I proposed to a friend to correspond with real paper letters, said, romantically and all that... He remained silent for a long time, and then replied, “Nataha... are you in jail?”

Thanks to the pension reform, Russians will have a pension that they can only dream of.

Recently my family suffered pain, my grandmother died from a second stroke. They all gathered their relatives, grandmother in the grave in the middle of the house. All in my family are wild believers, only I am a skeptic.

My mother began to ask her relatives if anyone had any prayers with her from the church to read before the tomb. Nobody had any prayers and I suggested, so don’t mind, saying, “Why not just “smell”? ” What I got categorically NO, because on the Internet prayers are not holy. ended

I complained to a married colleague about a man, he said that the relationship is generally always continuous suffering, but it is worth the children to appear - and you will immediately understand that before there was nothing like that.

We overwhelm the balls with the things of a friend to give something out of her unnecessary to me.

P – Oh, this is my favorite dress! Only I did not wear it.

Why didn’t I wear my favorite?

First I watched, then I didn’t get in.

The classic. and :)

How to select employees for an IT company: you need to take a difficult puzzle, gather it in half and offer candidates to gather it to the end. Depending on the result:

- the candidate has collected the puzzle correctly and to the end - the specialist goes to the development department;

- the candidate broke the puzzle during the assembly process - the specialist goes to the testing department;

- the candidate dismantled the puzzle to zero - the specialist goes to the analysis department;

- the candidate said that half the gathered puzzle and so looks good - the specialist goes to the implementation department;

The candidate did not notice the request to collect a puzzle - targets the project managers.

A serious relationship cannot be built without a sense of humor.

The last World Championship was marked not only by sports sensations but also by a strong burst on the behavior of Russian women and their accessibility. The Internet filled with numerous photos of allegedly Russian girl engaging in all kinds of silly things with an alleged foreign fan.
Patriots of numerous masters shake their hands and shed tears about national pride and reputation. How is it! Now the whole world knows about available Russian women! Different kinds of federal and local newspapers are drunk with the description of scenes as Russian women desperately offer themselves to foreigners. Shame on the world!

Interested in the topic, I decided to kiss and kiss about the opinion of foreigners about Russian women during the championship. And, surprisingly, I only discovered tons of amateur video from Latin countries about how you can skillfully breed a naive Russian young beauty for quick entertainment.

Here is the scene as a group of Brazilian fans with a kind smile approaches the girls sitting on the bench and as a demonstration of international friendship asks to repeat for them the phrase in Portuguese - "I want to suck your fox." Naive, confident girls, polished by the attention of foreign guests, cheerfully repeat for them.

Or in the crowd of Argentinians together with everyone joyfully jumps a very cute blonde and tries to pronounce in Spanish "I am a gentle, pink vagina." How we taught...

How else then? Thro the civilized world, Latinos are perceived as a social bottom. In Portugal and Spain, Brazilians and Argentinians are the foundations of prostitution, drug trafficking and low-skilled labor. And only in Russia they felt foreigners for a couple of weeks. But, as the saying goes, you can take a Brazilian from Latin America, but Latin America from a Brazilian.

And surprisingly, no one in the world commented on available Russian women, and in horror look at these animals, who in all use the naivety and kindness of our women and write what a shame for Latinos. We Europeans are ashamed of all those who come to Russia and wear a cap in the shape of a condom.

And only the Russian press writes about Russian shallows and prostitutes, instead of showing photos of concerned Argentinians carefully studying the technique released by the Argentinian Football Association to seduce Russian women. The Argentines have apologized. This is shame.
A disgrace is not for our women, who have the right to sleep with whom they want and when they want, but for all sorts of moralists and pseudo-patriots, who in the focus do not see foreign drinking craving, but with intoxication throw stones at our women.

Many famous robbers had shareholders without whose help they would not be able to commit their daring robberies, such as Bonnie and Clyde, Buch Cassidy and Sandens Kid, the Pension Fund and the Ministry of Health...

