A friend told me.

Two Belarusians opened a business in Moscow. In banchers to work took, for the exotic, a student - Negro. The celebration. The hosts gathered their friends, covered the table (in the bathroom) - rest.

What do you do, Black, in Moscow?

I am studying for a doctor.

X: So you’re going to go to your Africa, what are you going to do? Opening a clinic?

H is her. I decided I was bathing.

Q: Do you think there will be demand?

Q: I think not. But, for that, I will take a job as a Belarusian banker, I will bump with my friends, ask him stupid questions and roast him.

Yes, but two different pizzas are better than one but more.

Yyy: Well, for example, Dodo pizza has a service for collecting the first pizza from different halves. It’s extremely convenient, especially when your second half doesn’t like seafood, pizza with pineapples, spicy, too fatty, “what’s only cheese?” and the other.

Zzz: Well, people with bipolarity are not so many.

I have a few stories about how the boys came to me. One of them still warms my soul. I was about 28 years old, then.



I have a motorcycle, and I ride it. Once after work, I decided to go to the toilet and buy home for dinner something in maca. I take off the helmet, and the boy runs to me and begins enthusiastically:

You have such a great motorcycle! Is it Honda? I have a PC, but it’s broken. Let me fix it and we will ride together?

Boy, how old are you?

16... So, I’ll fix it, let’s ride? ? to

I don’t like to ride with someone, I’m alone.

I went to buy a burger. I go back to the motic, and there on the envelope a paper with my phone and name, Denis.

Denis, know, I kept that paper. It warms my heart. And if I don’t give god I’ll remain a 40-year-old aunt with a bunch of cats, I’ll still call you and we’ll ride. You just fix your own.

Is white the color? The color. Black is the color. The clothes are colored.

yyy: Slowly put the washing powder on the floor and leave the washing machine.

One day I had to visit the Museum of Modern Art "Erarta" (SPb). It was so interesting that I decided to publish a book of reviews. The most memorable phrase was written by a crude child's handwriting:

“Tell me, why do you paint so badly?”

The children! I am so old that:



1st As a child, he wore socks under his shorts. Collies appeared a little later.

2nd My peers learned to write with pens. Our class was experimental, the first in the city to be allowed to write with balls.

Three When I was born, there was no vase. When I went to school, there was no. There were three brands of cars: Zaporozhye, Moscow and Volga. My dad bought the first Jiguli when I was already a pioneer.

4 is He collected marks with astronauts in live streaming as flights and marks came out. Not from Gagarin, of course, but about from the Coast. He cried when the Soyuz-11 crashed. Volunteer, Wolves and Patsayev

5 is The heroes of political anecdotes were not Putin and Trump and not even Gorbachev and Reagan, but Brezhnev and Nixon. The toilet in the pioneer camp was a white house, and instead of “go swallow” we said “call Nixon.”

6 is I didn’t scream on Alice Selezneva. When “Guest from the Future” came out, I was already an adult married man. Instead of Alice, we had Xanka from The Untouchable Avengers.

7 is As a child, I listened to gram plates and I remember the difference between the ordinary at 78 spins and the long-playing at 33. The first magnetophone appeared when I was already a student.

8 is On the first film Vysotsky, which I heard to the hole, there were no songs "Dialogue at the TV" and "Dear Transmission" - he has not written them yet.

9 is I remember not only discs, but also perforators and perforators. And even perfocards for 45 columns, with round holes.

What times have come – you sit in a telegram, you write a tape, you see a group with Stalin on an avatar – you open, and there – a forum of currency speculators.

On a warm day I went to the garden. On the way, I bought pears in the store. worked a little. I decided to eat one. While eating, Petrovich came out of the neighboring house. I know that three days ago he had a birthday. Several neighbors were “wrapping” with him. Probably not one day...
Looking around me with an awkward look, I noticed a pear. He swallowed and looked at a couple of his pear trees.
I decided to start the conversation:
Drop it, that is all. They flower! And I point with my hand, in which the bite of pear is pressed, to the tree.
Petrovich for some reason frightened, and in his eyes began to tremble. Again I looked at my pear, looked at my pear trees. And with a loud voice he asked:
What is the month?

Vladimir Soloviev posted on Instagram his photo in a mask. The first comment under the photo: "You are doing this with your mouth closed."

By the way, in films about the Wild West, robbers usually approached the entrance to the bank, looked around, put on masks and entered the bank.

Now before the "Five" I see the same shit)) Not the life, but the hero western!)))

At the time when there was no quarantine, there was a funny case. I live near the general school and on the way to work I meet crowds of schoolchildren. Going out of the house at the same time, I meet the same students. And here one day I heard one little girl 7-8 years old say to another: "Look, you see this uncle (pointing me), if on the way to school I meet him, then I am not late for the first lesson."

