Hi brother.

What happened?

- I want to bring my girlfriend to dinner tomorrow, but I am on the melt : (

No problem, there are friends for that, right? I will bring her to dinner tomorrow.

I lived in a dormitory and met a girl. Here her neighbor came to her boyfriend and her first-time student was settled with her.

We immediately took her into our company and invited her to a common drink. And here, it happened, my girlfriend was going to leave for a while. He approaches me and says:

- Listen, this is a topic, my neighbor flashed on your friend and asks me to hint to him that he likes her. I am ashamed, you can tell him something.

In general, I drink, call my friend and push the next speech.

Do you know Lena?

Well I know.

So she wants you, it all flows...

I do not like her. She’s kind of like herself... In general, a terrible shopper...

It’s scary, but I don’t suggest marrying her. Just touch it and that’s all. Her neighbor has left, the room is free. Everything is in your hands. You understand, here everything is already understood, she herself asked to introduce you, not even to think about it will not give...

Fuck, it’s somewhat fast. On the other hand, the girl is interesting.

He did not touch her then. He called for a walk.

They have two children and an exemplary family.

Every time we meet, she thankes me for helping them get to know closer, and he turns red and turns his eyes away.

A few years ago I was at a school friend’s wedding. A beautiful couple. A beautiful wedding. There were over 60 guests. At one point the host invites me to the center of the hall. He gives the microphone and asks questions:



You know my fiancé for a long time, right?



From the school desk, I answered.



- Do you know the bride for a long time? - Another question from the leader.



and yes. How they met. I think I was one of the first to learn that he had such a wonderful girl, I say.



It is wonderful! You are the one we need! Can you remember what your first friend said about his girlfriend at the time? How did he describe her? – another question from the leader.



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And here I am immersed in memories. The year 2005. and autumn. meet with a friend. I have not seen him for months. Rain and wind on the street – Peter is still. I remembered our conversation with him. I am a friend. d.



I: Let’s go to the bar. The weather is ugly.



D: Wait and wait. Wouldn’t you mind if we had a telecome?



I: Cho for the body?



D: Yes, it’s just the type I’m dating her. She is not very sympathetic, and the breasts are small, but as a herer swallows! I will go for a couple of months and look for a normal one.



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I usually don't stop, but on this issue I normally do so at the wedding)) I had to come up with something quickly, about how a friend said that she was a cute and fun girl)

I work as an electrical welder at the enterprise for the manufacture of metallurgical equipment (cavels, gas pipes, etc.).) is

The implementation of the PSC is in full progress. The whole plant is divided and painted by territories (green - safe, and red - say so dangerous.)

Of course, my work takes place in the red zone. I am as set forth.

I am approached by a girl, an employee of the TV, and asks for a permit to make an act of violation of work without protective glasses. I have a chameleon mask.

I looked at her and asked:

Why is she in production in ballets and civil clothes?

What I get the answer:

I can! I am a TV employee, and I will write out an act for the deprivation of % of the CTU and the premium.

I didn't think long, with the words "well, once you lose, then catch," I threw a hammer next to her leg.

I was not deprived of the prizes, the head of the department stood up, but all TV employees began to observe the TV.

I have relatives on my father’s line. They live in a private house. They, like everyone else in our countryside, first built a "time" and walked there and gradually completed a large house. But all the salt is that they still live in time. Although, there is a cool and damp winter, which is not surprising considering that initially it is not intended for long-term residence, and for a moment the years as 5-7 exactly passed. And the big house stands like a museum, all the furniture and carpets are new, you can see that uninhabited. Only guests are accepted. And you say crystal from a servo.

I worked, I mean, in one of the just beginning call centers of our small town. And there they decided to do a little Moskovsky: hollow tea, soluble coffee, sugar, biscuits. Small but pleasant.

But one day with evil eyes in our open space flies the leader, who himself is a moscovite, but by will of fate raised the province from its knees, and simply very loudly and cunningly asks everyone to pause and gather at his table.

The situation is this: our unit, in which 30 people worked a day, drank 12 full cups of coffee in a week, something about a thousand bags of sugar and... 20 kg of sugar! And the hallway is over, from this moment we drink all the command, and then we wear each for ourselves. Everyone went to the injustice of the world, but separated from work.

Comrade who sat in the neighborhood: “No one ever took! I myself constantly look, just the bosses - the tricks are still those, and they came up with a situation so that they don't buy anything more. “Everyone is bad, and we are D’Artagnan.

We broke a couple of phrases, said, offended, and finished.

I come the next day, and here straight from nine in the morning again some fees. It turned out that my neighbor in his backpack carried everything he could, he was caught with a pack of paper for the printer, a couple of cups of coffee, and even a pound of sugar. As a result, dismissal one day, indeed, not by article, but, I hope, the lesson will be learned.

And I remembered for a long time that no one ever took, but how do you know for everyone?

Good is wasted
Bad – is accumulated

Ave Mary

- Meeting, it is Sasha - he has a network of hotels in Turkey. It’s Gene – is dealing with the sale of electronics. This is Valera - a network of children's shops. This is Alice, a musician, a violinist.
Is he also a millionaire? I was joking.
“Well, how to say,” laughed my friend, “ ask him himself...
So we met. Alic, charming, cheerful, low in height, a little like Mr. Bean, instantly made friends with me, and after a couple of drinks told his story, as they usually tell people who are likely never to see again.

