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Writer's pictureMeggi Bogle

Thanksgiving Day

Updated: Dec 14, 2023



It has been noticed, that most people have a slight asymmetry in the perception of their assemblage point. Roughly speaking, they are losing their shores. I call this "client perversion." It is explained as follows.


If a client, being in deep shit, calls you in hysterics at night so that he is under the risk of imprisonment, goes bankrupt, somebody is going to kill him, capture his business, and after this call, you are becoming engaged in his business, and as a result, he avoided jail, bankrupt, killed, his business was not captured - then, of course, it is solely due to his natural luck. And also to our god Jesus Christ, the goddess Kali, Shiva, Krishna, Mickey Mouse, or Steve Jobs. And in general, since childhood, he himself was a lucky guy. He was just superior and fucking lucky! If all shit resolved after the only paper you submitted, it means the process was easy, and he is lucky. Lucky. But in no case is one single piece of paper correctly written by you, filed in the only correct place.


If the client was in complete crap, about 10 lawyers refused him, he killed the process because of his own mistakes, fucked up all the deadlines and polymers (*internet mem, the working record of the meeting at Severstal "Prosrali vse polimery")- that is, if the process ends up with a predictable fucking fuck due to the client's fault, then you will turn out to be shit.


Any business idea submitted by you that later turned out to be successful - of course, belongs to your client. As it turns out later, in 99% of cases he himself thought about it for a long time, so you did not tell him anything new. Never mind that before you came, he could not pronounce half of the terms that formed the basis of the strategy you made for him, which turned out to be successful. Thanks, dude, but we already knew everything before you, as we found out with your arrival, so be there.

I am sincerely glad that people learn business terminology and fresh ideas so quickly. One cannot but admire the learning ability and the speed of perception of breakthrough ideas by business owners and various serious adults. They really forget that it's not enough to skim the blueprint for a spaceship. It still needs to be built and launched. Therefore, if he kicked you out ahead of time to save money or felt like Bruce the Almighty, began to finish his spaceship "with his mustache," and as a result got a boardwalk - then, of course, you are shit. Not that prompted. And so, of course, yes. The toilet was assembled by ourselves. We did it.


If your client was harassed by the Investigation Committee for two years - forged summons, cheated on documents, put pressure on his nerves - that is, he did everything to close the dude out of bounds, and eventually fell behind - then the dude is sure that he was just lucky. Before that, he was removed from the plane, and also from the train, and was delivered by drive under police escort. Soaked as they could. And now they lag behind the dude. The dude is not closed out of lawlessness (although there is every chance). He's free. The dude calls me with a pig squeal of delight to tell me how he went for interrogation and everything ended wonderfully. He isn't in jail? It doesn't even occur to this asshole to say - Manya. Thank you. Not. God helped him. And in general, since childhood, he himself is a fucking lucky kid.


Then, when you have been dealing with his case for two months, you appeal against the enforcement proceedings, you are engaged in returning his company - if there is no immediate result, then you are shit. He showed your statements about the crime in the FSB Municipal Department to one guru from the FSO, and the FSO officer said that everything was written incorrectly. Supervisory complaints (!) Should be written differently, says the FSO (*federal security service, a guardian for several public sector objects). Fsoshnik says - you are shit. Who will argue with the FSO?

And in general, while you are digging here, they recommended the bright head of the financier Svetlana Petrovna, she has ideas how to return the business (ideas are very similar to yours, more precisely, yours), she wants to meet with you to help you formalize your thoughts and write a lawsuit to court. To get money in court for the company stolen from him so that the thieves who stole the shares got 60 million rubles more. And what. It is logical. Who, you say, brought Svetlana Petrovna? And you have good friends. Check your wallet after the meeting. To be on the spot.


