to the man to listen. Perhaps it was politeness. Perhaps it was just a policeman deciding that his cover would be best not blown and he really didn’t have a fucking clue what a genuine taxi driver would do in such a situation . Nevertheless, the words that I was saying seemed to me in something.
Listen. You work for this Yandex corporation, right? It was written on the car so it was kind of a stupid question. But again, the English translation will be okay, I’ll bite. It means I know there’s a hook in this but what the hell, I’m bored.
Yes.
That’s a Russian company, right?
Yes, of course.
This little part of the conversation didn’t go exactly as beautifully as this but we’re going to get to the meat of it. This is not conversation land. I am conversation land. Most of it was inflection and making facial expressions to get the guys attention. I had to move a little to catch his eye. And then he had to figure out the gay factor. And then when he found out it was just a moment of political sociological thought that actually might mean something to someone who comes from Pinsk, it was a good exchange. But it didn’t come exactly like this conversation. Just keep this in mind. We got to a good place at the end but I’m just writing the dialogue so that we get all the important points. Enough said.
But you yourself are a natural pinchon, yes?
He smiled at me and agreed. I could see it on his clean face and well quaffed hair. He was a beautiful man. Maybe even beautiful enough for Putin himself. Everyone knows what being from Pinsk is all about. And yes, bodylove, this is exactly why I haven’t cut my beard in 3 years. If them fuckers don’t know how beautiful I am, let them learn and when the next beard thing comes around it’ll be for the right reasons.
Well, you get a slightly more regular ride because everything is through the comp and organized. You get slightly less money but it works out kind of okay in the end because you have less responsibility. You probably don’t even pay for the gas. But the thing is that there was only a few days ago a local company that I kind of preferred. You know the guy who dispatches for them. It seems that he suddenly ran into a financial problem and now I can’t even call him on the phone. It seems odd sometimes whenever I like someone that they either begin working for, show them selves as always having been working for or just get blasted to death by the Russians. These guys are so psyched about me They can’t even let a single event go by anymore. They are into serious detailed nuance now.
Just a side note. Have there been any words to the effect that the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result? That’s true for me writing this. But I’m a writer. I love writing. I think everyone should write. I think the fact that people don’t write is exactly why Mr Putin is following me like a dog. I didn’t say like my bitch but you know, dog, effeminate, this sort of necessity for an idol, it’s not very manly so I don’t know, how do you see it?
Anyway, I pointed out two little points of civics that I thought were important and this is why I was pretty happy that he had chosen to listen or had been taken by the thought that what I was saying was worth him listening to. Perhaps if he was actually from Pinsk and that actually meant something to him.
The first point was that if we are going to allow profits to leave our city, if we have a choice, we should definitely choose to leave our money here. If we give money to the Yandex corporation, and this is absolutely independent of how wonderful their service might be even in a rational normal competition against locals, this is simply pointing out that we are sending our money to Russia for nothing. For nothing. For something we do ourselves and we get to keep all the profits local.
This got a genuine knod of understanding. Pinsk people are beautiful because they are beautiful. That means they have been well feminized. I think the Jews lived here for 500 years. I think that’s what all of this has always really been about, hasn’t it? Like, are you enjoying my misery or are you enjoying the fact that the world is now moving in a better direction because of my writing about my misery? Are you just another Jew hater or for reals, is it about time to do some serious gardening?
And then I pointed out that it was quite a circumstance that our mutual friend, the dispatcher for Prestige Taxi suddenly ran into an economic situation that pretty much sunk the company. I mean, did we catch him in a scam the first moment we invited him into the house? There’s a way to emotionally say this sort of statement. I will say something about Belarusian people. I mean this very seriously that I am in the audience with quite a few local Pinsk people right now. Not just the Russians but the real stuff. Was he playing me for that $2,000 or was he being played suddenly for $2,000 because the court found reason that this was the exact moment to put the screws to a competitive business? Because logic dictates that unless I personally am rolling the dice, we don’t get this much evil with such clever precise timing as we would a bunch of KGB freaks who have been getting free music lessons for several years now. I guess they never understand that they’ve never done a beautiful thing in their life and that their way of life must end.
