I went to Feodosia on a road. I go in, standing next to the driver, holding on to the order. A cute girl comes in. She doesn't have time to get in the route touches, the girl, not holding back, falls all her chest on me. Blowing red and apologizing, she left. She doesn’t have time to get up, the router runs again, the girl falls on me again.
I: Girl, after that you just have to marry me.

The paradox. You should lie to an ordinary person once or twice and you probably won’t trust him anymore. And politicians lie for decades, promising the same thing, and they believe them. is surprising.

The seeds of hatred flow with blood.

Once I was in the subway, in front of it is a girl sitting, in glasses, all so careful, reading a book, you can see immediately - the intelligence. You probably don’t even know what a divorce key is.

The grandfather comes in, the doors are closed, he stands over her for a while, then pins her on her foot with a dirty shoe, and scratches almost the whole car:

If I had respect for someone who is older than you, I would have given up.

The girl looks at him frightened, finally comes back and rises up. Then he said to him:

Respect is the recognition of someone’s positive qualities. I will show compassion.

Nowadays, people have almost learned how to formulate their thoughts.

The Central Bank has allowed Russians to transfer up to $150,000 a month abroad. This measure will not be in words, but in fact will make life much easier for the broad strata of the Russian population.

Yesterday, I go with the bats, I sit on the back, I work, and the back of the shaded glasses, the sun does not shine on the note.

The father stops the haishnik, his question: "There are children", the father: "Yes, from behind." Haishnik, since he does not see what is in the back window, says, "Open the window," the father opens, there I sit (41 years old).

U.S. police brutally beat a Chinese man by asking his name.

“I have lost faith in humanity, freedom and democracy,” said Faq Yu.

A lie may be justified, but it does not become the truth.

What kinds of people you will not find in the cage.
My wife and I arrived a little earlier. We stand by the window, wait for our coach, chew a protein barrel. Nearby, another coach conducts an introductory training for the girl. He laid her a griff on the shoulder and forced her to sit down. And an empty grip, by the way, weighs 20 kilos. How do you get rid of Natasha! Porn stars are nervous about smoking. In short, while she ended up under the barrel, no one was able to work in the hall. Limited to one approach, the coach quickly led the girl to another hall. And my wife pushed my elbow into my side and said with a thoughtful look:
I think she simulated.

We live in a time when smart people are forced to remain silent so that fools are not offended.

When you’ve already said 10 times, 8 times, 5 times, and 4 times, it’s hard, and the colleague still keeps telling you something.

Surprise me and I will stop.

The time.

My father was an automobile amateur. Now, when cars are roughly everybody, this word has lost its meaning, and then it was a fairly rare category of citizens. He started with a motorcycle, after marriage purchased a motorcycle with a wheelchair, and when I was 2-3 years old, they and my mother borrowed money from all relatives and bought a strawberry "Zaporožec".

Almost every weekend we went to my mother’s village. The cars were few, "Zaporožec", trembling and dreezing, carrying at a crazy speed of 70 km / h. The main danger was presented by the locals who suddenly ran out on the road: goats, dogs, boys, and sometimes adults. Every time he saw an obstacle, he pressed the signal, the car was loud and lost speed sharply. Dad said something like, “Ele slowed down,” or “I had to brake again,” or my mom noticed the goat before him and said, “Stumble!” So I learned that “braking” is the same as “bicycling”: in case of danger, you have to press the signal, the car will stumble and stop. The fact that at the same time Daddy still grumbled his foot on some pedal passed past my childhood consciousness.

Sometimes we went shopping “to the area”, that is, to small towns and villages located around our city. There could be bought, for example, socks or balls. In the city, they were quickly dealt with, and the residents of the district had not yet used these innovations, writing with ink and dressing children, including boys, in socks on rubber. Also, we must have bought on the market a briket of butter oil wrapped in a notepad in a cage or line. Milk, kefir, cheese were in the dairy store in the city, and the oil was either absent, or did not satisfy my mom in quality.

