Did you hear that I am a secretary? So, yesterday came the matter to an interview with the wife of the type I was supposed to be a secretary to.

Myrtle : and?

Irischa: She looked at me and said that this is the secretary and should have her husband.

Iris: What do you think she meant?

In the forum about piercing:
XXX: Hello to everyone!
Interested in this thing: here the tattoos have a meaning (in most at least), is there any special meaning in the piercing? That is, maybe someone knows from ancient cultures or somewhere else, what a hole in a particular place means?
yyy: The hole between the legs means belonging to the female sex

I began to write a diploma, not to be distracted by the benefits of civilization, I went to my parents in the village where the mobile phone in bad weather network does not catch, all would be anything but, the neighbor's guy suggested to set up a lock-up, I'm in the counter, I sit in a lock-up with admin rights.....and its broadband satellite internet)))))

You still miss the times when men were real men and they wrote device drivers themselves. — Linus Torvalds

A difficult childhood.
The wooden toys.
In the hidden folder.

Angelina Jolie also has a terrible photo in her passport.

The essence of the game is that the host asks questions and the players must answer them.So the topic of questions "Tanks" the price of the question is 300 rubles:
In computer and role-playing games there is such a character who takes on all the strikes of the enemy, thus protecting the group.
The players shook and here is the timid voice of the leading player:
Could it be a boat mechanic?

xxx: People, is it a mental disorder if I think all the time about bringing something banned into the plane or bypassing the video surveillance system in the store?
This is Russian mentality.

((((: I woke up when I discovered that my lighter was turned off, which I once hid under the branches and leaves, between the trees, in a cane, about in the middle of the field...

We sit in three with Kents, one so multi-significant:
Tomorrow my wife is coming from a business trip.
The second: the wife will come, the fuck will bring...

Why is Matan easier?
YYY: What is what?
XXX: Relationships between people
Yyy: Because Matan was invented by those who had no relationship with people.

Don’t fix me, I’m not a coward.

by Kevin

Belka: Well you know, I am a master of sport in handball.
Yesterday I fed the frog and the frog came out and cried.
Belka: Well, in general, I hit her with three goals with bread exactly in her mouth.
White: I was funny.
The frog also laughed.

How to call a car a motor

We had a teacher at the university (and maybe there is now).
First class, acquaintance with students: "My name is Chestnut. What I wish you"
Wonderful, I have to say, a man.)

Cabbage cheese is the best cheese among cabbages!

by H2SO4
This lady had a joke about her life. A guy called her a day later with the question "Can Masha?", "Can Katya?" and so on. Then I asked "What is your name, fucking?and "

by H2SO4
It is called power. Authorized by e.

No one has said “It’s just a game” when his team won.

I read yesterday on http://newslab.ru news under the headline. In Abakan will be tried by a conductor who forced a passenger to jump out of the train. by :

In Abakan will be tried by a conductor who forced a passenger to jump out of a wagon of a moving train. The West Siberian Investigative Administration on Transport has completed the investigation of a criminal case against the driver of passenger cars at the depot of the railway station Abakan Irina Zybtseva. He is accused of committing the crime provided for. 1 st. 238 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation (provision of services that do not meet security requirements).

After reading the name of the conductor, I suddenly laughed, because it is with this conductor that the story that happened to us in the summer of 2008 when we returned from Minusinsk to Krasnoyarsk is connected.

I wanted to write this story here for a long time, but it was somewhat lazy. It’s also lazy, but it’s very funny.

So, we returned home from the holiday base on the lake Little Kyzykul.
The route was as follows: from the rest base we went by taxi to the Minsk Railway Station
From there by train to Krasnoyarsk.

We didn’t have train tickets, because we didn’t know in advance when we wanted to leave the base. However, in the reference we were assured that there are always tickets for the evening train and there is a practice to buy them directly before landing at the station box office.

And here we arrived at the station at 20.10 (the train arrives at the Minsk station at 20.30, stands for two minutes and touches further). I find the box and I see a blind window and an A4 attached to which the pen is accumulated:

The box does not work.

I think there is another box somewhere. It turned out not. And it also turned out that it is not possible to find any of the railway workers or officials at the station.
There were also twenty people, like us, of an average degree of indignation.

