The life and adventures of Soviet students are real stories. Funny stories from student life

Your life advice, life experiences

Funny stories have happened to every person in their life. Some were more eccentric in childhood, some in their youth, and some “got crazy” when they “went gray in the head”... However, for most people, the most eventful period of life (in terms of adventures) turned out to be their student years. And I am no exception. I will be happy to share my funny stories with you, and I will be glad if you share yours in the comments.

Since some stories did not happen to me personally, I consider it appropriate to replace the names with fictitious ones.

"Delicious frying pan"

In my third or fourth year, I don’t remember exactly, I lived with two girls (we rented a one-room apartment together, to save money, of course). So, I got an “imported” fiancé. Yes, yes, it was imported, since the young man was from India, and the town where I studied was very small (half of the residents greeted each other). Local people literally turned their heads when this guy walked past them. So, on the first two dates I brought my friends with me, he, naturally, always accompanied us, hence he knew the address where I could be found.

One fine day, when everyone was at home (me and all my girls), the doorbell rang. I went to open it. My handsome man stood on the threshold - oranges in one hand, a bag of chicken legs in the other. The girls and I were incredibly happy about this gift, since we ate meat very rarely back then (due to limited finances at that time, the main “meat” for us was cheap sausages, and even then only on holidays). We happily started cooking and with even greater joy we devoured everything we had prepared.

My guest and I went into the room together. Literally half an hour later, one of my girls quietly made her way into the kitchen. Then the second one evaporated. There were no conversations or sounds characteristic of a kitchen (washing dishes, etc.) in the kitchen. Intrigued, I also went to the kitchen. What did the girls do? My girlfriends, helping themselves with bread, cleaned the frying pan. Looking at their happy faces, I joined this tasty (even if harmful for some) process.

Now imagine the picture: a young man enters the kitchen and sees three starving people frozen in the moment of “licking” the frying pan on which the legs were being fried. The guy’s face first stretches out in surprise, and then he starts waving his hands and emotionally convincing us “no, no, you can’t, this is bad, you can’t eat this.” In general, what emotions we experienced at that moment - at first it was embarrassing, and then very funny. And that day, and a week later, and many years later - we laughed and continue to laugh to the point of tears when we remember that very moment and the guy’s stunned face.

Cheerful fellow traveler

It was on the train. My friend was traveling from her village to the regional center, from where it was easier for her to get to the city in which we studied. Luda deployed the brake that her mother gave her with her. She ate a delicious sandwich with homemade goodies, wiped her hands and mouth, and happily began to read the notes. A few minutes later she was distracted by the voice of a young man. He greeted politely and asked permission to sit next to her. Luda happily agreed - the young man turned out to be very handsome. The guy positioned himself opposite my friend, and the train started moving.

The young man was a man of few words, rather even silent. But every now and then he glanced at his fellow traveler. Then his gaze became more straightforward, and a smile appeared on his face. The guy continued to smile, and Luda smiled back at him. After a few stops, the young man got off at his station, and the girl experienced slight disappointment, since the acquaintance with the smiling guy did not take place. She rode the rest of the way alone. In front of her station, Luda took out lipstick and a mirror from her purse. Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she immediately realized what had amused her fellow traveler so much all the way. There was a piece of something green above her upper lip - it was a leaf of parsley from the sandwich that she had eaten with such pleasure at the beginning of the trip.

Misunderstanding

My friend Lyudochka rented a room from a girl. This girl’s brother came to visit her from time to time. Every time he came, he always went into Lyuda’s room to say hello and talk about this and that. On one of these visits, a young man entered the room with a small box. Luda stood at the window at the opposite end of the room. He began to move towards the girl, holding out his hand with the box. At the same time, the words came out of his mouth: “Luda, I’m here...”.

My friend, who had celebrated her birthday two days before, realized what was happening and, embarrassed, interrupted the guy: “Oh, Seryozha, what are you talking about, it’s not worth it...”.

“Ol, you misunderstood me. I came to find out your opinion - will my sister like this perfume...” the guy muttered in a quiet voice, as if apologizing. It’s not at all difficult to imagine how my friend felt at that moment... And you can also sympathize with the guy who found himself in this situation... Of course, he could get out and give the perfume to Lyuda, and then buy his sister new ones. But the young man either did not realize that this could be done, or, for some reason, did not consider it necessary (possible). Luda often recalls a stupid situation in which she found herself through her own fault - and together we laugh “until our tummies hurt.”

Strong woman

There was a girl living on the same site as us.- a student at the same institute where the girls and I studied. We weren't exactly friends, we just said hello and helped each other out like neighbors. One evening this girl came to visit us with a jar of jam. We were already glad that she decided to treat us, but no, she just needed help. For fifteen minutes she tried to open the jar on her own, but was unable to do so.

At that time, there were three girls (with a neighbor, four) and two guys in our apartment. One of the boys' first attempt to cope with the problem was a failure. He muttered something under his breath with displeasure and handed the jar to the second one, who, anticipating his own victory, could barely contain his grin (what a guy the first one was, he couldn’t open some jar). After groaning over the jar for about five minutes, he shook his head negatively and passed the “relay jar” to the largest of the girls - that is, me.

I also couldn’t open the jar (neither a knife nor warm water helped). The guys started joking that mom put the lid on the glue. After me, the second girl tried to open the jar. Unfortunately, she couldn't do it either. And what do you think - when the entire squad, which was in our apartment at that moment, could not open the jam, the last inch girl (1.5 meters tall and weighing 50 kg) took the jar and... opened it! To say that we had a lot of fun that day is an understatement!

