Xxx: I was in the camp only once, but I remembered it forever. I was in class at 6-7.

I was sick, so I had a stomach, defined my illness as constipation and sent for a cyst. I run out of the office to the side of the push. I covered the mutation with my hand. And in front of the other office, losing the cowards, she runs away. We met in the middle of the hallway next to the toilet. I, as a true gentleman, give in to the lady, and I myself try to understand will bring to the bushes on the doorstep or better right here in the flower pot to drop the load from the soul. And then she screams from the inside, “There are two points!“”

Seated mentally.



Yyy: The first really cute story about shit

Xxx: I have a colleague at work, Russian. His name is Wahhabit. He loves to grow his beard. They are constantly checked at the airport. We tell him, at least before you go on a business trip, shave your beard and then grow it.

and broke. We are on the planeët, and it brakes. The whole is burnt, and where the beard is wë white. The terrorist was burned 😉

The case takes place in the United States. I go home, adjusting for the working pickup of some water piper. In horror I see that on the steel rear bumper of the pickup lies a small size gas key, somewhere in the size of my hand. He will soon fall off on the road. If such a bandour arrives in the forehead, then it will definitely beat everything to the appropriate mother, at least.

He decided carefully, observing the distance, to drive for the pipeline to his destination to tell him about the danger. It didn’t take long until the nearest gas station.

From the pickup comes out a large good-hearted bearded child and begins to fill fuel.

Oh my friend! - I start with you here from the bumper almost the gas key has not fallen!

What a key? A! This is this?

Here the child approaches the rear bumper and pins the gas key of an impressive size with a boot. The pickup shakes, but the key remains in place.

I brought him to the bumper.

Why Why?? I am asking in the hustle.

So why why? Keep the distance! Here I looked at you in the mirror, you first did not see him, and then as you noticed, so immediately slowed down and carefully drove noticeably away from me. Everyone is doing so now!

People are like birds: just some fly, and others - stumble.

The story of a real scientist.

Maybe not very funny, but life-affirming.
In general, there was one Indian boy Suren. By mistake, he was born and lived in future Pakistan. When the two states were divided and the artillery went to battle, he and his family, in some cowards (or maybe the maika was on him?) He fled to New Delhi. Who once went through the loss of everything, they say that the second time is easier. Here he, with 50 cents in his pocket, as a young specialist broke into Canada.

In Montreal, he developed medicines for one farm. The company. One day, he got a soil sample from the Easter Island and noticed that the soil samples contained strange bacteria that slowed the growth of mushrooms. For the scientist "smelled" a new medicine, for, neither much nor little, for immortality! Suren fought him like a child, tried to get him wherever possible and named Rapamitsin (the island of Easter - Rapa Nui in local). If a barrel of honey falls "from the sky", then it is necessary with such additives that it is not possible! In our case, the drug not only "slowed" the growth of cells but also suppressed immunity. Who will eat it? Especially for money? The company closed the development, the laboratory dismantled, part of the staff moved to the United States, and the drug was destroyed.

Well, rather, it was ordered to destroy everything, but after all, it was not a German to follow the instructions, but almost our man, a Hindu. And it was his favorite "child", and children cannot be killed. Suren packed the container in dry ice and carried the smuggling through the U.S. border and began storing the drug at home in the refrigerator.
Years went by and mankind became acquainted with the miracle of organ transplantation. But there was a “small” problem. Transplanted organs are often rejected by the immune system. Doctors, at conferences, motherly words mocked such a response of immunity, patients "moved horses", but the farm had nothing to offer.

Our Hindu, for years, went to the bosses: why not try my drug? The headquarters imposed a resolution that the idea, of course, is healthy, but not practical - everything has long been destroyed. Suren persisted, you know, not all samples are destroyed. What?! And he pulled the container out of his refrigerator and a miracle! The drug is not damaged in 5 years of storage.
At hand, without a case, there was one graduate student, also an Asian. The Hindu gave the samples in the thick feet with the words: Do you want a Ph.D?! Go ahead my friend! The mouse blood flowed through the river, the postgraduate student stopped sleeping, because what he saw did not climb into any frame and was not described in any book. The result of the experiments was several discoveries, such as mTOR.
Samples were also sent to other laboratories, everything was confirmed and there was a rumor about the miracle. The doctors flocked to the smell, bended the FDA and began to give it to patients (no tail, no mice!) A great drug. And the immune response was suppressed and the body revived normally! What if I give to those who have a tube in their hearts? It works too!! and etc.

The fame grew and Suren remained a rich man, but became immortal during his lifetime. He was arranged tours to the hospital with children (with transplants), where they explained that it was the uncle who discovered Rapamicin and you are alive thanks to him! The rumor went through the hospital and already parents and other patients broke for autographs, grabbed the hand of the Hindu and just looked with admiration. It is for such moments that unknown scientists are torn in small laboratories. Not everyone has time to save mankind for their short ungrateful scientific life. Suriname was lucky.
In such moments the Hindu was pleased as an elephant that it was his contribution to the salvation of people. Especially considering that he was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, colon. His life, and not only as a scientist, was coming to an end. The doctor gave him six months. His wife asked him to spend time with her and her grandchildren.

A true professional does not lose courage in the face of death. He went to work and did experiments. But this time he spent another and secret, on himself! The logic was iron - if this thing slows down the growth of cells, maybe it will help with cancer too? The scientist is interested :) Without a doctor’s prescription, he took the drug in the laboratory and instead of mice, began to take it himself. Six months later, he was alive. Six months later, the tumor does not grow. He began to speak at conferences in different countries, already with this, a new discovery, wrote articles.

But one thing did not give him rest: along with taking his drug, he also underwent standard procedures, chemotherapy, etc. The question remains, what exactly continued his life? My wife stopped drinking. The standard procedures? Or his bacteria? This question could only be answered in one way. Stop taking experimental medication. His hand did not shake, he stopped. Another 6 months passed, the cancer got a second start and reached the lungs. An Asian postgraduate student, more precisely a PhD at the time. And my wife was terrified by such a “last check.” But in vain they begged Suren to start taking medicine again, the truth for the Scientist above all else!

And he died as a true macho, with an oxygen mask on a balde, smiling at 32 teeth and re-writing a scientific article on the anti-tumor properties of rapamycin.

Parisians would continue to celebrate the Day of the Bastille, had it not been for the evening prayer.