Xxx: The daughter (7 years old) says, "Let's let me clean up for the money, flooring, etc."

We with my wife "Let's make no problems, my mom massage you will do 25 rubles, beds fill 25 rubles, dishes remove 25 rubles and so on." They agreed, hit in the hands.

The daughter begins to clean the beds and immediately comes to her the thought, "Listen, and the massage of the mother's back is much easier than the beds to bed. Let me for 50 rubles I will cover the beds and clean the dishes for 100 rubles.

We are in one voice with my wife "Eeee, does not eat. Daddy for 25 rubles will clean the dishes himself, and massage mom to do and you will remain without work."

“Yes no. It’s okay, I’ll do it myself now.” This is how the child quickly learned lessons about disproportionate pay, competition and stupid bosses.

Yyy: Now start taking her money for food...this will be a surprise for her...

For a fabulous prospective bubble which only fairy tales do not compose!

Two years ago, I went on a business trip to America. At some point, a black man was trying to slip ahead of me. I asked him to get up at the end of the line. He instantly picked up the air in his chest and said very loudly and hysterically, "It's all because I'm black?!"

I am a non-conflict person and quite scary to aggressive people who are bigger than me. But at that moment, without expecting myself, I calmly gave up:

“No is. That’s because I’m Russian” and with the wildest Russian accent added, “do you have any problems?”

There was silence in the cafe. The black man was slightly discolored and left. I never understood - because of the fear of stereotypes about dangerous Russians or he did not know what to answer because of a system error.

P.s The manager was very polite with me :)

P.s S Then I tried all day to figure out where I got that last phrase from. And I remembered, it was in the speech of a comedian, he told how he was saved by the Russian accent in a critical situation. It really saves, and I didn’t think that all this Russian beetle could ever be useful in life. Thank you to the American cinema for the images of the Russians shot on their heads.

The Russians never trusted the government.
All new initiatives were always perceived as another attempt to capture the people.
And, what is characteristic, I never made a mistake!

and Odessa. New boutique in the Eurostile style. Behind the shelf is a large odyssey with a cigarette on the mouthpiece. All shelves are packed with leather bags, bags and bags. In the center is carried forward in a glass bowl with the illumination of a miracle riddle. All so careful, brown, brown.

“Oh,” the girl jumps up and begins to scream, “look what a bag! And from what is she? ! to (This is for the seller)

The seller looks complacent and unwavering. Hands on the chest, cigarette smoke.

The Pony...

From whom?

From the Pony!

and oh! This cute little horse? ! to Oh, what a ja-a-alcohol!

The saleswoman, blowing a cigarette, surrounds the whole hall with her hand.

Are you not sorry for the cows?

I worked in a very large office. And I had a girl there in the bosses – a very clever lady, and what there – a rare genius of the mind personality. And she was absolutely "graphic", everything in her life was built on forecasting, on elaborate time management tables, on charts and other charts. I was not in a close relationship with her, but as a trusting person, because the "Iron Lady" was sometimes bad at heart, and I had her a rope.

And here, somehow, when I looked through with her all her charts, aspirations and other labours (very important and well-worked), I stumbled over one sheet, asked, what is that?

And the “Iron Lady” answered, and killed me with her response. It turns out – it was the schedule of her “private life.” She has already pleaded that within a year she will be sent to the central, capital branch, where she had already had a "pre-planned" relationship with one of the locksmiths, taking into account both her own and common investments, it was divided into "two ways" - the acquisition of personal housing, the accumulation of holidays, and the timing of the child's birth. That is, when she was not married, she had already pretended in advance - how much she would get pregnant, how much she would give birth, by the time of the accumulated leave she should have enough for something there, just as pretended about what and how she would be doing at a distance, because she was not going to quit work during the period of "bearing and feeding".

I say:

- Listen, and what if... and what if you can't give birth, - if honestly, I was afraid to ask this question, because... Well, somehow it's not complicit to ask such questions, but at the same time I knew that she has a lot of problems on the female part...

"Look, if it doesn't come out before thirty-five, this is an adoption, it is desirable, of course, to be two years old, a boy.

A strange child is not stressful.

He is still a child.

and clearly.

So, years have passed, I have not worked in that office for a long time, almost eleven years have passed since then. What is the “Iron Lady”? And nothing - raises an adoptive son with the same "blind" in the apartment bought there, in the capital, and everything happened exactly as she planned.

