The Beggar and the Hare Read Online Free
Author: Tuomas Kyrö
Dirt
, which describes the everyday life – or rave-up – of the band Mötley Crüe. For in Yegor’s eyes two beings were superior to all others: Vince Neil and Joe Stalin. Yegor himself puts it like this:
‘I’ll tell you straight, as it’s important if you want to understand my character and don’t just want to stick me in the slammer. I’m mad about screwing. It’s the only way I know to get the shit out of my head when I’m under this goddamn stress all the time. Screwing is better than fighting, no? At first I never did drugs myself because I knew it would immediately screw up the stock records and the sales chain follow-up.
‘What’s the alternative? Drinking puts you out of action for several days. It’s better to empty your head with screwing.
‘Two weeks of business, two weeks in my pad with Miss Uzbekistan. There are all kinds of broads in theworld, of all races, sizes, smells and tastes. There are the Pam Andersons and the Finnish beauty queens (but there are also the junkies, the halfwits and the Alla Pugachevas). There are the semi-uglies who are also hot nymphos in an easy-going sort of way. There are the seventeen-year-olds who look like women of thirty and there are the forty-seven- year-olds who’ve kept their resale value. There are the rump roasts who are bigger and lovelier than the sum of their holes. And there are the ones who are just holes, for whom I just meant money, drugs and connections; in other words a hole through which they could sniff coke with NHL hockey players. But fun was always had on both sides, until it got embarrassing, at which point I’d tell the ladies to go, and order new ones. It didn’t seem possible that such a life would ever end.
‘I just can’t sleep alone; I need someone beside me; it doesn’t matter who it is as long as she has a good body. That’s how it is with the women back home, but over here the ladies have been let into the labour market; they have too many opportunities so they can let their figures go and quit wearing makeup.’
Yegor Kugar wanted more serious challenges in his life, and so he expanded his business activities from drugs to arms. A market was offered to him on a plate: hostile armies. The most important thing was that conflicts were ongoing, that no peace negotiations were started, that the situation did not become normalised. As long as the hostile army was within binocular range and antagonistic, one could trade drugs for arms.
‘Shitistan, Blackanistan and blah-blah-blah. I got my supply of happy dust from the tribal warlords,paid in cash, or rather in Kalashnikovs. Then, just for form’s sake, a little skirmish with those same warlords, and at the same time an application to HQ for leave, which was granted, of course, as I slipped in some powder as a sweetener.
‘The problems began when the enemy side began to tighten up their morale. Worst of all were the separatists, read B-league fundamentalists, read clerics. They’re an obstacle to free trade, a bit like your social democracy here. They scared the pants off me, because they weren’t scared of us at all. Kind of like the Finns during the Winter War: let the Russkies bring their millions of tanks, we’ll mow them down with our bows and catapults. In place of fear and flight they had hate and faith. Extremely dangerous. I respected them and despised them. But dang and drat it, if they’d gained such unlimited power, why on earth did they go on living in caves and ruins? They made threatening videos, took hostages and muttered their holy scripture, though they’d have done better to make music videos and build swimming pools in their basements with pole dancing, billiard tables and drinks cupboards.
‘I realised that they didn’t know much about screwing, either. That they could only get it up when they were able to rape someone. Their male cousins.’
B ut before Yegor Kugar occupied a position of command in the security services, before he was a drug
, which describes the everyday life – or rave-up – of the band Mötley Crüe. For in Yegor’s eyes two beings were superior to all others: Vince Neil and Joe Stalin. Yegor himself puts it like this:
‘I’ll tell you straight, as it’s important if you want to understand my character and don’t just want to stick me in the slammer. I’m mad about screwing. It’s the only way I know to get the shit out of my head when I’m under this goddamn stress all the time. Screwing is better than fighting, no? At first I never did drugs myself because I knew it would immediately screw up the stock records and the sales chain follow-up.
‘What’s the alternative? Drinking puts you out of action for several days. It’s better to empty your head with screwing.
‘Two weeks of business, two weeks in my pad with Miss Uzbekistan. There are all kinds of broads in theworld, of all races, sizes, smells and tastes. There are the Pam Andersons and the Finnish beauty queens (but there are also the junkies, the halfwits and the Alla Pugachevas). There are the semi-uglies who are also hot nymphos in an easy-going sort of way. There are the seventeen-year-olds who look like women of thirty and there are the forty-seven- year-olds who’ve kept their resale value. There are the rump roasts who are bigger and lovelier than the sum of their holes. And there are the ones who are just holes, for whom I just meant money, drugs and connections; in other words a hole through which they could sniff coke with NHL hockey players. But fun was always had on both sides, until it got embarrassing, at which point I’d tell the ladies to go, and order new ones. It didn’t seem possible that such a life would ever end.
‘I just can’t sleep alone; I need someone beside me; it doesn’t matter who it is as long as she has a good body. That’s how it is with the women back home, but over here the ladies have been let into the labour market; they have too many opportunities so they can let their figures go and quit wearing makeup.’
Yegor Kugar wanted more serious challenges in his life, and so he expanded his business activities from drugs to arms. A market was offered to him on a plate: hostile armies. The most important thing was that conflicts were ongoing, that no peace negotiations were started, that the situation did not become normalised. As long as the hostile army was within binocular range and antagonistic, one could trade drugs for arms.
‘Shitistan, Blackanistan and blah-blah-blah. I got my supply of happy dust from the tribal warlords,paid in cash, or rather in Kalashnikovs. Then, just for form’s sake, a little skirmish with those same warlords, and at the same time an application to HQ for leave, which was granted, of course, as I slipped in some powder as a sweetener.
‘The problems began when the enemy side began to tighten up their morale. Worst of all were the separatists, read B-league fundamentalists, read clerics. They’re an obstacle to free trade, a bit like your social democracy here. They scared the pants off me, because they weren’t scared of us at all. Kind of like the Finns during the Winter War: let the Russkies bring their millions of tanks, we’ll mow them down with our bows and catapults. In place of fear and flight they had hate and faith. Extremely dangerous. I respected them and despised them. But dang and drat it, if they’d gained such unlimited power, why on earth did they go on living in caves and ruins? They made threatening videos, took hostages and muttered their holy scripture, though they’d have done better to make music videos and build swimming pools in their basements with pole dancing, billiard tables and drinks cupboards.
‘I realised that they didn’t know much about screwing, either. That they could only get it up when they were able to rape someone. Their male cousins.’
B ut before Yegor Kugar occupied a position of command in the security services, before he was a drug
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