The client (K) calls and immediately begins to scream:

Q: How do I do so that I don’t have to constantly contact you to recover your login and password? ! to

Q: Do I remember the data?

Q: Thank you very much!

He drops the call.

I go electric. A 50-year-old man is sitting in front of me. Shirt, trousers and tie. This is called “Middle Level Manager.” He gets an apple, eats, and squeezes the straw in the gap between the window and the seat. We approach the end. He stands up for the exit. Next is the dialogue between me (I) and uncle (D):

I: Have you forgotten anything?

D: No, and what then?

I: (I’m pointing to the bite) Why waste it?

Uncle immediately switches to supernatural intonation

D is Uber!

I: I wonder who?

D: I am a fool! Who are you to tell me? ! to

It turns and moves to the exit.

I take a bite... To be honest, the strongest desire was to push him that bite over the shovel. But he was in a tie, so with all the desire it would not work. But in his hands he has a leather wallet, which is so successful not stuck to the end of the lightning. I squeezed him in the wallet with a precise movement and dropped it at sunset. As far as I understand, he didn’t even notice it :)

On the one hand, childhood of course. On the other hand, it became easier.

A acquaintance told me.

I sit in the salon, waiting for my master to be released, on the contrary, - apparently a single man with his son (age 5), from the series "shilo in one place".

The baby, pointing to me with a finger, “silently” so, to the whole salon:

“Daddy, and Daddy, look at what aunt! This... Like her... Well how you love her... Well, a blonde with black hair... And her legs are normal! And the ears! Let’s get married to her!

Red as cancer dad.

“Misha, you can’t say that, don’t tick your finger, be silent, don’t be ashamed.

Misha, not paying attention to the dad, who even has his heels, probably, red:

Soon I realized that my aunt is good. And now she will be cut and she will be beautiful... like a pterodactyl! At least you can call her to see.

A poor dad from somewhere under the chair explained to me that the child was stunned by dinosaurs, and “beautiful like a pterodactile” is a compliment.

What female heart does not grow out of such galacticity? I had to go to the cinema with my father Igor and my son Misha after the haircut, watch the cartoon.

And in the salon since then all the masters, including manicure and pedicure, ask if to make me beautiful, "like a pterodactyl"...

One of my relatives was an employee of GAI. He told that story. From the first person.

The partner had a big and pure love with the seller of the store, located next to the DPS post. Everything would be fine, but he was long and strongly married, and she was married. I had to get out somehow. And here we end the shift late in the evening. The partner says:

- Well, you here all the papers, and I will take the Verochka to the house. It just closed.

As it turned out, they were not far away. From the road turned into the woods. We left literally 20 meters from the road and stopped. The partner placed Faith on the rear seat, and himself remained outside in the doorway of the open door. As a true gentleman believes, he kneeled before the lady and began to explain her in love, not so much in words, but in deeds.

I quickly finished all the things and went to the house. I see, at one of the turns, all the cars slow down, almost stop, and then sharply increase speed and leave. I went to this place and I took the phone and called my partner.

Anything urgent, something urgent? I am busy! I heard the unhappy voice of my partner.

- You hear, fool, the jacket reflects the light, or you shine like light music. All passers see. You think you are punishing the offender.

He did not repeat such mistakes again. But between us we sometimes called him Dim-Svetomuzyka.

AutoVAZ will start producing the "six" again - after the restyling it will be called Lada X-6

The name is good, convenient. For many, the conversation with the talks in the club will go to a completely new level:

What kind of car do you have?

and X-6

I love the BMW.

I also love BMW.

In Tver court, a friend will appeal a fine for non-payment of parking (2500 rubles).

Are you tired of complaining about the fines? Here one man is walking, will appeal a fine of 300 rubles, the case is confused, I am ready to give him 300 rubles, only if he was back!

To start the economy, the wise build factories, and the fools build stadiums.

The wise man teaches the children, and the fool teaches the EEG.

The wise man pays the people for work and the fool for service.

For the wise, old age is a merit, for the fool a burden.

