My close friend fell in love, straight to madness. The woman was a noble manipulator, exposing the culprits, filling her lips, ruining the evening to everyone, sitting with a curved face and demonstrably bloating the nostrils. A classic of female hysteria.

And here a friend calls, in confusion, the lady wanted to rest, and a friend before the vacation for many months, contrary to the reproach she collected things and silenced, shouting loudly "I am at the airport looking for another." A friend asks, says what to do, tired of hysterics arranging. I offered to come to us with my husband, order pizza, beer, watch a movie. He came to us, we sat down, wrote a text message “why didn’t you come?” “why do I sit here now?” “I just left, and not quite” “You fool take me, what do I do to go back at night?”

And we what? They turned off the phone and had a great time, she didn't have tickets, she sat there, took out the remains of things a couple of days later and with the screams "you will never find one" disappeared from his life.

The cousin was supposed to have a wedding this weekend, but just wrote that everything is cancelled, there will be no wedding.



I decided to clarify what happened and overall the story is banal.





A couple of years ago he met a girl, about a year began to live together, he rented an apartment, she moved to him. But since you will not live forever on the seat, you have saved on your own, almost accumulated, but a little before the wedding did not have time. Initially planned a small wedding, but the girl and future aunt were able to convince that you need to know everyone and all, the wedding only once in life, and the apartment part of the wedding gifts will be closed, and part can be borrowed.



The affairs and the apartment were chosen and even the task was left, and after the wedding they had to subdue all the finances and finish the deal.





Preparation for the wedding in its course goes too, including invitations such as beautiful, part personally transported him, brought me, parents and grandfather including.



But if I only congratulated and promised to come, then my grandfather asked me, and how do I plan to buy an apartment, heard the answer about gifts and credit for the rest and said.



"Our grandson, that you will be connected with banks and interest, I put off the last years for funerals, and the sale of the plot remained, let me give you everything as a gift, you will make a surprise to your wife, you will bring it straight from the crown to your apartment, but if I go out before I accumulate again, then you are a normal tomb, not a box under an orange)".





He naturally agreed, said he really wanted to make a surprise to his wife, completed the deal, bought the apartment, even a small cosmetic repair in a couple of weeks he hired a familiar brigade to wrap up.





He says, “You know, I don’t know how to keep secrets especially well, here and then it happened that I slept yesterday in a conversation with my wife on the topic of the deal that nothing will need to be done, everything has already been bought. All I expected, but not that she would mourn me for almost an hour without ceasing to hysterize about the fact that I deceived her, that her mother was right, that she spent a few years on me in vain. Then I rushed to call my mom while I was sitting in shock, where I also wept what a goat. She returned and demanded that after the marriage, the half be rewritten on her so that she "would be confident and protected and could peacefully leave in a decree."



Well, then I did not understand this requirement and word for word collected her bags and sent it to my mother.



And in the evening with my grandfather I spoke and told him this, I thought he would be surprised, and he replied, "Well, it is not in vain that I took the risk that I was in a box of oranges" and I understood that he was already when the money was giving me such an option and that's why I gave them."





In general, they may, of course, still be reconciled, but the grandfather, the potential niece, is unlikely to love, but he thinks about it.

We cleaned the snow with our grandchildren in the garden. The oldest, 14 years old, cleans the roof of the barracks on his own. My 5 year old son and I clean the roads. The roads are cleaned, the grandson is still in need. They cleaned the entrances. Yet too little.

While I was thinking about what else to clean, my grandson began to throw the snow out of the roof onto the trail. I started cleaning off the road, for which I got an excuse from my grandson:

“Dad, do you think I’m throwing snow for you? ! to

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but do I have to clean it?

I’m not for you, I’m throwing snow for myself. Now I will scatter and clean it all.

And indeed, he shrugged a little more, gathered everything, and asked home: it was frozen.

