I thought I had a good imagination, but this is the third day I have been tormented trying to imagine how Sergey Pavlovich Korolev says, "Let's write our missiles under the shell."

My 8 year old son and I were in the car. He started to go to karate classes. I see, next to the track is a huge billboard with MMA type advertising for the weekend spectacular battles and so on. I think I’ll propose to my son, let’s go and see how the adult uncles make meat from mercantial interests to each other. Grush, say my son! Maybe go to battle? Internal is! The child makes round eyes of horror - Daddy! I will be beaten there!

A few years ago, her wife went to the United States, where her longtime friend, who had already emigrated fifteen years before that, lives. There she was able to fit into the local life, has two own cafes. He works day and night, but lives well and needs nothing. Before leaving, she was asked what to bring from home, what she missed. I still remember the answer. Bring two belts of dog wool and a kilogram of seeds.

I got a cold and my throat got sick. I come home from work and complain to my husband.

The throat hurts simply.

I know it will definitely help you! (Note on the mine)

I am joking:

It won’t help, I’ve tried it already.

What is?

What is?

I work in the Mac, today came the courier, said he brought a scrap, said the package for McDonalds, sign up. The manager did not know that something should come, but since it was not necessary to pay anything, and there was no time to deal with it, it was scheduled, the scrap was taken. Suddenly, in a couple of hours, an Englishman comes, speaks only English, and explains:

Some idiot brought my package to you, and showed a passport, named Desmond McDonalds. Everything came to its place, the courier saw the word McDonalds and then he thought about it himself...He helped to move the dishwasher, talked a little about the situation, laughed and said goodbye.

It was 2013, we and the Koreans graduated from the universities and started actively looking for work. They were quite friendly: by joint efforts to compile a resume and support for test tasks, we managed to arrange almost all of us. Almost almost. We had a friend of Kolyan, in joint discussions about what was needed in the resume, and what was not necessary, took an active part, but could not find a job. I have to say that the guy was not stupid, and the portfolio of any of the educational projects he had, but more than 4 months - silence, one refusal. As a result, I asked in the department of personnel for Kolyan, asked to drop the resume, scratched the whole department, and then friends - this idiot "business" email was: "govno.strausa@....."

I remembered when I was a child after the end of the school week, the whole day on the street, sands, hills, snow, fortress was built. Then the snow fell in the winter - not that the fortress, the castle could be built. They lived on the first floor, the snow fell so much that the swarm in the palace building in front of the windows half closed the window (although there were also snowmen throwing the snow, so it was not shameless).

Half Friday, all Saturday My shoes were wet, I ran home, changed my wet socks, put my bags on my feet, then my wet shoes and back on the street.

And on Sunday a strong storm, I had to sit at home. I took my favorite book (Cortis and the Bronze Bird, scattered, without a cover, still lying in the warehouse), read, overwhelmed by the upcoming study. I didn’t have time to read, my mom went to sleep.

In the morning they wake me up, in the apartment it is dark, behind the window, in the kitchen the watermelon boils. On the kitchen window glass - frozen ice, the curtain froze to it. The windows are old, Soviet, with wooden frames, scaly. I don’t want to go anywhere, especially to school. I eat breakfast, dress up and my dad takes me to school. Through the buran, the newly formed swarms, along the freshly submerged paths.

We approach the school, crawl into the bowl, which was opened and it was covered with snow so that it will not be possible to open wide. We climb the doorstep and here I notice that the school is suspiciously dark - no window is burning. Dad shuts the door – it’s closed. On the window next to the door is a sheet of paper. Influenza in quarantine for a week. At that moment, I forgot about the melt and the cold.

He ran the way back, dragging his dad after him and breaking through the swamps, like breaking the Antarctic ice. I came home, the parent went to work, I walked through the frost of sleep in neither eye, poured hot tea with a lemon, wrapped in a puddle, turned on the torcher and began to read yesterday's book, the cat lay in her legs.

And this is probably the best moment in my life. I still sometimes dream: I sit in the heat, drink a delicious tea (why hot tea is always unusually delicious when you come from the cold? I read a good book, the apartment is dark, only a circle of light from the torch. And the snow on the glass shells. No need to go anywhere, no worries, no sadness at all.

