of Moscow. I sit somehow in the park on a bench, and nearby workers from nearby abroad work - set up borders along the road. I hear a dialogue between them.

“Russell, go away, I’ll move myself, you’re disturbing me!

Sabbath, are you God?

- Let's argue, will I move the broom, the pipe and the brush?

and ahaha! Allah will help you.

Sabit uses a large lever and moves the plate.

Oh yeah yeah yeah! and Sabbath! So unfairly! You used physics.

I served 10 years ago as a temporary officer in our internal troops. He served as a soldier’s kitchen chef. Before each meal from the medical unit, a woman-pastor must come to check the quality of the cooked and the absence of cyanide potassium, nails or glass beaten. Grandma is interesting. The bicycle continues. He told me in one of his visits.

"They brought a young guy to me, only to the service pulled out from the mommy's shirt. He tried this comrade in the "dryer" account with his life. It all shakes. I wonder why, I say, do this. The guy says he doesn’t want to be here, what he wants to do with his dad. I tell you to endure a little. Service for a year. You can’t look back at how time goes by. Dad is waiting for you. You will serve him right away. It reassured me how.

And then I take, he says, the personal case of this suicide and read that daddy has been dead for two years.

Uncomfortable how it happened...

When I was doing the repairs, my father moved me to the kitchen with the couch. I have chopped! My personal room. The kitchen in Stalingrad was huge. I immediately glued all Nirvana and Aerosmith. But the father ordered everything to be removed, jokes with the bullies of the colonel do not play. It was painful (

And now I watch my daughter glue her room with incomprehensible guys (I don’t even know their names). I asked about one, the daughter, what for a spire you hanged on the wall. It turned out that he was a drug addict who died of an overdose. Knowledge may suggest who it is (type may be a rapper, but I’m hz). In general, now I’m a father, and... I remembered my poster with Kurt Cobain. He stopped asking, he left. Every generation has a drug addict whose posters hang on the walls.

Over the years, I see the details worse, but the picture overall is better.

Today, my mom wanted to wash her precious crystal and so she turned on her favorite classics, poured wine on herself and told stories of her youth while I was washing everything in the closets. A wonderful woman.

The deal of the century: Sberbank bought ourselves at our expense.

When I got a report from my American colleagues about magnetic photography, where the field gradients were indicated in nanotests per foot (nT/ft), I wanted to send them our report the next time, in which nanotests per meter were converted into nanotests per arshin.