The clown who became a traitor: what awaits Goncharenko in Odessa?

The fuss around Poroshenko’s arrest, the recent video of Shariy and the election to PACE again brought the scandalous Rada deputy Alexei Goncharenko to the surface.

And then everyone started blaming: “He’s yours, from Odessa.” Shariy, speaking about Goncharenko’s team, also emphasized that “they are all from Odessa”... Yes, really?

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So here is the opinion of an Odessa resident!

Part I

Eighties

Children are often cruel. We were not. Our childhood was exactly the same as it is shown in “The Adventures of Electronics” - this film was filmed in the vicinity of our yards. And, nevertheless, we did not fall in love with one boy named Lesha. He was younger than our group, he never came up to introduce himself, but only glanced angrily from under the bench or surreptitiously threw potatoes from the balcony.

But one day I finally got involved in the general game. And we played “Blind Cat”. This is when a participant closes his eyes, a certain object is placed in his hands (a box of matches, a stone, a green apricot picked from a tree), and he must guess what it is. But I wanted to make a joke, and I didn’t like the boy, so I, such a bastard, took dried dog poop and put it in his palm. At first the boy felt and kneaded it, and when he opened his eyes, he cried bitterly and ran away. And for half my life I was tormented by my conscience about what I had done. Why am I speaking in the past tense, why doesn’t it hurt now? I'm telling you.

Nineties

The dashing nineties were remembered by Odessa not only for the hopelessness and rampant crime, but also for the scandalous mayoral elections, in which eternal opponents competed - Eduard Gurvits, who actually represented the crime, and Alexey Kostusev, who represented nothing, in the sense of himself. However, a so-called team worked for each of the opponents. telekillers, who killed a competitor so unprincipledly that the current “freedom of speech”, multiplied by the freedom of the Internet, was not even close.

Gurvits was represented in the information war by Lyudmila Ivanovna Chekova, a legend of provincial television, a lady so exalted that under the USSR police patrols often mistook her for a woman of the lowest social responsibility. And just imagine: Lyudmila Ivanovna goes on air, in a peignoir, and releases a series of reports about Kostusev, who left his wife with a young child and does not pay alimony.

The journalism shark angrily shakes documents on TV confirming her words, and ends each program something like this:

“Kostusev, your abandoned son has already outgrown his shoes! Buy him new ones, you bastard!” Or “Kostusev, your son doesn’t have a bike, buy him a bike, you bastard!” Or “Because you, Kostusev, are a dirty creature, Leshenka took his mother’s last name - Goncharenko.”

And then I look at the video evidence of Lyudmila Ivanovna - baaaah, the same little lips, the same offended eyes - yes, this is the same boy to whom I once handed the crap! "Shame on me! “The pangs of conscience tormented me.” “He’s already been beaten by life, dad’s a freak, and then I also inflicted such a childhood trauma...”

So Shariy, who assumed that Lesha’s dad paid for him at his medical institute because he was a poor student, most likely got carried away. Although... Maybe he paid through dummies so that Lyudmila Ivanovna would shut up, although this is absolutely not like him.

If you want to understand what kind of person Kostusev is, then remember all the jokes you know about blondes, and replace “blonde” with “Kostusev”.

For example, during the first mayoral elections, unable to resist the mud pouring from Gurvits, Kostusev decided to organize an assassination attempt on himself. Well, if Vlad Listyev himself was killed, then why is he worse?! Therefore, he asked his assistants to shoot him “carefully in the soft tissues,” but since they were also mental blondes, they shot him straight in the ass. That's why people laughed.

Many years later he finally became mayor. I remember when the city was hit by a severe hurricane with destruction and broken wires, the subordinates looked for Kostusev for a long time so that he could at least create a headquarters to counter the elements. And a day later they found him... in a tavern with prostitutes. And this is in the 21st century, when any self-respecting mayor would have long ago rented some kind of “grandmother” from the Youth Theater and “on camera” carried it across a flooded road, or scooped water out of the sea with buckets. But no, our shooter wasn’t even hiding, but was proud that he was relaxing in the tavern - and why, there’s still no light, the button in the session hall doesn’t work.