I have two friends. We call them Sasha and Vadim. Both work in the kitchen as chefs in the delivery of sushi and work on a shift. He comes to me in his weekend sacha to talk and smoke. In the conversation he asks me:

Have you not seen Wadiya?

Last time, what is it?

“Well, go, I call him, and he takes the phone and immediately says to me, ‘Go! “I was rushing here. I guess I know, but no! I re-call, a long clutches go, again takes the phone and immediately "Go, a! " I do not know what happened. I go to work to talk to him.

Didn’t you mess with him? At work what?

Apparently everything was okay.

Go out and find out. Strange what happened to him.

Eventually, having agreed on other topics, he left. It was more than half a working day and Sasha decided to look at me again. Remembering the conversation, I ask the first:

What did Vadik send you there?

It is OK. I just called him because he was drunk at 5 in the morning.

In the summer, I often go out to stand on the balcony with a naked torso. A neighbor through several balconies with a young son also go out to boil the bubbles. They look at me and talk about something. Then Dad shouted to me:

Fey, where did you get that carpet? ! to

At first I looked around, looking for a carpet behind me, and then I guessed they were joking about my hairy torso. Both are bald like drums.

Dad gave it! I began to answer.

So it continued for many years, and the joke began to grow thick hair, like the neighbor's son who marries every year. Kolya, his son, by the age of twenty and a little got completely hairy and became like an orangutan.

Where did this carpet come from? ! to Is it time for me to ask a question, pointing to the neighbor’s son?

The neighbor said nothing, only looked away and went into the apartment.

I was 9-10 years old (end of the 90s, early 00). At that time there was a super popular group “scooter”. I liked their song "How much is the fish", and then I watched the video on TV.

Disaster Scooter, Childhood, Trying to Escape

My childhood heart loved Eich P. Baxter entirely. I immediately bought their cassette (the CD was not yet available) and listened to it to the hole, dreaming of a beautiful prince.

Here Papa brings a magazine of 7 days and there is just a huge article on 3 sheets with the main soloist and a lot of photos. I kissed these photos one evening and here on the radio host tells how a girl from Russia stuck home to a member of the group “five” (whose eyelid in the eyebrows was) and he let her in and drank her tea. Here, in my child’s brain, a plan immediately matures. Since we lived in the Moscow region, I planned to get by electric train to the Moscow Station, and there to take a train to Germany. Then someone would help me get to Eich P. Baxter’s house and he would open the door and marry me.

In the school dining room I liked sweet popcorn and I ordered my sister to buy me 4 packs (as I remember now, I took 16 rubles from my soul and left myself 50 rubles on the way to Germany). Why I didn’t buy it, I don’t remember. In the evening, I put 4 packs of sweet popcorn and 2 bananas in a huge old wallet. The next day, after school, I ate tightly, wore the best sporting suit, a white shirt (it was a warm September) and tied 2 tails with straps. And here I stand in front of the exit, look at myself in the mirror and imagine how upset Mom and Dad will be. My grandmother and sister will cry. They will look for me, and I will be so far away. In general, I was so angry with compassion and love for myself that I broke up and went nowhere. Soon my mother came from work and I told her that I couldn’t get to school, and I was crying. And she looked at the photo of Eich P. Baxter, cried and ate her supplies to escape.

The more I listen to journalists at various summits, the more I am convinced that they are all birds—papagaies, crabs, and canary birds. They can only whisper and repeat what their masters taught them.

Any teacher, working in school for many years, in the topic - how much children-social-idiots with mothers have grown up in recent years, curled with knowledge about the correct and healthy upbringing of their insignificant children.
Every fool and prosecutor knows exactly that children cannot be punished, otherwise their gentle, hard-to-educate psyche can collapse and grow up unknown what. But with the help of new trends, it is known that - a two-legged human shit.
As was previously the case in our terrible socialist childhood in the camp – for the wickedness, the shamefulness, the slothfulness, the boastfulness, the lies – there must have been a tough response from the boys all over the world. One for all and all for one, and if someone is going to cheer, then the educational procedure in the torsion and the tables immediately socialized the child and brought him to feel. But now down. The whole power of the rule of law lies in the protection of the fools, who can only be raised by admonition.