He didn't think about it for two years because he fucked it all up himself. He got himself in the ass himself. He went to courts and filed lawsuits. Because he decided he knew better himself. He hacked the whole process with his fucking lawsuits because he filed the wrong thing and the wrong place. He got involved in civil proceedings before initiating a criminal case. He filed claims on the settlement of the deal, instead of overturning the deal. Or tried to overturn the deal for the wrong reasons. The whore saw the hardiness. Fucking lawyer.


And you sit and drag him from this shit, trying to do not to drive the wave. But the dude is delighted that he was not closed in the jail and still not swell why this happened. Instead, a client perversion begins.


You are shit. He says to me. We are at a stop. Time is running out. Nothing happens. We must move. The direction is not important, the main thing is to run. Fuck where. It does not reach him that you have been ordered and that they are shitting you, including because of him, that you can throw your brains out at any moment, but this asshole walks whining right and left and meets everyone in a row, like the last whore. Never mind. Not returned in a month the business that he fucked up three years ago, closing all positions for protection? You are shit. He was abandoned by 7 lawyers, you took his case, he was not closed, that was a first shift in the process in his favor. But you're still shit.



Another perverse sobbed into his vest over the prospect of losing $2 million in real estate. Perversions have already begun at the local tax office. Someone liked his asset - an island in Karelia, the tax authorities said face. The dick found out that the FNS (*federal tax service) making him bankrupt only when he received a piece of toilet paper - the temporary observation ended (*mandatory procedure before the announcement of insolvency), we are welcoming the appointment of the bankruptcy administrator. Confuckulations. Four days before the court trial, where he was supposed to be declared bankrupt, Manya plunged into the process, scribbled a couple of complaints. For unknown reasons, Manya's surname and great-grandfather Raevsky thrilled and delighted the FNS opponents in court, the next court hearings were postponed for 3 (!) Months, allowing closing the issue with the tax authorities and steer the problems. Nobody claimed the petitions I filed, including the tax one. What do you think happened next? He didn't pay me. Then for two weeks, I was reluctant to receive petty cash transactions for what was done. But I never got paid for what had to be done after the trial to win the case.


A week ago, he writes me. I'm sorry if I offended you. It turned out that the tax authorities rolled out one more requirement. He probably thought, that he would resolve on his own. He did not solve. But Manya won't be able to do anything in three weeks. And, of course, she turns out to be shit.




One more shot has been sitting abroad for a hundred years. A year and a half ago, Manya began to deal with his stinking business. At the same time, he catches all the side effects from Sergei Magnitsky's "friends" from the corresponding list. Magnitsky's affairs have similar nature and customer. Manya moved the stick in the right place since a horde of rats crawled out of there. Beckoning has been at war for a year, she is being moistened, documents were stolen, wheels are blown up, she escalates the topic along a chain, reaches Putin. At this moment, it turns out that this asshole, who has not been involved in his return for a hundred years and began to actively move only with Manin's appearance, hired a lawyer who started a parallel process, because, in his opinion, Manya "digs for a long time." Too long dragging out of shit, in which he sat for ten years. Only a year has passed. For which Manya found material evidence, who ordered that, and found out why he was being pressed for ten years. And for three months, now he has been hammering all possible structures to terminate the criminal case against him or at least change the status. Bring the talented entrepreneur back to his homeland, writes Manya. But the talented businessman decided to drop off Manya. I believed in myself. I've got wings.


Indeed, why am I digging? Magnitsky died, someone else got nine years (*of imprisonment), but this one stays alive, and for the first time in 10 years, they stopped wetting him. But, since he also began a client perversion, instead of "Thank you, Manya," he hires a lawyer and starts another process in parallel, within the framework of which he is going to plead guilty. Yoptvoy mother, Houston. We will probably keep silent about other juicy details of the life of talented entrepreneurs abroad. In order not to get upset even more.