I was very young, 2 or 3. On the way from the army, Daddy Brother came to us. And my mom decided to leave me with him for a couple of hours and go somewhere for business. My uncle went to the toilet. I closed it out there on a spongyard. And I run into the hall, excited by my heroic deed, I shut the door from all the way. It closed tightly. As I did not try to open it, it did not work. Further from Mom’s words. She comes. My brother is knocking in the toilet. There is a strong smell in the room. I cried, wept, wrapped myself in the newspaper and fell asleep on the floor.

Our world has become different. If earlier in the threatened period, the population actively purchased salt, soap and flashbacks, then now - the money stamps of the likely enemy.

A little about coffee.
At the fifth course (1997), to increase my financial well-being, I arranged through my friends to work in Moscow for the Chibo coffee campaign. I never drank coffee before, treated it neutral, well, working there - does not mean drinking it.
I was taken as a merchandiser, the task included controlling the availability of coffee in the stores, the correct arrangement on the shelves, if possible - attracting new stores to distribute this coffee. Chibo knew only that it was German coffee — and nothing more. Six months before this, he was on an internship in Germany, travelled somehow to Dresden, walked there along the shores of the Elbe, where he was surprised to learn that on the slopes of the southern exhibition in the Elbe valley there are seemingly the northernmost vineyards in Europe...
The site for which I was responsible was located in the Krylatsky area, including the beginning of the Rublev Highway. It was here, near the intersection with Krylatskaya Street, that I discovered somehow, while on a free hunt for new shops, the gastronomy "Ezhik". He attracted me with his name, and also wanted to warm up a little (it was October). has entered. With an eye-catching look, he appreciated that "our" coffee is not for sale, but the store is nice, the order is round - there is a chance to lure it into our networks. He asked to bring me to the shop manager, said, I am in the business. I was taken to a small office, packed with cabinets with documents, in the middle - two tables, behind them are sitting two men aged 40 years. I say that I am from the Cibo coffee campaign, I distribute our product, I offer to buy and sell good German Cibo coffee from us, we offer Cibo Families, Milds, Mockas and the coolest – Cibo Exclusive. One of the men suddenly stumbled – German coffee! I say :
Yes from Germany.
Men, almost not a chorus:
Does it grow right there?! to
Here I grew up a little... I don’t drink coffee, I don’t know anything about it, where it grows there – on beds or on trees – I don’t know, while I worked somehow and didn’t think about it. But nothing to do, the main thing is to squeeze the goods!
Yes, I say, it’s right there and it grows!
Men roast: coffee only in the southern countries, go away from here, have had fun for the whole day!
- German coffee grows on the slopes of the southern exhibition in the valley of the Elbe, in the vicinity of Dresden, there it has enough sun on the edge, so it has a very specific taste, but in general - a pleasant drink, highly valued in Europe, finally reached us. Near the coffee plantations are also the northernmost vineyards in Europe, you, as a merchant, should know about them!
The men were silent. The detailed information led them to some confusion: hz, maybe there and really these Germans brought something new... At the prices of coffee acceptable, the packaging is beautiful... They say, let us now make a trial order, see how it goes, we will discuss everything with the management and if it goes – we will take. I filled up the papers and went with them.
