xxx: where do these people make the energy saved on unplugged turbines?

YYY: They spend on an accident when they are standing where they cannot.

The whole secret is in another. First, you put the girl on the stomach, start rubbing her. You can still use G & B oil, it is also how the lubricant works, but the lubricant you will not need because and so everything will be "at height".

You fold her shoulders, then slowly descend to the lower back, smoothly pass along, slightly returning to the shoulder, then again down. Then you gently press on her back so that your head is at the level of her head and you hear her quietly and gently grabbing, closing her eyes. You realize she’s fallen asleep, get up, sit down at the computer and turn on WoT.

In the country again increases street crime: unauthorized trips and walks.

The most famous physician in Russia, Petrovich Kashchenko, was considered a man unreliable and until 1917 was under the secret supervision of the police. During his student years, he organized a circus at the university, where he read outrageous literature about the fact that Russia can live without a tsar, for which he was expelled to Kazan. Then he wrote an article about the fact that Russia is very large, and the peasants have very little land, and sued for transparent hints to Nizhny Novgorod with a ban on practicing in St. Petersburg. Over the years of working in the Nizhny Novgorod province, Kashchenko became a world celebrity, and when the question arose, who would head the new Syvory Hospital in Gatchina for mental patients, even Nicholas II approved his candidacy. According to the legend, the emperor asked, “What can a man who sympathizes with the socialists help the mentally ill?”

Knowing that his contacts are monitored, and the correspondence is read intensively, Kashchenko eventually limited the circle of meetings, and the newspapers ceased to write out at all. Once in 1916, medical students came to the Sivoric Hospital, and one of them asked the question: "How can you not read newspapers at the height of war and political crisis?"
Kashchenko said the following:
I don’t need to read newspapers to know what’s going on in the world. My patients are my daily newspaper. Let's see, since the beginning of this year, seven "Rasputin" have entered our hospital, with one in spring and summer, and five since the beginning of autumn. From this I conclude that Rasputin’s influence is growing. I learned the biography of Rasputin from the stories of the sick in every detail, and since one crazy man worked as a courtier in the Tsarsky Selo, I now know more about the leisure of the royal family than the journalists. I also know better about the war than reporters: two officers were brought from the Austrian front: one was injured by reason during artillery shelling, the other - during the offensive. So, the second officer every day draws a map of the offensive with all the details – and all the villages he remembers, I looked at the map. And how many prisoners were taken, and how many weapons, and that due to the theft of the intendant the division did not have enough supplies. Then, gentlemen, we have not only medical bodies, but also our gardens, stalls, workshops, livestock yard – every day I sign invoices, by which I see how much the prices of goods have risen and how much more expensive we ourselves sell potatoes, calves and handicrafts. I can forecast you wholesale prices for any goods better than “Burse News”.
“But in the world there are not only news and stock exchanges,” said the student. I need to read something for the soul.
“Now I will show you what I have for my soul,” Kashchenko replied. Following the students along the corridor, he pointed to the door of the large chamber. Do you see, gentlemen? We have writers here. There is Gogol who claims to have hidden the second volume of Dead Souls in the basement, there is Leo Tolstoy. Very interesting people. But this one, who sits on the couch, straight like a rod, is the critic Chukovsky. He knows Evgeny Onegin and Homer, he quotes Chekhov without mistakes with entire pages. My friends and I often come to listen. With him, there is only one problem – he constantly requires paper and ink to “defeat Gorky and the helpless Chersk”. And when he gets a paper, he marries and marries for hours. He wipes out a hundred leaves with meaningless abominations, he wipes out in ink – and he sits content. One word is criticism.

We have 17 trillion rubles in cubic and 500 billion currency reserves! Why not give some of that money to people so that they have something to eat in isolation?
That money on a black day.
There is no black now!! to
This is for our black day, not yours.

When I was young, my grandparents lived in a village on the gold pit of the eastern part of our homeland. They were young when Cole appeared. He also worked on this search. When he saw his grandmother, he approached his grandfather and said:



“Genka, you can kill and beat me, but I fell in love with Alla. What you want to do, and know that," his grandfather then pulled him, then they sat down and drank all night. And in the morning...In general, Cole became a friend of our family. All family holidays are around, and I’ve always said, “I love her, I can’t! “”



But he did not do anything. He lived in a neighboring house, always helping with homework. My mother was my friend and taught her life. Like my grandfather.