Congratulation

Several people from our group got together and began to think about what they could do to pass the exam in one of the subjects. No matter how hard the teacher tried, the materials of his lectures simply did not want to be absorbed in our heads. If they understood the subject of the unit, they could count on successfully passing the exam. The rest of the students decided not to bother, chipped in money and, through one of the students, who convinced everyone that this path was the most correct and he “knows exactly how to find a common language with the teacher,” they handed over the “gift” to the recipient.

The offended teacher was furious; we no longer hoped that we would be able to pass or even retake the exam. And so that same small group of students who decided not to get involved with money anymore came to the conclusion that an honest teacher should be given a gift, as they say from the bottom of their hearts. It was the week before the New Year, so we also had a reason to make this gift. We bought a nice box of chocolates and champagne. We still had some money left and decided to add a jar of good coffee. We went to the nearest store. We asked the seller to check the expiration date of the coffee. At this point everything was fine and one of the girls handed the seller the required amount.

Having paid for the coffee, we were about to leave... but then something seemed to click in my head, and I decisively began to open the jar (the jar and the lid were tin). The seller silently watched us. I opened the jar, and there... oh horror!!! There was simply no foil, which played the role of a second lid. Apparently, it had been torn off by someone earlier and in the jar, instead of dry coffee powder, there was some kind of rag that was not the freshest. We were shocked. The seller generally stood there with her mouth open for about two minutes. When she “came to”, she began to apologize, stutter, and insisted that she had no idea about such a surprise. Who tried so hard and why he did it did not matter to us. We rejoiced that we had averted our shame. The girls were ready to kiss me because I revealed the surprise in a timely manner. After all, the teacher could have thought anything... For example, that we specially gave such a jar in the hope that he would not open it right away (after the exam).

Hot Dog

Having received a scholarship, the girls and I made sure to buy ourselves some goodies. On one of these significant days, we were walking along the main street and, seeing in the distance a kiosk that sold hot dogs, we decided to have a snack. In fact, at that moment we really wanted to eat - and we were in the mood for hot dogs (I’m ashamed to admit, but sometimes I’m incredibly drawn to such not-so-healthy snacks). So, my friend and I approach the window - there is no seller. We only noticed some movement.

We looked in and the seller was cleaning the floor. It doesn’t seem to be that bad, but it washes, and that’s okay. The woman saw us and asked us to wait for half a minute. We agreed. Naturally, we expect her to finish cleaning, wash her hands and serve us. But no. The seller threw a rag into a bucket (the dirty water in the bucket became even blacker), wiped her hands on her apron, took a bun and looked at us with the question “Will you have some mustard?”

My friend and I were speechless)). Both she and I were undoubtedly very hungry, and there was a break in the shops, and the refrigerator at home was empty. And yet we did not dare to try hot dogs at that kiosk. We walked afterwards and discussed the situation - what would have happened if we had arrived two minutes later? Of course, we wouldn’t have noticed anything strange and would have devoured our “goodies” in one or two minutes. They might as well be smacking their lips with pleasure)).

And a few more jokes on the topic and just for fun:

. In a restaurant, an indignant client turns to the waiter:

- I have a hearing aid in my dish!

- I'm sorry, what?

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

. Near one of the restaurant tables:

- Waiter, tell me, is it true that you finish eating for your clients?

- What are you talking about, you’re the one who’s finishing our food!

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

A young man with his companion in an expensive restaurant:

- What do you want?

- I would like to try the most exotic dish from your menu...

- What can you say about the mad cow?

- I think she will order it herself...

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

. I was on a strict diet for four days. At night I wanted to drink some water. Opened the refrigerator door... and then everything is like a fog. I woke up while washing down chocolate with borscht!

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

. The boy entered medical school:

- In your family, both your father and grandfather were gynecologists. And now you... Dynasty?

- No, damn it, we can’t get enough of it!

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

. A student comes to the clinic and complains to the doctor:

- prescribe something for me - I haven’t been able to go to the toilet for four days. It's probably constipation...

The doctor opens his wallet and hands the bill to the student:

- Buy something to eat, it will go away on its own.

Tell stories that happened to you or someone you know while you were a student. Here's what I found for you on the web:

We had such a case at the university. Exam. Everyone took tickets, sat, wrote, and got ready. The teacher is sitting and tapping something on the table with his pen. Some time passes, 3 students get up and approach the teacher with their notes. He gives them “excellent” and they leave. It turned out that he was tapping in Morse code, “Who wants an A, come with your record books.” One guy just figured it out and dragged two more friends along with him, and he was right.

In general, we have a lecturer at the university with the last name Baran. And he has such a trick (the senior students told me). When he first comes to a lecture, his first words are: “I am a Ram,” and whoever starts laughing after that is his enemy for life and will never be seen again. So he sees our first course, he comes in and says: “I am a Ram,” the whole audience is calm and only one guy starts laughing wildly, falls on the floor and rolls around. The lecturer comes up, puts on his glasses and says sternly: “Last name?” He gets up and says quite seriously: “Goat.”

There is a retake of physics, first semester. For those who don’t know how this happens at the Department of Physics at the Moscow Aviation Institute, let me explain: there is one laboratory classroom in the department, where there are many tables arranged in the letter “T” and several teachers accept debts from their streams from different faculties. So they've been renting out for several hours now and the guy is the only one in trouble. Well, no way. The teacher is already going to send him home, and the guy says to him: “Ask me one more question! I’ll answer - three, no - it didn’t work...” The teacher chuckles and agrees. Question: “Is the force of friction inert?” The guy freezes and after a short search in the empty recesses of his consciousness he says: “Inert!” The teacher says contentedly: “If the friction force is inert, then I take your record book, throw it into the corridor and it comes back.” And since three hours have already passed and everyone has gone slightly wild, the teacher takes the record book and throws it hard along the metal surface of the table in the direction of the open door to the classroom. The record book flies out into the corridor, where a kind soul picks it up and throws it back on the teacher’s table. Silent scene. It was successful in the record book.