GDP should have doubled, and it has fallen.

Good time of day! (24 June 2020)
The story is neither funny nor tearful. But I thought I needed to tell her.
This is the story of a grateful man.
Yesterday, my neighbors and I played football: children from nine years old (my son and neighboring boys) and their parents up to 40 years old. So it turned out that my son was on the path of the ball, which quickly flew toward the gate. He protected his gates, of course, but he did not get weak in the liver. I was very scared for my son. He was lying down, crying and couldn’t breathe properly. It was 20:40, at this time, paid hospitals no longer work, and we had to go to the district free hospital.
The District Hospital! The largest and the only one in a few nearby small towns!
She was in a deplorable state... Even in a very deplorable state... And that despite the fact that she was just a few dozen kilometers from the ICAD. About those hospitals that are further (1000-2000km from Moscow) I know nothing, I have not been.
Destroyed road to the main entrance, minimal lighting, old dull corridor, tight unequipped reception room, etc. I will not list further, I think to many so clearly.
From 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. there was a disinfection of the COVID premises at the hospital, so we were asked to go out and wait there. From such a request, some “modern people” from weak helpless patients immediately turned into fierce fighters against the rules of the hospital. Especially women older than average age.
No, you must accept me now, right now. Otherwise, tomorrow I will complain to the chief doctor, after tomorrow to the Ministry of Health, and then to someone else. I will get you all fired, you all owe me! I do not want and will not wait. And then continue at this pace for 20 to 30 minutes.
I saw that the nurse was tired of explaining to them that disinfection was essential for the safety of patients and staff.
Now the most important thing: the state of the health workers and why I am infinitely grateful to them.
While we were sitting in line, at least 5 ambulances arrived at the hospital, plus people were walking their way. All the doctors and health workers were women. They themselves were engaged in “loading and unloading” work, while being extremely polite and careful. I have never heard of them being rude to patients. Worked clearly, smoothly and quickly. I was overwhelmed by the sadness of how fragile cute girls loaded a drunken man out of the module onto the catwalk (I helped them, so don’t blame) and rushed away for the next challenge, as well as from their tired eyes, not very up-to-date equipment and worn-out clothes. By the way, who can tell who should wash and update the shape of health workers? Do doctors or hospitals have specially equipped laundry rooms?
The medical staff of the hospital was dressed in single-use protective coats, masks, hats, and surgical gloves. But it was noticeable that these medical single-use clothes have long since become reusable. Or just come into an inappropriate condition for a replacement. I can only guess because I don’t know exactly.
In a small, damp, unconditioned reception room worked a doctor and several nurses. The windows with the torn mosquito grids were opened up, so that there was enough air for everyone. Inside the room and in the corridor were flying mosquitoes and drinking blood of choice.
I am very grateful to our doctors, nurses and other health workers that even in such conditions they do their job greatly. No one is told that they are hot, cold, or a lot of mosquitoes, no shower, no well-equipped toilet, no TV, no free dinner, no transportation (the hospital is far enough from the city center); they do not complain that patients are screaming at them as if they should do repairs in the hallways so that it is comfortable to wait for their turn or the results of the tests.
Sometimes it happens that one taxi driver for 15 minutes of travel with their complaints about the price of gasoline and bad roads so washes your brains that the next time you will think well before you take a taxi. And these brave people say nothing to anyone, silently do their job!
Here’s how the doctor told my son:
Hi my friend! What happened to you? Playing a football? Scored a goal? The door protected. What a good man! Strongly hit? Was it hurt? and crying? You will grow up a little and become a good footballer. I will go and watch your game. It hurts here, and here? No is? well well. Let’s donate blood and I’ll let you go home soon.
- Olya, take the boy's tests and bring the results faster. He needs to sleep, he’s tired of waiting here for a long time.
“Well, you are okay, nothing wrong. Just a murder. Rest a few days and you can continue to play.
- Dad, if suddenly he gets sick, headache or vomiting, for example, then come to me immediately. I will take you without a turn. Go on, don’t get sick.
I thought she would talk to us sharply and roughly, make us wait until morning or come the next day. And she was so calm and pleasant to communicate with us that I wanted to hug her. If I had more money, I would buy them something.
Thank you dear doctor! For your courage, for your work. for your sleepless nights. Thank you for everything!
We hope that you will have the same good conditions as in our paid clinics.
Celebration of Victory!

