To the baby, who grew up, instead of Carlson began to fly Karlsberg!

You are clever, you are shit.

Australia, Taffford Bay, mid-19th century. It is one of the "transport bases" of blue whales and finvals, past the bay went then their regular route of nomads. Naturally, this location was loved by whales. But in the open sea, the whale easily left the ships, and long-range harpoon guns in humans had not yet. A rare fortune was a situation when the whale managed to drive directly into the bay - there the miserable giant was deprived of freedom of manoeuvre, and it could be quite easily captured. But the whale is not an idiot and will not go into the bay.

At the same time, the flocks of whales are followed by hungry and evil cats.

The whale loves the whale. She appreciates the whale. The whale is pure, she loves the whale. That’s the same meat for a poor dolphin. Cossacks can even attack a whale, gathered in a flock, and in principle catch it, but: this is a huge risk. A whale who feels close to death resists, like the devil himself, and part of the herd can die in an attack or seriously injured. And the Cossacks, even if they are the brutal killers of all living things in general, the super predators of the ocean, treat each other very gently and devoutly, and every death for them is a terrible drama and pain. They live for a long time, groups form on a family basis, in general - they are not interested in risking the precious lives of relatives.

And here it passes year after year. Sometimes people manage to drive a whale into the bay and kill it, sometimes a whale breaks out into the open sea and leaves. Sometimes the whale manages to stumble upon the whale and eat, sometimes the whale furiously disperses the whale gang and goes away again. And then this happens.

All the time, the cats watch people. At some point, they know what they need to do.

They are chasing whales into the bay. A bunch of whales throw on the whale and chase it from the sea into the bay; and when the whale, driven into the corner, decides to fight to the last - the whales immediately retreat. They allow people to act! Humans are not stupider than dolphins, they quickly understand what it is; and when they notice a lonely whale, which for some reason a wild zigzag approaches the bay, the whale bats immediately drop the velbots into the water. Directly around them in the water will jump squirrels, grinding their teeth; but people are not afraid of them, they know that they are allies and helpers. People kill the whale with harpoons and take a part of the carcass - and the rest are honestly left to swim in the water. Eat the dolphins! They deserve.

The next step is to take a closer look at human hunting and understand not only that humans can easily kill the most dangerous beast, but also how they do it. After that, these cattle wait until the first harpoons emerge in the whale. This is the most dangerous moment for humans: the wounded whale begins to throw, it has little to turn and break the velvet, it can still break out and go to die far into the sea, where the hell you will already pick up his body. What Do Dolphins Do? From each harpoon hangs a long thread with a float. And the squirrels begin to grab their teeth for these wires after hitting the harpoons, keeping the whale in place! The whale fighters told us that the leader of the herd, the matriarchate, began to jump out of the water, as if shouting, "Well, well, brake monkeys, let's go! We’re tanking, go in!”

This collaboration lasted at least a decade. Both sides were completely satisfied with each other. Probably, go through such a scarf for a few centuries more - and the cats would finally fit, they would shorten their mouth, appear a funny peach color, touching hanging ears and a tail ring, and they would begin to bring the whale fighters lost harpoons in their fists. But... here’s the way: big stripes are also smart. They looked at this wreath and the children of the cottage, said, "Sedna-mother, the whales are good, what is happening" - and left the shores of Taffford Bay forever, changing the centuries-old paths of their wreaths. People and chickens were overwhelmed, crushed with their heads, grabbed each other's hands with gratitude - and went in different directions to look for another luck.

But now tell me once again, my dear witnesses of the Church of Behaviorism, about the uniqueness and uniqueness of the phenomenon of human consciousness.

The singer Alsu threatened that in the event of cancellation of the results of the contest "Voice", she will buy the First Channel together with Ernst, Nagiev and other shellfish and sell it to Kolomoisky.

