(Part 2) Best products from r/ANormalDayInRussia

Reminds me of the album cover of Swarm, by Shoveljerk.

Do you make it in a food processor or blender? We mash ours with a masher. That's why we call them mashed potatoes. Otherwise, those among us who are civilized, use either a ricer or some other kind of machinery and call it pureé.

Here ya go. Tube for it.

http://www.amazon.com/Vladimir-Minister-Russia-Leaders-Posters/dp/B00464AL78

Reamde.

well.. you could lol

I was wondering what's up with copper mug. Found out that they are sold under Moscow Mule name and stumbled upon some trivia.

Fulfill your destiny

They make dual dash cams now. Front facing and toward the driver/passengers.

Example:

https://www.amazon.ca/Indigi%C2%AE-Dash-Cam-Driving-Recorder-G-Sensor/dp/B00VU693QK

[it literally took me 20 seconds to google this. It took you longer to type your long ass ridiculous comment](6 Pound Taylor Pork Roll Also Known As Taylor Ham https://www.amazon.com/dp/B000FSB3GW/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_76EYBbSG3WJS6)

If you really want to blow your mind check out this book.

American Betrayal: The Secret Assault on Our Nation's Character https://www.amazon.com/dp/1250055814/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_fgTsDb5KFKCTY

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Nothing-True-Everything-Possible-Surreal/dp/1610394550/ref=nodl_

> In the office of the Soldiers’ Mothers the walls are lined with photographs of dead soldiers. I’ve come to interview four eighteen-year-olds who have recently fled from a nearby base called Kamenka. I’m late, but they’re all waiting quietly and jump to attention when I walk in. They wear hoodies and the football scarves of Zenit, the St Petersburg football team, and are desperate to prove they didn’t just run away because of common initiation, that they’re loyal, tough. They seem embarrassed by having to take shelter with fifty-year-old women. They never call the Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers by its name, just ‘the Organisation’.

> ‘You get beaten up, that’s fine. I pissed blood but that didn’t scare me,’ says one, the skinniest.

>‘Stools broken over your head. It’s good for you,’ echoes another. ‘They put a gasmask over your face, then force you to smoke cigarettes while you do press-ups. If you get through that you’re a real man.’

>‘I’m not red …’ they all repeat. ‘Red’ means ‘traitor’. It’s a prison word: in the 1940s Stalin started to fill up the ranks of the army with prisoners, infecting the system with prison code and hierarchies.

>‘You need discipline. But what happens at Kamenka has nothing to do with discipline.’ ‘The “grandfathers” beat you to extort money, not because they want to make a soldier out of you.’

>The conscripts spend most of their time repairing and repainting military vehicles, which are then sold on the sly by Kamenka’s command. The ‘spirits’ are essentially used as free labour.

>The boys had run away after a night of non-stop beatings. The ‘grandfathers’ had been drinking all day, and then at night they began to whack the boys with truncheons. The commanding officer came by but did nothing; commanding officers need the help of the ‘grandfathers’ in their larger corruption schemes and let them have their fun.
They go to great lengths to cover up for the ‘grandfathers’. In one week, the Soldiers’ Mothers told me, five ‘spirits’ at Kamenka had their spleens beaten to a pulp. The commanders couldn’t take the ‘spirits’ to a normal hospital; too many questions would be asked. So they had to take them privately, paying 40,000 roubles (over £ 650) for each operation.

>At 6 a.m. the ‘grandfathers’ told the ‘spirits’ they needed to each bring 2,000 roubles (£ 35) by lunchtime or they would kill them. One of the conscripts, Volodya, decided to make a run for it. He slipped through the fence and made it to the road. His father had picked him up and brought him to the Organisation.

>Volodya mutters as he tells his tale. I have to keep on asking him to speak up. ‘Of course it’s because the commanding officer in the army is a darkie from the Caucasus. The darkies control the camp, it’s all their fault,’ he tells me. The women from the Organisation tut-tut and shake their heads. They hear this every day, especially in St Petersburg, the skinhead capital, and especially among the supporters of Zenit, Volodya’s team.