The son told. I’m sitting with my friends at the cafe in the evening. Those who smoke, those who only smoke. Suits a man strongly in support, begins a conversation for life. I wanted to talk, apparently. He stands next to and offers something, and even Gosha from time to time pulls his sleeve, listen, say. After some time, Goshe got tired of it, he said something to him almost to his ear, he sneezed and decidedly headed toward the road. Come to the sign of the pedestrian crossing and let it roll and pin.

The haishniki, who guarded on the opposite side of the street, were so upset by such greed, but quickly confounded and bound the hero.

We then asked Gosh what he said to him. Yes, he got me so, says, I see - mints like, well, and sent him to them closer:

- We argue on the bubble, you will not break the mark!

At the end of the last century I worked at a factory in a shop and was sent to find out something at the Department of the Chief Metallurgist. I go into one office, I ask, I am answered: "This is Petrovich doing, go to the office number 25". Hm, I think somehow without a name to a man directed, strange, okay. I go in at 25 and say, “I need Petrovich.” Tired of breathing, one of the women responds:

Not “needed” but “needed”. Nina Ivanovna Petrovich is me.

I don’t remember the exact name, but the name surprised me for a long time.

When I was a child, I liked shrimp, such puffy and puffy, those still sweet. I don’t remember this anymore, but my mom says that I decided to chew one of these... naturally, the hammer heroically wrapped the straw into the child’s palm.

The hand began to swell rapidly. They were out of town and did not take allergy pills with them, decided to resort to a saline solution, divided it in a litre bowl and told them to hold their hand in it for half an hour.

In general, the hand swelled so that it was not possible to remove it from the bank, so they went to the city, where they saved me with a suprastin pill.

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.

I work as a psychologist.

I regularly receive strange requests from friends and relatives.

Recently, a former classmate approached her and asked her to sit with her mother for two weeks while she was on vacation.

When asked why she decided to turn to me, she replied that psychologists like to help people for free, and her mother has already made three suicide attempts this year, so she would not hinder communicating with a specialist.

In thanksgiving, she promised to go on a date with me when I arrived.

I am married, she is divorced, three children and about 120 kg of net weight.

I refused, I thought a lot.

A good man is like a fertile soil: whatever you throw - love, care, respect, trust... - all will return full and more with a generous harvest.
The foolish is like a pipe hole: whatever you do not throw into it will rot and stink.

A veteran of the sea.

It was a very tired ship. His machts, cargo arrows, and his body seemed to say, “I’m old! Why do I continue to be tortured and forced to crawl from one port to another?“!”
In the ship itself, despite the consequences of numerous repairs and modernizations, it was still possible to guess the original silhouette of the legendary "Liberty" - the most mass transportation of World War II. At one time, U.S. shipyards made these steamers an incredible number, bringing the total production of all types of such vessels to three units per day by the middle of the war. The quality of the swiftly made ships was disgusting, especially in the early series. In essence, the Liberty type steam, officially designed for five years of operation, was single-use and paid off its construction in the first flight across the Atlantic, delivering its "land leasing" cargo from America to Europe.
It was even more surprising to find such a historic specimen in the suburban Caribbean port at the very beginning of the twentieth century.

Under his steam ship was his captain-mechanic: the daughter of the burning fat man of early retirement age in shorts, a souvenir captain's feather and shorts on the "boss foot". He introduced himself to Victor and told us his story.
In the distant eighties some year Vitya worked as a mechanic on this, the Soviet ship. Capitalism, which began in Russia, picked up an old steam boat and dropped it with the crew into the hands of a new shipowner from Greece. Gradually, the crew on the ship changed, becoming more and more international. Victor, as the only remaining specialist who thoroughly knew the device of the rare ship, the new owner did not want to let go.
As soon as the last remaining Russian sailor rushed to write off to the shore, he was immediately doubled his salary and he remained on the steam boat for another six months. The ship changed owners, countries of registration and ports of assignment, but not mechanics. At some point Vitya realized that Leningrad has long been St. Petersburg, and no one is waiting for him at home. His wife divorced him, his daughter grew up and got married to an Italian.
Without regular docking and major repairs, the once proud "Liberty" rapidly stumbled and stopped allowing it: first to decent ports, and then to almost all the others.
Cabotage flights in the Caribbean Sea are not as profitable as transatlantic, so the next shipowner, realizing the irreplaceability of his ship mechanic, decided not to pay him a salary, but took a share, making him his partner.
Having obtained the rights of the owner, Vitya reduced another expensive position on the ship - the captain, and, having assigned these duties to himself, moved to his cabin. “It’s still good,” he added to his story, “that we don’t have to go to civilized ports, and in these tropical suburbs, where we are ‘cabaret’, the local authorities do not have the habit of carefully conducting ship documents.”

