XX: I am even ready to give up citizenship. The main thing is to get citizenship in a rotten western country, so that I assimilate their bad culture and destroy their foundations from the inside. Viva the Revolution!



YYY: The children of deputies are already busy with this

We once left the hotel in Turkey, the time of departure, let’s say, at 12, at 11:30, I decided to go quickly into the shower, I go out (now I don’t remember, in a towel or even without), the door opens with a key, the grandmother enters and says, “we’re coming here after you, we’ve already given the key, I’ve come, you’ll soon release the room?”

A acquaintance told me. My grandmother told me as a child that you can’t collect money on the street – they can be thrown in order to transmit disease. Sometimes in the second grade we go with a classmate from school, and we see that there is a thousand rubles around the store - huge money at the time. I didn’t take, arguing my deed with grandmother’s instructions, and a friend took it. When I came home and proudly told everyone about it, my sister and mother shouted and called me an idiot, and my grandmother was silent and didn’t know what to say.

XXX: My son, as a child, was convinced that sellers were such special people, inseparably connected with the store. They work there, they live there. And when I told him that the seller's aunt has children and she goes home to them in the evening after work, he was very surprised... Moreover, the guardians in the kindergarten also go home in the evening. The doctors too. He was convinced that all these people were sleeping right at work, as slaves of their positions.

If you judge by the social networks, most read the quote of Chekhov “In a person everything should be beautiful: and the face, and the clothes, and the soul, and the thoughts” only up to “the face and the clothes”.

My husband and I went to the neighboring town for a market.

It was in those times when cars were locked not from a lock, but by turning the key in the lock. You could still press the fixer on the doors and shut down - the result is similar. This time we did so. We return with shopping to the car, and the husband still notices from a distance that on my side the window is opened: I forgot to lift the glass when I went out. The view of the unclosed window acted on the husband as a serum of truth. He immediately wiped out everything he thinks about women’s memory in general and about my girlfriend in particular. Think of a hole on two fingers and a scream on the whole universe. I humbly remained silent. Rarely a faithful man will have a happy chance of criticizing his spouse. So, such a wonderful occasion came up. Let it go.

Arriving at the car. The husband clamps himself in his pockets in search of keys, and in his pockets is empty. They pulled out? The seed? Yes, no, they are lying in the cabin on a panel under the front glass - the husband, when he parked, threw them there by inertia. Officially! My memory does not please him. What is the best?! I was almost broken from the righteous anger. My sophisticated manners, impeccable upbringing and innate sense of tact went in a certain direction, and I gave freedom to the nerves. This, of course, did not solve the problem, but it restored balance and harmony in the relationship.

We walked around the car, kicking hands. My husband picked up the wheels. Strange, the door did not open.

I need to hit the glass.

Under these circumstances, this seemed to be the only possible solution. But while my husband was chesting the surroundings in search of a rocky stone, a promising idea came to my mind. I pulled the rope out of the shoe, tied the cuff at the end, pushed into the gap over the glass, poured the fixer on the mushroom and stretched it into a non-working position.

What an eye!! What eyes had my husband when he came back with a stone and saw me sitting in the car.

Life on Earth seems to be continuing solely for the benefit of pharmaceutical companies.