So then. A famous pioneer camp in history. International Children’s Centre. Like then, the most talented children get the trip. Previously, these were children, purely by chance, of obkomovsky, gorkomovsky, hornoshny oblonošnych and so on. Officers and executives, but this is not the case. You know how.
And here one of the daily days, the head of the security service of a serious state company goes through the camp. The father asked secretly to check how his son lives and rests there. The head of the SB, as it was appropriate, looked at everything, everything seemed to be fine, but looking for a profile in the toilet - a little stumbled. In a shining bowl and smelling roses, the toilet in one of the cabins was squeezed and squeezed. What a shit, asked the head of the SB at the camp guard. You understand, he says. There is a Russian boy in your squad. He refuses to wash himself. This is not a bar. Our warnings and prayers do not work on him. He is dumb like a pig in a laundry.
And the parents?
He lives with his mother and we don’t know anything about his father. Mother whispers that the boy is so accustomed and we are not going to raise him. Who are we against her? All, grit, I buried if you picket on the Ruslanchik.
Couldn’t this idiot just be put on the horns? Making a dark?
You are what! Mommy she sends here all the stuff, the type is cooler than herself.
Do you speak yourself? What is this mother’s name? Chicken is. So is so.
Well, our head of the SB went to the boss for a report.
A week later, Ruslanchik's mother arrives from Moscow at night. Silence takes the child out of the bedroom.
Going around the corner. And in a minute, a double whistle is distributed to the entire "marine" squad. Mother cries and cries her baby. In the absence of the woman's belt, the mother licked her son with a branch of acacia. It was hard for her leaders to get rid of it.
The next day, Ruslanchik unexpectedly discovered the ability to wash in the toilet, say thank you in the dining room and abruptly ceased to fuck out. Laughing at all. What happened was told by the BJP chief.
He just called his friend and told him about the situation. He, being not the last person in the General Prosecutor's Office, called the general chief of the same lady and gently asked why in his company, the boss of the company, in senior positions, do the babies, unable to teach even their children the rules of behavior and hygiene? And why are their children so fucking in front of the children of even more respected people? Who gave her the right to that? He understood the hint and sent an order to organize the chief of the Petush department to wash the toilets on the general floors. Until she learns herself and teaches her skills to her relatives. And my mother explained in direct text that fucking she would be in this reality the last...
A very effective remedy for scabies turned out to be, unfortunately, rare and expensive.

PS What surprised me in this story. Humanity has evolved over millennia and the experience in education also has a thousand-year history. So what a fucking kind of foolish people suddenly decided that punishing children is a universal crime! But if a young creature does not understand the meaning of words at all, then another source of knowledge, worked out on the tapes of millions of our fellow tribes, has the world historical right to life. And Ruslanchiki will quickly become normal people, learn to appreciate not only themselves and the notion of boys major will finally disappear from our lexicon.

by 2025.
In the Code of Criminal Procedure of the Russian Federation was introduced the article "Reaching the retirement age", in the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation was introduced the article "Vilty exceeding the retirement age".

It’s better to hear in your address, “Well, you’re a fruit!“Well, you are a vegetable!“”

Do you know how it happens? You live your quiet, measured life. Many interesting people around, many trips to countries and continents. You are getting older. Years pass like goats in the evening sky. And only memories remain behind their flock and screams of “li-y-k! and liqueur!”