Recently I told a story from the police practice in which a worthy military chosen with the hooligans the most correct line of behavior, and applied force only in the extreme case. The story has caused a fierce discussion. There were also adequate opinions, but one of the main streams was the surprise of such a man's " cowardice". Someone even began to reason with the concepts of the zone - said, you will behave this way, you will become a lifetime under the shell of mistake and a spoonful of hole. You will be a cock. Once again I am convinced of the correctness of Pelevin - the soul of the Russian man wraps the term, and the body is free, he is trying his best to behave according to the concepts, so as not to let God think of anything in the zone. Nevertheless, I, as a professional who has worked for a decade and a half in the law enforcement system, laugh at other citizens' attempts to make an impression on the fool, to be "not fools" in the eyes of "right guys". Just remember that most of these “right guys” are double idiots with eight classes of education. Those who all their lives live in shit and argue with the concepts of Ellochka Ludojadka. They have no desires other than those that the animals share - to have sex, to eat and the opposite of eating, and in all these desires they are extremely inconsistent - he wants to eat, he will rob and eat, he wants sex, he will drop your wife into bushes.
I would like to tell a story that happened eight or nine years ago, which perfectly demonstrates the intellectual level of hypocrisy. I often tell her in schools when they are invited, and I think that thanks to her fans of the AUE culture has become an order less.
There lived a man. He lived very comfortably - near the garage, where his car was still nearby - a small forest with a pond. One day on his birthday he was given a video camera, and he installed it on the kitchen balcony, headed to the garage where his car was standing and connected to the TV. For a nervous person is very convenient - at any time switched to the desired channel and watched if the spana is not wrong near the garage. This camera and played a fatal role in the fate of four scammers at once. No, she didn’t shoot a horrible crime, it was a lot more funny. So, one day, two guests from the sunny South came to visit a man. He, despite all his caution, let the boys into the apartment and took them to the kitchen. It turned out that the guys suggested to install glass packs. The man was not interested in the offer, but the guests continued to insist, and the further, the more. At some point in the dispute, one of the guests from attempts to divorce (this is a well-known topic, very popular at the time - the client does not get windows, but the money is deprived) has already gone to direct threats and demands of money. The man under some pretext ran to the kitchen balcony and spread the camera towards the kitchen, putting it on recording. This maneuver somewhat miraculously remained unnoticed by the scammers. Returning to the kitchen, he offered the guests to go away with a greeting, in response to which he received a hook on the left and straight into the chest. After hitting the man, guests searched the apartment, turning everything in the kitchen including. They managed to pull out a little - some ten or twenty thousand, which was in the man's wallet. Then, with a proud sight, the mountains departed. The man wrote a statement attaching a video recording. Vano and Sergo were detained the next day, eventually fleeing for seven years for the robbery under article 162. But this is not the end of history. During the process, relatives of guests from the South often came to the man, all from the same camp. Someone tearfully prayed to pity and not destroy young souls, someone offered money, and one of the visitors delighted. When he entered the kitchen, he sat in front of the man and laid a gun on the table. He wrapped his sleeves and said, “Do you see this and that tattoo?” I was sitting behind the moisture, and "if you do not take a claim on the biratov..." The man has long been accustomed to accepting these kinds of guests in the kitchen and every time, already going to open the door, put the camera to record. This time the conversation was also recorded. When checked in the police department, the threatening man was immediately established - indeed, a recidivist, who was suspended by 105. The place of residence was also known, and the opera group left at the same time. The defendant was given 2 years for 119 1 (menace of murder, if there were grounds to fear the implementation of the threat). This article is rarely closed. How do you prove that the victim was really afraid and the murderer threatened not in a joke? Usually she goes by steam car to serious bodily injury or attempted murder: that is, conditionally if the villain shouted, "I will kill you," and then crushed the victim, but for some reason did not hit. But in this situation, the person simply wrote a deadline for himself.
But as Zadornov said, “It’s too early to laugh!” Subsequently, another person appeared in the apartment to the victim. He no longer threatened, but expressed himself fluidly: "You know that there is anything that is better to give in such a situation," - well, and so on. The man did not understand what it was, however, in any case took the recording to the operatives. It turned out that on the footage - a known recidivist, announced in search. Two police officers were sent to the man, and for him and his family liberated a service home in the center of the city. It was thought that the operation would take weeks, but the scammer was caught on the second day - he was noticed in a summer cafe near the victim's home. This has already flown to the "White Swan", and the operatives have flown the stars to pursue.
And the funniest thing – what? The fraudsters came on the same rack three times. The lawyers were familiar with the material in the case, they knew perfectly that their actions were recorded on the film, but persistently continued to rape the cactus.
And I also add to the young people who have been permeated by the AUE culture what the unforgettable Colonel Cherenkov told us at the Department of Criminology. From a financial point of view, the criminal is very similar to a prostitute. Who is a prostitute? A girl who has not invested in education, personal skills, but earns as a leader in the field where these abilities are required. Conditionally, if she was a secretary, she would get 25 thousand, become a prostitute, she gets as a chief secretary - 75-120 thousand. And if an honest girl grows in personal skills and her value on the labor market rises, the value of a prostitute falls as she loses attractiveness with age. Also, the scammer - could work as a carrier for 30 thousand, but pulls money from his pockets for 100-150, constantly risking personal freedom and health. So think, young people - what is better, to invest in education, or once and for all to drunk themselves out of the society of decent people, to ruin their lives and earn pennies. In addition, criminals can rarely give something to their children (if they have it at all, which is a comparative rarity), and they become most often addicts, go the way of parents...

