There are two things that pay off in this life: encyclopedic knowledge and Christian attitude toward others.

In the electric car, two police officers sitting opposite and guessing crosswords found themselves in an intellectual impasse, facing a French four-letter impressionist artist. They are honest and do not go crazy.

I think they are all people. Dega I say.

Exactly fit it.

Further from me sought the capital of Peru and the author of the novel "Ovod" on six letters.

There are controllers in the car. I searched for a ticket and couldn’t find it. Where he went, the devil knows. I get confused in all my pockets. The controllers are standing.

We pass, we pass, - strictly says one of the policemen, - this with us, to the investigative experiment we take.

If the secret services break into my apartment, then, reporting on the situation in the railway, they embarrassed to say the phrase "here clean."

This has happened to my grandfather since 2008. He lived alone in a new building, the apartment was received as a member of the WOW. The house is not far from me and I could visit it every day.

He was over 90 years old, but he was healthy and served himself. But around 2008, I began to notice that he slept badly, sometimes falling asleep in the afternoon, sometimes on the bench near his house. He himself said that at night he will be a bird who knocks at the window. Death is knocking. Well, we wrote off the age, even to the psychiatrist, he also wrote off the age. I even stayed with him for a week, but no one knocked. The grandfather’s confidence that this death even strengthened. I’m young, I don’t come here. Four years ago he was gone. No one lived in his apartment. A week ago I stayed in that apartment. I heard that knock at night. When I woke up, I walked to the window and noticed nothing unusual. There is no one on the 14th floor.

I decided to stay a few more days. And I really woke up at night by knocking out the window!

He set up a seat, and it turned out that this crazy aunt from the neighboring apartment was knocking in the window with a long stick.

This man has been tormenting his grandfather for years. I, of course, wrote a statement to her, but it doesn’t matter... She doesn’t open the door, she doesn’t react to the threats, and she recently wiped out the doors of my car.

Sometimes relatives come to her, but I can’t cross with them. My aunt has a certificate that she is fucking.

It is not necessary to change the constitution for the effective operation of the government, but the government for the effective operation of the constitution.

My father was nine years old when the war began and he lived in a small village. Sometimes he talked about war. I was, of course, expecting heroic stories with shots and explosions, but he was telling from how they survived.
I will tell you from the first person (for simplicity).
The Germans came in suddenly. At noon, tanks appeared in the streets, and German soldiers began to run around the houses. Two soldiers came to us. There were chickens in the yard. One of the Germans, throwing the machine behind his back, began to catch chickens. They ran away and did not give in their hands. He fell a couple of times. The second, in sight, laughed amusingly. The first was tired. He took the machine and dropped the line. A few chickens fell. He took only two bodies and they laughed away.
All the harvest, from the collective fields, the Germans took. Nearly all the crops were taken from the villagers. They took a cow and a calf from us, leaving only one cow, but they took all the seed.
The winter came early, but the potatoes were not all gathered. But the Germans forbade it. At night, my mom and I avoided patrol, sculpted her.
Frozen potatoes have no taste at all. And my grandmother kept the salt only for bread, and sometimes did not add it.
Cows also need something. We wore her carpet. Because of this milk gave the needle. And also from a needle, my grandmother made a decoction, which they drank instead of tea.
In the spring they cooked the soup of urticaria (soup), and the labyrinth was dried and added to bread.
The Germans stood there. They settled in houses. We lived in Senegal. They ate in the middle of the village, where there was a kitchen. The cook was a thick and eternally evil German. His assistant was young and clever. In the morning, the assistant gathered the child (then we began to come by ourselves) and we cleaned the potatoes, and the cleaning could be taken. After lunch the assistant gathered and the younger child (then we began to come by ourselves). The cook spilled the rest of the lunch equally. His assistant watched for the elderly not to offend the younger.
The Italians were there. They were not like the Germans. They bought milk, eggs and chickens, but we exchanged for a bowl.
Near the village there was a stall where we swam and fished. There were three Italians. They bathed, then forced us to depart from the shore, lie down and clamp our ears with their hands. They threw a grenade into the water. We picked the biggest fish and showed on the fingers that the rest could be picked up.
It was already cold. We caught fish. Police passed by. One of them threw a grenade. We were overwhelmed by water. The policemen laughed away. I had ears sick for three days, and my younger brother was a rabbit for the rest of his life.
The breach from the east was approaching. The Germans began to gather the inhabitants and drive them under the convoy of police to the west. My grandmother was already very sick. She was shot in the house.
In the evening, police and villagers fled. We stayed in the woods for two days. Eat grass and bark. Even my little sister (who was 5 years old and loved to cry loudly) never said a word.
There were two Soviet soldiers. They broke the forest. They said our village is free. Then they got a bowl and bread. When we ate, they gave my mom a few cans of pasta and a bowl of bread. One of them, scattered in his bag, got a chocolate trophy. He gave his sister in his hand. And crushing her for the hair on his head ran to catch his companion.
Momma stood, pressing the canned food and bread to her chest and tears flowed, and the sister looked at her and didn’t know what to do to her.

Very poor everyone lived in the USSR, everywhere something was collected - metal, maculature, herbaries, coins, marks.
No money was collected for treatment.