Players of the Russian national football team decided to express their support for Zhoube and shake the whole match in full.

James Veron left his home in Gaston, North Carolina, on June 9, 2011 and did what many think was brilliant.



He went to a nearby bank and handed the clerk a note saying:

This is a bank robbery. Please give me a dollar.”

After giving the note, James sat on a chair and waited for the police.



Earlier, he sent a letter to the local newspaper, telling him that he would very soon attempt to commit the robbery, and that he was "a reasonable man, but not healthy."



Later, already in the Gaston County Prison, where he was placed on charges of theft, as one dollar was too small for the prosecutor to be charged with bank robbery, he gave interviews to journalists.



In an interview, James said he worked as a courier at Coca-Cola for 20 years, but was fired and lost his health insurance.



Veron suffered from a tumor in the chest, arthritis and foot pain and decided that the only way to make his life better was to get treatment at the expense of the state in the prison healthcare system.



He may not be the smartest criminal in history, but James Veron is undoubtedly an ingenious and sensible man.

For some, this has long been an obvious truth. I recently discovered an interesting lifehack.

Approximately once a week a friend recruits a team of young guys to unload/load cars in the warehouse. He is given a certain amount, he recruits three from the category of 25-30 years and five 16-17, because among them there are more willing (and they are willing to work for a smaller amount). Also sometimes among them appears a young girl, looking like the same 16 years old. Not to say that she has a strong body, but tries to work equally with everyone, except that she is usually left with lighter objects. I once after loading asked her what motivated her to go here, because the girls are not especially in the loads. It turned out that the organizer himself offered it to her, and also paid up as the senior age category. I did not ask a friend about this, but a few weeks later I noticed one pattern, and then I got to it.

In general, in those days when this girl comes out, the performance of teenagers increases almost twice, and the team takes 40 minutes less time to work. Great, and most importantly, everyone is happy.

He went to the doctor with the girl Natasha. I’m in a crowd of people, I don’t know anyone. When asked where Natalia was, they answered in the store. While we wait for the housewife, I meet my friends, I find a guitar and it fell there... One song, another. One drink, another one. Close the windows to the fifth floor.

About an hour later, the people begin to congratulate Natasha on her birthday and then it turns out that Natasha is not the same person.



In general, I came to Natasha, but much later and not alone. The two drunkards joined together.



The houses are the same, the entrance is the same, the planning of the apartment is the same. And even Natasha was born one day. They even went to the same school, though with a difference of five years.

This is the irony of fate.

I’m in the car along the road with my wife and children. The younger is tired, wants to sleep and therefore bats. They are accepted so. We try to distract him - not even the cartoons help. His favorite music too.

The last attempt to reassure him is to sing his favourite "challenge" - Eat Meat of Men.

The son is silent and by the end of the song falls asleep.

The wife rounded her eyes: “So, did he feed his wife to the guests? What a nightmare!” He sang for her “The Forest”. Again the insight. That is, all the years that we were together, she listened and did not get into the lyrics of songs at all.

Moscow Mayor S.S.Sobyanin from 28.09.20 again introduced the regime of compulsory domestic self-isolation for the Moscowis who have reached the age of 65.The President of Russia Vladimir Putin, as a law-obedient Moskvich who has reached the specified age, fulfilled this order.

I don’t want to swim! - declares my little grandson, and adds for complete clarity:
I do not like to wash!

Well, this, let’s say, is not true. In a few minutes, he will have fun playing in the bathroom with his little brother, making his beard and skins of foam and chasing rubber sluts and ships. He is very busy right now. A man in three years has a lot of things to do.

“I’m very sorry for you,” I told him, helping to collect toys, “when I was a little girl, I didn’t like to shower.

My grandson doesn’t believe me. First of all, all mothers and grandmothers for some reason love to wash. Secondly, grandmothers are not little girls. They just appear in the world - right away grandmothers.

What? How old am I? Well... I still remember the invitation “Come and watch TV.” Here you count.
........................................................................................