One day a student asked Rosenthal (a famous linguist, author of many works on the Russian language): “Tell me, how is the word “***” written - together or separately?” “If this is a characteristic of my attitude towards you, young man,” Rosenthal replied calmly, “then together. And if the designation of the depth of the great Jewish River Jordan, then separately.”

As far as I know, the story is true. MIPT students decided to play pranks. Garden Ring road. Two students are walking towards each other. Both are wearing identical black suits, black hats, black boots and dark glasses. Both are holding the same black diplomats. They meet exactly opposite the American embassy, ​​exchange diplomats as they go, and go their separate ways. A block later, the KGB grabs both of them. Witnesses are found, diplomats open the door. They contain tattered sneakers. In one - right, in the other - left.

One teacher at the university told me. An acquaintance of his went to France and ended up at Disneyland there. On the bourgeois roller coaster, he saw how, before the kids set off on their journey, they shout the phrase “papista - fali.” He became interested, it seemed that the word was not French, and not English either, he went up to the controller and asked what the kids scream every time before departure, to which he answered: “A month ago a Russian student worked here, and so, every time, pulling the lever, he shouted: "***!!!"

After your parents' nest, the dorm is difficult and crazy. We've collected the most unexpected stories from HSE dormitories

“We saw the night, walked all night until the morning”

Alyona

I was sitting at a friend’s house one night. Everything is quiet, peaceful and calm, we are drinking coffee, it’s about two o’clock in the morning, when suddenly a message comes from a friend: “Why aren’t you sleeping? Let’s go for a walk?” And the weather outside is great: warm and not damp. Well, why not? I called a couple of friends and the four of us went for a walk. In fact, they did a lot of nonsense, but the most interesting thing happened after the phrase “I want to ride on carts.” Let's go look. There wasn't a single store, although there were three nearby. Then we remembered that right in the dorm, for some reason unknown to us, there were carts in the second section in a nook, about 15 of them. We found them exactly where we expected them, but we don’t know how to get them out into the street. As a result of a collective brainstorming, it was decided to throw the carts off the second floor balcony, there is just a canopy there, you can stand on it and it will be comfortable. We took them there, rolled them out onto the canopy and thought they might break. While the three of us were thinking, our friend shouted “whatever!” threw one cart onto the grass. When the second one was already on the ground, we noticed that they were all flying through the fence. There was nowhere to go - they climbed over and took it away. One did break, and our peculiar friend went alone to break it completely, throwing it down the stairs several times in the passage. The second one was taken to the dorm yard. When a friend finally climbed into it, the cart bent and broke. We laughed for a long time. No one took a ride, but this same cart was discovered in the morning in his kitchen by our mutual friend, whose indignation could not be expressed in censored words. But we still have no idea how the guys moved the broken shopping cart through the guards of the third building.

global flood

Alexander

It happened about 3 years ago, when it was raining wildly in the summer in July. The entire dorm was flooded. I then lived on the 19th floor, that is, almost on top of the dorm. The water also reached us. It was fine for me, since at that moment I was moving to the floor below (the water didn’t reach there), I took away almost all my things, but my neighbor, who lived in the apartment, was flooded in a way that was not childish. I remember that even on the floor, water was gushing from the electrical panel. It was a little scary. They say that the drain from the dorm broke off (it couldn’t withstand the pressure), so water poured into the apartments. Poor people from the 25th floor, I don’t know how they survived. It was also impossible to approach the building itself at that time, because there were puddles about 5 centimeters deep right around the entire dorm. The basement was flooded, the Internet, electricity and even water were turned off. For a couple of days we lived as in a primitive society.

Weird desires

Victoria

We played a game of desire with a friend and girlfriend, as a result, during the night, a tipsy friend made a wheel on the visor of the second building, she rolled a tire from the sports ground to the security of the first building and persuaded the guard to let her through, and I burst into other people’s apartments, like Deadpool, with plastic knives.

It all ended with us climbing onto the roof of a five-story building next to the third building when it was pouring terrible rain outside.

An offer you can't refuse

One day we were sitting in a chat room and quietly and peacefully watching “Mr. Nobody” with our neighbor. Botalka is located opposite the most party apartment on the floor. Suddenly a bearded guy in a vest and a hat with earflaps on his head burst into our room and asked: “Girls, don’t you want to fall into madness?” Then he came in a couple more times and clarified: “Are you sure you don’t want to fall into madness?” It was such an unusual movie show that day.

Compliment

Paul

I'm walking from the gym to my building. I see a paper airplane lying on the sidewalk, with the words “Open me up” written on it. Well, I opened it, and there was an inscription: “You are the best!” It made me happy.

Hide and seek game: us and the guards

Novel

One day we bought alcohol and went to our section. So the guards on duty burned us because we were staggering there, and they said that they were now drawing up reports. We got rid of them by going to celebrate a friend's birthday. However, they still found us in the apartment of the student they remembered. I had to retreat to another section. Having quickly separated, we agreed to gather in a certain place; I and another person went to the next section. We get into the elevator, but we don’t have time to leave, it’s still a bit too cold, and then the attendants come in again. We don’t want to commit acts, but we also don’t want to give up fun. Therefore, we press the first button we come across, exit on the floor, go into what is supposedly our apartment and fall silent. There was a bit of a silent scene in the kitchen, where we apologized and said that this was the circumstances and we would leave soon. The matter ended with the party calmly continuing in another apartment, where everyone gathered again.