The journey is my purpose in this life.

Senior Developer: Where did you get that part of the code?

Developed by: StackOverflow

Senior Developer: Answers or Questions?

XX: It really depends on the company. In this case, the spectators are already warm and even on not very funny jokes they can laugh. I have seen this often on the stands. As I said before, it depends on the company. I even conducted experiments, joked one and more joke in different companies, and somewhere they laughed, and somewhere I felt stupid.)

YYY: Where you feel stupid, you just say, “Torture, it was an experimental joke, I just watched your reaction.” You get a notebook and typically record something, whispering: "The joke #47 is not ready yet. Check with another control group. You are all beautiful :)

Documentation is like sex: when it’s good it’s very, very good, and when it’s bad it’s better than nothing.

xxx: And I had a spark in the rooster, which is not a plug. The logic was this: the ends of the rod two, the hole in the socket also two. It is ideal. There was a cousin, one year older. I seemed to try to answer, but the desire to see how I was distracted appeared to be stronger.

YYY: Is it disruptive?

XX: Yes, I am now a gyrobas. But it’s not because of that case.

I remembered a childhood case.

Summer, evening, lively courtyard of a multi-storey house.

A few girlfriends come back from a neighboring store with ice cream, alone. At this time, the grandmother of this girl goes out on the balcony to hang up things. The grandmother notices this company and cries out to the girl, which is called "to the whole yard."

Did the girls buy ice cream?

Yes my grandmother!

Why did you not come home? I would ask for money.

Bab and why? I’t give it anyway :(



Grandma quietly walked away into the apartment.

A film is a sequence of murders with bed scenes.

Preventive

When I was a child I lived in a small remote town, it was the end of the 90s, the beginning of the 00s. To understand approximately: life in the town lagged about 10 years behind the Moscow region and other central regions. That is, when in Moscow all these banditic stories ended and all the bandits moved into business/politics, we all dreamed of becoming bandits. Why work in a factory if you can cover the kiosks, do nothing and get twice as many workers? Only bad guys work, I’m not. I will not work in my life. I, of course, like all my surroundings, also wanted to get into this middle and "rise up" on it.

But one day during the summer holidays, he got into the police. Nothing serious, just a small hooliganism. I was lucky to meet a good policeman. He was calm, like a tank, communicated with me very politely and seemed to understand me. This, of course, psychologically put himself on my side, actually putting me on my own. I don't remember exactly what he was saying or how it happened before, but at some point he offered to show me the camera. Of course, I agreed, but it is interesting to see where I will find myself sooner or later and spend a part of my life!

It was lonely. There were no detainees there, nobody told me anything, I was just thrown inside the cameras, and this policeman stood outside, not even closing the door. I stood inside this chamber: fucking dirty; it smelled so that I couldn’t describe it with words. Size 1 * 3 meters. Half a meter wide occupied the shell (a iron rectangle with two old boards on it, but in general you could put 3 or even 4 boards, but probably one was broken, and who would put the third there? He was there with two half-glandles. Right behind it is a hole in the floor for understandable purposes. The walls, the floor, the ceiling are all black. 20 * 20 cm approximately, never washed, and even behind two rows of grids, that is, there is almost no light. There is also no electric light, only from the corridor, if you open the door. I used to the dark for a few minutes.

The following year I worked as an assistant worker all summer and was wildly delighted with small but honestly earned money. Changed the surroundings. The view of life has changed a lot.

The EU countries have rejected Nord Stream 2. But the tube did not go wrong. We’ll scream at her that they’re all pirates.

Well, in general, such a piss in life always happens unexpectedly. I have been working as a coach for about 7 years and I have one regular client. Which I’ve been doing for 5 years, probably. A beautiful social girl, in the presence has a son and a wonderful husband. But from the beginning she was somewhat hyperactive in communicating with me. What’s on training, what’s outside. When I flew anywhere to study or on vacation, I always wrote how I was doing, how I flew and if I ate. That kind of hype always seemed strange to me. But I tried not to give up this importance and worked with her further.)

Then one beautiful summer day, a year ago. I come home and I get a photo of her in the chat. It depicts a little girl, a woman and my young father. The VTF. I ask her in the most incomprehensible words “who is this and why is my father in the photo” and she writes to me that a little girl is her, a woman is her Mom, and my dad is her Dad. And here I just walked. In a complete misunderstanding of the situation, I call my father and ask what the universe is, and he answers, “Yes, it’s your sister, but it’s not your business. for the time being.”

Cool is simple. Everyone knew about my sister’s existence except me and my mother. Well, and she decided to tell it five years later. Malakhov is resting.