Think About Your Ass

Just Stop What You Are Doing And Think About Your Ass For A Hot Second.

Unlike grandmother, grandfather, Georgy Nikolayevich Moskalev was not a Ukrainian - he was a hero of the USSR, a kind of animated St. George ribbon crossed with Red Army soldiers from that Russophobic painting, where horny drunk Russian soldiers rape pre-teen European girl. Fully justifying his name and surname, grandfather had pronounced Mongoloid features and was the only surviving child from a large family of Siberian hunter-fishermen who came here with Ermak, exterminating indigenous peoples and seizing their lands. So the occupation of the Transbaikalian lands by the Russians forced many Buryat tribes to flee their lands on both sides of Lake Baikal, moving to northern Mongolia.

Grandfather got his gold hero star for crossing the Danube during the offensive in the Great Patriotic War, about which he told when he drank, sometimes to the displeasure of his grandmother, giving details about the Hungarian girls taken by force by Russian soldiers. After the Great Patriotic War, grandfather graduated from the Art Institute, but he failed to enter the peaceful channel, so most of his paintings are almost exclusively on the themes of the Great Patriotic War. Moskalev's paintings were of very dubious quality, but so are most of Russian paintings, whose originality lies in the conjuncture of the subject matter of works and rudeness of performance, not chasing after European masters.

For the Soviet government, the cult of victory was not so important at the time, so grandfather, despite the preferential admission to the university and numerous indulgences during exams, received little pay working as a teacher in the fine arts; almost all of grandfather's life, he was supported by grandmother, who had some good reason to be jealous of him constantly having sex with young female art students, but her money kept him around. However, after the collapse of the USSR, grandfather as a gold star hero was appointed an order of magnitude greater retirement pension than grandmother.

From childhood I remember the episode, when grandmother sent me to bring back the grandfather who was drunk on May 9 (a major militaristic celebration in Russia) from the drunk party on the other side of village. There it was always scary, because from the village children, as well as from the dogs sent down in the evening, you could expect anything. I furtively sneaked along the fence to the house where my grandfather was drinking. In the courtyard a large red-gray mongrel dog was sitting on a leash, however the length of its chain allowed to reach any corner of the yard. I screamed in the street, but everyone was drunk and did not hear or pay attention. Then I made one of the most stupid decisions in my life and tried to pass the dog into the house, as a result I miraculously fought off and the dog bitten my hand millimeter from the vein, leaving a scar for life.

Georgy Moskalev loved a drunken brawl: after gulping the vodka and letting out a battle cry, "I am shell-shocked, I'll screw you up like a fascist in a mutton horn!", The grandfather tried to knock out his opponent with an awkward alcoholic blow, but more often missed and groaned fell to the ground where, his even more drunk opponent tried to kick him. I remember witnessing that grandfather repeatedly fought even with his son, Oleg Moskalev, the typial occasion was, as I recall, the fact that Oleg argued with grandfather and spoke out critically about the USSR. Uncle Oleg said that in his youth, drunk grandfather frightened and threated everyone with his award pistol, until grandmother have thrown this dignity of the hero into the river.

Grandfather actually got a concussion during the Great Patriotic War, as a result of explosion catching a metal fragment with his head, which remained in his brain until his death from sclerosis. Perhaps it was the concussion that caused the hero of the USSR to use intraorally cologne "Shipr", diluting it with water. From this hero of a grandfather I first heard the phraseology "fucking mother of God", when a local bull tried to sodomize grandpa like a cow. Regarding food, Moskalev adored boiled pork and bovine genitalia, which could be obtained after castration.

The hero of the USSR, who suffered frequent constipations, once told me about the peculiarities of his digestion, as if he was describing an epic battle scene of the Great Patriotic War, that he had a "cork in the ass" or "stuck a stick there," and he must gather strength for a breakthrough; often the story was accompanied by the grandfather himself, heroically heaving on the side of the rural road. Towards the end of his life, apparently as a result of sclerosis, Georgy Nikolayevich completely stopped controlling his sphincter and often woke up in the morning lying in shit, sometimes with his face smeared with feces. Yet the State haven't forgot about the front-line soldier and allocated funds for a social worker, the main job of which was to wash the hero's ass.