Back to USSR

Georgiy

Once in Dubki there was a shift of duty officers who prohibited having sex, citing the rules of living in the hostel, the clause “providing a bed for another person.” They literally tracked down who was sleeping where with whom and burst in at the most inopportune moment. I had to talk with the administration of the hostel about this shift so that there were no excesses, and I wrote a funny guide to everyone who fell or theoretically could fall under this distribution. I don’t know about the current rules, but in the old ones there was a wonderful conflict regarding situations when you are having sex in a room, and a shift of duty officers comes in, and at the same time, the shift of duty officers does not tactfully leave, but for some reason starts downloading your license (and this happened ). The trick is that according to the rules it was “you cannot provide a bed to other people” and all that, that is, according to the rules, you could not allow a situation where you are out of bed and your girlfriend is in it. In the other three possible relative positions of you and the bed (both of you on the bed, both of you out of the bed, you on the bed and she not) you simply slept together, and sex is not prohibited by the rules.

Ballad of parting

Arseny

One cold winter evening, Vasya and Vanya decided to raid the bar together. Before this meeting, Vasya and Vanya knew each other only from a meager set of messages on one popular social network. Word after word, bar after bar, it came down to drunken hugs and kisses. Cocktails set softly, time flew quickly, and soon it was already one in the morning, and since Vanya lived in luxury hostel No. 8 near Moscow, and the trains had not been running for a long time, he and Vasya decided that the first would stay the night with Vasya in one of the Moscow dormitories. Don't spend the night on the street. Upon arrival at the hostel, the tired heroes collapsed on the bed, but the story was just beginning: the neighbor was wildly enraged by the presence of the left guest. She was so angry that in the morning the commandant kicked Vanya out of the hostel, threatening him with an act and expulsion. Vasya was also scolded by his vassals. Vasya told the head of the hostel about the new difficulties of his already difficult life. Emotions and memories from the years he lived with his neighbor came over Vasya, he could not stop the flow of tears. The very evening of the next day, with the blessing of the manager, Vasya left his cozy nest forever and went to settle into a new, unknown room. After this incident, Vasya realized that he should not become attached to things, give them the upper hand, let them take over himself, otherwise, when trying to change his usual environment, it would be too physically difficult, and he would have to tear away too much from himself.

Loss of a fighter

Boris

Once we went to celebrate something unknown and with what large group of friends. We hung out in the first building. Suddenly one guy from our company fought back. Imagine my surprise when I found him four floors below, sleeping on the floor near the elevators.

Dorm modern

Anton

Once the door to the room was slightly damaged, but... it still had to be changed, it was decided not to stop at the small hole and make a small installation. At that time, the administration often threatened me for not paying money for the dorm. A combination of circumstances gave rise to such an idea. The door is decorated, a “person is killed,” photographs are taken, and everything is posted online. Perhaps after this all the debtors paid for their stay fairly quickly. Unfortunately, the administration did not provide statistics, and we did not ask. In fact, the series of photographs is better than the story itself.

Living separately from men is called lesbian separatism. I was wondering what the same thing for men should be called.
— Radiotechnical Institute.

Associate Professor of the Department of Algebra at BSU Pavel Trofimovich Kozel (emphasis on the first syllable) often posted notices on the faculty board about rescheduling special courses. Every time, within five minutes, two bright dots appeared above the second vowel of his last name.
Until the age of 40, he was single and had an evil character.
They were very afraid of him. He held the math department record - 17 D's in the group. The record stood for a long time, causing respect from teachers and trembling from students.
junior students could not understand whether Kozel was satisfied with the answer - his face was impenetrable. Then the senior students explained that if the bald spot is red, it will be an A, and if the ears are red, it will be a D.
By the age of 40 (to the complete surprise of everyone), he suddenly got married, began to smile, greet everyone, stopped giving bad marks, in short, that’s what marriage can’t do to a person.
I got it in my 4th year, when I was already married. I was once passing an exam for him, and at that time Dean Aleksey Adamovich entered the classroom and, in a voice full of tragedy, informed Kozel that Volvachev had just given 18 “Fs” in one group.
How the Goat’s face lit up, how it lit up with a joyful light, how his happy voice rang like a bell!
The dean was taken aback:
- Pavel Trofimovich, why are you happy?
— I’m no longer a record holder!

