I meet with tourists at the hotel reception. I'm talking about safety: that in no case can you leave things unattended, up to the point that if you carry a bag through your shoulder, you need to hold it with your hand, as they can break off the passing motorcycle. I tell all kinds of stories about my acquaintances and other tourists so that people remember something and they are more attentive to their things, and I would have less to deal with statements to the police. At the end of the meeting, a tourist wants to buy excursions and asks me to wait until she goes for the money, saying:

I put my wallet on a beach bed so everyone knows the bed is busy.

And tell us, what share of the national income Moscow allocates to the regions?

When my friend went on a date with a guy from a dating site, she ordered me to call her in 15 minutes. If he doesn't like her and she wants to merge, then on my call she will answer and say that it's time, say, called urgently. I call her, she is cute, I think she liked it. After 20 minutes I was told in tears - he was called in 15 minutes and called somewhere urgently))

I did not understand again. Armenia, Azerbaijan and Turkey fought. Without tomatoes, we are left.

Xxx: When I just looked at the lists of those in our group, the proud and loud ‘Kolbasevich’ stood out very strongly from the standard names. It should not be said that on the first day of his studies, I expected to see most of all and looked at fellow students guessing who of them could bear such a mysterious surname.

The first call showed that no Kolbasevichs were present on the pairs.

The group we had was friendly, we celebrated any more or less significant event together and every time we did not forget to say a toast for Kolbasevich. In the pairs, the girls promised the teachers that they would definitely let him rewrite the notes, and I, as a senior officer, kept a record of their unsuccessful accounts and missed activities, and also included the dean with his consistent passes.

At the end of the year, we arranged for Kolbasevich to join the army and prepared to continue further training without him.

But in September, I saw his name as part of the group, not on the lists to be deducted. It was strange, but it was another year.

And another one.

and more.

The end of this story is quite sad: Kolbasevich received a diploma about the successful completion of our university with a fairly good average score.

We have never seen him like this, but I still have hope for the evening of meeting the graduates.

We have an interesting and big family. In the words of her husband’s mother:

I come home from work, my grandfather is sitting on the doorstep, something so appetizing. We sit next to you, we talk. And I’ll take it and ask why it’s so delicious?

“To cherry girls to see the children scattered, picked up, eat.”

The investigation found that the children tried to lure the cat on the street with a kit, and the whole path from the feed was laid out. The cat stayed in the house, and the grandfather also came in :)

My younger brother and I were and often ride the electric car home/to the city. And for children under 8 years old (type) had their own rates, older - as an adult.

And then one day we’re going to go home again and approach the ticket box. We ask for tickets, which the cashier asks us for age.

We looked around, thinking, “to break or not?” "But since they were well educated, they decided to name the real age.

We told the seller that we were 10 and 12 years old, respectively. The saleswoman laughed at it and said, “Is this where you were taught to lie?” I bought children’s tickets.

It was 15 years ago. My friend went on a date almost "blindly" (there was only one vague photo of the lady), asked me after half an hour to call him to decide whether to run away from the date or stay. I said “OK” and, in order to shorten the time, scored Quake 3: Arena.

Call in 2 hours. I raise the phone and I hear, “Well, you and Ssssuka...”

I work on the ship. We are in Turkey in Tekirdaag. Last day of discharge. And I see a cat going in the direction of our boiler and jumping onto the deck. No one paid special attention to it. We landed and already in the sea noticed that the cat was left with us. What to do with him. We decided at the nearest parking lot to call the boat and transfer it to the shore. There is no parking, there is no cat. We searched for the crew, but we couldn’t find it. I thought he jumped out of the boat. We go back and see the cat sitting on the tank. It was several times. There is no parking, no cat. As soon as the ship moves, it’s cute. Everyone is used to it, even the name has been given, Skipper. But here we came to Samara to load. Arrived at the marsh. There are a lot of pigeons and they eat grain. Cats that eat pigeons. I see Skipper from the boat jump and to the cats, more precisely to the white cat. We thought he would come back. So he stayed in Samaria. Botzman then said to me, "You see Sereg, how much Skipper overcame for love, according to the standards of the cat, half the world has passed with us, all for love. Could it so?“I did not answer him at the time. Only now I thought I could)

Once in the universe I had a lecturer, who did not conduct a full call of the group, but named only the names of a few random students.

