I rushed to an interview.

I rush into all the support, I almost run, suddenly I see some man walking along with me.

We go to the nostrils, but at the last meters in front of the door I overtake it, while stopping and holding the door.

The interview was held by HR, it remains to talk to the future boss.

I go into the office, and there is this man.

HR didn’t have time to close the door, and he was already whispering: “Accepted, arrange!”

He said, “Why should I interview you? So I see – polite, punctual and responsible.”

I always agree with the wise, and immediately with the fool.

Right under the window of my dining room is a playground. Among the other walkers there regularly comes there with her offspring of 4-5 years a girl.
And I’m chasing the tea, to watch, military-nolense. See and hear. It would go, and so well, and the weather, and the tea, and smoke under the tea and the weather (smoking is bad, the bulls smoke in the ashes well).
The girl leaves her baby and sits on the bench to tap into the phone. If there are no children on the site, then the mother's basket picks up a rod, and is worn with a wild reed along the perimeter, spinning a rod over the iron fence, or crumbling on such a machine, which is made to the site with a thick sprinkle. Oret as well. It hurts as if it is torn into pieces. It plays so. The girl has already indicated this. Wiped off the whores: Achotacov? The child.
When children appear, the game is concentrated in the sandbox. Chado stops roaring and for a while, together with everyone, something is digging into this sandbox. But not long. Whether it is a shoulder to load, or a sand to throw. And immediately in the rave, and to the store to Mom. Mom stands up, hand in hand, to all the comments one answer: yours are not crying, but my crying. Catch your own hooligans.
Their father, a healthy, good-hearted child, joined the family a couple of times on a walk, at the outcome of the son shakenly turned his head, bursting apologies and threw to his wife:
- Katyusha, mla, after the boy, mla, follow, mla. I can’t do it and raise the boy, and I took the family home.
Yesterday, my grandfather brought the boy to the square. Intelligent look, in glasses, with a truss. He sat down, opened the book and started reading. The child was accustomed and rattled. The grandfather called him in a few minutes:
Smoke, or you will be silent, or I will feed you with dog shit. Choose, so calmly and firmly said.
The smoke, bleeding, shut his mouth.
Remember, you cannot scream. Otherwise, someday someone will feed you with dog shit. Mom and Dad won’t help. I understood? Go and play.
I opened the book again.
Smoke brought the children to the sandbox. And, soon, I was already weeping to my grandfather, having managed to sink some of the boys in the sand.
Grandfather continued to read unwaveringly, Dima caught up with a wheel of little boys and he was struck with sand, and shouldered. The smoke waved with a cut pork.
My parents, mom and dad jumped out.
The mother cried out to her son, saying that she did not expect this from her father. Is it my grandfather? This is a whirlwind!!! to
The father read the book with indolence, and only once ran with his son-in-law, who behind his wife's back showed his mother-in-law Lois.

Turkey has shot down a Russian aircraft.
“We will not forgive you!” They said in the Kremlin and sold to the Turks the latest S-400 air defense systems.

A six-year-old son saw his uncle playing chess on his smartphone. I wanted to burn too. He came home and began to ask him to buy him chess. The hands came in a couple of weeks and the chess were bought. The son of the boy is stubborn, confident in himself as in the alpha male. He plays as he wants, my attempts to explain him how the figures walk are unsuccessful. He just denies everything and says I’m wrong. The conditional horse must walk straight. After half an hour, I realize that I don’t have angelic patience. I go to the computer and download the chess program. I set the first level and enable the hint mode. He sits and plays. Makes a lot of illogical moves, the program does not allow him to do moves unusual for these figures. He sits like this from morning to evening. He periodically challenges me. I always win, he is upset. To not get upset sometimes I give up. Thus passed a month. He challenges me again. We play. I play for relaxation. Self-taught, I evaluate my level between 4 and 3. I lost the first game. I become more serious. We play more. I also lose the second. And then the third. Now I realize it’s time to put him in the chess section. The chess section is skeptical about him. Another baby said. Bring it next year. But to convince us of this, let us play with 3 loader. 3 discharge is broken into powder and dust. Two officers are attacked against him. The game ends with none. The initiative was on my son’s side. The chess director sends us to the 4th division. Isn’t it early for us?He replied, “No, it is ready.” The result of 8 victories, 2 defeats and 4 defeats was obtained from the first attempt after two days of visits to the chess section. We are surprised, the son is happy and we begin to gradually realize that we seem to have a chess player in our family.