Another star of captivating happiness and a participant in a loud smelly criminal case began to accuse me of being an enemy of the people and working for her husband's mistress (whom I had never seen or heard and did not know at all). Yes indeed. I am sitting quiet and digging in a criminal case. I used to work in a such way. Thinking over a strategy. I take procedural steps. Quietly, without noise and dust, I sit and work. But exactly, this quiet activity turning out to be very damn suspicious. And back in December, I applied to the Main Directorate of the Ministry of Internal Affairs in December. They had not even opened a case. And in general, everything was long - only two months had passed, and she had not yet become a billionaire. About the fact that a person went and leaked to the customers of her problems all the information about how we are going to fight them, I'd rather sweat alone. The project had to be closed for their safety.




But in general, client perversions ceased to amaze me after I grabbed the full extent of the consequences of doing those high-profile cases that I do on the part of people much closer to me.


Probably everyone already knows that the customers of the processes, who had previously successfully cooperated with Sergei Magnitsky and other victims, cut off the oxygen to me. I will not retell once again a sad, action-packed story about how they wanted to bury me in the literal sense. My business, my life, and, at the same time, my house were destroyed. My companies have their accounts blocked. The tax service them frozen, Bastrykin is engaged in more important matters. I cannot earn anything. I live for a year without water, heat, and light, because these fagots brought money even to my district police officer and his boss so that water and light would never appear in my house. It was Alaverdi (*the response, by Muslims in Russia) for the Bank of Moscow cause. Out of despair, I lived in a car, went to spend the night in a monastery in a pilgrimage house where I washed my Gucci and Louis Vuitton (it was in this that I wrote my first book), I and my Dalmatians survived the winter in a veterinary clinic (Nadia, you saved me) (*Vetstate clinic), a little in the office and an ice house without water with one gas-heated room. I didn't have a penny of money and I borrowed from everyone I could. There were weeks when I did not have, not only for gasoline but when I and my two dogs got one of the cheapest loaves of bread from food. Yes Yes. One loaf of bread a day for three of us. It seemed to me that I have friends on whom I can count.



It turned out that I had friends precisely until the moment when, thanks to me, they moved in their careers, earned money, bought subscriptions to expensive fitness clubs, apartments in Moscow, and cars. Then they felt ashamed to communicate with me. People who knew me for 20 years turned their backs on me. They were sincerely happy that I no longer earn money as I used to, but they were annoyed that I still hadn’t gone to wash the toilets in Macdonalds, hadn’t sold 911, and somehow floundered about something. Everyone was extremely annoyed by the car. It was recommended to sell it immediately. How can I even afford such a car, which they, who grew up thanks to me, still cannot buy? I was asked to sell my house, clothes, car and go to McDonald's.




Almost no one helped without judgment or edification. Even people who saw 22 years of my career and knew my history did not believe in me. Envy fought the joy of my problems and the guilt about it. Depending on what won, I was either loaned or not. As a result, many people helped, for which I am sincerely grateful to them. But only very few did not make me then turn out my pockets and give immediately taken, which I still have nothing to give because the problems have not yet settled. It would seem, people, who know what kind of person I am, and who now have a lot in life thanks to me and should have helped in the first place. It turned out not. Those who never earned much money helped. The most simple ordinary people to whom I have not done anything particularly good in my life. It was they who helped a lot and did not shake to return immediately.


An amazing thing. People who took much money from me to pay for their services or as help without any problems donated to scammers in charitable foundations for the fate of unknown ragamuffins, people who bombed me with their signatures on change.org petitions about Magnitsky condemned me for my work and refused to help.


Some will not believe it - they could not find a thousand rees for gasoline. “I'm going on vacation with my child, and we need money,” a girl, a former subordinate wrote to me, who called me several times a day during her dismissal two years ago to get the guidance, and to whom I gave a recommendation and helped with finding a job. Not a thousand rubles. Salary 200k +. Then she blocked my phone altogether. So that I don't bother her. That was just during the period of my loaf for three.



