Once I lost the flash, there was nothing important there in principle, a couple of dozens of photos and a few movies. Well lost and forgot about it, fig with her.

One week later, a strange girl called me on the phone, and so Mordvinnn, found your flash, come get it.

I am slightly ugly, because I forgot to think about it, and here it is unknown who, by name and surname, calls and proposes to return this flushed flash.

I bought a large box of candy, prepared a symbolic 1000 rubles, you have to thank someone and went to pick up at the appointed time.

I was all tormented by the question of how she learned who I was and found my number, because there were old photos on the flash drive ten years ago, where I was a young 16-17-year-old guy and did not look like myself real, old and bearded.

When he arrived, the girl told me about her search. First tried to hit the photo through the search for images in Google, but there were no results, then began to search among friends in the UK and check the photos from their pages with photos on the flash drive ( suddenly someone seems, the city is small, could work out), but here she was struck by failure. Then she showed photos to colleagues and one of them found out in the background of our university and the dean of the faculty that I studied at the time. Then they and a friend visited the universe, found the dean, explained the situation, showed a photo, he gave them the number of my former senior and through her, found me.

Why, I ask, was it so stressful?

Well, suddenly these photos were important to you, and you kept them on this flash.

From the money the girl sharply refused, barely persuaded to take candy, said not for the reward tried, but purely humanly, and not very hard at all.

Such good people sometimes come in.

Our president is once again trying to take revenge, competing in armrestling with the "invisible hand of the market."I fear, as if the next time he did not have to compete with the "bone hand of hunger."

A lonely snowman.
I love chocolate and champagne.

In the distant and good Soviet times, I was a Snowmen for three years in a row. I explained. Then professional artists were rarely invited, apparently for savings, and New Year's characters were selected from employees of enterprises.

In my company, Snow White was always chosen a slim, blue-eyed blonde Svet, and Santa Claus was the low-drinking man, which, as it turned out later, was a fateful mistake. So, for some reason, Light had the habit of picking up the flu for the holiday, and I was, so to speak, her doublor, spare Snowmen No. 2.

The snow was healthy. My dark curls were trying to get out of under the white wig all the time, and my little coat was cracking under my head and on my core girl’s chest.

So the celebration scheme was the same for three years. The inexperienced Santa Claus was very quick to get into the dirt, because it was customary to drink him in all the apartments with vodka, and I was served with champagne and chocolate. It was impossible to refuse. The driver refused to replace Santa Claus, and I was forced to carry out the mission alone.

What I did not write to poor children to explain the absence of Santa Claus. Then he walked on deer, rescued geologists who were lost in the taiga, then helped astronauts in space, then in Africa rescued elephants from poachers.

From the excess of champagne and chocolate in the body, I told with such a feeling about his heroic feats that children and adults listened to me as enthralled. Even forgot to read the New Year's verses about the tree tree and drive around it. It took me, not to stop. Then the Father on the fires brought people out of the fire, then the thief who stole the old lady's bag caught, then the birth took. In general, it is horrifying what can be said about the champagne snuggle.

But people liked it for some reason. Then I gave the kids New Year's gifts, kissed everyone in the cheeks on behalf of Santa Claus and left, all so drunk, bright, fixing on the go my dark curls, coming out of under the white hair.

Since then, I almost don’t drink champagne, I don’t like chocolate, but the habit of telling all sorts of obscene stories I still have. With the coming!

He drinks water and flows.
You listened to the brief content of the press conference of the President.