So that conversation went well and I discovered that I’m not really going to do business with little t anymore. I think you really need to understand that I am really practical but it’s also the 8th of March. I always believe in my heart that something good might happen. I don’t know why I think this. I don’t know why I continue to think this. This is probably the sort of thing that kept me writing all of these stupid words, edit it or not. I think you do something because you believe it’s right and when you notice you have all of these adversaries appearing everywhere you look, this is either going to tell you to stop and go home like a coward or it’s going to tell you that you’re going in the right direction. If you’ve got them this scared, it means that you actually have the cure for the disease. And in my most poetic and honest assessment of my own situation, frankly, the bitches in Moscow are just the same bitches as we have here and they’ve been begging to have their face slapped for years.
I got to tell you, playing gangster games just doesn’t work. I get it if you are the gangster. But that’s the thing. You set up a pyramid situation or everybody wants to be the gangster but being a gangster means being a murderer. Whooptie fucking do. You are so agile. You are the fastest killer in the world. You have zero sense of any humanity in you. It doesn’t matter if it’s your sister. It would be your sister at her communion. That would be you. Pop bitch brains on the floor. And the priest. Pop. And three or four people in the rows just so they know who you are. Pop pop pop. That’s who you are. You’re a stone cold killer.
It must end. It is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. I don’t give a shit what you would do to me or what you would not do to me or how much enjoyment you take from making me live next to this human pus, have you ever sat at your television and watched a drone and not looked at the violence and death? Have you ever taken a look at the trees and the grass and all that boring shit all around your oil stains. I don’t care and neither does anyone else how much Russian or Ukrainian blood is shed in this little sausage fest of yours, I only care about how bad you are poisoning Ukraine. But even more than that, it’s not even that big of a deal because you do that to the entirety of Russia every day. Just so that you can feel good just one more time, to just feel alive just one more day, the whole world must die and this is what you want for your legacy.
Asymmetrical program. The taxiest got the clue. I looked at the quality of shit I got from the market and the quality of the COVID that splashed over my face when she walked into my house instead of just handing me the packets. Why did she want to come into my house? The house was a bit of a mess. I would have offered her to sit down if I really wanted to catch a disease. I thought she was just bringing me the fucking cabbage. No, I had to open the gate. She had to come into my house just like she had to go into a Yandex cab. Fucking up the entire Yandex world with her disease is not such a bad thing really because I’m politically against Yandex. Are you going to say that I did this? How could I have arranged it, I let her choose the taxi herself. But, not in my own house? Didn’t I already overpay for the cabbage? Two heads of cabbage, 3 L of kvasheni and some apples and onions. I paid for the goods and I paid for the cab and I paid for her to ride in the cab here on the 8th of March. It was the wrong cabbage, the wrong crappy coleslaw, onions that look like absolute shit and she could have mentioned that all the onions were already shit and instead of little snack apples, she bought me four gigantic ones which means you’re just sitting around allowing the newly hatching flies to land on your fruit that you couldn’t possibly eat all off.
So, we ain’t a millionaire. Not yet. But it is possible to get some goods up to the house. So that’s a plus. It’s also a plus this picture that you can see above. That says that I am no longer blocked in Pinsk. They hear me. And it seems day by day, I am becoming more and more clear. Maybe it’s not the last time I work with little t. But she’s got to learn her place. Nobody hired her to lead anything. This being said however, and even if she is one of the most nauseating crack whores I’ve ever seen, somewhere between this particular call and the last time I called her, she seems to have become just slightly more independent. Independent thinking. At least trying to get things right. Well, she’s a whore so she’s trying to get her shit right, but she’s thinking. She’s not so spastic. She’s becoming calculating. That’s very good. That’s very good.
But if I have to put a bow on this, it is this little nagging thing in the back of my mind. It’s always cool when you make headway. Big plus. The big guys hear me, the little guy’s hear me, everyone knows that this is probably the right thing to do. I’m okay with this. I’m not feeling any particular pressure. If we’re going to do it, there is no pressure and if we’re really going to do it, there is no pageantry. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had pageantry enough for a million years. But if all things are true as they most obviously seem to be true, if these stupid cocksuckers would have listened to me the first time, they probably would have been driving Teslas by now.