After 17 years, my grandfather died. My grandmother burned and burned. Three years later, they moved together with Kolya and began to live together. On the other hand, Cole's uncle smoothed his cheeks at family evenings and said, "I've been waiting for my love for 17 years" - and looked at his grandmother with love. I was small and didn’t understand anything. Uncle Cole loved it.



After a while, my mother left with me, my father with us. He was a very walking man. My grandmother went to the store. He raised his hand on his mother even when she was pregnant. He soon left the family, and well. I have never paid any alimony, I have never participated in my life. My mother herself.



It was hard in the new city. There was no money for bread. My mom gets the money in 3 days, no one can borrow it. She was saddened by what was left at home. Whether it was from pain or anything else, I don’t remember. I remember that the little boy understood it. He never asked for toys or sweets. I saw a tired mother coming from work. I cooked her dinner when I was in the first class.



I cooked badly, I now understand. There was less tea. But my mom always kissed and said, “Thank you!” He ate with pleasure and looked at me with love. And I was happy. I wanted to grow up and help her. Make sure that there is no misfortune in her life.



Then a man appeared in her life. Not so... a man! I remember the 90s. He had a Mercedes 124, always slippery and shiny. Always dressed and crazy. I took my mother from work every day and brought her home. with sweets and fruits. My mother once said that she hadn’t eaten praise for a long time (sweetness so eastern). The next day he brought a whole container...and asked friends from Turkey to send it by plane. have sent.



There were 1000 such situations. Gradually we started living together, I always called him Uncle (name). He never pretended that I would call him a father. My upbringing was given to my mother, kept carefully and sometimes uncomfortable. But he taught me... male things - repair, care for a woman, the ability to hold a blow, fishing. It was a fucking healthy time.



When I was 14, my mother died. That...I’m not going to explain how much the world turned around at that moment. With our whole family. My father brought me up alone. It was hard, he was strict. But the best. He was my daddy.



Unable to withstand the death of my daughter, my grandmother begins to drink without stopping and in two years burns and dies too. I remember standing on their graves. They were buried together. I, Uncle Cole (I called him grandfather) and grandfather (father). We are strangers to each other. There was no one closer to us.



Many years have passed, his father has gray hair), his grandfather writes reports that he is still pulling up ten times...and says that he has no one closer to us. I am an adult and I have a beautiful wife.



My father remained a single. When I come to him, he says he loves my mother still, as on the first day of meeting. Grandpa is alone too. He said that after his grandmother, any woman for him was like plastic: “Allah, she was real. I waited for 17 years, and she has now to wait for me. Genka also wait, I didn’t hurt her!”



And I... As a young man, I concluded that blood bonds are nothing in this life. I was raised and raised by two strangers. My grandfather and dad. I still have not to deceive them.



Thank you, it looks more like a scratch. It was hard for me to write this because it was an intimate part of my life. Without tears, I can’t remember it. He wanted to speak. Love those around you!

A well-known programmer from the United States once told me. He may have written, but it seems to be true. At the time, he lived in Israel and worked in a small programming office. One day the shop owner asked the employees:

Does anyone speak German?

In response to the silence...

and OK. I redefine the question. Does anyone know anything in German? We have potential customers from Germany. They will be glad if someone from our company tells them something in German.

Here is a friend and said:

I know different German words.

Oh well tell me!

Hitler is a coat. The Führer. The stormfighter. The Zonderkommando. Hende to Hoh! The gas...

and stop! You are on holiday tomorrow!

I know a lot of German words.

Have you not heard? and you! and tomorrow! The weekend!

I ordered a gift from my husband in an online store. The next day the courier calls:

Can I specify your address? The navigator shows me that there is no body 1 at the address of Leninskiy Pr-t house N.

How not? Look more carefully. There is a Magnet shop in the house.

Okay, I will look for...

If so, the fifth parade. I wait.

Three minutes later he calls:

“Sorry, of course, but you said ‘parade’, and I thought... You’re probably in Peter? I am here in Moscow. Something was confused in the store.

Both are broken!

PS: Where is my order? Waiting for 4 days. My husband’s doctor has passed.

I decided to share a funny dialogue that took place between me (I), my aunt (T) and my wife (G).