From the notes of ethnographers. If anyone doesn’t know who ethnographers are, remember Shurik from “Prisoner of the Caucasus”, how he collected all sorts of legends, described traditions, recorded rituals... But this is all a movie... But what is it like in life, in reality - read yourself!)))
On one of the expeditions, a researcher working on gender issues tortures a grandmother with details of the traditions of bed life - what she and her husband did, when they did it and how they did it. The old woman denies: “Why should I? I’ll just lie there.” The conversation is recorded on a voice recorder. The recorder is given to a student to be transcribed; we note that she is very young, but conscientious and writes down everything literally. In the decoding, the grandmother’s phrase was recorded literally: “What’s the point? I’m licking myself and licking it.” Like everything is simple, traditional.
Student interns make a description of the home. House made of adobe bricks. from the city, and they don’t know what adobe is, but they bring adobe bricks as an exhibit. I explain that adobe is made from clay and manure; the use of manure in village farming is common. They make a description, pointedly holding their nose, and the card describing the exhibit is entitled “Ordinary shitty brick.”
During all expeditions, copies of household books of rural administrations are made. These books contain information about all residents of the village - full name, relationship to the head of the family, gender, age, education, place of work, etc. One day, first-year students who were making extracts from household books returned with round eyes and stated that "This village is full of blacks." They also ask everyone: “Have you seen blacks here?” Lord, what kind of blacks can there be in the Siberian wilderness, where from? It turned out that in the household books, opposite many surnames there was the entry “Negro”. Short for "illiterate".
Field workers can hardly be surprised by any living conditions. They lived in cowsheds, in “red corners” (one of them was nicknamed “rat corner” for the abundance of rats), and in gyms (some on uneven bars, some on ropes), and in abandoned haunted houses, and in dorms with construction workers (with ghosts - safer).
Toilets always have a special flavor. You can organize a toilet extreme competition. One of the nominees, of course, can be considered the toilet in the village of Margenau, Omsk region. Everything was normal there. Except for the doors. They simply weren't there. In the end, we found a sheet of cardboard that we had to hold in front of us in our hands, otherwise it would not work. In height it covered a seated person approximately up to the neck. It would seem nothing special. Are there many toilets without doors? Except for one circumstance. This toilet overlooked the busiest road in the region. During the expedition, its participants greeted motorists speeding along the Moscow-Vladivostok highway.
Expedition of a German detachment. We go to the village by bus. The village is dirty, which does not correspond to the stereotypical ideas about the German Ordnung. The leader, looking around, expresses doubts: it seems that there are no Germans left here, everyone has left, I don’t know whether it’s worth setting up a base here, and, turning to the students, ask if there are still Germans here.
A first-year student, apparently deciding not to put the matter off, leans waist-deep out of the bus window and loudly yells to an old woman passing by: “Grandma! Are there Germans in the village?!” The old woman is shocked, and the student has the nickname “partisan”.

— It remains to explain how a sinusoid flows through straight wires and the section can be completed
— A sine wave does not flow well through straight wires. To improve flow, the wires are twisted into a twisted pair.

A distant relative came to visit me. I don’t even remember the degree of relationship, but I don’t deny it either. The guy graduated from law school. I wanted to get some advice on future employment. Looks like I was on the list of possibly helpful people. I inquired about the specialization. He said he was studying to become a judge. He confirmed my vague guesses, saying that he was doing this at a private, licensed university. I did not talk about civil and criminal law. As best as he could, he carefully advised me to get a job in the staff of some court, preferably a district one. It is necessary to study the work of this body practically, under the guidance of experienced people. In the future, if possible, earn their recommendation for a similar appointment. This is a journey of more than one year, and here you need to be prepared for apparently routine work, for not very much money. He indignantly rejected this, saying that he was completely ready. Seeing no point in further discussions, he advised me to send a telegram to the president a month before receiving my diploma. The text is short, I’m waiting for your decree, everything is ready on my part. After some time, I learned that the teaching licenses of several private universities had been revoked.

In the first foreign The three of us got into practice, Vava, Chest and I.
The passenger ship Khabarovsk was on the Nakhodka – Yokohama line. We weren't lazy or malicious, but we were stupid, of course. Well, how not to be stupid, judge for yourself. Having grasped the theory of the structure of the ship, internal combustion engines, steam boilers, air conditioning, automation of all kinds of ship systems, you, the mechanic, together with the mechanic, almost for the first time in your life, carry out a full-fledged navigation watch.
In order to imagine the engine room of a ship, imagine yourself as a little person in the engine compartment of a car. To what you will find there, add an auxiliary steam boiler with its systems, four to six diesel generators, a couple of separators for preparing heavy fuel for the main engine, water supply systems, sewerage systems, etc. and so on. And then start it all up, turn it on and fire it up. And don't forget that you are still under the hood, and the noise is so loud that you can't hear your own voice.
So the second mechanic, the individual with whom I was on watch, had not heard of rare pedantry. Standing one and a half meters behind him, I shouted at the back of his head with all my might: “Fag@ras!” – And instantly made a distant face. He turned around sharply, discerning subtle changes in the hellish noise, and stared at me intently with his eyes. My task was to enjoy the moment and not laugh. The entire engine team was directly subordinate to the second mechanic, and his constant noise infuriated every single one of them.
Among other things, on all four flights that we made to Ioku, he endlessly told us about the terrible characteristics that he would write to us at the end of the practice.
And I came up with this trick.
In Yokohama, I purchased a “pilot” ballpoint pen, which wrote indistinguishably from ordinary black ballpoint pens, but the composition of the ink in it, applied to the paper, was like rubber.
Without leaving marks on the paper, it was easily removed with a regular eraser.
At the end of the practice, we carefully filled out the prepared characteristics forms with personal data, and in the lined part of it, intended specifically for the essence of the characteristics, we put a huge letter “Z” on the entire page, leaving space for the date and signature of the second mechanic.
In response to his silent question, we explained that no one in the seafarer cares about his characteristics, and the signature is supposedly needed only to confirm the very fact of completing the internship.
And then, when we erased the drawn Zs and began to write our own characteristics, our wild fantasies were hardly slowed down by a sense of proportion and common sense.
You can imagine what valuable specialists we turned out to be for the fleet.
All the characteristics ended dryly and monotonously: At home and at work, he is neat and sober.

I remember we had a tough teacher in general psychology. He had two ratings - 2 and 5, and, as you understand, the first one dominated. So he told us: “Don’t bring me Wikipedia as a source. Because Wikipedia is written by people like you, not by people like me.” Severe psych department.