After finishing his narrative, the old sailor took a bundle of keys from his pocket and, showing them, said: “These are the keys from my apartment in Petrogradka. I don't know what's there now."Then he breathed hard and asked, "How do you think I'll ever be there again?"

As soon as the extreme senses say that they can predict the future, immediately write to him in a row, do not worry, the extreme senses have foreseen it and will turn away, and if they do not turn away, then what charlatans to regret.

I have a good acquaintance, a doctor.

And she has a problem - she can't pick up a phone - everyone's battery is weak. The tariffs of the operators, too. All is expensive...

The other day I called, we spoke for 20 minutes, and then suddenly... the connection broke! Recruited it a couple of times - the subscriber is not a subscriber. Well, of course, again the battery village. In 10 minutes I called again - if I don't call again, I'll be offended. At the time, the phone had to be charged. No, the phone is still off.

It was another 10 minutes. I recruited again. turned off again.

Okay, I did my business. After 40 minutes, a call. from the doctor.

Have I been missing for a long time?

40 minutes ago...

I tell you, I tell you. You are silent... I thought, what an attentive listener, with what interest he is listening! Suddenly I decided to look at the time on the phone - and it is turned off! I just put it on charge!

Probably a very fascinating story, if she told me it for 40 minutes on the phone...

My son is about 13. A year ago, he decided to clean the balcony from unnecessary garbage, and at the same time to teach his son to quite legal ways of earning. I installed a local advertising board app on his phone. He showed how to use, explained that in order to have more chances to sell, he described in detail and attached more photos from different angles to the ad. He agreed to keep all the money he received. He has to do all the negotiations on his own. During the following several months, bicycles, old sanitary equipment, dead phones, self-driving cars, plugs and so on were sold. He told his wife not to touch his son or money in any case. For the money he collected, he chose a new phone for himself, and safely bought it, adding a little money from birthday gifts. As a result, he learned to talk and explain to foreign adults some details about the things sold. He gave him a sense of ownership that what he earned was his own. He decides how to spend that money. He instilled the power of will to save money, rather than run away and spend immediately on all sorts of nonsense. Release the balcony.

I sit next to the garage and smoke. Next to his car, a neighbor digs up.For instance, he does it constantly, regardless of whether it is broken or not. He loves engineering, he loves engineering. There are three bombs. Two faces, pressed to the chest, carry iron batteries. Behind them, with a careless view and with two long tubes in their hands, a third shakes out. Men walk slowly, periodically loudly staring under their nose.Fuck, we are late! Twenty minutes left! (Visibly before the closure of the metal reception point, which is further along the road)", - hurries them a friend from behind. They hide him and hide him further. The neighbor, seeing all this action, silently stops them and asks to put the batteries on the ground. After that, he takes one pipe from their third companion and moves it through the sections of two batteries, making for them a kind of "pipe". The men thank, throw all this weaponry on their shoulders and continue their way a little, almost a run. I should have seen their faces.

I had a friend, a circus, aerial gymnast.

One day after the end of the show, when the audience usually approaches to take an autograph, get acquainted or just say thank you, a woman with a little daughter approached and, after expressing admiration and gratitude, asked: "And we were in a city a couple of months ago, at the performance of your circus, and you performed there in a white swimsuit, made of tape. We liked him so much! You’re in black, why?”

I see, the gymnast was a little confused, thought, and then began to explain:

"You understand, the concept of the number has changed a little, it has become more tragic, black better emphasizes the mood. We even let the music slow down a little to express it. And then, in this circus, the light is set a little differently, white would not look like this!

