Glory to Stalin!

Stalin’s reign.

An old lady gets on a bus in Moscow. She has waited a long time, and sits down with a sigh of relief. “Oh, glory to God!” she exclaims.

The bus driver turns around with a grave look. “Comrade, there is no God. You must say, ‘Glory to Comrade Stalin.'”

The old lady apologizes and pledges to remember this. After a minute, she pipes up, “Comrade, what shall I say, if, heaven forbid, Comrade Stalin should die?”

The bus driver pauses, and answers, “Oh! Then you shall say, ‘Glory to God!'”

Have a glorious day, won’t you!

Glory-to-Stalin

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Your Semi-Regular Soviet Joke

Brezhnev goes to a milk production factory and asks: “Do you think that you can double the production?”.

The farm manager responds: “yes comrade, we can do that”.

Brezhnev is pleased with the response and decides to push it a little and asks: “How about trebling the production?”

The farm manager responds but this time a little less confident: “Well, yes we can but I fear public may found it a bit watery!”

white cow in cattle house

Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

Have a productive day, won’t you!

Not a Coincidence – a God-incidence

We often talk about coincidences when it’s a case of being in the right place at the right time.

Let’s wind back to Saturday just gone.

I was feeling tired and almost decided to head directly back home for a power nap, not go shopping, but order pizza for evening meal. Instead, I forced myself to go to the local supermarket en route, mainly because I had a craving for their banana split ice cream.

I went and did my shopping.

I was then proceeding in an easterly direction out of my local Aldi, when I noticed two elderly men near the entrance, one of whom was spitting onto the ground. It turned out he was spitting blood, having had quite a nasty fall.

It turned out that our man spoke hardly a word of German. His mother tongue was, however, Russian, so I was asked to help out while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. I then acted as interpreter between him and the medics, including taking down his medical history. I had forgotten the Russian word for “diabetes”, so I asked him, “Do you have the illness where you have sugar in your blood?”

I explained to him that the paramedics would now take him to the hospital, where they would do a more substantial assessment and get a dentist to stitch up his lip which he had bitten quite badly as he fell.

Job done.  I was exactly where God wanted me to be.

Image result for god-incidence

Have an incidental day, won’t you!

A Quarter of A Century

“A quarter of a century” sounds (to my ear) like a longer time than “twenty-five years.”  It’s a quarter of a century since I last had cause to speak Slovene, a South Slavonic language, spoken, funnily enough, in Slovenia, ex-Yugoslavia.

How did I end up studying Slovene?  Lots of reasons.

  • It was a final-year option on my degree course (BA Russian Studies, University of Nottingham).
  • It saved me having to take a literature option.
  • I thought it would be easy to learn, having done Russian and Serbo-Croat
    • It was not to be.  I kept on using words from Russian and “naš jezik”, much to the annoyance of our Slovene lectrice…

Then today I read a very thought-provoking article on the BBC News website, all about graduates coping after they finished university.  It drew for me comparisons with service personnel leaving HM Forces.  My Dad’s words after he left the employment of the Queen after 22 years were:

I felt like a fish out of water.

That’s how I felt in the summer of 1993.  After nearly two decades in education, including kindergarten, here I was at the Job Centre.

  • What career did I want?
    • No idea.  I just wanted a job, just to pay the bills.
  • Where did I want to be?
    • No idea.  Ideally back at university, studying, but I needed to get a job and like the ex-HMF people, get used to Civvy Street.
  • What next?
    • There was no daddy to speak to one his mates to get me an internship or job in his firm.  There were no graduates in my family to help guide me.  Just armchair experts.

Twenty-five years later, here I am in Germany.  In life the journey is the destination.

Have a careerist day, won’t you!

 

 

Spud-u-Like

Gorbachev visits a collective farm to check on the potato harvest.

The comrade tells Mikhail Sergeyevich, “We have harvested so many potatoes this year, that if we stacked them up one above another, they would rech the feet of God.”

Gorbachev replies, “But, comrade, there is no God.” Our farm worker replies,

“Ha, well, there are no potatoes, either.”

***

Have a collective day, won’t you!

spuds

Stalin and his pipe

They come, they talk to Stalin, and then they go, heading off down the Kremlin’s corridors.  Stalin starts looking for his pipe.  He can’t find it.  He calls in Beria, the dreaded head of his secret police.

“Go after the delegation, and find out which one took my pipe,” he says.

Beria scuttles off down the corridor.

Five minutes later Stalin finds his pipe under a pile of papers. He calls Beria:
“Look, I’ve found my pipe.”


“It’s too late,” Beria says, “half the delegation admitted they took your pipe, and the other half died during questioning.”

***

Have a questionable day, won’t you!

stalinPipe