At our School, in those distant times, now almost epic (c), we had the most terrible subject - SOPROMAT! This thing was scarier than the termekh and the nachetalka combined. Sixty percent of our applicants received a diploma. (Moscow Higher Technical School named after Bauman). And a significant part of those eliminated failed precisely at SOPROMATH. What is the “Vereshchagin Rule” from SOPROMAT? For those who don’t know, there is one - one of the fundamental ones.
At this exam, the most terrible subject, the professor, famous for his terrible cruelty, asks the poor fellow a question: Tell me Vereshchagin’s rule.
Studen, without even thinking, says: “Vereshchagin, get off the boat!”
The professor, without saying a word, gave him a high five!
Like this!

I study at the Faculty of Philology, took the Latin language, and for the exam I had to learn 30 aphorisms. We were lucky with the teacher - a woman with humor. In practice, before the exam, she said, instead of the banal “Hello,” when entering the classroom, quote: “Hail, Caesar, those who have come to die greet you!” In Latin, accordingly. No sooner said than done. We passed, almost everyone got A's!))

About bullshit in the middle of the diploma.
Let's correct the original story first. The story, after all, is that a certain doctor of science celebrated the tenth anniversary of his defense. At this event, he demonstrated his dissertation, or, more precisely, the text “to anyone who reads this far within 10 years from the date of defense, I undertake to offer a box of cognac.” According to the author, the box remained unclaimed.
Now the post-bike ones.
A particular graduate of Moscow State University, moreover, the physics department, and the traffic police, whose permission to publish personal data I did not receive :), heard this story and decided to imitate the greats. He couldn’t provide cognac, so, as an honest person, he simply wrote in the middle of the diploma “and I won’t give the derivation of this equation, because no one will read it here anyway.” And he happily showed all his friends this phrase BEFORE the defense. And precisely in the copy that he later handed over to the commission.
During the defense, listening to another monotonous report from another graduate, the bored chairman of the commission, thoughtfully, opened his thesis in the first place available. The first place that came across turned out to be exactly the one where the diploma had already been opened six hundred one hundred and twenty-five times, and the book was “developed” - that is, the page with the mentioned phrase.
Here the graduate did not blush, but turned pale, because he urgently had to explain that very equation. Which was not easy to do offhand.
But nothing, he defended himself after all.

Do you know what diameter/radius is? Married life.
I work at a metal-cutting machine. At one time I decided to change my occupation and was trained from scratch in production to become a CNC operator. Later he himself taught the basics to other guys. Once, while explaining to one of the interns, I noticed that he somehow didn’t really understand what I was trying to explain to him:
- You understand? You know that we measured the diameter and wrote down the radius in the table? Do you know what radius is?
- No, I do not know.
- What do you mean you don’t know? Do you understand what diameter is?
- No.
Suddenly? Don't believe it? But the intern was not even yesterday’s schoolboy, but a graduate of the Bashkir Construction College with a degree in industrial and civil engineering! Later I remembered that during my training at the factory, my mentors asked me this question and then it seemed stupid to me: “How can an adult not know what a radius is? Yes, this is one of the foundations of everything!”
“Well, probably the guy just doesn’t know definitions>,” I thought and drew a circle on paper:
- Draw where the radius is, where the diameter is.
The intern draws two more circles inside my circle.
Having been impressed by the truth that had revealed to me all day, I lay in bed at night. I’m thinking: at what point does a person learn what a radius/diameter is (meaning >; in the everyday sense, when a person begins to understand that here is a circle, and here is its radius). And what “type of thinking” do you have to understand this? Must be mathematical and technical? Well, this is easy to find out:
- Wife, wake up. Do you know what radius is? Diameter? — My wife is not a techie at all, but a philologist-journalist.
-Are you crazy? What a radius, what a diameter—one in the morning! What's happened?
- Yes, that's a long time to explain. Can you say in your own words what radius is?
- Circle size. What happened? What are you trying on in bed at night? ...
That is, after all, this is not some kind of sacred knowledge kept from outsiders. And the “non-techie”, who has calmly graduated and has not encountered geometry except in everyday life, can at one in the morning in a dream give an answer where to dig in order to find the definition of “radius”.
The evening of the next day, I decided to find out at what age a person learns that there is such a term “radius” and asked my second-grader daughter (“well, they’re unlikely to pass in the second grade,” I thought, “it will be clear whether it’s necessary to study in

Many people know that after receiving a Baumanka diploma, graduates participate in "basins". These are traditional rides on basins and other convenient objects from the staircases of the hostel and the courtyards around. During the skating, the graduates drink and shout to each other: “Who is the engineer?” - and in response they bang their heads in orange helmets.
The year before last, eyewitnesses talked about one graduate who received a honors diploma, who sat in the middle of this chaos and answered every cry with a sigh, looking into the distance: “Nobody is an engineer.”

I don’t know how people have fun in dorms now, but when we studied, it was like this.
The dorm has 2 wings, each with a corridor system and a common washbasin with sinks and a shower. A student washes in the shower in one of them. His clothes hang on a hook, which is attached to the only wall without tiles - to the door...
What are his friends doing? That's right - they lock the room, remove the shower door from its hinges and take it away along with the clothes.
His actions? Not getting into the room, he rushes to the other wing in the hope of hiding in the second shower stall. But - not his day! - someone is washing there. What to do? A girl can walk into the washroom at ANY moment.
The very first decision is usually the most correct.
And here we, first-year students, sitting in our rooms, hear a heartbreaking, intriguing cry:
- DON'T GO HEREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! There's a fucking man here!!!

I’m sitting at the department, I hear students giggling in the corridor. I go out and read with them the announcement printed by the secretary:
“Who is Ivanov, who is Petrov, when is Monday 12:10, where is audience 312.”
At the top of the piece of paper I write the heading, forgotten by the secretary - “Schedule of mutual visits of teachers.”
I show them my fist, they still laugh.