When the woman, satisfied with the conversation, left, I heard light laughter from the circus, friends of the gymnast. He turned to them:

“Well, you think, I’ve gotten a little better, I don’t get into my old swimsuit! I will lose weight!”

The further people depart from animals, the more they become similar to them.

I recently got a cat, Maine Coon. Healthy such a cat with brushes on the ears, a born hunter. The red cat, serious, the sheriff I called him. I live in a private house, in a sufficiently warm climate, in such a way that the cockroaches here are street insects.

Nevertheless, the cockroaches love to fly home. And once they flood, they no longer leave there themselves.

So, my newly acquired cat has done them genocide.

Turtles are not very afraid of people, because they move much sharper than us. By the way, if desired, they can fly, but this desire does not often arise in them. And not to escape from people - they are just lazy to escape from us.

But this is a different thing with the cat, I observed it thoroughly.

At first, the Sheriff was shy and did not go anywhere beyond the first floor, and at the first he was more and more hiding under the washing machine. Then he mastered, dared and took on the cockroaches. They did not immediately figure out who they were dealing with, first tried to escape. ha ha! When he hit their hordes by the edak three times, they began to try to fly away from him. God helps them. My ceilings are low, two and a half meters, and the Maine Coon jumps one and a half meters away.

The cockroaches ended up on the first floor very quickly, and the defects fled to the second, where the bedrooms. Previously, they did not get there, I even had time to be upset by their invasion, but not very strongly and not very long.

The Sheriff has a special love for cockroaches. No, he also catches flies, but without enthusiasm, but cockroaches are passion. Therefore, convinced that the cockroaches were finished on the first floor, he stumbled onto the second. Here the ultimate star almost arrived.

The cockroaches move quietly, you will not hear them at night. But the sheriff is not obsessed with such nonsense. That is, going out for hunting, he also does not make any noise, but when he catches the victim, it sounds like this: "shshsh-sh-sh-bdm, urrr!..." Bdm, it’s a jump, and urrr, it’s already when the cockroach is in his legs.

He took them all out on the second floor, and then walked a few days unhappy again, until he discovered the presence of a loft with a billiard table. This is where the real disco began, and late at night.

The scene is like this – I sleep peacefully, suddenly I hear “ba-ba!!!” I wake up in a cold sweat – what? Where is? is incomprehensible. Here is the “ba-ba!” from above. I run to the roof - the sheriff is on the table, two billiard balls roll on the floor, and between the sheriff's legs the last is sick. And Edak proudly looks at me, saying, “See, master?”

Now the house is sterile. The sheriff sits down the first floor again sadly, breathes up and asks his bullshit, "When will we hunt again, right?"

Lukashenko calls Putin:
Why don’t you congratulate me on winning the election?
You have not counted the votes yet.
Do you think you have your voice?

At the beginning of the zero in our village was a place by the name of Ubeykobila. And in the district, at the time still the militia, sent a new chief with the name Ubeykon.

When they met, they fought, because each thought the other would follow.

No one harms the independence and unity of a country as a flock of idiots who have declared themselves true patriots.

In the Caucasus, it is not acceptable for a young man to smite an old man. For insulting an elderly person will then have to answer before his children (many), grandchildren (many), friends of children and grandchildren, peasants and friends of the elderly (many), before their children, grandchildren and friends (many). This applies to all elderly people, including guests in the Caucasus. You can guess how the hamster ends there.

Today I watched debils on Sochi beach, who came to the resort from Zasransk with their Saransk culture. Deciding to expand their space for rest, they began to ham and push out of the shadow of the elderly neighbors. The old women did not conflict, moved away, and then quietly left the beach. But at the exit of the "winners" met and conducted, holding under the pen, the children (a little over 30) of the owners of the house, where the old women stopped. No one has seen this company of Zadar tourists on this beach. And somehow not sad. And the elderly come to their favorite place in the shadow.

Sometimes it is necessary to stop the wheel and walk the wheel.

If you are smart in the minority, you are stupid in the majority. Who can they vote for in fair elections?