I have in the profile of the dating site somehow was written "212-85-06 - this is my number". Many wrote that they could not call and what code.

At the age of 13, I was a rarely ugly child: a very thin acne worm with a large head and curved teeth. My mother embarrassed me and all the puberty period tried to keep me away from family and acquaintances, for the whole summer she sent me to the pioneer camp. The pioneer camp consisted of barracks with children, an administration building and four toilets. Toilets consisted of a brick bucket, a hole that closed this hole of wooden ceiling with holes and shit with chlorine. Dirt with chlorine smelled, so toilets were carefully built away from residential premises and placed with bushes.



Girls thought I was a boy for a long time. They were not friends with me. That fateful night, midnight diarrhea became my only companion.



The whole camp was swept: the green fruits, the unwashed hands of the cook, and all the shit that the pioneers ate with hunger, did their job. The holes in the toilet were filled with the troubled stomachs of four hundred people and the girls went to the toilet in pairs: one is stunned, the other is lit with a lamp, so that the first does not fall into the breakdown products of the predecessors. No one wanted to light a lamp on me, so that night I swept out a saltwater in proud solitude; in the dim light of the lamp only the contours were visible, and, sitting over the hole, I accepted that I had already fallen into someone's slippery shit. Suddenly, some shadow struck me, I stumbled, shook sharply with an unstable body, my legs walked through someone’s diarrhea, and I got into the spot like a well-smashed gillette. The fucking! A flying mouse has driven me through the belt into a bunch of shit, a point is blurred over my head, if someone comes to hurt now, my situation will worsen. Must go out!



Half an hour later, whispering and whispering at the mat, I reached the point with my hands: it was, fucking, difficult... all the hard supports were slippery like ice! Taking hold of the edges of the hole, I stretched and pushed my head: my head turned from the fresh air, and I held on the conquered positions only with the will to freedom. Stretched further and leaned on the elbows: you need to grasp something so as not to slip. Everything around it was slippery, you could only get stuck behind the crossed wooden balcony half a meter from me, I tried to get to it with restlessness, whispering from tension:



Well! Go here the shit! Let me reach you! ... →



Suddenly I was blinded by a flash of light, then some wrong breath, no stone, and a deaf knock... I was frightened and fell back. Half an hour later, I’m over the eye again. Yes is. We stretch? There is! I grabbed the curtain and climbed onto the concrete floor, barely breathing from happiness. After resting, I decided to go to the river to wash. At five meters from the toilet, the director was lying, a broken lamp was rolling next to him... he died, what? I went to the river, washed as I could, and then called people: maybe, and not dead yet, you can save.



In the morning we were told that the director had a stroke, he returned to the camp only at the end of the shift. He could not speak, he was sitting on the veranda all day and he liked when the children went to him. I visited him often, he loved me especially... because it was then that I invited people to him.



The following year, we learned that the director had recovered for a short time before his death. He said that night he was walking around the territory, accidentally heard a strange whisper in the toilet and opened the door. On him from the ill-smelled hole came a hellish lumpy-eyed worm, pulled a thumb to him and cried:



“Wow... go here...wow... I’ve gotten to you! ... →



It is offensive, of course.

When I was 12, I was very similar to a boy. With a short funny haircut and no visible bulges in certain places.



My mother took me on vacation to a tourist base in Kabardino-Balkaria. I was so happy as if I was traveling abroad. And the conditions, it must be said, there were wanderings, a common toilet, in the form of a standing house behind the houses. So there were holes in the floor and there were absolutely no doors in the cabins. And once again, when I ran in need to this institution, there, rushing, a grandmother was standing. When she saw me, she stumbled and cried in her throat:



Oh you stumbled! He came to look at me! ? to



Naturally, I had to explain that I am also a woman and I have a full right to be here. And I had one thing in my head at that moment: did she really think that watching her would be the highest aesthetic pleasure? ... →

Citizens, having traveled through Europe, begin to read about how beautiful it is, not realizing that behind this beauty is a bunch of investments paid out of the pocket of the locals. That in the center everything is not loaded with cars, because parking is paid and inexpensive, that cleaning costs money, that the maintenance of all these palaces is worth money, that if you live in a historic building, you cannot sneeze there without obtaining written permission. Fuck the dog, again, you have to clean it personally, otherwise a fine, etc.

Jean-Claude Juncker came drunk to the UN summit‍

Cornet, you are drunk!

YYY: I am not root. I am Juncker.

The adventure began on the train.
They go on the wagon exchanges, the course "ruble - hryvnia" tempting in them, well, they changed.
And he swallowed our friends the doll, packs of banknotes of 10 hryvnia - and walk.
While they recounted the money and got into the situation, two minutes were lost.

We watched - and rushed after him, and we and Loha lie on the upper shelves
We quietly stared. For us, people, without words everything is understood.
The sky closed somewhere with the accomplices of the guides or jumped out of the train.
Well let our girls run away, it's better than screaming.
Three more minutes. The guy! The train brakes sharply. I barely got off the shelf:
Someone seems to have broken the stop-kran!
I even guess who.