We lived in a communal. There was no hot water there. No wonder, many people lived like that. There was no bathroom either. There was cold water in the kitchen. And that was a great good. In the morning, the neighbors ran in a row to this crane - each had a towel on his shoulder, and in his hands - soap, toothbrush and a box with tooth powder. Where did the tooth powder go? He took, and disappeared - at some point, everyone went on toothpaste.)
Water was brought into the house shortly before I was born - before that, I had to walk with a barrel to the column on the neighboring street.

I still remember those street columns. Residents of small wooden private houses in the district still used them. In winter, the column was covered with ice, this ice looked very seductive, and sometimes very stupid children tried to lick it. Or get someone to lick. The tongue immediately crumbled, and the friends of the victim went to the nearest house shouting: "Aunt Stephan! The tongue is frozen!” Aunt Stéphane with a whirlwind carried out a cupcake with warm water, heated on a fork, and released the unhappy man. One time is usually enough. Repeat this number, as a rule, nobody tried.

When I was a kid, swimming was like this. Near the stove (ah yes, I forgot, because there was still a stove, it was melted with coal and wood) a bath was placed on two chairs. Remember those galvanized baths? I saw it recently in Ikea. I did not feel any nostalgia.) The water was heated in a large pot on the plate, and then carried into the room, trying not to splash. The water was very hot - it was poured into a bath and diluted cold. Then it became a little hot, and the adults began to argue: "Cold the child!" “Nothing, let it go!”

Then they washed (the soap must get into the eyes), then washed out of the pot (the water was either too hot or too cold). If you turn to the oven with your back - cold stomach, and if the stomach - cold back.

In short, the pleasure was weak. It is clear that the children did not like this procedure. The little ones cried and resisted, and those who were a little older cried and cried as much as they could.
“What is this bath?” - Mother said sadly, "only dirt smelting, and all..." And the bathtub gradually became small.

So it’s time to actually wash. That is, to go to the bathroom.
........................................................................................

I went to the bathroom with my grandmother. I don’t like those journeys. Something must go wrong. In the dressing room, we are given a number with a hole on which the numbers are printed. The hole has sharp edges with spots - as if not to cut! (I will definitely cut off.) My grandmother gave me the number with the strictest order not to lose. (I am always losing everything.) I clamp it in my fist and think that if I were a kangaroo... it would be much more comfortable. This is the truth, where to put it?

The floor in the bath is soap and slippery. Adults scream at children all the time: "Don't stand here - they will be pushed!“Don’t go there – you’ll slip!“Don’t leave, stay next to me!” “Do not get confused under your feet!” (I don’t know how to combine it all) “Look under your feet!” “Look around, don’t scream!” “Don’t dare to sit on the bench! Few people were sitting there. You can get infected!” (Why put this bench here if you can’t sit on it?) Where is the number? I dropped him down, I think... Oh, here’s he. And indeed he fell. I looked at the scandal.

What a scandal? Always the same thing. A mother brought her little son. What is this, I ask? Little boys go to the bathroom with their mothers. (And in the summer on the beach, small children and all naked run - and it doesn't bother anyone.) But the women think that this little boy is already too big. I wonder how do they know?
“The insane!One of them said, “Let such a big guy go to a women’s bathroom.” “It is right!” Supports the other. “Let him go with my father!” “Nothing will be done to him!” I wonder if the boy’s mother is offended. “He will not defile you!” This, of course, is followed by a general outrage, whether actual or supposed, simply for order.

I sympathize with the “big guy” from the heart, and he, the poor man, tries to justify himself: “I can’t see anything, my mother washed my eyes!”

After all this, I don’t even notice when my grandmother tricks me to wash. We go out to the dressing room, and with relief I give my grandmother a wet room - not cut and not lost, fine! The F-Fuh! We dress - everything as usual: a dress, a coat, a coat, a towel, a hat ("so that the ears don't get cold") - well, finally! We go home.

In front of us, the mother leads the hand of the “big boy” who whispers, “Never again... only with daddy... everyone is fighting... I don’t want...”

