When a person becomes intolerably bored, he begins to commit acts unusual to him - up to work.

She took from the drinking family the blinding beauty of the one-year-old Doberman (no one was engaged in them, could write right in the apartment).
Her husband is on a criminal investigation and returns late. But the dog loves when he comes back and has learned the phrase "Daddy has come."
The evening. The dog walked into my chair and swung up. I’m trying to push – hold on. I pretend to listen and say, “Papa has come!” The dog crashes from the place and runs to the door to meet. I sit in a chair and turn on the TV. The dog, waiting at the door for 3 minutes, returns, sees me in the chair, looks me in the eyes, breathes and lies on the floor. It passes 15 minutes. He sharply raises his head, stirring his ears, then breaks off from place and runs to the door with a loud whisper. I go to the door with the thoughts “who the hell brought so late,” I open – NONE! I go back to the chair – the dog is lying in it, swirling with a claw... No scene.

I can’t see you as a vegetable. I disconnect you from the artificial life-supporting apparatus. I love you. I forgive.
Give the smartphone back, shit!

Xxx: Java and JavaScript are like a cat and a puppy.

My friend Max once saved a Negro. The case was so.

He parked near his home in a wealthy suburb of Chicago and saw that nearby two cops were twisting the hands of a tall, brown-headed man with anthracito-black skin. Max is a convinced Democrat who voted for Obama and in the eternal war between the police and the blacks he was sick for the latter. I approached and asked what was going on here.

“He was surrounded in your area for no apparent reason,” the cop explained. I was looking at who to steal.

“That’s Bob,” a friend improvised instantly. He has been caring for the grass in my yard for three years. You should have looked at which of the neighbors did not cut the lawn to offer them their services too.

Is it so? I asked the black man.

It is so, sir!

Okay and live! The cops let the guy go and left.

The Negro threw Max almost at his feet:

Sir, you saved me! I am your eternal debtor. If they had taken me, I would have burned for ten years, not less, so much is behind me. To be honest, I was really going to get into someone’s house. Now it is all! No one else in this area is useful and all their prohibition. Sir, if you have any problems, come to Garfield Park and ask Jeb. Every dog knows me.

A year and a half later, driving through Garfield Park late in the evening, Max broke the wheel. The car was immediately surrounded by a few black guys with dark roses.

“I don’t want trouble,” Max told them. Just let me change the wheel and leave.

One of the guys smiled badly. In exchange for your wallet and your phone. And the magnet. Your shoes have nothing to do with you.

And then Max noticed among the attackers a familiar antracito-black shaved skull.

Hi Jebby! He shouted joyfully. So we met. The debt payment is red, right? Tell your guys to change my wheel and let it go.

There was no muscle on the face of the Negro.

“I don’t know exactly what this white man is talking about,” he said. Pursue everything the guys ask for!

He first hit Max in the cheek. Max fell on the dirty asphalt, suffering not so much from pain, but from black ingratitude.

He was not the Negro. Max, despite all his love for blacks, has never learned how to distinguish them.