The day after 3 was the delivery of coffee to "Ezhik", and after 3-4 days I decided to go to them, see how the different varieties were displayed and offer to place according to our rules. I go to the store. Our coffee stands on a separate showcase, in the right order (recommendations on arrangement to the first delivery were attached), all the way, it’s not for nothing. I ask the cashier how they get. She says that well, the product is new, everyone likes, take, young man, you will not regret. I say it’s me who supplies it. Here my aunt surprised me sharply: hearing this, she immediately stumbled at the whole store somewhere inside the store: "Nicolas, Vasya, he came, go faster!!!". I was more frightened by this reaction than surprised, I think I need to tear my nails before it is too late. But I didn’t have time. The old merchants rushed and put me under their hands in their closet cabinet. They sat on a chair at the end of the table far from the entrance, one was left to guard me, the other went out somewhere right away. But I did not even have time to ask what was going on, as he has already returned, but not alone, but with a tall elderly Armenian. “Here, Armene Wachtagovich, that’s him!” Armene Wachtagovich looked at me for a few moments with some astonishment, then also sat down and got a bottle of cognac from somewhere. The second merchant sat next to me and so they almost surrounded me. "Well, let's drink for the German coffee Chibo, growing on the shores of the Elbe of the southern exhibition," Armén said unexpectedly and all were poured. Despite the fact that I did not drink, I had to apply, because to understand what is happening, I still could not.
Will you order coffee again? I asked to ask something.
The German? I asked the merchant.
“Yes, German, from the shores of the Elbe,” I answered firmly, and imagined a bottle of cognac flying into my head.
Here, these three were roasted, with the merchants almost in one voice, and Armene with a pleasant whisper of a wise man. They rolled on their chairs, beat their hands on the table, pointed to me with their hands and couldn’t stop! I sat, not understanding anything, and knocked my eyes. Then Armene calmed down and said, “Vasily, tell him, he doesn’t understand anything!”
He, with difficulty restrained, said the following. When I first came to them and started pushing coffee, they almost decided to send me. There were many such walks, and I was the fourth to offer them something that day. But they were caught up with German coffee, which, as they knew, does not grow in Germany. But I gave the details of growing, say, geographically unique coffee, and they were a little doubtful about their knowledge. I decided to try and figure out what sort of one this is. After I left, they called Armene (here it turned out that he was the store manager) and told him about the offer. The Armenians laughed at them from the heart (German coffee!), but they told him about the shores of the Elbe of the southern exhibition... They sent someone to the neighboring store for a package of Chibo exclusive, cooked, tried. I liked it, but how could it be from Germany? In short, almost until the morning they first tried to find some information about Chibo on the Internet (and he was very slow and did not work ahti), called friends from other shops, at two nights came to some base to the Koreans, where they were told where he was brought and where he was packed, what was in his composition, etc. During this time, they drank two bottles of cognac and fell asleep in the morning at the office.
No coffee grows anywhere in Germany and has never grown there. Your Chibo is made from Arabica and Robusta that grow in South America, Africa and Asia! In Russia it appeared two years ago (in 1995), and only so few people know about it and you were able to swallow our brains!
They told me a long time about coffee, about its varieties, how and where it grows, where it is made... It feels like they have grown significantly as coffee specialists over that night. And I learned more about coffee during that lecture than before and after... Armene remembered that night, too. He probably hasn’t been involved in such an intellectual drive for a long time to find out what a passing student is trying to do to them... In any case, we broke up very well, and I left with a big order for a new coffee.
I worked in the coffee company for six months, I appeared in "Ezhik" about once a week, and every time my aunt at the box shouted "Nicolas, Vasya, he came!" - and we, waiting for Armene, went to the cabinet to drink, who coffee, who brandy, who coffee with cognac. It was then that I tried coffee, although I became addicted to it later, 2 years later, under different conditions. After I defended my diploma and left the company, for two years I occasionally appeared when I ran past them, but then the store closed and it seemed that the system of gastronomists "Ezhik" disappeared. At least I did not meet them again. Unfortunately, they had the most delicious German coffee from the slopes of the southern exhibition from the valley of the Elbe!

