The morning. I took my grandson to the kindergarten and went to work. I approach the T-shaped intersection on a secondary road, stopped to miss those who are on the main road.

In the main rush, the haishnikov car is driving, the one in the passenger seat is looking at me.

Immediately behind the intersection, their car stops, the captain-in-chief jumping out of the car and stopping me.

The captain is like that, checking the documents, everything is okay, you can go. Then there was this conversation:

- Commander, tell me what was so suspicious in my car that you stopped for me?

and belt.

So I was attached.

That is suspicious.

It happened here, a day ago, to go in public transport. Heat below 30, hot, sweat. Oh, the grandmother in the wool cloth and in the pantyhose! Chinese, Chinese from the 90s. Money to the conductor gives and demands, does not ask, namely, requires that the locks of the bus (guard) and forks closed. that :

Not for money, grandmother. Order a taxi! Turn the oven on!

I found it, the stallion. The grandmother wept and went.

Going today to shave, talked to a girl hairdresser, she says - you have such good hair, you probably wore long hair during the Beatles? I only have 40. OOO

A friend works in the deck. Two days in 12 hours. They were asked to go out for an unscheduled night shift during their rest. for a walk. It was strictly requested. The men gathered and began to get angry. The type that for a vacation, there the same night must pay, and better generally for double payment. Do not go! So they broke the collective and went apart by the houses.

A friend told me this after a beer. And one whitened with grays camarded him and said:

There will still be a rat that will go out to work to lick the boss.

Yes, we have a collective! All men of the world! Heat with a friend.

A few days later he told me.

Everyone went to work except him.

I had three stories in my life, after which I stopped giving people money on the street.

1st The Favourite

We went with a friend to the KFC as schoolchildren, picked up food and already departed from the box office, as a bombardment came to us and asked for money for potatoes. The friend complained and gave, the boy recounted the little things and asked, "What, you don't give money for cheese? “” To what a friend quite reasonably said something like, “Are you not an officer? “”

Bohm turned in the direction of the exit with the words "I don't eat without cheese potatoes" and left. The whole line and the cashiers.

2nd Get a ticket home.

The classic now divorce with a suitcase, but then seemed to be a novelty, gave a guy 200p for food and offered to transfer to relatives or friends money on the card so that we could take them off at the ATM, which he replied: "No, I don't want to stress anyone, and so norm, they feed for free, the money is given, and friends will then have to give."

Three I want to eat that the tubes burn.

The bombardment came and begged tears to give money, because he died of hunger. I went to the nearest dining room with him, he was not allowed inside, said he would wait, in the end I bought soup, cabbage, something else. I go out and he is not. It became so rough that he threw food straight into the urn. He returned to the stop, and he is already dull.

One day, I remembered such a story:

I turned my foot on football and had to go to the clinic. I was very young and my mother led me (you know in Chelyab, Leninsky, where the trams will jump, the eighth child), here she rushed, and I crumbled small, she says harshly.

and faster,

I stopped her with the question:

“Mom, would you like to have a mom like me?“”

She shrugged. I thought. And he said “No.”

I’ve lost my whole family a long time ago, but because of this story I remember it.

Love your mother, she is alone.

People sitting at the budget feedbox do not need a food basket.

Have you ever lived near a mountain river?
In my youth I had to live a couple of months in the Caucasus at an altitude of 1500 m in the valley of the river Laba.
When we arrived there, the noise of the river overwhelmed all the other sounds in the valley. To say something, I had to scream in my throat. I thought that the cranes: either we will squeeze everything, or we will shake our throats, or both.
Two or three days passed. It turned out that birds are singing here, cycades are striking, there is no need to roar at all, and the noise of the river is heard only if you listen specifically.
More experienced comrades in mining explained that it is the brain itself, beyond our will, filters out the constant useless noise, not carrying information.
So, dear women, don’t be offended that your husband doesn’t hear your vocal flow.
Nothing personal, only physiology.

Can you talk about anything other than retirement?
and well.
Well, let’s talk about fishing.
“I also thought I’d retire, I’d go fishing, and now you’ll survive this fucking fishing.

He taught his future wife to swim. We went into the sea not very deep, approximately through the chest. He began to show how to breathe, grasp, and so on. He supported her from below when she lay on the water.

They sailed along the shore. But, apparently, the bottom was not very even, and, swimming a little aside and tired, she decided to stand on her feet. But the bottom was not underneath them, and she, in panic, grabbed me so that it was impossible to tear her off. I, in this state, naturally, too, could not swim and tried, resisting her pressure, to advance together towards the shore. But nothing came out of it, the grip was strong and pulling down.

I don’t know how, but in a state of shock, the brain thinks differently. He began to act intuitively, and then recalling this situation was shocked by the fact that if not this decision, they could drown together.

I shouted to her, “Exhale and hold on! "And he himself, having exhaled, went down with her to the bottom (it was very close, even less than a meter below us) and walked down the bottom to the side of the shore. It all happened in seconds.

Remembering is still scary.

I remember when you started walking at 11 months, like a cat whispered naked.

Uncle, who are you?

I’m signed to your mother on social networks.