We had a teacher at KPI who, if you were late for a class, had to come up with a reason (even if it was not true), otherwise he wouldn’t let you in. In addition, these “reasons” should not have been repeated to anyone during the semester. Accordingly, it all started with the banal “overslept”, and at the end of the semester there were simply pearls. And here are the funniest of them (T-teacher, S-student):
1. P: Why are you late?
S: Overslept.
P: It was.
S: Got lost.
P: It was.
S: The tire went flat on the subway.
P: So why didn’t you pump it up right away? Come in.

2. Q: Why are you late?
S: I shot a grandmother from wood. (Not even realizing what he blurted out)
P: So, there must be someone who took the cat across the road. Come in.

3. In one of the groups in front of his pairs there were laboratory tests with a rather pretty teacher. Next dialogue:
P: Why were you late?
S: Anna Sergeevna tormented me...
The flow "wakes up". Someone begins to chuckle quietly.
P: Okay, sit down.
The student sits down at his desk and immediately puts his head in his hands, preparing to get some sleep. 15 minutes pass...
P: Why don’t you write notes?
S: I didn't sleep all night...
Almost everyone present, in unison: Anna Sergeevna tormented him!

Community kitchen. Some bastard stole my borscht chicken. Nobody admits.
I thought a lot about how to kill the thief. I came up with an idea, dispelled the gloomy thoughts, and went to execute it. The recipe goes like this:
Two or three bottles of ammonia are poured into a saucepan with a VERY tight lid, after which the pan, slightly doused with borscht, is left on the stove. All. The thief is identified by screaming and/or dropping the lid.

I remembered several jokes from life in a student dormitory. In the section where I lived there was a room that, either by accident or on purpose, was occupied by 4 notorious dunces. They did all sorts of things... they screwed each other’s shoes to the floor with self-tapping screws, hid the bed (entirely) in the shower, and so on. Of all this disgrace, the following is most memorable:
I go into their room, followed by one of its residents, having returned from the shower, this unfortunate man, unsuspectingly, went to his bedside table, took out a roll-on antiperspirant and actually used it for its intended purpose, the process of smearing his armpits was accompanied by choked laughs, at times turning into hysterical laughter . The guy looked around stupidly, trying to understand what the catch was...
Later, these idiots told me that they picked out a ball of antiperspirant, poured out the contents and poured in “Cinderella”, which was practically no different in color or consistency. The unfortunate man never understood or learned anything...

I’m studying to become an electrician, and judging by me and my classmates, after we graduate, half of us will be immediately electrocuted, and the other half will leave at least half of Russia without electricity for a long time.

I'm a law student and decided to order pizza for my dorm on the occasion of a classmate's birthday.
I call the delivery service and explain where the educational building is.
And the courier is like: “Yes, I know, I also graduated from law school...”
Motivates..

This happened in my second year at the Odessa KSMSC.
Our dean is standing in the toilet and, as is usual in such places, he urinates, holding his dick with his right hand.
Then, out of nowhere, Seryoga bursts into the toilet and loudly, so that he jumped, yells at him: “Hello, Alexander Vladimirovich!”
Having recovered from his fright, the dean calmly shifts the piece from his right hand to his left and shakes Seryoga’s hand: “Hello, Sergey.”

In a student dormitory, I saw an African who was frying something in the common kitchen. The smell is pleasant, and the dialogue goes something like this:
- What are you frying?
- Bananas.
- (with bewilderment)... why fry them?
- Why am I, a monkey, eating bananas raw?!!

Colleagues from Barnaul told how a student wearing slippers on his bare feet came to one of them (a professor, a zafkaf, a pretty woman) for an exam. It was cold, the professor asked if his feet were cold. The student reassured him that he had been terribly seasoned since childhood.
And then she noticed that he had put the notes on the floor and was turning the pages with his “bare” toes. Notice, she noticed, but for the time being she was silent. And when he turned the page, the “plug” came out (the pages stuck together), she quietly said to him, in a friendly way: “You should slobber on your fingers.”

We had a teacher at the department, Oleg Vladimirovich Suslov.
Essentially an intelligent teacher, he knew his job well and was not demanding and had a sense of humor.
The 4th year came, and I realized that good teachers need to be killed as quickly as possible. At that time, I was dating a girl from my university, and agreed to meet after classes. That day was the anniversary of our acquaintance and I bought flowers. I’m standing not far from the building, and an SMS arrives that they’re being detained.
In order not to waste time, I decided to go and negotiate about the diploma, I went to the department, and walked into the teaching room with a knock. Suslov stands and feeds a hamster in a cage, and cathedral teachers sit at the tables. I decided to joke and say, “Oleg Vladimirovich, be my thesis advisor,” b^& and then I remember that I came with a bouquet!
He answers “I agree.”
Curtain, the laboratory assistant choked on her sandwich from laughter))

This happened around 1997. I was then a 3rd year student at the Institute of World Languages ​​in Ashgabat.
We had such a subject “Culture of Speech” and it was taught by a teacher, such a refined intellectual (I don’t even remember the name, let’s say Natalya Vladimirovna), who was so old that she told how she danced with pilot officers on the dance floor long before the war! !! (In the “Age” column it says “They don’t live that long”)
In short, due to her advanced age, she read her lectures almost in a half-whisper, and at that time we quietly and peacefully dozed off.
And then one day a lesson is going on, in the silence of the audience her whisper is barely audible, suddenly, this must happen, a button breaks off her dress and falls to the floor with a characteristic sound.
Nothing would have happened and we would have continued to snore peacefully if this sound of a falling button had not forced Vitya Zelyanodzhevo, a well-known joker throughout the institute, to open his sleepy eyelids and utter a phrase that later became legendary.
Now imagine from the very beginning as a slow motion shot: in the silence a button falls, knocking on the wooden floor and Vitya:
- Your tooth fell off, Natalya Vladimirovna.
Curtain, the entire audience slides to the floor.
As they say, I cried.