In the plane next to me, my mother and her 10-year-old son sat and told the child:

Remember, you run to your dad first, and then to your dog.

I go to my car at the TC parking lot. I see the phone rolling.

I think, “Here’s how you can be so dumb-handed to lose your phone!”

I raise him. Oh, this is mine...

I have a friend who knows the internet. The grandson put him in OK, well, the grandfather is actively communicating there.

So the grandson did - changed the password to OK, and when the grandfather could not go there, told him that they were hacked and you need to pay hard to save the account and go there again. He took the money, allegedly went to the bank and paid. Then I told my grandfather a new password. Four times in six months.

Grandfather suspected the wrong thing, called my husband to find out, well he explained everything to him that you should not pay for the hacking of money. He gave his grandfather a new password and advised his grandson not to report it.

It would be a pity for such a deceased granddaughter...

As strange as it may be, but usually the talk of cleanliness is when they water each other with dirt.

North of Italy. One of the towns near Lake Garda, which there are dozens.

I walk around the center, walk, look at pizzerias, gelateries and other local food. The trouble is not tea.

Suddenly from beyond the corner, a young guy in a shirt-uniform jumps out on me, uncovers a folder before me and begins to tell me something and sometimes shows me a thick finger in the folder, accompanied by epithetics such as "solo", "perfect" etc.

Since my knowledge of Italian begins and ends with "Lascha mi cantare", I have to interrupt his flaming speech with my signature "Aim sorri, ma italiano".

Apparently ready for such a development of events, a guy in good English charged me in response "Oh! Don Spike is an Italian. Is it okay, werner ar yuv fraom?“Tell me where I’m from.

and Israel

of Israel?! to

and Israel

In our mini-dialogue decides to intervene, standing a few meters away from us, in the same shirt-uniform, (apparently) a colleague guy (and unexpectedly in Russian):

and max! It is useless! Go here, don’t waste your time.

(Max is in charge)

and Maax!

(Max is out of place):

What is?

Go here and I will tell you until he has sold you something.

“Ah, (turning to me) HEVE E NESS DEI SER, SHALOM!

You don’t have to get sick, sir. – I’m determined to morally get a guy.

A year ago, the phrase "Kokorin gave the transmission to Mamayev" had a very different meaning.

At 10 a.m. I asked my wife:

Would you eat?

answered :

No, I do not want.

It is 8 p.m. and I ask you:

Will we eat?

I heard the answer:

You do not want it!

Just a phenomenal memory.

Only in Russia defective managers are called effective managers.

There is an Anglo-American School (AAS) in Moscow. The same one that our Ministry of Foreign Affairs is pressing now, not allowing its teachers on diplomatic passports to enter Russia. The children of employees of the respective embassies are taught there on English and American programs, as well as, on a commercial basis, all those who wish.
And it happened to me almost at the same time to give private lessons to several Russian children who studied there. First, I explained to them how everything they passed there would be in Russian (because no one freed them from the then OGE/EGE analogues, and school knowledge is sometimes needed in life) in English. And secondly, they wanted to raise their high level of knowledge, which AAS gave, to the highest, since each of them had already set as their goal to enter a specific British or American university, the level of which began with the London School of Economics. By the way, they all achieved their goals.
But there was a guy among them, let’s call him, Petya, absolutely calm, capable, hardworking. He himself, by the way, asked to teach him to perform school work with an adjustment to the personal qualities of teachers. And he and I successfully used the fact, for example, that the natural science teacher was a chemist rather than a physicist, and proud of his Scottish origins. Well, Petya, inventing secondary factors affecting the pressure in the gas, wrote about the possibility of chemical reactions and about the fact that in the valleys in the Scottish mountains, which are the Highlands, the wind blows, and the pressure at the same time decreases. The teacher was happy and put A+.
Peter was a patriot. He made a firm decision to enter the Russian university and then continue his career in Russia. He said, “There is a lot of nonsense in our country. A lot of nonsense. Must be corrected.”
Initially I went to MGIMO. I tried cautiously to hint that in MGIMO “strangers don’t go.” But Petya, with the support of his parents, simply decided to enter paid preparatory courses, thus becoming "his own" for some amount of money.
However, there was an unexpected problem. Petya was "falled" at the entrance exam in English. Introductory to courses where he was still going to prepare and prepare for admission! A man who from the first class taught all subjects in English, communicating in school only on it, and passed all the Russian school exams on him to the highest score! Strangers, in short, do not go there.
After that, I met Petya and asked how impressions.
“Naturally,” he replied, “all the nonsense was just a little more than I initially expected.”
He entered the Russian university. A little more famous and a little less muddy than MGIMO. He successfully completed it.