“My dad was the director of a music school in our town, and therefore, you know, I didn’t have a special choice: either piano or violin. My first violin was childhood. I grew up and the question arose about buying a full, adult violin. Then came the case. Immediately after the New Year, a musician came to the school and asked to pass him to the director. It turned out that he drank all the money he earned in the morning and, in order to trust home, decided to sell his violin. Even though he was a musician, he did not understand violin. He called the scraping teacher to assess the quality. The teacher was delighted and said, “Buy it! If you want to sell it, I will buy it for any money. Do you know what’s important about the violin? It sounds or not! And this sounds.
In general, a new violin cost him a hundred rubles. Well, you remember the salaries and prices at the time... At the official rate to the dollar – 60 green! How it came to Russia, I don’t know. I think after the war someone brought it from Germany as a trophy.

And I went with her through life: I went to the orchestra, began concerts, foreign trips. The violin documents had to be made in order to be allowed abroad. Habituated to her. You know, I used to say food. That was her for me. You know how I made money, right? He travelled abroad, carried canned foods, pasta, so as not to spend a penny and for a trip to bring something from there and sell. The counters in the hotels turned like angry, the traffic jams flew out when the symphony orchestra was cooking pasta.

Germany opened up. The question of going or not, did not stand. to go. What to do with the violin? There was an option for a thousand bucks. It was crazyly expensive for me! People left and sold apartments for just a few thousand. Then the prices have risen.
Long thought, decided to transmit with guides. The guys gave me theirs, checked. He paid 200 bucks and in mid-December handed them a box with a violin.
The next day he boarded a plane and flew to Berlin. A few hours before the train arrived at the station, I didn’t go by myself. I'm worried, I don't think God let anything happen to her!
The train is approaching, my heart is beating, and the look will jump out of my chest! Like on a first date with a girl. I can’t wait for the moment to press her and hug her. Even the kiss was ready.
The conductor comes out, looks down, I immediately realized - problems! I run hardly alive: - Where, I say, is the violin? And he turns his eyes away: - The Germans confiscated at the border with Germany.

In general, word for word, it turned out that these fools decided to celebrate a profitable business, bought vodka, snacks, drove, crossed the border with Poland - drove again, and then, so that no one would bother, just locked themselves in the coupe, drank the remains and fell asleep. The German border was reached, customs officers entered the wagon - there are no conductors. They knock on the box, they don’t open. They broke the door, and they don’t tie the bars there. They were accepted according to the full program. And in the box box, in it the violin is old, old, you can say. They confiscated, gave a paper, said that the disassembly should come to the owner personally, not to Berlin, but to Frankfurt on the Main. Well, you know, then I realized that my entire future is slowly covered with a copper basin. After all, without their good instrument, no decent orchestra will take me, and the money saved in foreign trips on pasta will not be enough even to buy a slide. I know nothing more. Business is zero. Both hands are left, I can’t even hit the nail! German, indeed, was taught in school, and what a matter, in Germany everyone speaks German.

In general, I moved in a couple of days in Frankfurt on the Main. I come to the customs office with a receipt and a violin passport, looking for the Chief Customs Officer. I found. It turned out a woman. I explain the situation, and they also taught Russian in schools, answering: - Do you want to sell a violin in Germany? I say, “No, I’m a violinist, it’s my instrument, I’ll play it. And she again: - You carry a violin without papers, so you want to sell!
This conversation with various variations and trips through the offices lasted almost until the closure of the customs. And then a brilliant idea came to her head: "If," she says, "you are a musician, play! And he looks at me with such triumphant eyes as Mueller looked at the Strider, the kind of catch.

I look at the envelope and think this is my last chance to touch my favorite violin, set up, play it may be the last time. I was so excited when I touched her. As if you had to meet a loved one after a talk, and how you will behave depends on whether he will stay with you forever or your paths will never cross. I closed my eyes so that the tears didn’t flow and I thought what to play with them? Play so that it will surely work out. And then suddenly I remembered that Catholic Christmas was on the nose. I think I’ll play them Ave Maria, Schubert. And when I play, I close my eyes, I see nothing, I stretch in a string, I get up on my feet, in general, I completely give myself to music. Ave Maria is a long work. I play, I forgot everything. I finished, I opened my eyes, a couple of shares of a second of silence, and then such ovations began! I have never been applauded for solo performance, I have always played in the orchestra! All the customs gathered. In the eyes of tears. They whisper their noses and knock their hands! The Main Customswoman washes her eyes with a towel. “Play,” he said, “we can do something else if we can. We will not be able to work anyway, and the customs will close in half an hour.
I arranged a concert for them. There were not so many Christmas songs in my repertoire, so I moved to the classics, then to the Jewish, burning. And they do not separate, the doors are locked so that no one from the outside enters and ask for more and more. And I play and I’m afraid to stop.
Two hours later, the Customswoman said, “Thank you very much! I have never seen Christmas in my life. I apologize for spending so much time, our service is like this.

“And then you joined the orchestra and earned your first million by performing on tours,” I put in my five copies.
Yes, you do, but you won’t earn so much! I forgot to say that their expert found that the violin was made by French masters and valued it at half a million German marks.

Wagoned

Patriarch Kirill expressed in his Christmas message jealousy and a desire for comfort.
Then he sat down in the armored mercy, flew to the airport, where a business jet was waiting for him, ready to fly to Sardinia, where our modest patriarch had already been waiting for his yacht.