If at the time of the football championship, protests, rallies and other events were banned, why did they not ban deputies from adopting laws at the same time?

I walk on the beach with my husband. The frogs were so loose that he occasionally looks at them in the water, because of this he barelyins a conversation, constantly distracted.

When I noticed that I was dull and stopped trying to talk, he immediately reassured me:

Don’t worry, I need you more than frogs.

Then it hangs for a few seconds and so thoughtfully:

There are many frogs, but you are alone.

I had never seen such a painful doubt on his face.

and London. A crowd of drunk Hindus rushes into the cafe from a neighboring pub. This nation is not typical to be drunk. Especially in the stall. The clothes are all decent, but the alcohol went through and boiled. The staff lost their feet, what to do with them and how to get rid of them. And here comes a waitress from a neighboring cafe, let’s call him Peter, who once worked here too. He slowly evaluates the situation and cries at full volume with mobile hard porn. The shouts and shouts filled the hall.

Hindus are stifled, instantly silenced and quickly disappeared.

The staff looked at Peter with astonishment, saying that it had just happened.

With them it is only possible. When they hit, they are ready for any war, but not for porn. We always drive them out, Peter explains phlegmatically.

In the 90s I was a student. And once I had to pull home from the store a bag on wheels, full of pearls.

Basically borrowed and meeting acquaintances in the next courtyard, I decided to stay to play, looking at the back of my eyes on the bag.

And at some point I noticed how a grandmother quickly appreciated the contents of the bag and so boldly pulled it.

I was already rushing to restore justice, as the thought came to mind that the pearl is very heavy, and the grandmother is dragging the bag to the right side for me. Therefore...

For 15 minutes I quietly followed her in the distance, until my grandmother’s route stopped coinciding with the route to my home.

And here already a polite pioneer in my face caught my grandmother and with the words, "grandmother, this is my bag" - returned to himself valuables in the form of crops and bags.

We talked about the bad habit of a common acquaintance to bite her nails when she’s anxious. They started to remember how they all bite their nails as a child. And whom they taught. One of his nails was rubbed with pepper, one even with mustard) who at a younger age remembered some kind of special lacquer. I also remembered how my father taught me to bite my nails.

I was 10 years old. My father saw that I bite my nails again. He looked at me with a smile and spoke. Imagine you catch a girl for her chest, and you have the nails chewed, cuddled. This will be a shame... all fucking! From 10 years, I don't bite my nails (this conversation is in my head)

Even at the time when we did not have such a fight with our nearest neighbor, I frequently visited relatives in Ukraine.

A cousin’s husband was a haishnikov in a provincial, but rather large city. Fortunately, he is now retired. At one of my arrivals, he went on night service. I came back in the morning in a very elevated mood and told the following story. From the first person.

We stand on the track. I was lucky, I caught a drunk man and drawn him. The detainee sits in the rear seat, I write a protocol on the front passenger. The partner lazyly looks into the flow of cars. Shake a stick, but instead of stopping, Niva adds gas and hides away. The man is jumping for the ride.

We went to catch!

Nivea was fast. But to the ringing of the siren and the demand to stop, she did not respond. turned into the city. They started crawling in the streets. We don’t have America and we can’t block the traffic by replacing our car. They will get rid of them and be forced to repair at their own expense. Contacted the boss, he promised to call reinforcements and allowed us to shoot on the wheels if we left the city. At the next turn, Niva slightly failed to calculate the trajectory and crashed into the rebrick by unloading one wheel. Further pursuit continues with sparks carved by a disk on asphalt. But the full drive allows her to move on.

