I sit in the plane and wait for departure. A very beautiful girl sits next to her, speaks on the phone with her boyfriend, repeating every word: “love.” She was very excited and nervous (apparently afraid to fly on planes) the guy, on the other end of the wire, calmed her in every way. Talking about a trip to Prague, she told him that she had already found 2-3 good hotels and that he would drop references to them, let him choose. And about the fact that on arrival he will immediately call him on a call, as soon as Dasha meets her and they will find Wifi. They said goodbye on the phone, how much they will miss each other and how much they love each other.

Everyone was asked to turn off the gadgets and prepare for the take-off.

I fell asleep and woke up when they arrived. When I went through the passport check, I noticed her again. It was impossible not to notice: a beautiful face, long black hair, a coat with bright colors and a beautiful cut on the back, a sports figure. After the passport check, they picked up their suitcases and went to the exit, it was right in front of me. And here, at the exit, she meets Dasha. “Dasha” is a Turkish male name. Man, 40 years old. Such warm hugs and passionate kisses I have not met for a long time... They took a hug at sunset, and I, slightly squeezing from this picture, headed to the airport parking lot and it became ugly on my soul.

After reading a couple of stories from respected vegetarians, I wanted to help them understand why people don’t understand them and treat them unfairly.

I have a friend — a beautiful smart girl, fun and kind.

So she decided to become a respected vegetarian.

And it became.

I became a vegetarian, but not a vegetarian.



Before I was a man, but I became a meat-eater (strange - because she wasn't a herbivore, a fruit-eater, a plant-eater).

I used to have breakfast, lunch and dinner, and now I kill, break, torture.

I used to love animals, but now I hate them.

Previously, we could talk about how spacecraft roam the vastness of the universe, and now everything is reduced to the fact that children have to show pictures of the slaughterhouse from childhood, so that they do not grow up to be brutal murderers.

Previously, taking food, I gained strength, and now digest the body.



In the rest, we communicate as before, only the sediment remains.

The most important thing I almost forgot — I have not even in mind to be interested in how she eats, and discuss it.

Today it’s hard to believe, but in my childhood there were almost no cars on the streets.

In the winter, when we were playing hockey, the gates were installed from a pair of bricks right on the road. And, it happened, we had time to play a few periods before a lonely truck forced us to leave. He passed, we returned to the road and continued the interrupted match.

Some passers tried to convince us that the road was not a place to play, but the smart advice of adults flew past our ears. We had our own reasons: if we do not disturb anyone and nobody disturbs us, then why not? The road is smooth and the ice is good. At that time, the roads were not covered. I will not say for all the roads of the country, my knowledge concerns only one road that ran next to my home.

Then, somewhat unnoticed, civilization entered our small town, the number of cars increased. In the winter, the hockey players did not go out on the road, but cleaned the site in the center of the yard and poured water.

Then the cars became even more, they had little space on the road, they began to drive directly through our courtyard. There were always many children in the yard, so their parents were not without reason concerned about their life and health.

One day, losing patience, the men dug a thick railway in the middle of the road running along the entrances. Entrance and exit remained, but the road ceased to be crossed. Having done the business, the men with a proud look walked around the courtyard, demonstrating who is the master here. Then came a police officer with a police officer. The rail is spinning. For a while, the police sought to find out who had digged him. The men crafted.

When the roadmen and the police officer left, they appeared again in the courtyard, screaming loudly about the self-government of the authorities, promising to dig the rail again, but did not dig in. Probably the rails are over. After some time, the iron back of the bed appeared above the remnants of the spinning rail, the legs of which were firmly cemented.

The passengers came and cleaned their backs. The culprits were searched carefully, found and fined. After that, people began to act more cleverly. As if by chance, there was a concrete block or a massive urn, a pebble, a bunch of sand or an excavated pit in this place of the road.

Then came new times. My family and I moved elsewhere, the revolutionaries bought cars and stopped building barriers on the road. The war ended with the victory of motorists.

I recently walked past, saw in this place a fine metal barrier installed by the road service. It was apparent that he was placed above the splinter. It turns out that the war is not just continuing, the opposing parties have changed targets. Now road drivers are guarding the road, and locals are fighting for free passage.

I went to Peter with my friends.

Walked around the city, walked along the way to the bar, a casual, little cute half-sweet.

There were four of us and one of our three friends was already there.

At one point, I feel like the bartender is communicating with some people and they periodically look at us.

We wait for the disconnection, the tension grows slowly and here they approach and say about the following, the exact text I do not remember: "We have an unusual request to you, please listen to the end. We are shooting small porn videos on orders in the internet and now we need to have sex in the bar, but without visitors it will look unnatural and we will not be paid. We’ll give you beer for inconvenience.”

We agree, we are transplanted, asked not to pay attention and just drink beer and communicate.

Next, the guy wears a Mickey Mouse costume, the girl has a huge spider tail and they fuck on the table.

They paid 150 views for this video.

The order sounded approximately like, “Micky Mouse is fucking the pavilion in front of the whole bar.”

They ordered such shit relatively often.

A cautious man is one who first finds the way out and then the entrance.

It seems to me that Roskomnadzor is in a share with Durov?
When it all started, I knew about Telegram. But I decided to register... Well, so in the peak, you know who. It turned out that of my 127 telephone subscribers, 5 (five) were registered in Telegram.
A week later I received messages from 73 subscribers who signed up for Telegram.

Make a conclusion, gentlemen.

All my money is in the Swiss bank... but unfortunately not on my account, but on the account of our governor.

I went somehow to the Japanese knife store and straight to the vitrine with crafts, wanted such a very, consulted with the sold and asked to give a turn in the hands. Sold, stretching my knife in the knives, said that touching the cutting edge with fingers is not necessary. I immediately touched. “How you beat me!” - said sold, stretching a sterile towel and wiping out the blood from a beautiful glass shelf.

Mom was in a bad mood, and she drank her dad all night on the occasion and without. When she cooked the salad eggs and put them in cold water, Dad replaced them with raw eggs and locked themselves in his room to the castle. Dad says the screams were heard from a few floors down. Both are retired and have not stopped having fun.