I was 5 or 6 years old when we once again came to the area and stopped on the main street. Dad and mom decided to run to the commercial store for a minute, suddenly something was thrown out there, and I was left in the car. As soon as they left, I moved to the driver’s seat and started playing an amateur car.

I remember how it was then appropriate to leave a parked car, on the first transmission or on the manual brake. Anyway, I removed her from this brake, and the car rolled under the hill far across the street. I was terribly scared. He turned back – behind the car, the father ran and shouted desperately: “Tormozi!”

Well, I started to brake the way I imagined it: I pushed with both my hands to the hammer. The car was silent, but for some reason did not slow down at all and finally crashed into a pillar. It was a slight scare, a broken lighthouse and scratches on my nose.

Why didn’t you stop? I asked the escaped father. I screamed to you.
Dad, I stopped it! I answered through tears. I stopped very loudly. But for some reason she did not stop.

More than 50 years have passed. My father has not been alive for a long time. But this expression still exists in our family and in a few friends. When someone tries to correct the situation with actions that can’t affect the situation in any way – for example, drinks fuvlomycin, or screams at a crying child to reassure him – we say to him:
I think you’re braking loud.

Wisdom does not always come with age. More often with age comes experience, allowing you to get out of situations that wise people do not get into.

When my wife asks me, will you give me a gift for my birthday? I say, and you to me? She feels. Okay - I say - it will be fair - you have something to congratulate (with me) and I really don't have anything to do.

Xxx: My girlfriend told me that programming is more important to me than she is. I replied that she was number one on my list of interests. She remained satisfied.

Better a frog in the sky than a fly in a boiler.

In 1915, at the height of World War I, Albert Marr swore allegiance to Britain. Going to the front, Marr asked for only one thing - to take home pavilion Jackie with him.

On the front, the soldiers do not have fun, and no one would have had an affair with the ordinary monkey, if not the amazing manner of behavior and exceptional character of Jackie, thanks to which he turned from an ordinary pavilion to a talisman of the 3rd South African Infantry Regiment. He was even given a special uniform and headdress with a distinctive sign of the infantry regiment. Jackie was a real infantry officer and instead of sitting in a blind, he took part in battles, crawling through the tranches. Pavian learned to pay tribute to senior officers, use a fork and knife as intended, and smoke tobacco in a pipe for the uniforms.

Later, an inseparable pair was sent to crush the Turks and Germans, where Jack's natural abilities were very useful, for example, he could detect the enemy at a much greater distance than the human sight allowed, which repeatedly saved the soldiers from the unexpected outbursts of the enemy.

In 1916, in the Battle of Agagia, Albert was wounded and Jackie began licking his wound until the doctors arrived. In 1918, in the Battle of Paschendale, Jackie himself was wounded. The squadron fell under heavy shelling and through the smoke rising from the bullshit of guns, one could see Jackie trying to build a primitive defensive structure of debris and stones. Shrapnel injured his right leg, which had to be amputated. Dr. Woodsend, who performed the operation, made this record in his diary:
“We thought to give the patient a chlorine form: if he died, it would be better to die under anesthesia. Never before in my practice had I given an anesthetic to such a patient. But Jackie took out a glass of anesthetic and began to drink greedy, as if it was a bottle of whisky! That was enough to amputate and get everything in order.”

At the end of the First World War, Capral Jackie - a cavalier of the "Pretorian medal", the owner of the golden blanket for injury, three blue chevrons - for each year of military service and military retirement, took part in the London Parade of Victory, sitting riding on a lavender.

The battle went so cheaply as if I had bought it.

XX: Are there reverse-acting drugs? You use them, and they block dopamine and serotonin, that is, you are killing yourself all night with sorrow artificially, you fall into depression and do not move, and in the morning you are released and everything becomes even better than before?



Yes, the job is called