Apparently realizing that in the city from us not to separate, Niva goes outside the city.

- The driver of Niva, bla bla bla bla, leave immediately or we open fire! I am in the mattress.

Niva immediately bends on some forest path and gets stuck, bustling in place. I run out of the car with a gun in my hand. I run to the driver’s door. I pull the pen, it’s closed. Then I handled the pistol over the glass. It is in the movie glass beats from a light blow of the main character. Everything is a little more complicated in life. The glass did not break from either the first or the fifth blow. At that moment, Niva got stuck on the road and went back. But the last blow also resulted. The glass was broken in pieces. While the car was moving, I managed to get the gas bubble and let the stream in the window. But it was already far away.

In the forest, the pursuit continued at a speed of 30 kilometers per hour. And then Niva turns just into the forest, apparently the driver had hoped for its off-road qualities. Overall, the calculation was correct. We immediately lay down on the defense in the sidewalk and the wheels rolled in the air. But he did not calculate the width of the car and crashed between two trees 20 meters ahead. As we got out of the car, the driver of Niva walked out of a broken window (the door was clogged by a tree) and tried to hit the forest.

to stand! Or I will shoot! - I shouted him in the back and shot in the air (at this moment the relative turned his eyes straight from pleasure, apparently he had long dreamed of doing so, but the opportunity was not provided).

The driver stopped and raised his hands. I ran, slapped him off his legs, laid his face down and put on handcuffs.

Why did you run away, fool? They could have shot!

I drank a little. I met the girls. We went to ride. I was scared that you would take the right. Maybe his wife will find out.

As later turned out, in Niva, two girls with reduced social responsibility were sitting on the back seat.

Go sit with us in the back seat. We can call for help or get stuck.

No, I will not sit!

You sit where I tell you! I answered a bit of the beast.

“Look quietly, Commander, I was very scared when you fired and fought.

When I turned his back, I saw the wet hovering pants behind him.

When he and his partner broke up, they called the PPS.

While the chief and the PPS decided to draft a protocol. I approach our car, and from the rear seat comes the manic, which I was designing when the pursuit began and which we immediately forgot. He just shone!

Men, it’s just to shake! This is just Hollywood! Damn, I am not sorry for my rights. I am glad you stopped me! I will tell my grandchildren how I participated in the pursuit of the shooting! Thanks to you!

In the end, the PPS-Niki was taken. Girls with reduced social responsibility wanted to be taken to the city. In the end, they conspired with the PPS and they took them to their UAZik. The chief sent us to write an explanation on the shooting topic. Local news reports said a few words about the incident.

I was detained on the passage of my employee in a drunk state before the start of the work shift. The penalty for this dose is one - dismissal.

Immediately on the operative pool brigade came into hysteria:

- You can, come in, talk to the management, he will no longer be.

I was then in the management on a good account, my opinion was taken into account. And he was a good expert, one of the last. It is hard to find such a replacement. I thought and agreed:

I’ll call you now and make an arrangement. I need two names, who of you will be the guardian? If it happens again, I’ll expel all three.

In the end, there was not even one guarantor, they looked at each other and said, "Yes, he must be drunk, and why should I lose my job for him?"



And approximately at the same time - my employee was detained on the passageway with a regular electric light bulb.

Everything went according to the same scenario. Here I announce to everyone:

“The cost of this light bulb is 0.017 percent of his salary. Who is responsible for a colleague?”

And the same people who screamed to me a minute ago - "Anyone can give up, he understood everything, we guarantee him," instantly silenced and gave out:

It is foolish to steal a light bulb with such a salary. What idiot should I say?

Very good logic.

In order to increase the well-being of a pensioner, it is necessary to force him to work.

I was a translator, but for many years, before life turned completely differently, I was also a teacher. Well, if not so seriously, just an English teacher. Over the years I have accumulated a lot of teaching stories. Especially because I started teaching someone something very early. At the age of 17, she graduated from school and became a student.

My mother and I lived very poorly. My mom taught private English lessons as long as I can remember. She came home from school and started her second (and even third) shift. And then I grew up - still an English special school behind my shoulders, a student, why not try it? And my mother helps, and I earn money, and practice - with this specialty, I will ever have to teach.