The girl told

Last year, her colleague was invited to work at Google with a relocation. She, not thinking long, grabbed things and went to a better life.

Soon there was a coward and the associated self-incarceration.

Then the Negro

Recently, she decided that it was enough, and once Google gave the right to the distance - you can drop into some quiet, quiet country...

The choice fell on Belarus.

XXX: They also look like me.

All these dances with the stars that dance with each other so that they can be looked at and admired.

- all these political shows where they meet and discuss someone or something with important fuckers some experts

- all these let's get married (let's chat, let's talk) where the elderly aunt-leaders talk to some aunt for some man

- all these medical transmissions where they teach to shave properly and cut off the sweater of some aunt from the hall, and conduct such transmissions old card allegedly "doctors" in white coats

- all these degenerative series "universes", "schools", "happy together", "swatts", "voronins", "other kinds of nines" where 35-year-old people calling themselves actors try to make themselves 14-15-year-old schoolchildren

- all these mental series about good menta who in spite of bad life remained good people, but sometimes use dirty methods in their work

- all these series as a parody for mentally retarded who are filmed on the basis of foreign well-successful projects (Clinic, Doctor House, Emergency), but with the help of curved and unskilled strawberries comes out only fecal masses (internal and other hunting)

About the house 2, behind the glass, I don’t want to talk at all.



95% of the time spent on each channel.



Discovery, Animal Channel and National Geographic



YYYYYYYYYYYYY! Ludk, see an intellectual!

xxx: reminded me how I came to practice, to the design department, there just put new comps with Corel, in the department the grandfathers were sitting behind the highlights - drawn on the "boxes". I was engaged in transferring their drawings to a figure for the archive, when the boss came in and asked to change the scale of one drawing, a couple of clicks and the mouse movement and scale changed, he then barely got off the chair... I thought he would run out of the office with screams - "magic, sorcery!"

YYY: And what next?

I was burned in the fire.)

One time, my husband and I left the car on an intercepting parking lot near the subway. In the winter, the snow is immeasurable, around the parking lot is almost in human height.

One morning, he forgot to turn off the light. In the evening, the battery is down to zero. As it happened, in the nearest cars no one, but the husband, running through the parking lot, agreed with the guy who just arrived on a small car. I don’t remember Mark, but something like Mattis.

A man asks him how much he owes. Our Savior just walked away:

Don’t worry, you’ll help me someday.

Sitting in the car, we warm up and see: Matiz tries to park and in the back enters the swarm deadly, and also sits "on the pool". The Books.

We get out of the car at the same time with the guy, and he goes to us:

It seems that “someday” has already arrived :)

We cling to the wire and pull Matiz out of the snow captivity.

The beginning of a new shift often coincides with the fact that the caller gets, gently speaking, not the most friendly. This informal tradition did not pass this morning.

D: The ambulance service.

Q: I would like to complain about another manager! What she allows herself!

D: What happened?

She called me a woman! How is it possible! I will force your management to answer for this! The hamsters!

He dropped the phone...

It’s always interesting to know what’s going on in your head when you complain about it.

Not touched. It is cheap.

At the refuelling station, it throws fuel "140 merins" relentlessly. Beautiful, black and predatory. The paint coating shines loud and corrupt, it does not see even the wind and the brushes of the car. Apparently the car was washed carefully and only manually. Next to him is a very adult man in a dark gray suit and a black badle. Having filled, the man carefully wipes the block with a white cloth, turns and closes the loop.

The next car looks like a girl.
You are so careful. It is pleasant to watch.
There is a young man right now. She is him:
Look at the man watching the car. Not dust or scratches.
The guy touches the car, respectfully pointing his thumb:
and Ogo. Excellent condition. Driving too little?
A man wipes his shoes with a cloth, pressing his shoulders:
Well yes. So it happened. I didn’t drive for ten years, then five more.

How was he called there? The multicast? The Hyperloop?
and Polycarp.
and exactly.

The year was 2013, my son is about six months old. Her wife had a tooth disease, and she decided to go to the dentist, her native aunt. Well, I decided to take her by car, it is good to go far and very uncomfortable. They put the child in a child’s chair and went. With sin half parked, the wife jumped to treat the tooth. I was prepared to wait. The child in the car sleeps sweetly, the windows are slightly toned.

