We gathered for a family dinner.

My brother and I have almost one son. They go to the garden.

Children play in the children’s room and suddenly scream.

Give me the machine or I’ll hit you. A boy is screaming.

- Fighting is not good, - wisely notices the second.

Fight well! A fan of violent methods of conflict resolution. I’m knocking your door now!

Fighting is not good! The young man begins to get nervous.

I say you do well!

No, it is not good to behave! The young pacifist can’t stand and beats his brother with his fist in the eye.

I from 5 years to 17 every fucking weekend went to the country, on a fucking, overcrowded stool, grandmothers with wheelchairs, men with bodies, they were gathering there like on vacation. I was not so sad even when I was taken to the army, as before entering this branch of hell. How many times have I been beaten by fucking bags, and one day, by the flow of babies, I was taken off at the wrong stop and the bus left without me, a child’s injury forever.

I begged relatives to go later or get on the bus last, but they didn’t listen to me. At exactly 6 o’clock in the morning, a line of 666 people ran into the guard for 40 people. And now it seems all, there is not a single micron of free space, but the grandmothers with wheelchairs thought differently, they literally flowed like a liquid and occupied those atoms of free space.

For me, a puddle the size of a scarf, there was not enough air on the bottom of this hellish pot.

And then, around 6.15 a.m., "it" woke up and at this moment even the most stubborn grandmothers with the largest wheelchairs began to nervously read prayers.

At 6.16, fully awake, the conductor began to move. From nose to tail. She was like a icebreaker, blurring passengers, no "transfer for passage" only movement in front and a cold contemptible look. I was usually in the middle of the bus and awaited with horror the moment when it would pass by and with the same horror awaited the return of the conductor from the tail.

I just closed my eyes and gave myself to the fate, if it is supposed that my head will spit between the butt of the conductor and the grandmother's cart, then fuck him.

The problem is not that our power works badly, but that it works badly for our money.

I live on the first floor of a multi-storey building, working from home.
Most people go out for work during the day.
The rest are very sick. Every week an ambulance calls. After the doctor’s visit, the mailboxes were filled with advertisements.

I got tired of it and I inserted the cap for the entrance:
Hi to you! This is an ambulance, please open it.
Hi to you! Go through the drop to prove that you are not a robot. What happens at high pressure?
– Eeee
- Free

A few days later I call again:
The ambulance! Open it!
What happens at high pressure?
What...? Dybazole and Papaverine! Open it!
enter in

Before you crack the bubbles in the packaging polyethylene, remember - the air there is Chinese.