A TV journalist takes an interview with a woman on the street.
Do you agree to amendments to the Constitution?
of course. We will have more qualified teachers and doctors in the country. The literacy of the population will increase, the number of talented scientists will increase.
A slightly faint journalist asks:
Sorry, in which country?
In the ours.
Which city are you from?
From Tel Aviv.

How by myself? How to work? As a family?

and normal.

Well, well that is normal. Borrowing 5,000 dollars?

Kiss me on my shoulder.

Why on the shoulder?

You have also begun from far away.

My grandfather had three pigs. They were called Chruscha, Phila and Stepa. They said they were my pigs and they should be watched. I regularly went to feed them and clean the pork. It was fun and very exciting. In playing I imagined myself as a fairy tale hero who would help the pigs and defeat the evil wolf. I was terribly jealous of my friends when I talked about these amazing and already grown-up beauties.



One morning I noticed a large number of men and women at the pig farm. They laughed and drank. I heard the wild whisper of my pigs and ran toward them. After running, I saw how the neighbor’s grandfather, by a clever movement, killed Phile, who was lying on his side. I was caught and held, laughing at my hysteria.

Further, I remember the smell of a petroleum lamp, smelling the death of the intestines in the pelvis, a bunch of people who chose a piece better.



The words of my grandmother:

What are you cheering? But you still have a cock, call it Petya!

Two years ago, I went on a business trip to America. At some point, a black man was trying to slip ahead of me. I asked him to get up at the end of the line. He instantly picked up the air in his chest and said very loudly and hysterically, “Is that all because I’m black? “!”

I am a non-conflict person and quite scary to aggressive people who are bigger than me. But at that moment, without expecting myself, I calmly gave up:

“No is. That’s because I’m Russian” and with the wildest Russian accent added, “do you have any problems?”

There was silence in the cafe. The black man was slightly discolored and left. I never understood because of the fear of stereotypes about dangerous Russians or he did not know what to answer because of a system error.



P.S. Cassir was noticeably respectful to me.



P.S. Then I tried all day to figure out where I got this last phrase from. And I remembered, it was in the performances of the standaper, he told how he was saved by the Russian accent in a critical situation) It really saves and I did not think that this whole Russian beetle could ever be useful in life. Thanks to the American cinema for the images of the Russians shot on their heads.

We go here with our wife somewhere on the street and we hear someone calling us.

The neighbors! Neighbors and greetings! - runs to us the grandmother of God, a neighbor from a rental apartment, from which we left a year ago.

Do you want to move back? She asks with hope in her eyes.

Yes, we live in our own now, what, bad neighbors?

Not that word! They got already! constantly, some

They have walks, and you are so good, I didn’t even hear you, well, except when you did it!

Here, my wife and I red, and the neighbor stands and remembers the word,

She shows her hands with some undue gestures. We are like Azerbaijani tomatoes.

On the guitar! She finally remembers and continues to gesture with her hands.

One of my acquaintances has relatives living in the U.S. and recently he went to them and told me a story about how he was invaded by African Americans. Further from his words.

One day we decided to go to the store and buy my son an ice cream. We went to the nearest store, we chose, we approached the box office, the line was small, only three people. While we stood waiting for our turn, two men came with beer and asked them to miss, saying they were in a hurry. I said we’re quick, buy ice cream and go. They started riding until it came to me that I was a racist and I didn’t want to miss them because they were black. Then came the insults and insults. We bought ice cream and quickly got out of there. And that’s how some black people are struggling for anything. Do you have anything against my opinion? ! to You are racist. And now everywhere.

The longer you live, the more you have of the past. Unfortunately at the expense of the future.

In the two hundred and thirty-fourth laboratory of the research and development bureau, developing the fuck knows what to please friends and fear enemies, for some reason there was a terrible shortage of cang pencil. Especially valued were the pencil type pull-push, where the griffle could be inserted on two sides and wrapped with blades of varying thickness. "Shooters" draw much faster - this will tell you any person who knows how to use a culman.

The Soviet pencil industry in the person of the design bureau could cover the deficit, but did not want to.