In light of the fact that this station is not even in Minusinsk, but in a deserted place, and the train will stop for only two minutes, I was seriously concerned. We started looking at stands with information for passengers. On one of them was indicated the phone of the hot line of the Yenisei Directorate of passenger transport.

I called this phone and described the situation: there were people at the station, who expected to leave Krasnoyarsk by the evening train, which arrives in 10 minutes, but there is no possibility to buy tickets for it, because the A4 sheet on the box hangs.

The woman in the hotline asked in detail where it was all happening, my name and phone number, and promised to call back before the train arrived.
Re-called and that they contacted the train, the head of the train is warned that it is necessary in Minusinsk to take the ticket-free people from the perron and issue them tickets already in the train. In general, he says, apologize for this and don’t worry, it’s okay, you’ll all leave.

I told those waiting for the train the approximate content of the telephone conversation.

The train arrived. The door of one of the wagons opened, a conductor advanced, saw a group of people running in with their bags, made big eyes and said:

and. Where did you all come from? Without a ticket, right? No, I have no place for you. We are already leaving.

He started closing the door again. There was a loud unhappy rage, and so on, in the spirit: and you must take us, what is this!

Somehow we (all who wanted to leave) were put on the train, saying: no one warned us about anything, we know nothing, we took you purely out of kindness, we will be happy to deal with you.

The head of the train was drawn, whispering "what should I do with you all," told our family to follow her, took us to some other wagon and instructed the local conductor.

The conductor seated us and said:

Well, let’s get along. Are you going to Krasnoyarsk? How much does a ticket to Krasnoyarsk cost?

I answered:

- You know, I don't remember exactly, like 602 rubles and a few copies, I'll remember how many copies...

- Let it be 600 rubles, - interrupted me the conductor. Two adults, one child is free. It is 1200 rubles.

I was a little discouraged by the conductor’s indulgence regarding the price of the tickets, but gave her 1,200 rubles, which she put in the load pocket, after which she gently said the following:

- Oh, you are my rabbits... This is bad that you are with a child: if there is a revision, then you, adults, can be hidden in the toilet and you will sit there quietly, and the child is harder to hide. Let’s come up with something. There would be no audit.

I am surprised:

What do you mean by “rabbits”? I just paid for your tickets, why do we hide in the toilet? When will you give us tickets?

The conductor reacts in this way:

Oh, you are like... Yes, I took you to my car for the sake of Christ, and you are out like!
Well...I’ll put you out like rabbits at the next station, which will be in 15 minutes!

I, realizing that I had just fraudulently hijacked 1200 rubles, demanded that they be returned. Somewhat mixed up, the conductor pulled out the bills and gave them to me, badly said something like "your own fault, I will plant you now" and left.

We think the events are unfolding. They will start to land us at night at some unknown station. In which you may not even spend the night, for example.

I call the hotline again and describe how we got on the train and threatened to get out of it in 15 minutes for not agreeing to hide from the toilet. There the aunt is surprised by all this (I don’t know, frankly or not). and says:

Please tell me the name of the driver in which you are travelling. I can find out myself, but it will be faster if you tell me.

Where can I find her? I ask you.

Ask the conductor about this. I will wait on the line.

And here's just returning the conductor that threatens us to disembark.
I tell her:

Please tell me the name of the driver.

Why is this for you? Here is more. I am not obliged to tell you anything like that, a few hamsky responds the conductor.

I say in the phone:

The driver refuses to tell me the name of the train manager.
He says he is not obliged.

Seeing that I am broadcasting in real time coming to the phone, the conductor begins to noticeably worry, turns out the eyes, is going to say something.
The hot line cries:

They’ve run out there, right? “It’s not obligatory!” Tell me the name of the conductor. Who doesn’t say the name of the train manager. It should be written on the badge.

I answer, I approach the conductor and look at the badge.
The conductor, seeing this, suddenly begins to run away from me. She, of course, escapes from me by the wagon passage and hides at her in the conductor room, but I go there in her footsteps and still read the name: Zybtseva.
I report on the phone:

The name of the conductor.

