On Mondays, the alarm clock is silent. It’s a weekend, shit.

I live in Toronto. My friend works as a project manager in a small construction company. Call to talk. I hear a rather thoughtful voice, asking, “What are you doing?” she (again thoughtfully): “I make a schedule of football matches...” At the same time neither she nor I are suspicious of the interest in football (I, for example, was not aware that the European Championship had begun). To my directly asked question “what kind of?” followed the answer: “To plan work with subcontractors.” My confusion grows, so the explanation follows: “To know which brigade when will not go to work. For example, the Italians have concrete, so no concrete work for the days when the national team of Italy plays, can not be planned, one shit will not come out. Who has the roof? The Portuguese. So no roof for this day, and if, don’t give God, lose, then for the next. And I still need to look at the edge of my naked eyes to be in the subject and maintain the conversation!”
I know very little about construction.

A French tourist in Israel wants to make a boat trip on the Lake Tiberias. The owner of the boat calls him the price, he quickly translates in his mind and says:
Five hundred euros! You are crazy!? to
But, Messiah, on this lake Jesus himself walked on the water.
Not wise, with your tariffs.

Xxx: a freezer with experience can show fractional numbers on fingers

Xxx: I once said I don’t have a PC, only a console. They wanted me to be healed and to die.



YYY: Well what, has he healed?



ZZZ: Dying