One day, on a pair, he starts a call, calls the first student's surname - no one, then the second - also not, then the third - again not.

There was a silence in the audience and a voice from the group: "Triple".

We are ordered to keep cold, but we are alive.

When I was a student, I rented an apartment in Kemerovo. My parents held all kinds of livelihoods in the village and from time to time gave me any provisions so that the child would not die of hunger. Once in the late autumn after another trip to the historic homeland, mommy, accompanying me to the city, says: "Soon we will be pigs, I, like a slaughter, will send you a telegram, so that you come for fresh food." Well, okay... In two weeks I sit at home, I drink tea with one-touchers. The call. I open the door - and there is a postman (a thick aunt of Motya) and with a frightening and mysterious voice says to me: "You have a telegram... sign up." I signed up. She stands and does not leave. “Something else?” I ask. “Yes no,” he replies. No, no is not so. I closed the door and read, “The seventh. Come to. “Mom.” Friends, when they read it, fell into a precipice.

So far no one can explain why Russia’s enemies are always those who have tomatoes, fruits, parmesan and chamomile, and Russia’s friends are always those who have nothing to eat.

The case occurred in Moscow in 2002. I am 23 years old. So, I got sick with the flu, I was sick for 2 weeks, then went to work. After 2 days again the fever, the head hurt heavily, the back. The next day, the temperature dropped to 37, 5, but there was a crazy headache and vomiting. I went to the district, the ambulance came 2 times, everyone looked closely, squeezed anesthetic, anesthetic and said - complications after the flu, for some reason no one offered to the hospital, the figure knows, maybe because the temperature was not high. 2 days have passed, I am getting worse, almost straight to glucose. Mother calls an ambulance again, the brigade comes, well honestly, whether it is from a good body, or if it is already subjects. The doctor said so aside, trying not to breathe on us, but amber on the whole room. And here this doctor looks at me for 2 minutes and says not very sober: she has meningitis, immediately to the hospital. Diagnosis: purulent meningitis, in the hospital said a few more hours and it's all. Droplets, dozens of injections, there was no living place at the fifth point. 3 weeks in the hospital, then the sanatorium. It has been recovering for a long time, but it all went without consequences.

That brigade saved my life.

Xxx: During sex I’m usually on top. The floor above.

Motherland, country and state are born at the same time, but are raised in different families.

My father for the mushrooms.

A friend once told me how they and a friend stumbled in the woods on a white barrel.
The baskets were already full, so the place was remembered, marked on the navigator. And went further home.
The next day they came back – they can’t find this pollen. The navigator indicates that they are in place. Everyone was around – there was no one.

My dad and I had the opposite.

He loved the forest very much. He has led me for mushrooms since my very youth. And the phrase “silent hunting” I heard from him for the first time.
If we were going somewhere far away and for a long time, he was wearing a kirzachi. I bought my first shoes when I was 4-5 years old.

By the way. - an interesting nuance of the era of the early sixties - in the store sold children's boots. And bought them.
I remember my pleasure when I tightly wrapped my booty, wrapped my foot in my boots, and slightly sinked, to feel that my foot in the booty is like poured.

I remember that my father and I often drove the 33rd kilometre. This road is called the A-108.

They came on the track, caught the trunk... The father said to the driver, “Thirty-third...”

They came out of the high cabin of the truck, crossed the road... There was a breeze hole. My father cut off the stick for me and for himself, he must have found a white on that stick, and we went deep into the forest.

Once there was no white on that shovel. My father chewed her over and over again. I started asking, “Dad! Let’s go further!”
He said, “The weather. I always take the first white from here...” But then he found a spoon of a newly cut white mushroom, and calmed himself: “Look, he was waiting for us, and we were late.” Let us go further.