In the place of Erundy, I would have thought about my behavior. She began to press school.

Where are you serving?
I work at the FSB.
Tell me something interesting!
About you or about yourself?

My sister forgot my bag at home. In the evening, the same day, she calls, asking her to dictate the CVC code from one of the cards in her wallet. I opened her wallet, and there was a picture of some unknown man in the shape of a prosecutor. When asked who she was, and when to wait for the invitation to the wedding, she replied, "No. I found and printed a random photo on the Internet. Once in the bus my bag has already been cut and the wallet pulled out, and so - the thief is even nervous let. He will come back, as if he had found it somewhere. I left my phone number in my neighbor’s pocket.”

I think now on the carpet at the entrance to the apartment also the prosecutor will be glued.

History is real. A distant brother of his wife came to his acquaintance for a few days. They accepted well that he even decided to stay, but my friend suspected something wrong. It turned out that it was her lover, lived with them about a month!

He went out with his brother.

I come home from work.

I opened the door, and I was brought by a younger daughter who was alone in the apartment.

My eyes are red, tears flow.

He runs to me and begins to roar, I am in shock, amid the adornments I hear:

“Ic... Some uncles came here... They were in black...Ic...”

I’m already thinking about calling the police, thinking about who it might be.

The creditors? I did not take loans. Just thieves? Brad, we live on the fifth floor, is not the most appetizing destination.

Finally I ask, “And what did they do? “”

They stole a piece of your cake.

How did she think of that, right?

This story was told to me yesterday by my friend Anton, I publish it with his permission.

He built his house five years ago. When it came to the hole, he decided to “give up” to professionals. Called, agreed, came. cool guys, all the bulk - excavator, crane-board, g / b rings and pipes in the set. They did everything quickly and turned away.

Further construction and other mutations extended for two years. And now it is time to install the sanitary, give water, check - everything works, beauty! and. In the evening, after a hard day, he decided to wash, and the water did not go away. He cried, tried and spit, and said that the morning was wiser than the evening. The next day I bought two wires (for a verruche) and tried in vain to clean the fence - it is stuck and it's all here. The water seems to go away, but it is quite dull, without a fire. So another day and another day passed and a bunch of Crot was poured "in the tube" and the result was zero!

In the end, a decision was made - we will dig!

Our homeowner gave the job to the finisher to figure out what it was and find the hole, opening the ground from the house to the side of the hole, and he left. Next Anton - A, finisher - About the whole day "on the phone":

A: What is there for you?

I know it, I’m digging it!

And so once per hour.

Suddenly a contact! The officer himself called:

A: I’m digging I’m digging, I’ve almost reached the pit and here’s the heracle – the pipe is over!

To be honest, I was even dumb at first. Where is the tube? And here it came to me! The new tubes were not enough! And they didn’t bother to grind everything as it was. Go into the hole, it is dry, and there is no hole for the pipe!

This is a lesson for all of us, comrades. Check the money without leaving the box.

My friend! Tag of mine)

I went to a military and sports ammunition store. What is not there. Half of the shop is clothes. When I was a student and dreamed of traveling, this was impossible to imagine. The size is very large, above average height. I see very nice pants. In the appearance of a classic, excellent material, very dense, you just can't break it. And the main color is decent, very discreet. I see my size. I take it in my hands and pretend to myself. The seller approaches and says: They are women. I answer as I know, but my wife is also a man. In short, I bought it, I’ve been going for three days. Everyone liked it. Especially my wife. He says that at least once in his life he bought himself decent clothes.