The evil tongues claim that the casino in Monaco has an advertisement in Russian:
Heroes of Labor of Russia are served in general order.

Five years ago, I visited Disneyland with my family. By night, when it was dark, we ran to the toilet. The male was relatively free, but the female formed a decent line. I am standing on the side, waiting for my husband. Suddenly I noticed that there was a man in the line to the women’s toilet. After standing quietly for five minutes, he suddenly began to look around somewhat faintly and finally asked the ladies who stood with him something. I did not hear the question, but I heard a friendly laugh, after which the guy quickly left the line. Later, the wife, laughing, told me that the guy asked, “Which attraction is this line?”

He was with me in Leroy. It’s summer, it’s hot, we’re in line to cut off the board. As always, there are no specialists, the turn of 10 people, we have been waiting for an hour. And here enters the grandmother with the windsurf and says, "Let it go without a turn! » I’m not a ham, but I asked, “Are we here for a joke? Stand in line, like everyone else, and wait.”

And here it came:

You and Ham, young man! I am a sick man, I am sick. Miss it!

With all my respect, but if you’re not well, what hell are you standing behind the boards? A woman with a child has been standing for an hour.

How are you...! Yes I...! You are...!

Those kinds of people

My wife told me a story that happened before we met her.



She went somehow with her friends to a restaurant, of course, drank, ate. They talk, laugh, and everything is fine. In the restaurant, the host announced that in 5 minutes the male striptease will begin. One of his wife's friends, Lena, who has long been married, modest, a rude word from her you won't hear, with all on you, after this announcement in the face changed. The girls were worried and asked, “Len, are you okay?” And Lena says, “It’s all bad! I forgot my glasses!“”

There was a case with me when I was a child when I was locked in the toilet. The handle on the door of our bathroom was round with a button in the middle – this button and closed the door to the lock. I went to the toilet and closing the door, as usual, pressed a button. Maybe I knocked too hard or something broke inside, but the pen remained in my hand! On the other hand, the pen fell off: I heard it fall on the floor. And here, I stand in the toilet, the door is locked to the lock, and I don’t know how to open it. Mom and Dad are at work and will come only in the evening, I am home alone. Crying is useless - it is unlikely that the neighbors will hear me, and the situation is unpleasant, but not critical. So I stayed locked up in a small room until the evening, until my father came and released me. After that incident, he rained for a long time and nodded over me.

I remember when I was a child, I found a puddle in the shape of some megablaster. She was perfect in her hand, and looked roofy! In the meantime, the fox was frozen. So I hid it in the snow and dug it every day and continued to play. It was such a unique fig that when her stool fell, she even tried to “freeze” a new one. But of course it was no longer that.

But these days I was the coolest mega warrior!!! to

When a politician calls the enemies of a country, he always refers to his personal enemies. Do not confuse!

More about the names of the ships (short history https://www.anekdot.ru/id/1290168/ )
In 1939, the light cruiser Molotov was launched and joined the Black Sea Fleet of the USSR. He worthyly conquered the Great Patriotic, but suffered from the exacerbation of class struggle in peacetime. When the Communist Molotov was exposed as a member of the anti-party group, on August 3, 1957, the ship received a new name "Slava".
Nobody remembered that Molotov's name was Vyacheslav.

Ten thousand people are missing, right? And four hundred thousand policemen, there is where to get?! to

Do you complain about a boring movie? You might think your life is more interesting.

We decided to go to Toulouse. A week before the trip, she told her husband, “I feel like someone is waiting for me there. “I am late for a meeting!” My beloved is silent. When we arrived, we decided to go to the store. We stop, get out of the car, and a small piece of wool runs to meet me and blows. He hugged me with his legs and shrugged. I got into the car after the invitation. It was a pure Burmese cat. We dropped it a week before we picked it up. No one was there, they were waiting for us!

The most naive natives not only exchange the gold coils for glass coils, but also give the coils for storage to insidious merchants back into boxes for security. However, they are no different from other indigenous people, who exchange oil and gas for green papers, and the papers are stored in the same boxes where the boxes already lie.

My sister, when she was 12, came home from a drawing group (worked hard, wanted to become an architect). Sitting at the table for lunch, Dad asks her, saying, What did you paint today? The sister pulls out the soup and calmly answers, “The naked man from nature.” Father, I have to say goodbye, but I was slightly drowned. It turns out, the head of a man of a gipsy nature - Plato or Aristotle, I do not remember. The painting was beautiful

I came to take my first-class daughter from school. The teacher begins to say that Masha the girl is counted, but in all the examples cites Harry Potter, and the whole class has already settled on these books, that there are other books... then somehow strangely looked at me and translated the conversation to another topic. All the way home I told my daughter that there were many different books and heroes, and the Unknown, and the Wizard of the Emerald City, the Mummy Trolls, and that she would tell more about them. And then we came home and in the mirror in the hallway I saw that I was wearing a maid with the emblem of Hogwarts.