In Moscow, a driver was fined for the fact that the shadow of his car crossed a steady lane
The man has filed a complaint with the GIBDD and is waiting for an answer.

The commentary:
Action from GIBD!!! With the number 666 your car will have no shadow and no reflection in the mirror!!! The price is contractual.

@booka3oid: How can you believe the programming announcements after the year 2000 has come and everyone is alive?

In our company employees work on "thin" customers. The company is large and we are really far apart from each other.
XXX: What can I do to help?
<I don't know, but by the voice I recognize a woman from the engineering service>
YYY: Come quickly to me – I have the ghost of Father Hamlet on the screen.
XXX O_0 What? What are you on the screen?
Yyy: I have the ghost of Father Hamlet on the screen. I cannot explain. Come to me urgently.
XXX: What is happening to you? What window came out with the picture?
YYY: I’m having transparency!
X: Can you correctly describe it? I’m willing to help you, but I don’t understand what’s wrong with you. Do you see the desk?
YYY: I can’t see it! My skeleton is hanging. If you don’t help me now, I’ll complain to the boss. What is? It is impossible to work!? to
xxx: then I will come to you now with my boss and you will express your claims to him. Let’s also look at your "skeleton".
Yyyy (maybe I forgot what I said): What does my skeleton have to do with it? Do not insult me!
<the process of the program depends and only the frame remains from the window>

You know, in horror films for intimidation they carry a bloody hand on the wall.
So I went to a motorcycle festival.
And the next day after the rock concert went to the bio-toilet, near the stage.
Going in and sitting. Looking around, I noticed the same footprint on the wall from the hand, but it was not blood.
It was terrible, a triangle.

Aviation Forum, a topic about journalists who don’t understand aviation

s.shurf> "Liner A320 blocked the runway at Simferopol airport" - in the photo of TU-134!
s.shurf> It’s already fixed... it’s pleasant :) (the screen of the updated article, now there’s an A-320 on the backdrop of the middle strip bars)
lopast56> Well if you go further, it’s not Simferopol. :D
old_zanuda> mdaaa, go, I’ve taken someone else’s nick... :D ;)

Working in the cell phone salon you can see a lot. Starting from the hobbits, wishing to change the new iPhone to a handful of seeds and a liter of light unfiltered, and ending with female hysterics, disgusting the unworking simka, which later turns out to be incorrectly inserted. We have already settled with those personalities who increase RAM by buying a flash card and glue the screen with a scotch in order to preserve the integrity of the device. Today came a man who made us laugh genuinely and even cry at some point about what happened. His phone had a blind function (when several touches are required to perform the function and the device sounds the owner’s action). So he had this feature worked in German... from the side there was the impression that Satan had entered the phone and cursed you. The specialist for a long time tried to drive out the unknown creature despite the threats sounding from the whispering speaker, and passers began to pass by the salon faster. After a certain amount of time the devil was expelled, and the man found freedom over the mind, thanked and rushed happily to get lost in the crowd.

was long ago. There were no mobile phones or internet at the time. He lived in a small provincial (this is important) town. Close to lunch on Sunday called friends, whom I did not see a long time ago (lived in five hundred km from each other), say, say, we are going from Peter to Moscow by car and we can jump to you. The town is close to the M-10 road. Of course, I say, fly, I wait. They jumped. They hugged and kicked each other’s back. And not immediately in the eyebrows, but in the eye - long time not seen, you have to bump! I get off, I say, to work early in the morning. You can get a cake with a cupcake for a meeting. In response, you are CHO! We’re all going to work (as usual) tomorrow. And the cookies are not brutal.)

They sat and drank. The end of the evening I don’t remember at all)) I woke up in the morning, head bo-bo, but it didn’t warn me. Apartment is foreign. Someone's living room, a chic bed with a length of kirkorov, half-dark from the window through thorough curtains, side-by-side strange stranger madam gently snooped with a bump. Friends are on the floor. Oh oh oh oh! It’s half seven, and I don’t even know which part of our glorious town I’m in. Convulsively pretending that by running from any area of the city in 20 minutes to home I will be able to change clothes already. I bow to the window, open the curtains to almost pretend to be where I am. I see a wide prospect and two directions of tram routes. Honestly, she is loved. The house was just over a hundred and thirty kilometers away.