But then... I, honestly, I’m not guilty that something happens after the bath. Not very lucky! For example, this is this:

My grandmother and I walk past the house, where some uncles just climb the roof - whether to repair this very roof, or remove it. From the roof suddenly rises a huge cluster of pigeons - apparently, the workers scared them. The noise of the wings, the wind, the dust, something drops on us... Grandma laughingly cries with her hands and cries, “Kish!“But the pigeons don’t listen to her.

I look at my grandmother. On her light coat the flowers are somewhat black-and-white, and on my black coat - white-and-grey...How did it happen?

Finally we come home, the grandmother somehow cleans my unhappy coat, and I relieved to run to play in the courtyard, listening to the mandatory instructions before this "do not stumble." At least until my mom comes back from work. "May she at least once see a clean child!" (It’s true, we both understand that it’s unlikely to work out, but the ritual is a ritual.)

The game is very interesting - in the courtyard are low wooden stalls, and someone comes to mind a brilliant idea to run on the roofs. It is easy to get there - near the barrel there is a barrel on which wood is rolled, and a reversed barrel.
One or two and we are on the roof. The view from there really opens up something quite different - and our courtyard, and the neighboring, and the street - but... unfortunately - the sharkers are old. Of course, as the lucky one, I fail inside. Fall not very high - the barrel is full of coal brought for the winter, and the coal is rolled almost to the top.

I hardly get upset and I don’t even have time to be scared. But when I get out through the hole in the roof, all the kids start laughing loudly. I wonder why...? Well, the coat is fine - it is black, nothing is visible on it. Here are my hands... yes, my hands are dirty... And something tells me that my grandmother won’t like my appearance. Even after all my friends, having finished laughing, friendlyly try to cut me off and clean up.

Mother will not see a clean child again.
........................................................................................

To my great joy, these journeys did not last long - only a couple of years. After some time, Mommy's friends moved to a new cooperative apartment, where - a miracle of miracles! There was a bathroom, and hot water flowed straight from the crane.

And a new epic called "Come to us to swim."
But it is a completely different story. For another time.

My grandchildren have already bathed. It is time for them to sleep.

How is the condition of Putin’s daughter after the vaccination?
I think everything is fine, as usual, it has grown!

XX: Yes, in general, the direct believers have us especially and not. According to official data, more than 2.5 million people attended the Christmas service in 2018. One of the most important services of the whole Orthodoxy. Less than 2% of the population.

YYY: That’s a lot for the 21st century.

XXX is very little. In individual games, the daily online is higher.

Yyy: Well the game is old, poorly supported, the last update was 2000 years ago, and the major events ended in the 15th century, and those were on a Catholic server.

What the coronavirus will not do, our government will do.

At the end of the nineties worked in our school as a teacher of primary classes Eva Arkadievna P. - a wonderful soulful man, a high-class professional, who was respected and loved by boys, girls, and their parents. It was then that Eve Arkadievna was already under sixty and if she stood up on the weights, then from the height of her height of 160 cm she saw the arrow rolling up next to the mark "130 kg". That, however, did not prevent her from remaining cheerful, fun and energetic.
Following the tradition, she said:
The lesson is over, I let my first-class students go for a change, I write the topic of the next lesson in a journal and I see one boy standing next to me instead of running with them all into the hallway. He wants to say something, but is embarrassed. I ask :
What is it about, Sasha? Did you understand something in the class?
He nodded his head, saying no.
Did you not have time to write your homework? Have you lost something? Something is hurt?
All by the way. I lay down my pen, look him in the eyes and smile encouragingly.
Why don’t you go for change? Please speak, I listen carefully.
“I just want to tell you,” said Sasha, “I like to learn from you. You are interested in teaching us, and you are good and... - pause, - and you...
He is confused again, turns his eyes away – and I understand that the boy wants to make me a compliment, but the strict childish conscience does not allow me to be called beautiful. I’m already opening my mouth to thank him and send him to play with my friends... but here ingenuity wins! With a smile, Sasha joyfully says:
You look like Winnie the Pooh!
Then for a few seconds he looked at me critically and reasonably added:
Only your legs are longer.

