An interesting theory was presented today by my colleague.

He says, I try to please everyone at work. And always bad, and you, on the contrary, put on everyone, and always good. Why so? Your model of behavior for others looks like this: you never show initiative, you do not agree to work if it is not part of your responsibilities, and people get used to it. That is, people get used to the fact that this is your normal state. You are such. It is perceived as a given. And then you have helped someone in a good mood, and you are already good. And they remember exactly that. That is, you are normal, normal, and then good.

And I am the opposite. I try to please everyone. I do what I owe and what I do not. I refuse no one. People are accustomed to it. This is also the norm in my case. This is my normal state, and people don’t even pay attention to it. It is perceived as a given. This is my normal behavior. And then, suddenly, I refuse to help someone. A man is offending me. He condemns behind his back. I am bad. That is, there’s also – I’m normal, normal, and then bad.

Do you understand?

You are normal, normal, and then good.

I am normal, normal, and then bad.

This is exactly what they remember.

I listened to him. Yes, he’s overwhelmed, but in something he’s right.

It is no shame to be young and stupid. Old and stupid are not ashamed. It is a pity to be stupid only in the middle of life.

It was a long time. I didn’t have my family at the time, but it was enough.
And I was taken through India to the Andaman Islands. Yes, the same islands mentioned by A. Conan Doyle in his novel “The Sign of the Four.”
At first, the trip promised to be quite restless – landing at the airport of the capital of the islands Port Blair, inspecting the island, and then every few days moving between several of the largest islands by sea boat. Already during the flight from Calcutta to Port Blair, it became clear that something was going wrong. Suddenly a cyclone, unusual for these places at that time of year, shaken the poor plane so that it seemed to want to shake passengers out of it. There was a storm at sea, there were no boats, and in Port Blair we were stuck for an unknown period of time, taking into account the weather forecast, and hoping for the same sudden disappearance of the cyclone.
In a few days, we had time to learn a simple, but constantly thermonuclear Indian menu in local restaurants, to change several hotels, to use the island on auto rickshams along and across, to see the Andaman prison, to get under a tropical rain, and the cyclone never thought to leave. Once we were allowed to go into the sea by boat, but it was so swung and worn on the waves that the captain ordered us to return to the port.
The hotels were overwhelmed by the same stuck tourists as we were. We got to know each other, and we eventually developed a fairly varied company of Ukrainians, Armenians, Latvians, Hindus, Frenchmen and Germans. The Ukrainian, the Latvian and the Armenian communicated perfectly in Russian, the Hindu with everyone – in English, the French woman spotted only on her own, but she understood the Ukrainian, and the German broke out in English. The universe was transformed into a real bird’s market.
The Hindu turned out to be even the dwarf, and got to the reception with the Minister of Tourism of the Andaman Islands. He promised that the cyclone was left to burst for a couple or three days, so you should not leave their luxurious islands in any case. And while the boat does not go, you need to use a beautiful comfortable bus, which will take you to the north of the islands, where you will enjoy all the charms of this region, literally in some 11 hours of journey through the island jungles. Moreover, there are rarely tourists, and the almost virgin tropical region is at your disposal. He painted in our imagination wonderful captivating paintings: the uninhabited islands of Ross and Smith, connected with each other by a thin peak of land... absolutely virgin jungles... groves of mangrove trees... desert sandy beaches with palm trees hanging over golden sand...
The name of the end point of our journey – Diglipur – I remembered for a lifetime. 11 hours of shaking in the starting bus with no depreciation and rigid bars instead of seats turned my ass into a crush. The minister did not lie – there were no tourists even at the stage of boarding the bus. Only local intelligence.
The jungle was truly incredibly colourful, wild, untouched. The only thing that spoke about civilization was the road paved through them for a local bus. We were accompanied by the police on motorcycles, as the road lay across an island, banned from tourists. There is still a tribe that wears hip bandages, uses spies for hunting, and is panically afraid of cameras. It is absolutely impossible to put a camera on them - they are offended by their superstitions, they become very aggressive, attack the bus, and at the same time can hide jewelry and somehow red clothes. We saw them. A few people came out of the forest and stood looking at our bus, with spies in their hands, shining with little evil eyes. It was a surreal spectacle. It’s like a documentary movie showing behind the bus window. Eventually, it went without excesses.
Two times the bus had to be passed by ferry. All the passengers were discharged, and the old rugged ferry barely floating through the bay carried the bus first, and then returned for the passengers, because to ship all at once was equivalent to death for him.
At one of these crossings I wanted to go to the toilet, and I, as a shy girl, and already simply shaken by the indigenousness of the Hindus (the locals watched, ticked their fingers and discussed something all the time), sought to the only structure in my field of sight. Its architecture left no doubt why it was built, and I anticipated a few minutes of solitude.
And here in the very heart of the Andaman jungle, surrounded by island Hindu and mangrove groves, I experienced (as Mikhail Zadornov said) a sense of pride for our people!
On the wall of the toilet in Russian with huge printed letters a crumb was drawn JOPA MIRA

A person who thinks that 80% of the people around him are idiots and is outraged by this is a deeply unhappy person.
He who thinks that 80% of the idiots are around him and takes advantage of it is a rich and happy person.

We were at the guests of friends who recently just came together, we sat down, we ate dinner. The girl cooked delicious pigeons, the guy wraps behind both cheeks and says:

- Oh, what delicious pigeons, you finally learned to cook them, or last time they were - you won't break in your mouth!

Hi to you! The girl was upset, I’m actually cooking pigeons for you for the first time!