Fate drove me, with a filming group, to Mexico. Flights, work, negotiations, relocations - all the routine fell on my shoulders. The assistant remains in Moscow. Just before the trip I broke my hand. The Growth! Oh, how I already wore her! And he called it rough, and rough, and rough. Glad she didn’t hear that! How is it? At the most uncomfortable moment for me and the group! I missed her guardian angel. Or maybe my...
And here I go on a white day on a hot slope of a slightly inclined street, shooting objects on the camera on the opposite side. And here... This is always the case... All the important things happen unexpectedly... From somewhere above, on the sidewalk, a ten-year-old boy flies out on the big. I didn’t even have time to see the story, as he hit my hand with the wheel!
The camera, like in slow shooting, flies out of hand and flies into small pieces on the rocks. I stand with my mouth open. And a small shirt, slowing down on my hand for a second, jumps out at the crossroads, almost hitting the forehead of the body of the passing truck. A second was not enough to get under the wheels! A little further away, he slowly falls on the bridge, and the bike continues to bear on the road and ends his life under the wheels of an old scooter.
And there was day, and there was evening. somehow otherwise. A! There was a crowd and there was police. There were witnesses who saw the whole situation from the beginning to the end.
A protocol was drawn up on the site. In the corner weep the mother of the little breaker of all the rules of the PDD. Nearby was crying, whether from fear, or from the loss of the bicycle, the hero of my story. I was waiting for a translator and I thought.
The distant days of my childhood. I ride on my new "Orly" along the narrow brushed streets of my Lviv. The hair is ripped by the wind. There is parody music in my head. I am delighted with this royal gift for my decade. This great man can do everything. Now I’ll jump on a crossover from the border to the bridge, like a real trampoline rider. I’m already training this jump for the third time before showing it to my friends. Fortunately, there are never cars here. for 10 seconds! and nine! Eight, but what is it? A toy machine runs over me. I am braking! I try to get around her, but she suddenly gives back. I am surprised to fall on the sidewalk, and my bike, pulling this fabulous machine, flies out on the bridge, right under the wheels of ZIL.
The police, the crying mother, the father’s belt I remembered poorly. But the boy-tourist from Japan with his miracle-radio-machine has not been erased in memory to this day. He specifically directed her across to me, seeing that I would not notice the truck before the collision. Neither he nor his parents got the money. They only rejoiced in my salvation.
I was reminded by our translator, Consuella. She was worried about my health. The next question was about the price of the camera that the gentleman wishes to display in claim to the little hooligan. Well, she told me that the driver of the lightweight, who crashed on a bicycle, also demands monetary satisfaction for something there stripped from his rugged roof.
I said I have no financial claims. I am glad the boy is alive and almost healthy. I took out all the cash that was with me, I gave $250 to the boy’s mother, taking from her a vow to take the boy to the doctor if he feels dizzying or other illnesses. Buy him another bicycle. The driver gave everything left. Exactly $95.
Consuella told me not to do this, explaining that the police had no claims against me. The woman and the boy thanked, rushing to kiss me in the hand. The joyful driver of the car washed under the noise. Probably afraid that I might change my mind. And I was leaving the site and realizing that a couple of hours ago the guardian angel of this little Mateo and mine had made a deal. I signed it with my money. And he gave more only because he wanted to add something from himself. I used the camera to calculate the action of a Japanese boy. Sorry, I never knew your name. And with money I would simply like to extend this process of interaction between the guardian angels who protect us.
Remember to. Someday you will be asked what they did for you. At the most unexpected moment. And you will have a chance not only to calculate what happened, but also to extend the process.

I didn’t have time to become a pioneer and a commodor. I will not be able to go and retire.

Peter on Friday night. A young couple walks around the center. The husband (he is, as it is easy to guess, the storyteller) usually thinks about everything at once and nothing specifically, the wife practically looks at the passers and after the process announces: "Let's come home, we will shave your beard." The husband, without much surprise, said, “Why is this more?” Wife: “Now all the youths have beards. You have become like a little boy.”

Unfortunately, the lack of hearing and voice nature often compensates for the irresistible urge to sing.