And so, we came to visit the aunt and I decided to praise my wife before her mother:

I: And your daughter has made a very delicious soup.

Q: My daughter, what is the secret?

J: (distracted) Mom, it’s all simple, I just stopped cooking soup like you...

The silence, the curtain.

Even wondering, what does the boss expect, who has built a vertical of power under himself from obedient fools, to whom he calls for carefully thoughtful and responsible decisions?

When I went to the first class (it was 1988), my first teacher called all my parents to a meeting and promised, I want to emphasize OBLIGATIONS! Our parents during the year to organize a tour to our class at the place of work of each parent.

It was probably the brightest event in our first-class life!

We were in a factory for the manufacture of petroleum equipment, in the ice cream factory, riding a garbage car, regulating the movement of the car with the staff of the Gaia, sitting behind the An-24 (on the ground), firefighting with the firefighters two burned barrels from a fire truck, sewing clothes, and much more. It was cool!

- Surprisingly, but somehow it became self-evident that everything that the authorities do is presented as a feat. Olympics in Sochi, the world football championship, the Crimean bridge, the cosmodrome East...
But something is done without pathos and noise, everyday, from day to day?
and yes. They steal.

When I was about a year old, my mom and dad divorced. My mom got married very quickly, if not immediately, and my "father" became another uncle. No, my father, the real father, was always there. I wrote about it in the previous post, but not about it now.

I remember my mom “raised” me with a belt so that I would call my uncle “Papa.” This same uncle, by the way, was not the most cool or magical father of the dream, he did not try to earn my trust, with his mother, too, it was different. I remember when my mother asked him for loans for bread, up to his salary... for the same bread, which besides us, he will eat. He usually borrowed. When I was 4 years old, my brother was born, and my father-in-law, his father, treated him slightly better than me. If you take for the starting point “nik” in terms of relationships with me, to him it was “nik+/-”. He was not an alcoholic, although the holidays happened and I remember him drunk. Basically, he was riding a car, riding for fishing and hunting, working somewhere there, and again riding for fishing and hunting, repairing the car for these trips. After a while, my father still agreed with my mother about my move. My life changed in many ways, my father was the best, he was for me and my mom and dad, and also, my dad was my friend, the most real! I don’t know how many children can boast of being friends with their fathers, I could. My father had the principle “there will be questions, there will be answers” and I asked, a lot, often, sometimes not correctly. Dad, if there were quite “sweet” questions, asked for a moment to think, and then found the necessary and true answer. I came to my mom for a weekend, it was not especially before me, and then I youthful freedom. The one where the beer with the boys, the naked knees of the girl and the pressing of the one at the fire in the evenings. I felt permissible there. I remember my mom stuck me with a girlfriend in their bedroom with their father, on their bed... There was a scream, and the worst threat, according to my mom, was “I call your father.” It hardly frightened me, because Dad was adequate.

I always knew who my father was, and who my father was, as if my mother didn’t bother me. I’ve always seen the contrast between father and father. If my father brought me something as a gift, then my younger brother, the son of another man from a woman he loved, even in the past, always received a gift of equal value. I remember my father told me that he was my “born brother.” And it was my dad who laid down my attitude to my brother, now we "do not pour water." No sarcasm, I very much love and appreciate this abortus, taking care of him exactly as much as possible without compromising his independence and wealth.

My dad always talked to me, the only oplew I got from daddy was when at the age of 14 he came home "blue in the isolant." Everything is always resolved by communication. Father, on the contrary, a little boasted of the belt and poured his brother or twisted his ears, so that he stood up. He screamed for nothing and forever ticked his finger in his chest, indicating that he was feeding them. So it continued until I was 15 years old, at that time I had been boxing for almost 6 years, because tennis and basketball my father rejected for uselessness in case of something on the street. At some point, I gained courage or stupidity and stood as a shield between my brother and father. Having picked out the dog’s guide, with which he stretched his brother’s back, I argued that “this is not a method of education.” My father came, for the first time. Then such moments happened periodically, Father often repeated that I was preventing him from raising his son, but I did not dare to sweep, and not because I was a boxer, but because my father would come. Although there were clashes, and even once, this wonderful creature grabbed its rifle to shoot me the ugly smith, but it's a different story.