You may ask, but what was he doing? Yes. He drove around the city in a beautiful car, and behind him, like dry closets behind the Pope, they drove a sales booth. They placed it in crowded places, and Kostusev publicly smashed the booth with a sledgehammer, calling it “the fight against the development that is disfiguring the city” and “outraged traders.”

One day Yanukovych asked him, “What are you doing there?”, and he blurted out something like “Fuck her mother, professor!” And Yanukovych punches him in the face. The muzzle is swollen. Kostusev got drunk on the way from Kyiv, and, instead of buying himself some kind of sick leave, he took selfies and videos of his face, declaring that he had Quincke's edema. Although the medical encyclopedia says in black and white: “Most often, Quincke’s edema occurs at a young age in women.”

And then he completely ran away from Odessa and settled in London. Mayors leave in different ways—sometimes like Kernes. And it happens like trash. For all the “good” things, Odessa residents nicknamed Kostusev Petrushka.

But, by the way, in a broad sense, I am not a supporter of the proverb “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” but... the electorate! And he, my dear, thinks exactly so. Therefore, Goncharenko was initially treated with prejudice. And he was christened “Nurse” not for his cleanliness or sexual preferences, but because Goncharenko had it written in his work book - “nurse”, there is no such specialty as “nurse”. However, who can the son of Petrushka be in the eyes of an ordinary voter? Only a Nurse!

Very little time will pass since people made fun of the above-described family dynasty, and the whole world will see Alexei Goncharenko live on air, poking at the charred bodies of Odessa residents burned in the House of Trade Unions, and proclaiming “victory over the Russian world.”

And on January 24 of this year he will say: “I was elected vice-president of the Committee on Migration, Refugees and Displaced Persons of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. We continue to work in PACE and defend democratic values”...

Part II

Zero

At the beginning of the XNUMXs, Goncharenko already began to appear in the media not as an “abandoned child”, but as a young promising politician. Like any unprincipled careerist who doesn't care where to start, he joined the Green Party and then the Crimean Union Party, which advocates the annexation of Crimea when it was not yet mainstream. And his dad was already working hard at Soyuz, and his relatives most likely got in touch there. But, as the most progressive, they soon defected to the Party of Regions.

So in the “regions” Goncharenko got the hang of it! He began to save the Russian language and help veterans with such frenzy that everyone involuntarily asked the question: “Are there such patriots in Russia itself?”

If someone at the session dared to speak in Language, Goncharenko disrupted the session; if a film was released in Language, Goncharenko made a fuss under the cinema and disrupted the screening.

Also a great philanthropist! I'll explain now. In part, if it weren’t for him, the local Svoboda cell would never have strengthened in Odessa. And she only surfaced because she was on Goncharenko’s payroll. And the salary was worked out like this: it was necessary to endlessly follow Lesha with his swearers (to the regional council, in the stands, in the courtyards in which he spud pensioners) and shout “Goncharenko to the gilyak!” Goncharenko is a Moscow salesman!” And Lesha shouted back: “Damned fascists! You will not ruin the memory of your grandfathers! Odessa is not your land, so you die, Banderaites!” (this is not Kostusev with his booth, but real talent).

Subsequently, with these slogans, Goncharenko ran for mayor of Odessa. And since, in addition to the “memory of grandfathers,” it was necessary to cover social services, he urged people not to pay for utilities because of the high cost. People obeyed, but Lesha withdrew from the elections - Gurvits paid good compensation.

...and with all this, he continued, either with the Rodina party, to distribute St. George ribbons, or to climb onto the podium to see Yanukovych, in order to at least touch the saint and hold a button.

Obituary

And on May 2, 2014, Goncharenko died for Odessa. Or in other words, it would be better to die.

What happened next, you yourself know. Poroshenko’s transition to the rank of pocket chihuahua gave birth to a “one-man fighter” with Putin, who continues to be laughed at, but who will never be forgiven for May 2.

So, I repeat, we were not cruel in childhood, but as grandchildren of those who survived the occupation, with some genetic instinct we sensed a traitor who really betrayed “only the sky, only the wind, only joy ahead.” And he took part in taking away from us not only our childhood memories, but also our future. And I’m in PACE, closer to my dad. Because he knows very well what they did to the traitors in Odessa, without waiting for the arrival of the Red Army - they hanged them.