My cousin told me.
He and a friend were getting ready to take another test. They skipped the entire semester, so on the day off, after the official exam, they went to the assistant professor’s apartment. Perhaps somehow we can persuade him.
When the assistant professor opened the door, it became clear that although the morning was earlier, it was already “warm.”
Let's go. The reverend opened his journals and was completely surprised to discover that these two had never appeared before him.
Well, like, why did you even come?
"And then Ostap got carried away..."
“You see,” said the brother, “my friend and I have a problem.”
- ?
- We're drinking.
- How do you drink???
- Well... We start on Friday evening after classes. Then Saturday. Sunday. What kind of lecture on Monday at 8 am could we be talking about???
Already on the staircase, the brother’s friend looked at his record book for a long time and repeated:
- How? How did we get this???
I had to bring him out of his stupor. Luckily there was a method...

There are 2 Arabs studying in my home group (one is from Sudan, the other is from Yemen), they stand out from our white-skinned brethren.
The guys are not bad, with a sense of humor. They speak with an accent, but overall they speak very well, with the exception of some confusion in the cases of the great and incorrigibly powerful, although, however, after a couple of glasses of tea, the language barrier completely disappears.
And we study at a medical university, the schedule is cyclical, i.e. one month - one item.
We somehow arrive at the next department, stand, change clothes. Some granny approaches (a nurse at the department) from those times of prehistoric materialism, when life in n#gr0v was studied from “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” He looks at them for a long time, then asks one:
- What is your name?
- Muhammad.
- And you?
- Ayman.
Then he gives a phrase that makes those present crawl down the walls:
- So you understand Russian, or what?
Ayman's reaction is immediate:
- Yes, and I also swear in Russian when they pester you with bad questions! :)
The expression on the old woman’s face was as if she would cross herself and shout: “Get lost, you unclean one!”

In the student 90s, our Tula Polytechnic University had a specialty in MiSU. Simply put, they were all called “gunsmiths”. And a couple of guys decided to implement a then fashionable joke about a Zaporozhets with a tank machine gun on the roof.
Naturally, they mounted not a machine gun on the roof, but a wooden model (to make it easier to prove to the traffic cops your innocence if they stopped you, although, as I understand it, they could have “rammed” a real one). They added a simple mechanism so that the muzzle could be turned without leaving the cab, and that’s how we started going to college.
They rode like this for several days before their dean (or head of the department, I don’t remember exactly) “caught” them.
Their conversation went something like this:
- Guys, take it off!
- Do we have democracy in our country?
- Yes.
- Is the machine gun on the roof real?
- No.
- Is the layout made with high quality? Are there any complaints about the correspondence to the real sample?
- No.
- Well, we want to go with the model! We have democracy!
With difficulty, the dean explained that it was impossible to scare to death everyone he met. He explained that such behavior is not humane and does not correspond to the high purpose of a Russian-speaking student (there was such a concept then). He explained that if someone dies from fear or gets into an accident, they will be imprisoned, and he will be fired from work for teaching how to make such high-quality samples. With difficulty I persuaded the model to be removed and given to the faculty museum.

Military department, state exam. A prerequisite for reaching the finals is the commission's supply of cognac and vodka in quantities adequate to positions and titles. Losing means two years with a “jacket” in the valiant Armed Forces. The exams have been going on for almost two weeks. Friends who have not passed through this purgatory are drying crackers.
And then our group leader (in military parlance - platoon commander) came up with a brilliant solution. A case of beer and a case of Buratino soda were purchased. Both boxes were placed in the tub and then we re-labeled them.
Exam. Members of the commission, burdened by a two-week binge, are trying to widen the slits of their eyes. On a table covered with green cloth, there are groups of bottles with the label "Pinocchio". Some major, out of despair, opens one bottle, takes a sip with disgust, and then within a split second draws in the life-giving moisture of beer.
The good news immediately spread among the committee members, and the exam scenario changed radically. Our entire group (platoon) received excellent marks. During the general formation, the general, chairman of the commission, separately noted our “platoon” for demonstrating military ingenuity.

This story happened during the spring session at one of the technical universities in Moscow.
First a preface.
There were four groups in our faculty. Representatives of three of them were especially friendly with each other and with beer.
So, on the date, say, May 23, 199 of the shaggy year (I don’t remember exactly when), the guys and girls of one of the groups (let them be “the first”) closed the session; the representatives of the other two groups faced the last test the next day, each with their own. And, moreover, we (let’s say, the “second” group) have a fairly serious exam, while our no less “lucky” colleagues from the “third” group have a so-so test. But the trick was that the exam had to be taken by a rather serious auntie, but it was not difficult to find an approach to her. And a representative of the “third” group found such an approach.

The story is told by a very serious and sensible person.
So, a very famous and very prestigious university, the beginning of the session, students receive foreign language tests. The bulk of them received their tests, and the teacher was left alone with the main goof of the group.
The teacher looks at his journal, sadly shakes his head and says, “I can’t give you a test.”
The student asks, what should he do?
Teacher: We need ten thousand...
Everything else happens without a pause and very quickly.
The student gets up, takes out his wallet, and puts money on the table, commenting “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven... oh, I only have seven, tomorrow I’ll bring three more,” and rushes to leave.
The crazy teacher, after hanging for ten seconds, stops the student with the words: We need to translate ten thousand... characters by Thursday.
These are the kind of specialists we will have in three or four years :)