They caught him at the end of the train and stunned. Who do you want to be at Father!
Menjala" from the fright the stop-kran broke, threw them money and jumped out of the train.
Ha ha ha. They got theirs back and more. I found it when I counted it.
Then they sit in a bunch of rjuts, Oxanna says - Tan, and we didn't catch it!
The hat was different. At least stunned. Well, there’s a mafia, I think.

c) Without signature

I struggled with the code for two days, but nothing happened. I drank with a friend, came home, changed some line... and it all worked! What a fuck!

>HaoZip

For some reason, everything about 7zip was forgotten as if it did not exist.

Our, and so, and so, and in front and behind, and the Swedes, uki, the second half under the ice do not fail!!! 0 to 0 :-(

One child was given a place in my eyes, and my mother sat down, put her bag on her knees, took an iPhone in her right hand, and she put the child next to him and tightly fixed it with her left hand. Everyone was in the shower, especially, I think, the guy who gave up the place.

I am looking for a girl who 4 numbers in front of the closet asked us on the internet.
Commentary: Did you not return?

Outsider: In one black-black house in the northeast of Neresinovsk hangs a list of debtors to a concierge, or something like that. A list of names and initials. And here is the man with FIO Pop N.G.

If it’s not a New Year’s Eve, I don’t know.

Are there any readers here?? to

It is sad that a forty-year-old aunt compares herself to a six-year-old child, does not see a difference in mental, psychological and physical development, prefers herself.

She compares herself as a six-year-old to her current six-year-olds, as well as herself as a forty-year-old to possible forty-year-olds in the future.
And you obviously have no difference in mental, psychological and physical development with those six-year-olds.

Scenario "We are from the future-3".
A guy with the flag of the Russian Federation and a Georgian tape on his chest falls in 1943, where he is shot on the spot for symbolism.

His among the strangers is a brave spy, and the stranger among his own is a vicious spy!