Near the wall of the grandfather's country house was a rusty bucket, filled with shit and urine, because there is no proper sewage system in Russian houses. Due to the bucket, the house was filled with a painful stench, yet one had could get used to it with time. Such buckets were practically in all Russian huts. Above that bucket, grandfather made me clean potatoes. Once I dropped the potato there, for which grandfather gave me a slap, gave a lecture, ordered to get and wash the potatoes soaked in shit. Grandfather had some otherworldly respect for bread, so he forced me to eat even crumbs from the table and once hit me with fist, when he seen me sculpting a figurine from the bread crumb.

Among other things, I remember how grandfather lamented that the vile "Jews" allegedly stayed out during the Great Patriotic War in the rear, while young Russian boys, like him, died at the front. Neither then nor now I can not understand the indignation of my grandfather, because the Jews, all as one, understood that it was stupid to go to the frontline, while Russians, instead of keeping clear head and utilizing their brains, utilized themselves clearing the mine fields. However, the "civic duty", "honor", "duty to the homeland," "love of the motherland," "traitor," "fifth column" - are essentially all the forms of manipulation, and the hero of the USSR did not realize and did not want to realize that government manipulated him like a fool.

Once grandfather told me that at the time of his youth there was real community, where nobody dared be first to collect wild berries, like currants, in the forest, or to bump cedars (which were shaken by blows on the trunk with a large clapper). And now all are too bold for their own good, everyone tries to snatch first. Apparently the concept of "competition" to the old communist was absolutely alien, and his motto was "know your place, and do not question." Then the hero of the USSR taught me to walk "correctly", stating "only fagots and Americans are walking like this" and "Russians do not walk like that."

Being a great teacher, grandfather beat me with nettles and an army belt with iron soviet star, when I had the imprudence to fall under the hero's hot hand, or shirked from working in the garden or cleaning the cow stall. As a result, grandfather instilled in me a steadfast hatred for work, for which the hero of the USSR deserves my grateful gratitude. The grandfather's school was the best training on how to "work less, and achieve more," because the easiest way for me to achieve something was to evade work or imitate work.

Grandfather was also irritated by Disney cartoons, like Duck Tales, which after USSR fall were shown on Russian TV in the early 90's; Although grandmother allowed me to watch them, grandfather could have inflicted corporal punishment for them. On the question of why you can not watch American cartoons or what's wrong with Coca-Cola, the grandfather talked about something about "glass beads for the Indians." Now I think that if the Indians were indeed like my grandfather, then these savages could have been subjected to genocide of any proportions, without any harm to humanity. And given the example of Stephen Seagal (the offspring of those same native americans), who now sings praises to Putin, one can understand that the native american people are not the best.

The real worth of the title of the hero of the USSR becomes clear from the history of the "heroism" of the 28 Panfilovtsev. One of the Panfilovtsev, Dobrobabin, defended Stalin, risked his life, committed a heroic deed, was wounded, and, as expected, was left to die in the ditch. Later it turned out that Dobrobabin survived - he was saved by the Germans, as a result all posthumous awards to Dobrobabin were revoked and he was sent to the Gulag. Russians do not abandon their own, yeah... well, however, Dobrobabin was a Ukrainian, who was forced to change name from the Ukrainian name "Dobrobaba" to the Russian "Dobrobabin". Another member of Panfilovtsev, Kazakh native Kozhebergenov, also was captured by Germans, but fled, yet the leadership has already managed to write the Kazakh into the list of heroes. When it became clear that Kozhebergenov is alive, the title of "hero" was stripped from him, and the Kozhebergenov was first sent to prison, and then to the penal battalion, where Kozhebergenov miraculously survived, yet got crippled from the wounds.