My name is Eugene. I always forget the names. When I get into strange companies where there are men, and after dating I forget their names, I usually call them by the name of Zhenya. Then they say to me, “I am not Zhenya, but Dima.” And I start to laugh and say, “Oh shit, sure, Zhenya is me.” Usually everyone laughs, and an uncomfortable moment can be avoided.

A man goes to a colonoscopy.

The doctor, sitting, does not look at the patient, fills the papers, says:

Go over the screen, dress up, wear single-use trousers.

Don’t worry, it’s not scary at all.

The man was not on a colonoscopy, never seen cowards with a cut.

I pulled the back forward, pulling out the "farm".

The doctor turns to the man and says thoughtfully:

Now I am scared...

To fly, you need not have wings, but a plane ticket.

In the first days of January 1982, I, a newly-cooked lieutenant of the militia, went from Central Russia on a trip to the Transcarpathians.
And how it was not to go if, in one of my first criminal cases on fraud, the citizen of G. G. 1910 was detained in Moscow, who was declared by me in all-Union search. convicted of theft and fraud.
During the interrogations, which took place at me as usual “in a warm friendly environment”, the arrested person told me that in one of the last episodes of the accusation she sold the stolen jewelry to the staff of the sanatorium in Western Ukraine.
I was always going to “only belt,” so on Christmas 7 January I was already in Uzhgorod. Overnight in the hotel, in the morning was in a sanatorium near the city.
The director of the sanatorium treated my mission with understanding, helped me in its execution, but warned that I should be introduced to the local ments. I didn’t mind, especially because I counted on their help.
First appeared the district Vanya, then came two more "shops", dressed as a citizen. To me, at the height of 170 all the two-meter men seem to be cabinets.
They turned out to be employees of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Ukrainian SSR, who guarded the resting in the sanatorium of the Deputy Minister of Internal Affairs of Ukraine. In general, they were four, guarded and rested alternately in pairs. They had their room in the sanatorium with an enormous bed.
The guys instructed Van to provide me with all the necessary help, as it was necessary to work in the settlements. Closer to the evening, we and Vanessa established all the buyers, interrogated, confiscated the values. We went to the cafe to drink tea, drank, as usual, vodka (but from the tea bar). They took vodka and vodka with them (Vanja found) to serve colleagues, and returned to the sanatorium. I had to go home the next morning. The “guarded body” went to sleep, so everyone relaxed.
We sat down with the guys five in their room to “talk” and ate dinner together. The question of the place of my bedroom did not arise at all. We communicated very mentally and qualitatively (the boys also "were" and a lot), so in the morning I found my body on the above-described bed in the same pile with the bodies of all four bodyguards lying on the fold.
Well, they fed me breakfast, wished me a happy trip and spent. The impressions of that meeting remained the warmest of all.
And even more pleasant impressions added a girl traveler who was driving in my coupe to Moscow. She just got smoked fat and homemade sausage out of her bags, the whole wagon was swallowed with saliva, and our coupe delicacies more delicious than I have never tried since.
What did I remember? The Soviet ments always found a common language among themselves, because in general they did one thing – they fought crime, although they regularly distracted us to all kinds of nonsense such as someone’s protection or participation in all sorts of events held “for the hole”. In a dreamy dream, we could not have dreamed that we could become enemies.

Interview for job admission:
HR Department employee: Are you planning to go on maternity leave in the next five years?
I: And you?
I think this is an inappropriate question!
I: I totally agree with you!

My mother’s acquaintance’s husband worked as a guard somewhere in the North and brought a second family there. Later, he found a good job in his town and moved this second family closer. In both families there were daughters, the second younger, naturally. On the spot, of course, burned in front of his wife, divorced, and he married a "what woman." But the child from the first marriage did not give up, helped financially, took with him for the weekend. The first wife did not object, the 90s, was pleased with both financial help and household: take the child from kindergarten / school, take it to the clinic, etc., because of the fact that the child was not allowed to go to the hospital. She worked a lot herself. The new wife felt guilty and tried to make friends with that daughter too. Then, in the second family, a tragedy happened - a child died, a car struck. The new one was not born, all the attention eventually got to the daughter from the first marriage, including the attention of the second wife. Years went by, this man died, the daughter continued to communicate periodically with his second wife - the relatives were far away, friends of close friends did not come to a new place, well, the type is not a strange person, then with the children she even helped, calling them her grandchildren. This second wife was diagnosed with cancer. I needed help: to go to the hospital with her, to visit, help at home, financial. And to turn to no one, it turned out that closer to the first family of the husband, this woman has no one nearby. And the daughter of this family, the work, she came to her mother - said, here, the trouble is such, not a strange man, like to give up, we need to help together. Well, in general, now this first wife took the second wife to live with her - so it is easier to take care of, but it is quite bad. She carries the duck, helps to wash, puts anesthesia, prepares for her, leads to doctors. She laughs that if she had been told many years ago that she would look after her husband's mistress at old age, she would have rushed in the face. And now the kind of relative thinks she is, say, not a stranger, but like to give up.