Here on the website they say, what is not funny - on other sites!!! to
Guys, watch from dawn to dawn the Camedi Club! It’s always there... Well, right about... you’re riding!
And on this site sometimes it is ridiculous to write, and read, compare, what makes you think or make conclusions.
Okay well.
of patriotism.
In 1995, I, with the spiritual and financial assistance of relatives, bought my first two-bedroom apartment in Khrushchev, on the 5th floor. Heaven is just paradise! Even now the stomach hurts from that joy and feeling of prospects. Holosty!, with a car (six), a young captain of the militia... Oh you! To the apartment in the form of a bonus attached iron garage in a row with the same 20, straight 50 meters from my entrance.
Here you went out on the balcony, out your car in the yard, out your garage, lafa!
Next to my garage was the same, and they owned a man, 70s look. Not a grandfather, but an optimistic man. The height is slightly lower than me (175), always in a gray suit, shaved, the hand is strongly dry, sometimes talking about this.
So he had a garage of the type of an apartment, he spent the light there, the refrigerator, the telephone is simple, the couch, the chairs and everything clean, clean... He will drive out his six, wash for order and sit on the couch, with the neighbors in the garage or on the entrance talks, always a drink with him ready for guests, a vodka I sometimes wheeled him from the generosity of ments, so, from the heart to the heart.
Besides that he — Uncle Cole knew nothing about him, a neighbor and a neighbor. A normal active man, helps if anything, always advises on the subject, always expects from me stories about events in the city.
One day, I had a holiday. Summer, birds in the garden. I go out to the balcony to look at the surroundings and see: a few ropes of 15 years to my neighbor to the garage approach and what he is stuck. Well, different things happen, the type can ask the way, and Uncle Cole suddenly stands up from the couch so vigorously and very slightly to one man on his mouth. He fell down, and this speck fell down. And these demons drag him for the jacket and into the garage.
I drink beer, I remember. I collapse and climb the stairs in my pantyhose, with a remote tube in my hands (I didn’t have hundreds at the time), go to my yard!! to
I flew, in the garage messy, Uncle Kolya Nihera did not give up, already without a jacket, in a broken light shirt, which is all in blood, in dirt, sluggish, but squeezes with his hands, and these pudors crack him, and from the soul with his legs!! to
I do not hide, from courage, resentment, youth and skillfulness (served in the VDV) heracled and ripped these undergrown from the soul. Harry Lee is a puppy! Even when he hit these fools in the corners, oral and muttered with what would be turned under his hand...blowing, crying,...blood, shit and sludge... handcuffs closed “do not need!! Do not need!“!”
“Don’t have to? The fucking!”
And then the Chapaevs (along with the OVD) flew, because it was boring, their captain "died", they drove for a long time and set up accordingly... They flew, looked. And let's fuck the bushes of webcams, well, even under the noise of Uncle Cole didn't get involved...I've already told them that it's all! All of it!! All of it!! Here other patrols flew, but there it was easier, all the necessary lie in the urine, unnecessary uncle Cole washed off, touched... The ambulance was called, he was severely cut off at old age...
Well, there the nausea began, they were 13-14 years old, the parents of the same webki alkashi fought, the children said they dismissed the shameful mints, I then with Uncle Cole and the prosecutor's offices and hospitals patroled, but it turns out that Uncle Cole repelled me and others from the dress. I am Captain! Menta is shameful!
And all that wanted these little pigeons to push the grandfather’s car off. Why? → They lived in the same area.
Oh well okay.
Once again, I will put my car in the garage and go to Uncle Cole, so what are you there? The neighbor...
And he sits on the couch sad, sinking and disassembling some files with newspaper cuts. On the table there is a bottle of drinks, our astrakhan bowl, black bread. “Sit down,” he said. Look, see how I was. I took the yellowest note in the newspaper, and there were two guys in the photo. They hugged me, sergeants. And I read, a group of 26 desant spy detectives was supposed to occupy and hold the bridge until...
During the seizure of the bridge, three scouts were killed, while the bridge was retained, all the others - only two sergeants survived and... among them Uncle Kolya!!! The same thin, hairy, without medals, embraces another sergeant on the photo. In this intelligence group Hero of the Soviet Union received then 4 people! Heavily interfered men.
It is someone else’s!
I read other excerpts, and he turns out to be not Uncle Kol, but Nikolai Vasilyevich, the Order of the Red Banner, 2 orders of Glory, 2 Red Star, for Courage, for the liberation of almost all Europe!!! to
As a soldier, I sat there. They went through prosecutors, investigators, and he never said that a man deserved, believed probably in the force of the law and decency of all for whom he fought.
And this time they sat down and drank 50 drinks, and he did not talk about the war, but about what his fellow servants dreamed of at the war. It is sad, with pauses. Of course it looked naïve, but I didn’t interrupt, I saw that he was there, there, remembering himself. Strong, young, confident, ready to seize the bridge, and not a grey tired old man, who can just so be cut off by Russian boys, for just so.
He took home, handed over to his grandmother, left in tears.
Webkows were punished by themselves, with the help of the district and the drug control department. All of them several times, under the noise and their parents bowed them.
The point is not that these children were muddled on our instructions many times and for today almost all of them in the graves under various circumstances, but that Uncle Cole died six months later, in the winter, people were just up to heaven, the governor, his sword, the orchestra, the laffeet, the accompaniment, speech, salp, and I dreamed of looking at him in the grave, gray and hairy, so that these young guys who beat him, our Russian guys, died a terrible death.
Yes, I read about patriotism.
And yesterday my son, 16 years old, brought 2 transparents for the “Immortal Regiment” with my grandparents, and his grandparents. I did not know where he found photos of grandparents, like asking once, wondered earlier when he with a serious look learned what medals they had on the photo, asked about what I remember about them. I, the fool, remembered myself when I told my son about grandparents, I regretted that I did not listen to everything, I do not remember everything, and yesterday the bull exploded - and who will tell my son about the heroes besides me? As Yuri Nikulin said, "They remember the hands!"So I suddenly remembered my grandparents' stories about Finnish, about fear, about pain, and about the ass after the war...
Happy Victory Day!

In the debate, Marine Le Pen nodded Macron with a magnificent phrase reflecting the reality of modern Europe: "In any case, France will be ruled by a woman - either I or Madame Merkel."

A topic on the forum dedicated to nostalgia for the USSR. They discuss cinema.

XXX: That is all. Here are the "New Amazons", it was yes! "Sex mission" has not made that impression.
Are these different films? and ;)
xxx: "Sex mission" I watched much later, the women there for some reason were no longer so astonishing, and not even so young, and the breasts no longer caused that enthusiasm.
So yes, it seemed to be different movies :(

The pre-schooler is not a passenger in the transport, but a luggage. So no one is inferior to the children, they are inferior to the passenger with children. Accordingly, it is necessary to give in to the passenger with the child, who has a very small and non-going child, binding his hands - banally because this parent can neither hold nor place the cargo. And yes, to sit on the free place must the parent himself, and keep the small child in his arms. Accordingly, rejuvenated salmon children are no longer considered in this regard and it would be time to teach them to give way to the elderly.

The gray-haired professor with a clever smile asks the audience: Who will you give up your seat in the tram first? We have agreed that priority will be given to people with limited physical capabilities. No, said the professor. The child. We were surprised then too. Naturally, he expected this and of course brought arguments in favor of this priority. To be honest, I was ashamed.

Are the arguments, I suppose, forgotten?
I, in fact, believe that since my ass is one - when someone appears near me, who is difficult to stand, I should give him a place and not think - to the grandmother or the child I give him.
To give up a seat in a sufficiently crowded transport to children should not even because they are difficult to stand, but because standing they are forced to be in an unpleasant situation, described by one little girl in the bus as "Jops, around one ass!!and "