He worked in an open space office. Our director was disturbed by the cleanliness, so the cleaner wiped the floor everywhere every two hours, and wiped out the baskets. It was during this action that she began to comment on everything, we felt extremely uncomfortable about it, and I didn’t expect the garbage bowl to be such an “intimate” place:

You didn’t eat the yogurt, half of it was left.

Ready to blink? You usually cook yourself.

It is an alphabet of taste. Have you decided to kiss yourself today?

- Do you have so many envelopes in the discount store for these candy?

Pizza, what was the party?

The McDonald’s! As he opened it, everyone now takes this shit!

I broke the biscuits and I cleaned them.

No more on the diet, chips again and again!



Or eating an apple, she’s going to shake out the basket, but says, “Let’s eat fast and throw it, I’ll take it!” And shakes a cane in front of his nose.

Conversation with the customer (man and client):

I: Now you need a passport, a technical passport, a certificate of an accident. Is the car designed for you?

K: No to my husband.

For my husband?

A: Yes to my husband.

And then I began to think. To say that the customer looked somewhat sweet - cannot. A man as a man. I have not seen any unusual habits or unconventional strikes in the last 20 minutes. Probably everyone has heard about the first attempt to register a gay marriage in Russia (it ended in failure). And how, fucking, could it be that the car was decorated for the husband? ? to

As if after reading all the confusion in my eyes, the client finally said, “To my sister’s husband, of course. Here is the mandate.”

Thank you, I bought it in Stam. The first part was held with the girl, but she became the former shortly before the end of the game and playing with her was not so interesting. Someday I’ll go through the first part and the second part.

How beautiful you said about a broken arm.

Feeling “dejave” means that in the near future you are dead and now downloaded a backup at the time of saving.

I once met a girl named Judy. It would be fine, but she’s quite Korean. There is nothing Armenian in it. He could not stand and asked:

How is it that you are Korean?

As my grandfather told me, when his father moved to the USSR, he did not understand Russian at all. When they started drawing up documents, they asked how his name was? Someone suggested that they want to say his name. He responded to Su Di Yang. He asked something else, but he did not understand. So he became Ivan Ivanovich Sudian.

I do not claim credibility. Per a family battle.

I live in the private sector. Yesterday bought a budget trimmer (motokosa), to maintain order in the courtyard. Started its exploitation today. At the roar of the technique approached two faces of acquainted men. Presented by neighbors from the "top" of the street, offered to wash the purchase, at the same time to try on their sites. The third, a neighbor through two houses, with whom in turn carried each other a couple of times, knocked on the vatsap with the words: "Brother, knock at my gate, now on the guard, when we arrive we will count." Everybody polently refused, citing the lack of time and the not-passed equipment. Nothing pushed neighbors to communicate like a new trimmer.

I have a friend.

Drives on very thin girls of painful appearance, with thin legs and without roundings. They are called goddesses.



We go in the evening, meet two silhouettes: thin, long hair, straight as needed.

He said, “Look at the goddesses.”



These two guys appeared.

I was waiting for this day :D

Worked in the factory. We produced steel tanks and our main customers were the military. As a result, we received a request to eliminate a leak in the tank at their base. They sent people who removed this flow by the method of cold welding. Further, according to the artist: we are coming, and there are more than 30 tanks and under three of them traces of decently leaked oil products. We examined all three, found a microcrack in only one of them. At first I didn’t understand how the microcrack was one under one of the three tanks, from this crack could only flow out 1-2 drops a month, and out of three as from under the crane. Then it came to me! Apparently, the head of the base noticed a drop, showed a fighting cleverness, poured several wheels of petroleum products under three tanks and informed the management that the tanks are running. Everyone arrested us, called us, we did our job and left, and on this basis he wrote down the previous stuff.

We have medicine that only time can cure.

“We are not twins. Three of us...” (Eralashevsky)
I work in the shooting field. There are three brothers who are similar in face. The documents are brothers. They present pistols of one brand, one letter series, numbers almost in a row - conditionally speaking, 762, 763 and 765. It’s wrong, I think, and I ask:
Where is the fourth brother?
The joke.
They were surprised. I demonstrate the recorded numbers - one, say, is missing.
They rush:
Not a brother, but a sister. He is married and does not shoot.

From a bee’s point of view, she just lives her own life. And only the shepherd knows that she actually collects honey for him. But the bee will never understand this, because the shepherd goes beyond its scope of thinking.

You know, I’m often told that I have a “face of trust.” Per this is because there are a lot of beetles on it, and some of them are in very funny places. One, for example, the brightest and largest under the eye. Because of this, I am often told that my body has been spread, or that I have been worn out, some bold people climb to it with their pins to wipe out this spring.

Or maybe it’s because I’m short-sighted and sometimes I look closely at people with the sweetest facial expression possible, trying to understand whether we’re familiar or not.

In any case, I should go out, and the best interlocutor for sudden revelations or altruistic help you will not find. I think everyone who sees me thinks. Old people are constantly talking to me, children are forever greeting me, they ask me how to find a way (and this is a big mistake), I have been asked several times to hold someone else’s child, a dog, a bag, a wallet, I am asked for hygiene by desperate girls, they talk to me at events to support the conversation and not feel uncomfortable. Completely strange people share secrets and revelations with me, confident that I will not tell anyone (although they may just talk, I keep my secrets with me). And you know, I haven’t fooled anyone yet! Except for those who ask the way. You can easily leave a bag of money with me. But today, guys, a woman asked me to attach her to a hoist. I think that, fucking, I have to decide. What a confidence to let a man fall under your shirt!

And, to be honest, those moments make me good. They usually don’t cost anything, but they thank you, and you feel like at least a little has helped someone.