To my surprise, the students arrived quite quickly. Almost all of them were third-class students. After understanding the situation, I realized that they were, as a rule, the children of officers who were recently transferred to serve in our city. The parents wanted to give them to an English special school, and English had to be taught. After the fourth-fifth grade, this was usually not decided (there would be too much to catch up), and third-class students - right.
All my third-class students were very cute people, I taught them with pleasure and remember with a smile.

I remembered this boy especially.

The new student. A lovely intelligent mother. The son is a wheat blonde with not quite the usual name Miroslav. My name is Mirek. The Polish roots? A Russian boy with a very Russian surname.
“Well, Mirak, we’ll get to know you. What are you fascinated? What do you like to do? to read? What are you reading?
“I like books on military history,” Mirek replies to me, “I am now, for example, reading the history of the Napoleonic Wars of Tarle.

History of the Napoleonic Wars. by Tarle. The third class. Not even a third class. It’s summer, and he’s just moved to the third class.

And you know, I paid attention to one interesting moment. Other authors...

So, Mirek obviously intended to read me a lecture. A good lecture, by the way, with knowledge of the matter, with an understanding of the subject, with a comparative analysis... His language is like a professor. Solidity and prudence are far from childish. The overall development is surprising. Readiness is shrinking. Oh my God, what should I do with this wanderkinde?! to

What to do, what to do, and what to do! Why was he brought to me? Working in English? Here we will practice. You just need to realize that this is not a child. He may look like a child, and his height is small, and his voice is childish, but this boy will probably be older than me. Everything is done, as with an adult.

Our classes are strange. My new student has some totally bottomless memory and incredible learning. Mirek moves forward, swallowing the material into huge pieces, and all my attempts to “repeat” and “fix” are cut to the root.
Why waste time? I already know.
– Mirek, – I try to hold him, – in the language it cannot be so. It’s not mathematics where “I’ve already understood, you can go further.” It’s like music, like dance – exercises are needed, skills need to be fixed, worked out, brought to automation. Do you understand?
“Yes,” Mirek replied, “but I already know it. Check it.

A couple of times I really check, then, shaking my hand, I give up. He knows. He really knows. If Mirek says he knows...

The first class program will be completed in a week. In another two or three weeks (with all my desperate attempts to slow down the process, give extra material, etc.) Finished second class. After that, I call his mother and say that as I regret losing such a student, he no longer needs my lessons. Miriam can go to the third class. (Oh, I am afraid that he can go in the tenth, but it is unknown what he has there with the exact sciences...) Mama Mireka doesn’t believe me. We do a few more weeks, we run quite far (whether in the fourth or fifth class) and we break up, quite satisfied with each other.

For a while I still hear something about Mireka from my former teachers: “... he makes such reports on history! What a speech! What an erudition!” And then – study, work, new students, new events, and I finally lose sight of it.

Then passes the whole life. The world is changing unrecognizably, and there is such a miracle as the Internet. And at some point, looking for long lost acquaintances, friends, classmates, neighbors, I decide to try to find out - and what about Mirek? I find it easy - so, a Russian military historian and writer, a candidate of historical sciences, UGU, colonel, author of many books on military-historical topics. He chose his profession early. A happy man! Well, in the "thematics" of him, of course, I do not understand anything, but on one of the forums I find the argument of the participant: "... this is stated by Miroslav Eduardovich himself, and he, without a doubt, knows." “Sam Miroslav Eduardovich.”

And I have that little professor in front of me: "I already know this!"
It’s just scary to imagine how much Mirek knows now!

Once Dmitry Medvedev decided to be closer to the people and live on 15 thousand rubles.
But he didn’t like that breakfast.

My friend told me a long time ago.

"I killed the secretary here: I have a new aska stand, which shows when someone is picking up messages for me. I began to pick me up. I think she can ask the secretary at 5 p.m., only to leave earlier (and she is studying law), and I call her "OK, go." Sending faster

of her. From her comes the first question, and then these eyes "how do you know? ? to ? to ? to ? “ He said the director should know everything.

of staff.”

The wife read out some strange recipe for pearls, spelled over it for half a day, gathered the whole family at the table, looking forward to the evaluation... And then the younger handed out: “Mom, you are so good at cooking...” The woman then blossomed all, and he continued: “Pizza, pizzas, cheeses, cheeseburger you have delicious, pizzas... Mom, please, prepare them, don’t prepare the pearls!”