To prevent Rogozin from fleeing to the West, he is paid $670,000.
The head of NASA receives $250,000.
Question: Why does he, s#ka, not run from his NASA to us?

Xxx: Dating on Instagram is a stupid idea

YYY: Where is it possible? I seriously

Xxx: In the pool of course. And the figure is seen, and the cosmetic is washed.

Yyy: So there and my figure will be seen

I thought of myself as a good person until my child approached me with the question: "Will you get a cat for 8 million rubles?"

At the end of the nineties worked in our school as a teacher of primary classes Eva Arkadievna P. - a wonderful soulful man, a high-class professional, who was respected and loved by boys, girls, and their parents. It was then that Eve Arkadievna was already under sixty and if she stood up on the weights, then from the height of her height of 160 cm she saw the arrow rolling up next to the mark "130 kg". That, however, did not prevent her from remaining cheerful, fun and energetic.

Following the tradition, she said:

The lesson is over, I let my first-class students go for a change, I write the topic of the next lesson in a journal and I see one boy standing next to me instead of running with them all into the hallway. He wants to say something, but is embarrassed. I ask :

What is it about, Sasha? Did you understand something in the class?

He nodded his head, saying no.

Did you not have time to write your homework? Have you lost something? Something is hurt?

All by the way. I lay down my pen, look him in the eyes and smile encouragingly.

Why don’t you go for change? Please speak, I listen carefully.

“I just want to tell you,” said Sasha, “I like to learn from you. You are interested in teaching us, and you are good and... - pause, - and you...

He is confused again, turns his eyes away – and I understand that the boy wants to make me a compliment, but the strict childish conscience does not allow me to be called beautiful. I’m already opening my mouth to thank him and send him to play with my friends... but here ingenuity wins! With a smile, Sasha joyfully says:

You look like Winnie the Pooh!

Then for a few seconds he looked at me critically and reasonably added:

Only your legs are longer.

I remembered what happened to my classmates. We studied in class at 10 (the school was for gifted children, with a local university, it is to understand that not to be who studied there, but all adequate, normal schoolchildren). Two classmates went to school in a bus with the director of the school, and they did not give up their seat to him. At the time, the director of the years 45-50 was, seemed to be a man in the midst of his strength. But when the girls came to school, a scandal broke out. At first, they were summoned to report disrespect for an adult, and even more to the director. Then I asked the teacher of ethics. To which the teacher answered clearly that according to the rules of the label they were not obliged to give in. The director is not an old person and not a disabled person, but the fact that they did not take into account his status, so there is no word about this in the label.



In short, three days the school burl, and then the teacher was fired (

In ’96 he went on a trip with an Irishman to Nizhnevartovsk. His speech was peculiar. And I learned from the first day that I only understand him when I look him in the face.

For example, he stands at the laboratory table, processes the sample, talks to me. Suddenly something turns aside and I stop understanding it, entirely. As if the sound was turned off.

I bypass it so that to see it "in the phase" - understanding returns.

I’ve been around it all week. :)

I came to Moscow, the whole office is looking at me with an undisclosed interest, like "well how? ? to ? “ Then they split up, they told: before me a girl with a philological education (Romanian-German faculty, English specialization) worked as a translator, went on a business trip with this Irishman, came in hysteria: "I have a red diploma, but I do not love it! "

I can’t read on my lips, neither in my native language nor in a foreign language.

For every good with fist, you will find your evil with a lawyer.

Families gathered for the second child, told how they went to the nursery for the first time.
They live alone, young lovers. The caring husband very carefully gathered his wife to the hospital. All provided, and warm things, and hygiene, and about stock something collected, and to eat a young mother, things got a lot. The fighting began, the ambulance arrived, the husband pulls everything into the car, bags, bags, loaded under the bandage.
The doctor standing next to the car looks closely at it and says:
Will you take her back?

The crowd of dirty frostbite called the mayor of the participants of the rally, demanding in November to connect hot water and heating.