I told a story at work.

The case was in the 90s, at the height of popularity of viewers and VHS cassettes. The venue is the office. One of the employees calls the son of pre-school age:

and Mom! Could Cole come to visit me?

Maybe, let him go in.

Can we take a look at the multicolors?

Look at it if you’re not tired of the same thing.

- And I found a cassette on the closet, "Snow White" is written, I have not seen this cartoon yet.

The mother changes sharply in the face and, confused in words and valuable instructions, shares in the tube: "Don't touch the cassette, it's broken! View does not work! Don’t go into a big room!” He throws the phone on the lever and runs home from a low start without even changing clothes.

Films for adults based on fairy tales.

I don’t even remember what I dreamed. But he was awakened in the middle of the night by a vigilant wife with a question in her forehead: "What is Olya?"

What kind of olive?

I wanted to ask you, what kind of olive is this?! to

What...what woke me up?

In a dream, you called Olya. Their mistress? Fuck her? What was silent? Go and talk!

Did I call in my dream?

In a dream!! to

I... Well then okay...

How is it okay? Have you turned away from me?

In my dreams I can do anything. To fuck, to fuck. So you sleep too.

Today in a dream sought verbally, but rather persistently some girl (well you know, sometimes in a dream there are completely fictional characters).

She chose to refuse me and immediately jump out of the window.

I was not even surprised.

The hypertensive crisis of Elena Malysheva undermined people’s faith in a healthy lifestyle.

In the garages.
This happened in Murmansk 15 years ago.
My acquaintance worked on a foreign ship and went off to the shore with a foreign colleague who had a shipwreck. Their plane was in the evening and they walked around the city all day long.
The attention of the foreigner was attracted by the garage cooperative. The acquaintance explained that this is a place where cars are stored and repaired, as well as "take a party".
The foreigner became curious how it could be drilled in the midst of mechanisms and oil, they entered one of the open boxes... And the acquaintance broke out of pride.
It was a perfectly sliced garage lined with a canvas. On the wall were painted portraits of Dostoevsky and Tsoi.
Inside was a bearded owner and with a thoughtful look drank beer and listened to the music of Tchaikovsky from the loudspeakers of the "Volga" standing there.

It seems to me alone that when ministers and deputies tell us on television about how our lives are improving, there is not enough laughter?