How is it? I don’t understand the guy, but who? Then he remembered that the unflavored pigeons were cooked by his ex and laughed confusedly.

The present, who perfectly understood his course of thought, looked closely at him for a few seconds, and suddenly laughed too. The man silenced and asked surprised:

What are you having fun with?

You laughed like my ex-husband.

We talked with a friend about funny and interesting names. She shared with me a case from her friend’s life by the name Blyn.

One day he was sent to a conference, at work, and after the official part, everyone who did not know each other sought to get to know. And here, approaching the next figure, A. Blin (abbreviated to the initials) extends his hand to introduce himself. The further dialogue:

Damn, it’s nice to meet you.

Oh my God! My friend said, I’ve been looking for you all my life. I. Skovorodka is very pleasant.

My sister told me.

She goes to bed, her husband has been shaking for an hour. The sister pulls a blanket on her, accidentally hits her husband, he doesn't wake up, begins to waver slightly and, through the dream, gives out:

Well, I’m telling you, not Alan.

My sister’s name is Alena. She was not illusoriously interested in what there is such a husband's beloved dream. She also knew that if you asked questions carefully and loudly, the spouse would answer without waking up.

And who am I? My sister asked stealing.

and Alena! My husband replied confidently.

What kind of alena? The most important question went on.

The husband still, not waking up, turned to the other side and said:

It is correct! He cried without responding to any questions anymore.

That kind of information has been lost...

In the past, fear prevented the truth about power, today it is the law.

In the bedroom with his wife found a painting with a pen on the wallpaper. tk. My daughter was 12 years old and the suspicion fell on her 5-year-old son. We call them two into the bedroom, when asked who did, the daughter naturally says: not me!
Small, looking at her, also goes to rejection, type not at all in business...
Two or three questions were not able to "split" the partisan.
Here the wife says, and what do we do with this cockroach on the wall?
This is a robot at all!! Oh...

Of all the religions, the Bolsheviks did not like Judaism the most.
What did you take?
They invented the Sabbath for the Jews. Not only is it necessary to work on this day, but also for free.

I am a leading tech engineer. Thanks to my grandmother, to whom I always go to the village, all the neighbors know about it. And I am pursuing the fate of a thin engineer. To the questions: "And what angle at the roof of the greenhouse should be? Will the car start from another car? How do you not know? The engineer!” I am used to. But a day ago, a neighbor almost killed me by asking, "Can you hold your son's wedding?"

And why me? ! to

I told you that you are a leader!

My mother’s dog is already very old. No one requires a security guard anymore. A year ago he was deaf. We treat him as a pensioner on a deserved vacation. We barely sit on the chain. He mostly sleeps in the shade. But because of his bad habit of stealing eggs from the chickenhouse, his mom sometimes plants him on a chain in the morning to get time to collect eggs. And when Mom shakes her necklace and cries out loudly, he turns back and sits stubbornly with her back. Because he hears nothing. And no one will force you to follow a command unless you hear it.

I stand at the post office and wait for my voucher to receive the package, as suddenly the rain begins abruptly outside the window. The man right in front of me opens the package received, gets the umbrella and says "as in time", goes out. The whole turn looked at him.

Every woman knows that her husband has sex a couple of times a week, but with her or without her - it is she decides for herself.

My friend told me a funny and even sad story. She married a classmate, such a quiet, kind and educated guy. In all matters, she is advised, she gives her salary, in the house she considers her the main, she loves incredibly, she blows the dust. But somehow he got tired of his right. She was confused with another – such a “true man” who seemed to be sharp, tough – and could get out of the room if it wasn’t for him (and it turned out later that he was also easy to get out of himself, before beating). She left her husband, and the depression began, the love of her whole life went away. He ran to psychologists, started drinking, and so on. She did not regret, finding in this proof of his weakness. She lived with the "true man" for three years, and endured everything, from beating to drunkarding, when he is dragged through the whole city drunk by a taxi, which he sees everything, and then in his pocket women's trousers will be found. He was a “strong man” who was not capable of anything. He could not hold on to a single job, after the first conflict with the chief (even because of the comment made) he "turned and left" (his favorite phrase). As a result, she, already pregnant, pulled the whole family, and as she gave birth (the husband did not even come to meet at the nursery), moved to her mother and filed for divorce. And after some time, she met her first husband, Alexey, who turned out to be socially strong, receives almost two hundred thousand. Well, she came to him - and there would happen a banal plot - or there rejected her, or, on the contrary, lived soul into soul. But he accepted, however, her life was not much better than before. First, the guy was convinced by psychologists and friends that he lost his wife because of his weak character, well, he began to tyrannize her when she returned, before the color of the wallpaper she could not choose (and previously disposed of the apartment as she wanted). She gives her money for little things, she is indifferent to the child from her second husband, and most importantly, she feels, the insult to her has never passed. Until they even signed up again, and she doesn't know where to go now - almost a thirty-year-old girl with a trailer... And you don't say that someone else is to blame, she has built her life. Be afraid of your wishes, butterflies!

If the Internet is closed in the Russian Federation, how will the scientists of Skolkovo order their latest developments on AliExpress?

Nothing motivates irresponsibility as impunity guaranteed by the state.

Recently my son tells me that he hears some voices at night. I did not believe. When I slept in his room at night, I almost sat down. Chinese races in a toy box caught a taxi driver.

The country needs tokers, engineers and scientists, and women give birth to bloggers, realtors and photographers.

Sex once a week is better than onanism every day.