Vyacheslav Kuritsyn. Kuritsyn-weekly from March 1, 2001

Kuritsyn-weekly from March 1, 2001
Vyacheslav Kuritsyn

Publication date: March 1, 2001

When this issue appears on the World Wide Web, I will fight for the truth in Yekaterinburg, and therefore I am preparing a dish for you in advance. By the way, this dish is number 90, which means that the 100th issue of the Weekly will appear sometime in May. We need to celebrate somehow. Offline - some kind of presentation, or something, in the sense of “booze”... The first news release, at the beginning of 1999, I noted in the three-prudn “OGI”, to which you don’t even know what number to assign. Zero, or something. He arrived carefully a couple of hours in advance, arranged the bottles and ran off home. I hung my portrait by Kulik (he decorates my texts in RJ) on the wall, and he hung it in a bush, in a hollow, under a blanket. Maybe I should have been born a bug - I like to screw myself into something, rub myself, poke myself from all sides... Recently I thought that maybe dying - it would be pleasant, if, of course, it looks like an eternal dream, and not to the Chicago massacre.

Meanwhile, "OGIs" are multiplying. A rather expensive tavern appeared on Petrovka, 26, in the arch, on the right behind the children's playground. Local residents call the establishment "wonderful". Designed by architect Brodsky. Often there is nothing to do there, the prices are steep, but the atmosphere is pleasant. Damn, these big money guys are taking full advantage of us, cutting off coupons, and it's causing dust. They're eating, bl. And it would seem that their brothers in the humanities, Zirlich-Manirlich. And they are not afraid of lanterns. The Russian bourgeoisie is always like this - they know in advance that there will be streetlights, there will be pogroms. And everyone climbs there. They're sick of it, dammit. Businessmen suck. They would first learn to go to the toilet in the middle way, and then businessmen would go there straight away. Drug addicts, Orthodox Jews, Satanists-PR people, bl. Dealers, nah.

In short, today we are returning to the spring of 1999, when there was only one “OGI” in Moscow...

The eighth issue , dated January 11, is decorated with pictures by Shaburov, who then began to slowly try to move to Moscow and asked for PR. Now Shaburov himself is a walking PR figure, universally desired and loved. In the latest "Afisha" there is his text about Nepal in the "Travel" section - only, damn, this section is not on the "Afisha" website, damn, fly-loving PR people, damn. Well, at least this link: nothing is updated there, but there is something to see.

On the same day I opened Evgeniy Popov’s page . There is, in particular, a text about virtual reality that begins like this:

“Holy Rus' blossomed towards the end of the second millennium AD, transformed by the Tsar, the Bolsheviks, communists, democrats and technological progress! Just look, this country will enter the Internet like it’s shit, and will never return from there again,” - thought the famous theater artist, let's call him V.B., disgustedly looking at all these “preparations” - a long table, covered with crisp tablecloths, equipped with dishes with “delicious things”, assorted bottles of wines, vodkas, gins, whiskey... yes.. “mineral”, of course, “Pepsi”, other drinks... looking at the huge, already glowing display, where yellow, blue, pink fiery dots were already glowing, curling, from which the desired word could not be formed. .."

This allows us to nostalgically recall the era when the Internet was easily written with a capital “I”. The Internet will no longer see a capital letter like its ears! Like Moscow - from Vladivostok. Here is another article by Popov in Russian Journal about 10 rubles, on which Krasnoyarsk is depicted. A current topic - we are about to be promised 1000 rubles, on which Yaroslavl is depicted.