After 20 minutes of waiting I got tired, I got out of the car to smoke. The car, by the way, is a huge UAZ Patriot. And I am also not small, 120 kg and 187 cm tall. Unbroken, and in the skin. The souvenir is another.

And here, I am standing next to the car and smoking myself, trying to see the child through the toning. At some point, I realize that the child is waking up. Young parents will understand my despair – if it wakes up, then both.

I stand and smoke.

And at some point, seeing all this ugliness, I take the railing on the roof, and I start to drive the car. To let the child fall asleep.

I crawl, crawl, the child asleep back. And I smoke, the second already, or the third, and it's okay.

Suddenly, behind my back, an echoing voice says, “Sorry, what are you doing?”

I turn around and see two ments, one officer, the other with a machine machine. They both look at me badly.

And here I look at the situation from the side - there is a healthy man, and the car is shaking. Not good somehow...

I had to show the starley a sleeping child, he penetrated, even eaten stood.

But it was uncomfortable.

We sit yesterday with our wife and remember who did what he did when he was a child.

I: “I remember fireworks under the bed warm. Mommy saw and gave the belt.

The woman said, “It’s all shit! Here I cut a piece of linoleum with a knife in the middle of the corridor to ride a hill. The father comes, and a hole in the corridor.

The invention of mine...)

Yesterday I stood at the box office in Lenta, sorry: in the yellow-blue shop with sunflower.

A row of 15 minutes, the car parked kilometers for 2, everything is filled. The cashier breaks the goods, I give a discount card and I get the price. I pulled the phone to pay and it became clear on my face that I had forgotten. I asked to postpone the package, but I will come not earlier than in 15 minutes, which the man behind me with his wife at the box office said that he will pay for my purchase, and I will transfer. He paid for 800+ rubles for my purchase, I took his number and came to the car and transferred the money. Even on the face of the cashier there was a slight shrinkage.

It was very warm in the soul! Not everyone in today’s reality will do that.

It was a long time ago, human greed was not yet out of the boundaries, and compassion for grief was natural. I knock at the door, I see the neighbors on the ground up, vanity what it is.

I open. Two daughters came, in tears, clothes trembling. They say, “Help, whoever can, to the funeral, our grandfather died!” A neighbor-grandmother on the venue slowly began to count the money in her wallet, saying, "Woe what! “”

I asked, “Which apartment?”

From the “59th”

I am standing, dumb, reading a familiar number.

I live on the first floor, apartments up to the 36th... I go further, in my head I think, so the second entrance, the sixth floor, the apartment to the right...

Bl... that! This is Serena’s apartment. A friend from his childhood, yesterday drunk beer with him in the park! He lives with his mother and has no one else. What kind of grandfather? All my childhood was running. "And the number of the apartment remembered only visually, while Serezha was wearing the socks under his pants! Here is the room at the door of the apartment and stumbled out of impatience.

Why the children number? Sixth floor, right, here is the full address! He briefly stopped the neighbor, telling the aunts that they should disappear for five minutes before the police arrived. They really evaporated faster... So I first encountered this kind of scam, and the grandmother of the neighbor was in shock.

The acquaintance shared. He drove to work last weekend in his wife's car (his car is in service), and she has a yellow Nissan March. The guy himself is quite strong and solid and looks a bit funny in such a car.

But to the case: I eat, he says, narrowing the road, the strip to the right of it ends and begins to crack it black X5, dull, without a turntable and without giving an advantage climbs right into its strip. The acquaintance decided not to change the trajectory of movement and speed, as a result of winged wings - an accident.

A young lady runs out of Bavaria and begins to shout wildly: you had to give in, what did you do, where you go, and so on. Comrade, understanding that there is no need to count on an adequate conversation and eureka, causes GIBDD.

A minute after twenty comes the row, the girl (D) immediately runs to the patrol car, begins to tell the employee (C) that she was just driving, and she was struck. The acquaintance (Z) also stood by and the following dialogue took place:

D: He hit me, I was just driving, I was right!

C: Here everything is clear about the location of the cars, of course you are right, the driver of the BMW should have given up to you when rebuilding. Are you a BMW driver? He addresses a acquaintance.

I was driving on March.