Time passed, I fell in love with an absolutely amazing woman, she lived in a different city. She worked in a large company in a very miserable, advanced position. I raised my daughter, who was 9 years old at the time. Is it worth saying that a 9-year-old daughter is not a year-old child? We started building bridges, I went through “mama sleep with me in this room”, “mama you kiss him more often”, “mama hold me by the hand, not him”... I remember what my father was, I remember what and how to do not... For almost 6 years as we are married, daughters have been 15. Am I a “father” for her? No is. She never called me that word, and I never asked for it. At the very beginning, I said that “Papa” is a high title, for the first I suggest her to be friends.

And now it is happening so:

Help me with the lessons, or my mom is always screaming and I don’t understand anything.

I need to talk to you, but my mom doesn’t know.

I love you...

You know, let me not be “Papa,” but I am a father. And unlike her father, I remember when she had her birthday, I know what she is fascinated with, which of the boys she likes. And I am proud. I’m proud that she plays my guitar, that she’s learning great, that I’ve never raised my hand on her, that we have something to talk about. I am proud that she is my daughter!

xxx: I was 17 years old and studied at a welding school. Practice in the factory in the summer. I liked a girl from a group of chefs/confettiers. I call her Natasha. Periodically on the changes we communicated and in the middle of the third course she somehow started to show too much activity. I went to the cinema, coffee and just went for a walk. We began to communicate very closely. Summer is coming and with it the end of school. Diplomas are received, the light of anticipation of the beginning of adult life burns in the eyes. The relationship began to develop quite rapidly. Dates on the roof, movies, hugs and kisses. September is coming and with it my birthday. Natasha slowly tells me what she will finally give me. I, almost eighteen-year-old sperm toxic, is just overwhelmed with joy and fear of further sex. I was a virgin at the time. Day X. I wake up from the phone call of my girlfriend. I grab the Benq button and listen to congratulations. Natasha tells me to come to her, where a desired gift awaits me. Forty minutes in the road seemed like an eternity, but here I am. Washed, filled and beautiful. She at that moment seemed to be just an unbelievable beauty angel in a short shirt, descending from heaven to deprive her of her virginity. My parents are not there, so I go to her room. I tremble, my heart beats, my head turns. Natasha asks me to lie down on a carelessly filled bed, which I do. She is in a wild slum, envious of Max Payne himself, slowly approaching and falling on me even more slowly. Incredible fire of the chest. The most gentle, like cat’s legs, touches and kisses begin. She whispered to my ear with a soft and almost whispering mosquito voice, so that I would not thumb and use at least my hand to her in the trousers. The indicator understood. I slowly move my hand from her chest to her excellent elastic ass. Both of my heads just explode. I pull my trousers off and gently try to touch the hole with my finger. does not come out. I feel like my head will explode now and I wake up suddenly. I’m at home, a blanket in sperm, I’m in sperm, cowards in sperm. Natasha is not.



YYY: I sit and read your comment. I’m at home, I’m in the sperm, I’m in the sperm, I’m a coward in the sperm. And yes, Natasha is not.

History and a little information.

City of Omsk. and Taxi. An order arrives from a stop, I get in and I see a no-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-known guy of twenty-five years old, who had to wait for the bus/route and decided to kick off, riding a taxi. But it is only in sight. Inside this guy lies a future billionaire. Let’s go in order.



I will clarify immediately. The average salary in the city is 32 thousand rubles. In fact, 20 to 25 thousand.



It all started with the fact that he walked to the back door of the car, opened it, and threw the bag with the laptop on the back seat, and himself sat forward.



For you to understand, I don’t really like to communicate with people, so I prefer to listen to music quietly while traveling, but this guy isn’t one of those. As soon as he sat down, his first phrase was:



The Yandex Knights!



As a cultural person, I ask him what happened. And it came here.



He: “I go into the Yandex app, I see the trip costs 240 rubles, I think it’s good, it’s expensive. Then I go to 2GIS, and there the comparison of prices for taxis and Yandex is already for 168 rubles, well, I called" (by the way, the trip was in the area of 12 kilometers for about 25 minutes. 168 rubles is great, right?) is



I say “understandably” hoping that this story will be the first and last of our trip, but it wasn’t here. A story from his face.