As a result, I concluded that the people to whom you do good, instead of gratitude, become infected with a kind of client perversion - they begin to feel envy of you and rejoice at your problems. It’s not you who are undeservedly wetted, and you’re fucked up how much you need help - but you are shit, you are to blame for everything (including Bananamama and the Bank of Moscow case) and let them wet you even more. Only one quote comes to mind - "Excuse me, did I ruin the chapel too?" (*the quote from the Russian comedy "Kavkazskaya plennitsa")


It would seem that when you are engaged in important matters that can change the balance of power in the traditional justice system and have a positive impact on the lives of other people, put an end to lawlessness, you should be supported. But no. Instead, you get another client perversion - condemnation. For fighting, not gluing your paws.



But in principle, it's enough to remember the story of Thanksgiving.


Thanksgiving Day is a North American holiday celebrated on the second Monday in October in Canada and on the fourth Thursday in November in the United States. From this day begins the festive season, which includes Christmas and continues until the New Year. Thanksgiving was originally a celebration of expressing gratitude and appreciation to God, as well as to family and friends for material well-being and kindness.

This holiday is rooted in the depths of American history, to the very first settlers from England who arrived on the shores of America in 1620 on the now famous ship "Mayflower". They landed after an arduous voyage across a stormy ocean in what is now Massachusetts on a freezing November day and founded the Plymouth Colony. More than half of the approximately one hundred arrivals could not survive the harsh winter and died from cold, hunger, and disease.

The survivors founded a colony, and in the spring, with the help of local Indians (primarily Squanto), who taught them what crops and how to grow on this inhospitable rocky soil, began to cultivate the land. An unexpectedly rich harvest was a reward for their efforts. The Indians rescued the settlers.

The first governor of the colonists, W. Bradford, proposed spending a day giving thanks to the Lord. For the holiday in the fall of 1621, the pilgrim fathers invited the leader and 90 more Indians of the tribe that helped them survive in unfamiliar conditions. This meal, shared with the Indians, was the first Thanksgiving celebration. Subsequently, the colonists celebrated the good harvest with occasional Thanksgiving festivals.


By way of gratitude, it appears that the Indian Reservation Act appeared in 1867. They helped - and that's enough. Often Indian reservations were created in areas unsuitable even for agriculture.


At the level of local municipalities, rewards were practiced for the killed Indians. The Shasta City authorities in Northern California paid $5 per head for an Indian in 1855, a settlement near Marysville in 1859 paid a reward from community donations "for every scalp or other compelling evidence" that an Indian was killed. In 1861 there were plans in Tehama County to create a fund "to pay for Indian scalps" and two years later in Honey Lake, 25 cents were paid for Indian scalps.


German ethnologist Gustav von Königswald reported that members of the anti-Indian militia "poisoned the drinking water of the Kaingang village with strychnine ... causing the death of approximately two thousand Indians of all ages." In 2009, the US Congress included in the Defense Spending Act a statement of a formal apology to US Indians for "the many incidents of violence, mistreatment, and neglect suffered by Indigenous peoples by citizens of the United States."

It is impossible to establish the exact number of victims because the number of the population before the arrival of Columbus is unknown. However, a number of Indian organizations and historians in the United States claim that the number of Indians from 1500 to 1900 fell from 15 million to 237 thousand.


But the turkey is still fried. Fucking habit.





"The pig under the century-old oak I ate my fill of acorns, to the dump; After eating, I slept under it; Then, having pierced my eyes, I got up And she began to undermine the roots of the Oak with a snout. "After all, it hurts the tree", The raven says to her and Oak: "If you bare the roots, it can dry out." "Let it dry," says the Pig: "It doesn't bother me at all; I see little use in him; Even if you don’t be for it, I will not regret it at all, Only there were acorns: after all, I get fat from them. " "Ungrateful!" Oak said to her here: "Whenever you could raise your snout, You should have seen That these acorns are growing on me. "

(c) I.A. Krylov.


Probably need to die to be heard.




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