During my turbulent youth, while studying at the institute, I rented a room in a private house in a not very prosperous district of the city from one grandmother. With her in the house still lived her daughter of forty years, with minor mental abnormalities, which appeared after periodically beating her husband-alkasha before. At the time of the attacks, she cried out that everything was “burning”: the TV, the window, me, the grandmother. What this phrase means I don’t know, nobody was interested.

It was winter. Suffering from a cold, I, in order not to go to the shelter by the night past the room, always worsened by this, the daughter of the hostess, decided to squeeze into a paper, in the morning to pack it in an empty pack of cigarettes and, on the way in the morning to the stop, throw it out. Everything went as planned, except that I forgot to throw out this package.

On the evening of the same day, after Friday celebration, my friend and I moved from the cockroach to the stop to catch the wool, as cell phones were just beginning to appear and calling a taxi was not so easy. At 20 meters from the exit to us immediately enters a police box, from where a couple of police boxers come out and ask to provide documents. In general, the scheme is standard - to find a little drunk students (with a lot of drunk foods) and take them, which existed at the time, a shake. Clock them out there, and then, informally fined, expel them. The scheme is flawless and very often practiced at the time. It is impossible to argue or prove anything. And the student is a creature that fears parental anger, dismissal from the institute and even very naive. You don't want to pay - they will only last for a day in a raw and cold shaker with bugs and bumps. It is very boring to be sober.

In general, realizing that it would not be possible to turn away while driving the car to the site, I wanted to put a cigarette and flashbacks in the socks so that it would not be so boring. The car was overcrowded, we were driving in absolute darkness and it was still chilling uncomfortable, so I stopped the light bulbs, and the cigarettes broke out and they went somewhere and while I was looking for them we had already reached our destination. We were quickly pushed out to the reception room and started picking up all the things and checking out.

After removing the jeans, the socket was treacherously melted, lining the square shape of the flashbox. The host sergeant, who saw this, burned his eyes. Immediately stopping the reception and ordering everyone to die, he cried out loudly: "Oh! Vasa, call the understood! We have something interesting here!” The captives did not come, but a crowd of police officers fled, quickly pushing away the other civilians who arrived and circling me. Under the attention of the operator with the camera solemnly opened a box with light bulbs.

It is crazy! Do you wear fireworks in your socks? ! to

I shrugged my shoulders without explaining.

The crowd laughing at the foolish student began to divide.

When they reached the unfortunate pack of cigarettes with a paper, the sergeant, opening it, saw a carefully twisted paper bag. His eyes burned again, estimating the size of the package and mentally simulating new pursuits.

“Oooo! by Vasya! Call the understanders! The sergeant cried out louder.

The crowd of servants of the sergeant gathered almost immediately.

“What is inside? The sergeant asked with tension.

I bowed my head, silently silent. Not to explain...

Carefully, under the eyes of all who gathered, like a bomb, he unpacked a rectangular envelope from an A4 sheet and was extremely confused about the content.

What is it?

and SOPLY.

Why Why?

The nasal.

Shamefully and with horror, he threw the paper two meters away from himself.

What to do with him? He asked a colleague standing next to him.

On to HER! Throw it out to the hares! He was fucking!

A man does not talk about politics. He rests at sea.

Here the people advised this comment to the old story about the water mattress to put in "history". In general, I expose:

We had a couple at the sports club. Couple - livestock, burnt, devacha - blood with milk, liters so on 70. Advice for Love. Here - a bat, he comes somehow to train, - and he has a bloodshed on the scrotum that is unshakable. We are “What is it?” The answer:
She bought a water bed. have put. I lay down and looked. And then she - Kayeek will sneak on that bed from her side... And I was thrown out on the bed.

All the "charme" of the pension reform is that the 60-year-old man in the eyes of the government is a healthy, strong, active alpha male. But in the eyes of the employer - a sick, dull, bored old man.

As a student I met a girl (D). The relationship that began at school lasted a long time, about four years. On one holiday, Mademoiselle asked to buy her a new cell phone. The choice fell on the newly released touch Nokia at the time, I don’t remember which model. And the most important instruction was given - the assembly of this device should be anywhere, but not in China!

I went, bought and gave. There was no limit to joy, but it was relatively not long... In the evening there is a call:

D: You are of course a great guy and thank you, but... I asked for a phone that would not be assembled in China!

I am am...

It is worth adding that I first read the box from under the smartphone and there was no word about the Chinese assembly. It doesn’t matter, but I was asked...

What if it breaks down in a week? ! to It will be, I am sure! There are so many reviews on the internet!

I: And why did you think it was collected in China?

D: Well, it is written on the box - Hungary!

I am Ii? ... →

D: What is “Ii”? ! to Is that ‘Ivy’? ! to You bought me a phone from a Chinese mosquito!

In tears, he dropped the bell.

I have a second cat. I live in a private house, I slept before with an open box, I wake up in the morning - some left-handed cat and a mouse sleep in my legs. The family arranged, the cat remained. Now "on retirement" mice do not catch, trained the younger and on a well-deserved rest.

I leave the entrance in the morning. A 10-year-old girl with a backpack goes by and cries, “Sasha, we ran faster. We are late. The dictator is today!” Following is a 10-year-old boy with a backpack on his back and a shoe bag that talks in his hands. It is weaving, barely raising the legs and almost dragging this shoe bag on the ground. Passing by me, the guy sadly said, “We are always rushing somewhere... Enough. I am tired.” And, breathing up, he cried on.