And in the back a loud voice - Don't argue, your idea was.

There is no spell, that is a fact. I was convinced by personal experience. The story is, I’ve been buying the same type of beer for a long time. As everyone knows, now the covers are twisted, they do not need to be opened with an opening.

I opened them by turning. The last time I bought a package of this beer, I sat with my friends and opened my bottle with the usual movement, and then I noticed that the others were opening the bottles with the key. As it turned out, the cover was not reverse, but ordinary. I could no longer open the next bottle, only scratched my fingers and checked the cover a little.

These are things.

I used to think that the worst bicycle cameras are made in India, but the camera with the inscriptions "Voronezh", "1 variety" pleasantly surprised me...

No, it’s exactly time for you to enter the "Facebook" button at "Get".
Even better, the age price for storytelling.
Better one and the other.

I want a golden retriever. But there is money only for gold staphylococcus.

The South resort. A rich fruit ruin in the middle of the street. A sleepy seller drives away the flies. On the other side of the wooden shelf the buyer stands (judging by the sunburn, the second day on vacation) and carefully studies the price lists. Then he says:
You know, I’m from Siberia. We have not grown all of this. It is cheaper"

Traditionally, the wedding is paid by the parents of the bride, let Dad and Mom go for a million.

The shield? Where are these traditions? As far as I can remember, in the Volga, it was always done in a fold on both sides. Per you also have the bridegroom paid, and the cow is given in cash, only to make the daughter?

About twenty years ago I obtained the rights, bought an old lady-machine and began to use it to master the city prospects.

And here I notice on the panel some new unclear thing. My husband explained that it was synchroproton. I became a borzo. What else "U" is not broken from the glass, and who has seen that I am chasing. And that in the evenings through this synchoprotone he will see if the speed exceeded. And if she exceeded, she takes the keys and the driving career ends.

The next day I didn’t take my eyes off the spidometer. Exceeded once by 5 km. The Internet was not so widely available in ancient times. How to twist the testimony of this stupid synchro... I didn’t know. I went to the main mechanic of the organization in which I worked. Explain the essence of the problem. He listened, looked at the synchoprotone and advised immediately to confess. The testimony is impossible.

I was afraid to go home! She repented before her husband and promised not to do so again. When she told me that she went to the mechanic, her husband could not withstand and rattled to tears.

It was a tumble for switching the heating of the seats. Cognac was handed over to the mechanic in a sign of men’s solidarity.

My husband and I have a wedding anniversary (seven years), we went to the neighboring city on this occasion for a weekend. In the center there is a wedding procession - well, as in the internet scares for single men: a messy appearance of the bridegroom, a slightly pregnant bride in a dress-cake, a aunt and a maid who clung to the wall...

My husband is thinking:

By the way! Why didn’t you convince me about that? Or my young colleagues ask me how it is in family life, and I have nothing to tell, have scheduled and continue to live!

Dear, I don’t know what? Why does contextual advertising give me a child’s wheelchair?

If you think about it, the story of the left is not impressive at all, even the opposite:
The English made the finest mechanism - a dancing flea. And only 50 years later the Russians made a retaliatory move - knocked a nail into it.

xxx: We were also attempted to be forced to go to the report to the chief doctor in smooth clothes. Daily contact with patients. Until some outgoing official whispered: "Something you have resuscitators look too civilian. I sleep at night" And our slaves left behind.

My father was a scientist. A regular researcher with a Ph.D. degree, who spent about 70% of his working time on crosswords and smoking with colleagues and dreamed of great deeds.

My mother was a female patriarchal woman and told the children, “Don’t make noise, Daddy is tired!”

In general, my brother and I wanted to be like a dad so that the whole family would take care of us. And here, fucking, I am a girl, I can’t get tired of principle! Only men are tired.

He lost his leg in an accident a year ago. The biggest support from which it really gets easier is from my dog (the Labrador). Since then, every time we walk, she bends one leg (periodically changing to another) and goes on three, so that I am not offended.