You have a pencil one for six months and that’s all. Grizzlies and blades take as much as you want, Wattman paper you want to save, thinking in your head, and I will not give pencil, do not ask. I gave it the last time, and you stitched it in your ears, or forgot it in the toilet cabin. No, no and no, and there is nothing to persuade me, I know where you are spending all the laboratory alcohol.

Something was wrong with the pencil. The week. The Month. A maximum of two months and the pencil mysteriously disappeared. Different brands and different hardness. Regardless of size and design. Drawing became uncomfortable, labor productivity fell and wooden scraps on the floor. The inscriptions on the body of the product "stolen from me" and "who denies - will fall asleep" did not help.

- You know what Sasha, - said the designer of the second category and chairman of the council of young specialists in one person to his colleague, if we and you from each salary will buy a pencil pencil each we will not ruin. And in a few months, the surrounding space will be saturated with material objects to such an extent that they will stop disappearing.

- You are right Yuri, - replied to him the newly elected secretary of the Komsomol organization and the designer of the first category, cheering in front of the sympathetic technician-laborator Olga Alexandrovna, - in order not to ruin with the guarantee I propose to do this in turn. Thus the saturation of space will happen a little later, but for eternity it is a perfect nonsense.

So we agreed. During the conversation, I heard nothing, watched from a distance the leader of the group, Viktor Nikolaevich, who also suffered from a shortage of cang pencil.

The salary was issued today, the next day Sasha brought five contractual office products, put four on the table, and one immediately started drawing the assembly drawing of the press form for the product "Granat".

How about the process? I asked Yuri’s friend during the overdose, is the space saturated?

"Even as full," Sasha pulled a cigarette "Cosmos," I had two pencils missing before lunch. He seemed to have gone nowhere. To the first department and the library for the reference book. And most importantly, there is no one in the laboratory except Olga and Viktor Nikolaevich, in the journeys all. I'll go back to the first department now, I'll leave the pencil on the table, and you'll see.

Yuri looked at it. The leader of the group approached the table, looked at the drawing and shyly looked around and put the pencil in the load pocket of the coat. There were three pencil pockets in that pocket.

Friends discussed the situation.

Is he a kleptoman? "Can not the leader of the group, a communist, a candidate of science, and an elderly man, who is forty-three years old, throw pencil for profit?

- Or a schizophrenic, - supported him Yuri, also confident in the moral qualities of Viktor Nikolaevich, - on this you will not earn much.

The discussion was interrupted by the unexpected appearance of a forty-three-year-old elder, a candidate of science, a communist, and the leader of the group.

The comrades! “He started from a distance,” came the time of a tough and difficult conversation for me, which cannot be avoided. Everyone knows that in the laboratory the cangue pencil is missing. Today I conducted an experiment and realized that the cause lies in Sasha, who was recently mistakenly elected secretary of the Komsomol organization.

What did you do, Viktor Nikolaevich? He asked Sasha.

- And from the fact that I have you today experimentally upper four pencils, and you didn't even get upset. Where do you get so many unplanned office questions?

Thus the philosophical experiment on the material saturation of space faced a counter-experiment in the field of ethics. That only emphasizes the scientific nature of this laboratory.

Do you remember what the movie was called about the girl who accidentally got into the show business, made a career there, but chose to return to a normal life?
The Kashan?

In our country the well was without a cover and a wandering dog hit there. The well is not deep, in a couple of rings of all, and there was not much water, but the dog could not get out, and therefore walked with a good dog mat to the whole district. We were not in the country at the time, a couple of hours later two neighbors (40+ and 70+) crossed through our site to save the unfortunate animal. They didn't come up with anything smarter than handing a dog (although long boards were rolled nearby, and a staircase was on the street nearby), for which this frightened animal grabbed his teeth.

The result was extensive, equal wounds, a hospital, seams and probably 40 rabies injections.

The next day a neighbor came up with demands for treatment and moral damage, said you have a well on the site is not closed and in general, my daughter suffered from for you, bla bla bla. To the reasonable question of what kind of shit she decided to give a hand to the wandering dog, she replied something like "the count was for seconds, the dog died and there was no time to think." A few months later, she tried to demand something from us, wrote some complaints, and so on.

My mother and son are three years old and are on the bus and playing games. The mother begins the word, the little one ends.

You are mine...

and Zik.

You are my co...

and TIK.

You are mine for...

The heart...

When a government has nothing to boast about, it begins to boast about the past.