I go back to Nadia and Sasha. Here, on the contrary, Zybceva herself begins to follow me and shout:

Who did you talk to on the phone? Who allowed you to tell me my name?! to

I put Zybtsev into the course of the matter. The hotline, the phone is indicated everywhere, here on the wall, for example, next to you. The conductor left and soon returned with an A4 printed sheet, spread it out to me and said:

Write up here. Just sign up below.

I started reading what she wanted me to sign up for. There was an untrue version of what happened. The key phrase, after which I didn’t want to sign anything and became even more angry, was about this: “I didn’t take any money from the passengers.”

I say :

How can I sign under the fact that you didn’t take any money from me when you just took it?

But I gave them back to you.

So you write what you took and then returned.

I did not take any money from you.

This foolish argument did not last long because I said:

You know, I’m just a passenger who wants to buy tickets for the train he’s on. To sign under some lie and engage in such a way is incomprehensible in what I do not want, and to insult me is useless. And you’ll get bored, I’ll call the hotline again and tell you that I’m being forced to write under your lie.

Zybceva, stirring his lips, left. Now the train manager was drawn, very worried and nervous.

What happened to you here? She asked, expressing the desire to listen and understand everything. Do you have a misunderstanding with the manager?

It is a misunderstanding, I say. I thought they would give us tickets in exchange for the corresponding amount of money I gave her. We were rabbits, and we remain. I would rather be a rabbit for free.

What money? She said there was no money! But don't worry, we will make your tickets right now, we will do everything as appropriate!

Then the head of the train, lowering the voice, said:

Can you ask who you are calling? Did you call someone? Why did you call? Why didn’t you contact me immediately?

Fucking, the picture was epic - a railway worker sits on the backdrop of a bright, life-affirming advertisement attached to the wall of a hot line (in general, all the wagons were glued by it), in which the phone is written in huge numbers, and scaredly asks:

Where did you get that phone? Who did you call?

Zybtseva appeared again, and they both began to urge me to put a signature on a false paper. The signature is not worth anything, but for this I would have to break my principle of minimizing lies, which I do and so do not like, and even more so as to calm down and stop crying the aunt, who half an hour ago terribly threatened to throw us out of the train with a three-year-old child into the night steppe.

Among the arguments in favor of my signature was, for example, this: Zybtseva has a minor daughter, and if I do not sign the paper, Zybtseva will be fired.
How will she feed her daughter?

Then they asked, “Why did you call?” Why did you call there?
What to do now? You don’t understand anything, you picked up and called, and we have this now, you don’t even imagine. Tomorrow we will arrive in Krasnoyarsk and immediately Zybtsev will be discussed and dismissed at the meeting. Sign this explanation!

and so on.

Meanwhile, we got our tickets, we took our seats (in another wagon) and started preparing for sleep. And then a new phenomenon began to be observed: all kinds of train workers began to walk past me, unwittingly stop and with tears in their voices loudly tell about how hard it is to live in the world of Zybtseva. And if I "do not go to meet," it will be even harder to live. And I am here, therefore, dispersed, unconscious, and I do not want to sign, it is worth nothing to me, and I still do not want to. Stay up. I have no conscience.
And all that.

After some time, the requirements changed: now they started to get stuck at least by calling "the same phone that you called" and saying that I have no claims to Zybtseva, such as, a misunderstanding occurred, forget.
I didn’t want to do that either, but the dull, embarrassing fermentation that prevented Nadia from sleeping with Sasha (I myself seemed to read something) was very tired, and I gave up:

I’ll call you, just stay away from me.

So Zybtseva and the train manager stood by and waited for me to call. I declare :

I will only call you if you leave.

How do we know if you really said that you have no complaints?! to

Okay, I can’t call at all.

They have gone. After a while, I called the hotline.
(But I have already known it):

This is Alexander, remember me. In general, I am not allowed to sleep here, the whole train team is winding around us and asking me to call you and say that I have no claims to Zybtseva. So let's let me sleep quietly here, let's consider that I called you and said: I have no claims to Zybtseva.

Ha ha ha ha! Well, okay, but in general you tell her that when you arrive in the
Krasnoyarsk will get it anyway. You can no longer influence it.

Actually, and all...

Looking at Gryzlov, you understand that in "United Russia" there are not only complete idiots, but also petty.