I’ll tell you a stunning story about how I was operated on my eggs under local anesthesia. Sit more comfortably. The cause of the operation was such a thing as hydrocele. It may appear for various reasons, in my case the consequence of injury (no, I was not hit by a modest girl who, I tried to rape, just the bicycle Ukraine, I think, was invented for the purpose of genocide of male teenagers). The thing is quite harmless, life does not interfere, but doctors recommended to remove it because Godzhenka did not think so. I was going to do this for a long time, because the words "egg" and "operation" in one sentence did not cause iris images in me. I came to the hospital, there a very cute but strict nurse of Light (she could have been beautiful if she had not smiled) identified me in the chamber to three grandparents, who three had 2 legs and one diaper. The dinner was meant to be. 20 minutes later another grandfather came without a leg and so on. I didn’t fit into this Infinity Club, the Light asked me to leave. I was assigned to a new chamber where there was only one inhabitant - the one-legged Sergei Petrovich. "Some new mainstream theme with the legs...we need to grind," I thought.After getting to know Sergei Petrovich closer, I learned that diabetes is not a new topic and not very mainstream. As soon as I arranged, the Light came (do not smile), injected me with something and asked me to dress up. Since I had an old grandfather’s sense of humor, I smiled cleverly and asked, “Why am I, I’m going to dress alone, beautiful?” Light answered me in a serious tone, "You know we are going to cut your eggs now?" I didn’t joke with the light. On a catalytic, covered with a lump, I was transported to the operating room, where I went to the table. At the operating table, my hands were tied to the cross like Jesus Christ, and I began to suspect that I might be suffering here. Further, catheters, injections, local anesthesia, the nurse asked to say when it will hurt. For Ukraine, my soul has been sick for a long time, but she had nothing to do before. The doctor came, a couple of questions, such as: how is it? How do you feel? We start?

We start.

Part of the impressive.

* It needs to be explained. The excitement of this story was that there was a section here where I described the operation in detail, but when I read it over, I thought it wasn’t very interesting to read about how the surgeon twisted the scrotum and burned his initials on it. Unless you’re crazy and it’s not your scrotum. Therefore... *

After 20 minutes of suffering:

They brought me to the room and moved me to bed. Eggs do not hurt, the whole body hurts from knees to shoulders. I lie down, I cuddle. Not funny anymore. Thirty minutes passed and the anesthesia began to release, and then I felt the Torah Hammer on my eggs. There was a slight discomfort before. Asked Sergey Petrovich to call the Light. I couldn’t call, I was busy. I knew the universe through pain. The light came and asked her to anesthetize me. Light, a good soul, put the dimedrol point and left. did not help. I asked for another injection. The light said there is not so much. I asked her to do something at least, she said, “I can dress up, you seem like you were interested an hour ago).” “Fuck, it’s funny,” I thought when I opened another chakra and the third eye from which came the tears, in which were concentrated all the pain and suffering of the universe since the beginning of times. One hour later they brought me something to eat, but all I asked for that day was general anesthesia. The doctor came, said that there will be edema, which will go away in 7-10 days. About the edema he said, but about the fact that my eggs will be blue-green and will resemble New Year's balls, he did not say.

There were two cousins in the same class. At the beginning of the next school year, the teacher gave a home assignment to write a piece on the theme: "How I spent the summer". Summer in the village, for rural children, where nothing interesting does not happen, does not contribute to the flight of thoughts on this topic. With this problem, one of the girls approached her mother, who explained that once they ask for a composition, you can write not what actually happened, but what you wanted to happen. Well, then the soul of the "writer" turned, stumbled and pointed out how she was travelling to the camp not the sea. The work was "very even" and the teacher decided to read it in the classroom. The second girl on the change then gave the first:

How could you! I went to the sea and didn’t even tell me. I have a sister too! It is also called a friend!

and swallowed. I did not talk for a week. The arguments that it was just a composition did not pass. As well as the fact that while living in the neighboring streets, they were very often visiting each other throughout the summer.

Yes, I fought with my head the other day. It is the first beginning!

The garbage thrown into the urn is much more patriotic than the tape on the car.

It is easy to be a patriot. You pulled the tape, and you are all a patriot! You can still "do the inscription on the BMW in Berlin", and bring a piece of garbage, and if there is no urn nearby, put it in the pocket and throw out later this work, daily work, it is more difficult than on 9 May to become a patriot for 1 hour or even a day.

Did you hear what the accused said?
“No, I was at the other end of the corridor, and he spoke quietly, almost whispering.
Why did you think the accused was disrespectful to the authorities?
- I explain, he spoke quietly, almost whispering, and then suddenly said loudly, "Here are goats!"
Why did you think he said this about the authorities?
And about whom else?! to

On the one hand, Russia has stood on the rails of import substitution, and on the other hand, it is abundantly lubricating them with palm oil.