At one time or another, we will walk with him somewhere in the woods. They went deeper, the roads are almost no longer heard. I went ahead of him when I heard from behind, “What did you go past the mushrooms?” I look around, he points to the pads with a stick. Large, next to him - a little smaller, and quite small - fifteen centimeters from them.
He leaned with a knife to the mushrooms – he never broke them, only cut them. He says, "This small... and to leave it for nothing - will dry when the big cut, and to take away why this little thing."

I said, “Dad! Look, these mushrooms are like mom, dad and son. Let it grow and let it grow.”
The father again explained that the fungus was one, and when he cut these mushrooms, it would stop growing. I did not agree. Dad was a little angry that I didn’t believe him, and said, “Look, we’ll come here after tomorrow – you’ll see!”
I looked around, the same forest. I say, “How do we find this place?” the father smiled, “This is a forest. How can you get lost here?He approached the ass, and made a knife at the eye level half the size of my palm.

And here we wander through this forest again, I have forgotten about that mushroom for the past two days, again ahead of my father, and suddenly hear from behind: "Look, you see! I told you...” He points with a stick to the dried dry mushroom. I’m looking for pins from those he cut around yesterday, and I don’t find them. I say, “This is exactly the place?” the father answers, “Of course...” And here I was surprised. He lifts up his eyes, turns his head, and looks for an ass and a snare on it. He finds and shows me.

That is to say, deep in the forest, which seemed to me quite monotonous, he easily recognised the smallest cane, found that tiny mushroom in this grass, and it turns out that the hose was even superfluous for him.

He died when I was seven.

I love to go for mushrooms, but I rarely go out, and I find few.

On the photo, I am 2 years and 11 months old. He photographed him.

Childhood ends at the moment when you stop fearing to donate blood for analysis and start to fear its results.

I had once. I press the computer button and immediately a terrible whisper, knock and crush and crack. I am accustomed to computer breakdowns, but my legs were pulled up so that my legs would not break away from the disc that had broken. I just perceived so. That it was Winchester that started and flew away. Or the SD. It turned out that exactly at the moment when I pressed the switch button, someone behind the wall started drilling something, it seemed. A few seconds came to himself.

There have been several times in my memory when I was accepted not for who I am.

A couple of times I passed by the mom with the capricious child, who got hysterical, and they, calming the child, pointed to me with a finger and said, "stop, or that uncle will steal you." What is most interesting, it helped - the child, raising his head from the ground and looking with his rotting eyes, for a while smiled and scanned me from foot to head: the truth will steal or not. As if he was not a Gypsy, he did not want to steal anyone.



A couple of times the bombs approached, asked how to go to the store or to the pebble. The last such incident was last weekend.

I go, I do not touch anyone, people in front and behind me, who go where, the movement is lively. Suddenly I see a bomb moving. Compared to me for some reason, he stops and says, “Brother, where is the beer shop here?” I answer that he needs to go straight, on the first light on the right, and there he will rise straight into him. “Direct to him?He almost shouted joyfully. “Right in him,” I answered. "Oh, thank you, brother," says the bomb and joyfully goes to meet the adventures. And I go, and in my head revolves “brother, brother.” Even looking at himself: maybe the jacket in dirt, or broken-no, everything is okay.



There was a recent case.

I went to a friend for a visit. I approach the entrance at the agreed time, I stand, write a text message to a friend: I came. My friend says it will come out now. I am at the door, waiting. Here, a woman approaches the entrance with bags, puts them on the asphalt and depicts a pause. He stands and looks at me. I am not attentive, I stand, I wait. Two minutes passed, and it was cold on the street, I was still walking for twenty minutes, frozen. I think I think I’m getting hot. I walked away from the door, slowly so along the house I walk, my feet snoop. I went from the door to the neighboring entrance, I turned, I went back and I saw a woman picking up the bags, approaching the door and quickly closing it behind her. I approach the door and immediately comes out with the words: "On the stairs I met the older woman in the house, she said that on the street some addict is trembling, so that I don't think about letting him in the entrance, I immediately realized that it was you" and cried. On the one hand, I laugh, and on the other, I want to cry.

Is that what is wrong with me?

It is unfortunate though)