- Here I go with the pipe, hernia some for 18 thousand, bought for a couple of days, until my normal comes to me - I ordered a new phone for 45 thousand rubles - the most top siomi (I have no idea how it is written correctly), I wait for delivery. I generally earn about 250 thousand, so I have those 18 thousand. I repair computers, I go to calls from the office, right now from the call, I have food, the carpet was, the notepad broke, I repaired it, well, we talked, the tea drank, all the affairs, in general, went for 27 thousand, and there were affairs, just in a couple of hours, such affairs. I will open my office in a month and I will work for myself, there the income will naturally be greater, and so far we work 60 to 40. I am 22 years old, I already have 8 professions: I worked as an installor, and a programmer, and a pro-work, and websites wrote, and SEO was engaged in promotion, oh what I just did not do, but go at all.

And another case was: I went to the call, they say the router can't connect, well I went in and immediately understood what it was about, but decided to cut off the bug, in 10 minutes everything repaired and a half hour pretended that I was working, 10 thousand paid.

And I also have a passive income, about a hundred a month comes out, this is when I did websites - I did so that I was given away by the owners every month for 4 or 6 or 12 thousand, well, depending on how many bugs the company has, I broke everything. This is so that if something happens to the site, they called me, and I bat and did everything, like insurance. But the trick is that nothing can happen to the site, I wrote everything myself, every character, so for centuries all the sites are made, they are immortal. Woooot



I listened to all this mute and didn’t even have time to shake my head, because it all flowed out of it as a single endless monologue. By the end of the trip, he had already begun to tell how much he was fucking and on the way to each female he ticked his finger, saying, "Oh, look what a big ass."



In general, we went to the house, he got a wallet, there was 1000 rubles and a few hundred and a half, well, in the sum of not more than 1500 rubles. He gave me 200 rubles and said:

- Don't give up, I hate the little things, and so all the cuts are filled.



He took his laptop and walked out into the yard. I hope he’s pretty self-affirmed on my account, I’m not sorry.)

A taxi driver told a story about a real businessman. In general, a guy sat down to him, for an hour of travel took five incoming calls and managed to make several outgoing calls, and from different phones and was constantly presented with different names "Hello, this is Alexey" "Allo, yeah, this is Michael I listen to you", in the end, the taxi driver became curious, he asked - and how you are still called that, and that to him - and, yes, I just depict a company with a large staff of employees, so that they don't understand that I am alone in the company, I have a few consultants with different profiles on the company's website.

And why not?



Let us prohibit working in sociopolitical programs on TV to those who have dual citizenship, real estate abroad and accounts in foreign banks. Let us record this in the Constitution.



© Dmitry Sviridov

I met my husband by chance. We were stuck in the elevator. We stayed in a closed room for almost an hour. Why we couldn’t get pulled out of the regular elevator for so long – I still don’t understand.

I didn’t want to go into the elevator because I’m afraid of elevators and small closed spaces. I am a claustrophob!

At the fifth minute I felt bad. The pulse was so high that every heartbeat was given in the ears. I became difficult to breathe. The chest, like forging fur, expanded and shrunk. It was very bad. The man laid his jacket on the floor and took me by the ankles and sat on the jacket. I told you what was the cause of a panic attack. He turned, got something and gave me two pills. I swallowed them. The man said it’s a very strong sedative and I’ll feel better in a few minutes.

It really made me easier. I kept sitting on the floor. He also sat next to him and began to speak with a calm voice. I don’t remember what it was about, but a quiet, smooth voice acted reassuringly on me.

We sat and talked. When the door of the elevator opened, I was already completely okay. A man invited me to a cafe. And already in the cafe asked what this was for such a strong sedative. I wanted to buy it in case the panic would happen again. He smiled and gave me a box of mint tick. Aha, I helped two mint candies!

“We will not allow anyone to rewrite history.Deputies of the State Duma stated and postponed the date of the end of World War II.

Lesbians love to suck, but they don’t give them because they’re terrible... they’re angry.

yyy: Always pleased how the very fact of the existence of lesbians beats on male self-love :)

XXX is not hit. I really like lesbians :)

Yyy: In that case, I think you don’t really understand who lesbians are.

XXX: I understand it very well. I am a lesbian ;)

Yyy: Aaa... Do you also like to suck hives, but they don’t give it because it’s scary?