For some reason , issue 9 followed a week earlier than issue 8 - on February 4. These are the miracles that happen at GelmanRu at the turn of the millennium. Then I discovered Sergei Teterin’s column “ Art Manifestos ”: Sergei agreed to search the Internet for various proclamations and symbols of faith and collect them, that your whore bird is A.S. Pushkin. Teterin started with Lekha Andreeva, lasted 12 issues. So what? Never mind. Teterin is also now in Moscow (from Perm), lives in the apartment where I lived, and sometimes sits at the table next to me at work. And Lekha Andreev, on the contrary, returned from Moscow to St. Petersburg and now writes like this :

“I went through a personnel commission here the other day. Well, you probably know: my great-grandmother’s maiden name, the corpses of the White Guards buried by my grandfather - they want to know all this. Naturally, there’s a lie detector, truth serum, red-hot needles under the nails, forced viewing of banners about Putin... And in the middle of this execution, the female inquisitor who tortured me suddenly asks: “By the way, you’re probably wondering why the image on my laptop sometimes starts jumping?” “ Clear Pentium,” I say. “It’s just that behind the wall, in the next torture chamber, they plug the electric chair into the same outlet . ”

From which it generally follows that Lekha is back in Moscow and working in the glossy magazine “Internet”, in an alley next to Banny. You can't follow...

At this four-dot, the author took a technological break, which always comes to his mind when he gets to Time-o-Clock. Lech is a scoundrel and writes at extremely long lengths all the time, which leads to being late for the cinema, disruption of important tasks, progressive lack of command of the cyberboard... Well, that’s how I can now continue this issue, realizing that there are true values... There are very good about the finger that pees around the corner, and about... Well, everything about it is good. Can I offer you at least some kind of congeniality... Oh, well: I came up with the following episode for my novel “Matador on the Moon”: the hero runs away from a killer and really wants to piss. You know how it happens - the bubble is full, a trickle is looking for the meaning of life, wants to realize itself, mumziks wrap up three by four. I really want to piss! And behind there is a killer. What to do?

That's right, the hero did just that. And my heart was relieved a little: even if my “Weekly” in comparison with Lekha’s shreds sucks, but, you see, I can sometimes pamper you with a good idea.

And here is also a link to the luxurious text by Konstantin Uvarov “ The Mystical Hunt for Tatyana Drubich ”.

“I will bring her to Vitka, she will sit on the sofa, and I will talk to Vitka. I will bring her to the university dorms to listen to music. She will like Cave. We will not kiss in public, but everyone will understand how much we are in love with each other . Yulka won’t like her, Zlatka will sometimes talk to her. “Drubich is good,” Svetka Tkacheva will say. We will listen to “Tender May.” Then I will steal several phones in Soviet organizations and sell them, and we will go eat in different cafe. I will kick the whole party out of the house, except, perhaps, Burdin, and the two of us will light the stove and stew the lamb. Then she will have to go to filming, and she will leave. I will take a photo with her . "

The pathos of scumbag lust for an inaccessible star, seasoned with childish tenderness and that truly mimetic flutter that this girl produces. One of the best texts published on my site. I recommend it with hysterics. If you don’t want to read it, I’ll gouge out your eyes, the abstract brokers have, damn it, got it wrong. Bl. Shit! Collaborators. Business, eh. They forgot about the lanterns.

Issue ten , beginning of March. Like right now. Drops. Boulevard. Mimosa. Dead cat. " to all interested sites "Vagrius" sends excerpts from " Generation Py . Berezovsky, about whom it is written that he does not exist, does not yet know the name of Pelevin, who will then be asked to enter the hero holding to prove that he exists... He has not really proven it.

And I have - "A thought about an elephant" by Yurko Pozayak:

The elephant was tortured
Damn Muscovites,
The elephant bowed
Trunk to the ground:
"Goodbye, Ukraine,
You are my native land!
Innocently young
An elephant is dying!
Gay! Gay!"

Issue 11th , March 11th. Women are resting. The magazine "Matador" announces that from the new issue it will be called "Nematador". Later, the founder Kostya Ernst will promise to get money for the magazine (from Aeroflot to customize advertisements), and therefore editor Rem Khasiev will agree to wait and not rename the magazine, but Kostya will not give money, the magazine will become Monitor, but that is in the future. In the present of that time there is a feeling of the extinction of glossy culture and several materials from the last issue.

“ The body on the TV as evidence ” is a more censored version of “ MTV: Feed Me ” (by the way, this thing was filmed by a guy from Kiev). Excellent picture of Rezchikov -