I am 14 years old, competing in the field of sambo.

I take the 2nd place in the area and joyfully run into the dressing room with the medal, throw it in the bag, throw off the pieces and run into the shower with the towel. (There was a lot of people there, so those who went to the competition will understand me)

And there, 8 girls 18+... (interrupted the dressing room foreigners).

It’s been almost 20 years, and I still have those nice memories :)))

P.S No, I did not leave :)

xxx: I once got into a cool group of women’s stuff for 100,500 subscribers in VK. And directly in the first record on behalf of the administration found five mistakes. Right under this record left a comment that it is not so beautiful, smart and cool as they position themselves, girls make such mistakes, they are read. What I was directly there answered in the style of "I went on the shit, we do not write dictates here, we are engaged in casmetec" And there were more than 100 such answers, no fool from this group supported me. And then it fell in the face. I was so in shoah that I blocked this fucking group. In the damn of these beautiful, I will be friends with the terrible, but literate.



Yyy: "I will be friends with the terrible, but literate."

The guys have a chance!



Zzzz: But not for you. Five missed

xx1: I’m always roaring when I go to the classical dress section at Wildberry, where this pseudo-Italian shit is a pond pond.

Toni Hueti, Dino Govnici, Carlo Zalupini and so on.

Why do they invent these Italian names for brands? Business model of some grandparents from the market.



xx2: Many are rolling, such as Carlo Pazolini, Incanto, Zolla



And everybody knows they’re Russian.



xx4: Some do not know and think that we are not producing anything.



xx5: So it is not mainly manufactured, it is ordered in China, and we have stamps sewn.



xx6: Birks are also sewing in China



xx7: Well, the price is exactly our hanging



xx8: No, sellers from Central Asia



Q9: Do you buy them?



X10: No

It will be bad, go ahead. I love to be angry.

I lived with my wife in Venice for a week. Right on the second street from San Marco, in a cozy and luxurious hotel, where there was only one inexpensive room under the roof, with which we were lucky then. We got up early in the morning and went to the sleeping city. There was a sense of some unreality of what was happening when you wander here alone on deserted streets and squares where even pigeons are not yet.
We walked so long, for two or three hours, until the garbage dealers began to knock their chariots, collecting bags of garbage, that they were dropped from the windows and balconies right on ropes with clamps. Funny, by the way, the spectacle.
Those who have been here not as part of a one-day tour, but lived here for at least a few days, know that at different times of the day this is absolutely different city.
In the morning, Venice still lives by herself, she wakes up, opens her famous bedrooms, greets neighbors, breakfasts, walks dogs, takes boats to school and goes to work. By that time, all the central streets and squares are already tightly filled with the noisy outdoors of tourists. Thro the day they are continuously photographing and selfieing, because the best nature for this activity is simply not to be found. The city is really very generous, it delights all its guests, any view here is beautiful, any photo is unbeatable.
The real Venice returns only in the evening, when it is finally left by the turbulent crowds of visitors and the locals go out to talk and dine, taking seats in cafes and restaurants, children chase the ball in front of churches on deserted squares, the channels cease to be transport arteries and the water in them quietly wraps, reflecting the yellow light of the lights.
In general, the morning and evening are very special hours for this city.
That morning we crossed the Academy Bridge and walked around the Dorsoduro area. Through the narrow streets and bridges we went to the incredible beauty of the temple of Santa Maria della Salute with the entrance in the form of a triumphal arc, then reached the very edge of this area-utyug and went back.
And then suddenly the next thing happens - a young Chinese woman runs to meet us and screams something, and then a healthy fat Chinese is carried with a stick in her hand. Moreover, it is not a typical small Pokémon, but such a huge versilla, like some bad guy from Bondiana. Worse than cabbage and cabbage combined.
The situation is up, go up! The wife is already whispering, you need to do something, and do something in such cases especially and nothing.
I miss the Chinese, I get up in the stand, not my category, but the weight and nothing, if you pierce in the beard, then all the norm, who knows. The other thing is that physics hasn't been cancelled, you won't find it, so it will be removed.
And then he, apparently noticing something or feeling something, brakes and begins to run dangerously around me, shouting confusedly, "Sandrajs!" Showing me somewhere behind my back.
I turn around, and the beauty is beautiful. Directly behind us, the sun appeared to be a peak, making the view of the Venetian Lagoon simply stunning.
The Chinese friendly rushed to the edge, stood up against the backdrop of the pink rising, beginning to photograph feverishly with their selfie stick. And we, waving them for goodbye, went back to the hotel under the usual complaints of the spouse in the fact that I am forever rushing on strangers.
But as they say, I would have been as smart before my grandmother after.

c) The Robot

From the interview with V. V. Putin:
We have launched a vaccine against SOVID-19.
I tried it on my daughter and Alexei Navalny. Effectiveness is 50 to 50.

A friend called, said, come to me, take the debt. The money I needed was urgent, I called a taxi, and once I got a taxi, it was decided to take my wife and son 4 years, and go to the supermarket at the same time. Lanos, the grey, has arrived, a million of them are riding through our city. The wife and son in the rear seat are silent, I am next to the driver, knock on the phone, knock the address specified by a friend. I come to the agreed place, get out of the car and call him:



Well, I am in place.

Do you see the Garage Cooperative? Go in, third street and to the right, there you will see my car.



Well, I walked a few steps, saw the entrance, returned to the taxi, I sat down:



We went to the garage.

Taxi, what is there?

I need to meet a man.

T – Why?

So do not be afraid.



He has gone. I met a friend and took his money. The taxi driver asks:



T: Now where is it?

Go to the supermarket.



From the garages to go there was literally three minutes, we come, I turn to my wife, and there....

and empty. There is no one in the back seat. I am the driver:



Where are my wife and child?

In the meaning? You sat alone in the car.



For a second I thought the working day today was really difficult... But no, I’m not quite touched yet.



I sat down with my wife and child. Am I really sick? ! to (I call my wife)

You were sitting alone.

Allo is well, right?

You are where?

We sit in the car.



and short. Talking to a friend, clarifying where his garage was, I got out of one taxi and sat in another, which stood next door. Also grey Lanos, well, and I did not consider the driver. The most interesting thing, well, I worked out, but as it was from the side of the second taxi driver - a stranger sat in the car, says, let's go to the garage and go. And I went. The first driver? ! to I saw that I was sitting in another taxi, but he says, You said that you would meet a man, I thought it was he.



I almost lost my wife and child. As my teacher said, “Well, even though I haven’t forgotten my head at home,” but that’s not certain.

In connection with pregnancy, the spouse is often driven by impeccable ladies in order to touch the stomach. And my faithful person in general does not love people very much, and even if little-known people touched the stomach... And here is another attempt.

Can I hold my stomach?

Why Why?

For good luck! I also try to get pregnant.

In order to get pregnant you need to touch not the stomach, but men's letters. Do not touch me please!



I shared my experience, fucking.