I have one very famous acquaintance. Once she was walking with her six-year-old son and he hit his head on a playground. There was not even a clot on his head, but the acquaintance was afraid that he might have a brain shock. Even after she laid the child to sleep, from time to time she walked into his bedroom, woke his son and asked his name. When she went back to him again, she saw a sticker glued to his forehead. On the label label was written:
“My name is Artem.”

The deputies were beaten silently to avoid falling under the law on insulting the authority.

I love bananas – I think it’s even mutual.

I’m grown up and can buy it myself. But as a child, when I asked my parents to take them, I always heard two options in response.

In the spring:

At this price? ! to Better to take oranges and shrimp twice as much!

In the summer:

In winter, you should eat bananas. And now you need to take pears, apples, melons.

Morality: If parents don’t like bananas, they’re never on time.

He leaves the hospital and sits in the car. At Grandma’s stop:

Are you in town?

Yes Yes

Do you bring?

Sit down

Dialogue along the way:

Are you married?

– not

I will introduce you to my grandchildren. One truth is foolish...and the other nothing, in Ufa lives...

Strange thing, but many confuse an active civil position with a convenient place next to some satiate feeder.

All the opera plots are reduced to the fact that the tenor and soprano tend to sleep, and the baryton prevents them.
Bernard Shaw

I went to a shop with a friend to buy her new shoes.

The girlfriend is a thin natural blonde with long loose hair and very correct facial features.

She used shoes very peculiarly - put on her leg and froze. I didn’t go, I didn’t go, I just froze.

A second after ten “disappears” and says – she, I think, squeezes a little.

Some young aunt, passing by us, suddenly with a whispering "AAAAAAA" shakes away, almost sitting on the neighboring banquet, then loudly to us: "Tyfu you, I thought you were a mannequin."

I have one very famous acquaintance. Once she was walking with her six-year-old son and he hit his head on a playground. There was not even a clot on his head, but the acquaintance was afraid that he might have a brain shock. Even after she laid the child to sleep, from time to time she walked into his bedroom, woke his son and asked his name. When she went back to him again, she saw a sticker glued to his forehead. On the label label was written:

“My name is Artem.”

I waited for my wife near the TC and decided to go to the grocery store to buy home. I bought everything, but I can’t find the eggs. I see a man standing in sight like a shop worker, then my dialogue with him:



You have eggs.

The man thought a little and answered with a smile.

Yes, I have eggs. But I do not work here.



It wasn’t as clever to be honest :) but at the same time it was funny.

In the midst of the reconstruction, the Americans began to travel to us. At the time, the exhibition "Informatics in the life of the United States" was opened. The line went through the whole territory, it was necessary to stand for three or four hours. Not only were there real computers and live Americans, but they also gave a fresh issue of America magazine at the entrance and the most important thing! Plastic package with pepsicola advertising. At that time, it was valued hardly more than a Louis Whitton bag. I just entered the institute, there was a lot of time, so I was at this exhibition several times.

But I went there not so much for western goods, as to talk to a girl at one of the stands. Jennifer spoke Russian well, she previously practiced at the Pushkin Institute of Russian Language and Literature, which was near our community, she was alive, sociable, interested in Russian history and literature, and she was beautiful. So I spent most of my time next to her stand, along with a crowd of our fellow citizens. Sometimes time was not enough and in the evening, after the closing of the exhibition, we walked around the VDNH.

On the third or fourth day she had to leave for twenty minutes, and she asked to replace her by looking behind the stand.

She left, and the people continued to approach, looking at the exhibits and asking questions. And the questions in general were roughly the same and repeated regularly, the answers to most I already knew.

“What do you have here? »

I explained.

What is the average salary in America? »

“Two thousand dollars.” (I can’t remember the exact numbers)

What is the pension of Americans?

“1200 dollars.”

“What do you think of Solzhenitsyn?”

“He’s a good writer, but he has a very archaic language.”

Sometimes there were compliments: “How well you speak Russian!”

“It’s because my ancestors were from Russia.”

“Are you virtually ours? ! to »

“Well, I can probably say so.”

Some tried to speak English, but I immediately tried to stop such things: "You can ask in Russian, it is useful for me to practice."

And at least one doubted that it was not a real American who was talking to him, but a self-proclaimed man!

For some reason, nobody thought about the fact that the Russians who drive and the Russians who drive quickly are completely different people!