We talked with a friend about the games, argued a little about the Prince of Persia, almost came to a consensus, and then it turned out that I mean the warm lamp game of the year 89, and he - some newly crafted fake...

As experience shows, the phrase "Battery almost sat, let's go faster" at the beginning of the conversation does not affect the effectiveness of negotiations, but reduces their time by about three times.

Lifehack: In order for VKontakte not to annoy you with paid posts in the feed tagged "Advertising", which is problematic to block through the adblock, it is enough to put the youngest age.

When I was in college, we had philosophy. It, of course, everyone scored - Saturday, the first couple, but I went - the teacher was good, and the promised machine was not superfluous.



And one Saturday morning, he started a couple with a lecture about relationships:

There are two types of relationships: object-subject and subject-subject.



The first type is the most common, is the relationship in which a person knows the other through a set of actions and responses to them. Such relationships are also characteristic of “friendship by interest.” That is, you and your visavi, which you need, as long as it has certain characteristics and meets the requirements. If they are broken, the relationship ends.



And there is also a relationship of the second type - subject-subject. These are relations of the highest order. There is no difference between you and your partner. You are in balance. You both have the same problems, the same victories. There are no boundaries or conditions. This type of relationship exists only in two cases: faith and love.



Give me a definition of love! Distributed from the back. Ask a cavernous humanitarian question that requires certainty and specificity, a favorite fun in technical universities.



“Let’s start with the word “definition,” without any confusion, the teacher continued. To give a definition means to “pre-empt”, that is, to set a limit. Or another border. The more boundaries, the more accurate the definition.



A line appeared on the board. Then another and another, until there is a multi-angle.



But once you draw at least one boundary, you separate yourself from your lover. You go into the object-subject relationship. The more boundaries there are, the farther you are from each other. There is no definition of love. And will never be.



There was no highest silence, no one rushed to record convulsively, there was nothing that could be inherent in revelation. There was only an uneven multi-angle on the board. But I remembered that moment for many years. And I can say that this was the most important lecture in my entire course of technical training.

When I was in second grade, a bald uncle came to us and began to tell us, “In ten years there will be communism. There will be a lot of products, clothes and toys in the shops. It will be free, there will be no money at all. You can go to the store and get your own sausages or cheese for dinner as much as you need. If you want bananas, take bananas, if you want ananas, take ananas.



And so on in the same spirit. He told with a fire and radiated kindness, like grandfather Lenin. Everyone listened and opened their mouths. I dreamed of a bicycle. But yet I felt like I was somewhere in the dust... And then, many years later, I realized that in something my uncle was right. I really have no money.

I called a taxi. The car arrived on time, the driver was 20 years old. It turned out to be very pleasant and conversational - served, is currently studying, is going to get married so he is working in a taxi. Here he has the phone ringing - he is watching who is there and very nervous and quickly begins to drive on the smartphone with his fingers to answer as soon as possible. As a result, he removes the phone and answers very quickly and clearly that everything is okay, but now he is at work and will call back in about 37 minutes and 14 seconds. He appeared to have been called by his father. Dad calls him every Friday (it was also Friday) and asks him what he does, what he did six days before, how much he earned, how much he spent, and what he’s achieved in school, as well as in preparation for the wedding. Dad is a big rank in the Air Force on a very distant base, but prefers to be aware of what is happening. Once this guy drank with friends on Thursday, came home, went to bed. I forgot to charge the phone. The next day, he wakes up from the doorbell. It opens, there are two soldiers. Further conversation :



You guys, I have already served.

They: Are you like that?

He: Well yes, and what?

They say, “You are called by your father, say!

And they stretch him some kind of military communication apparatus, where the father is already on the wire. After this incident, the guy no longer drinks on Thursday, and keeps his phone charged.

My friends went somehow to the lake, swim and have a good time. Upon leaving the city, they were stopped by a haishnik. Standard situation, verification of documents, but since the driver looked young, the haishnik thought that schoolchildren were sitting in the cabin and decided to check whether they were drinking alcohol. And in the salon, for a moment, there were four healthy foreheads, all completely bearded and like schoolchildren were very long ago. Despite this, the haishnik, looking into the salon, asks the question: "What class, boys?". And a loud voice from the salon replies: “Working.”

The most exciting thing is to see Hollywood actors who have lost in the nomination pretend they’re not angry. I remember once Holly Berry won an Oscar, and Nicole Kidman smiled so widely that she could have won an Emmy for her stunning play right at the Oscar.



Chris Rock in 2005.

Be calm, it will cause people to worry.

and Miss Zen. A story with an epic end.

My friend came from Voronezh last night. He shaved, threw his bags and dragged the tea into the kitchen to chase. Sleep, he says, not in one eye, until I tell you how I arrived, I will not calm down.
Beyond his face:

"Ele had time to get on the train, he threw his bags on the run, himself barely walked through the platform with his nose, but he had time. I rush through the hallway and pray that my lower shelf be occupied: I hate them, I always ride up, so that no one touches me. Prayers were heard: on my shelf, a boy of ten years, full, cheeky, cared for, licked. Next to him, his mother handbags him. On the other lower shelf sits a 20-year-old girl in an old sweater, trousers and bright blue shades. I read and I get zero attention. I caught the woman’s look and said, “Please.” I am not sorry for the shelves, but for decency I could ask. She whispered and turned. She pulled the bag next to the girl, began to break down and said in an ultimate tone, "Child, I'm going to sit here, next to the child, don't you mind?" She also fell the top.

“Contra...” was a voice full of some extraterrestrial zen and calmness.

The lady rushed for a second, but recalled and continued to break things.

"I have to keep an eye on Tarchenko, suddenly what will happen to him, and sleep from above for a long time. Let us not argue and change.”

“We will not change...”

I thought she would now begin to say that she specifically booked a place in advance, that it wasn’t her problem and bla bla bla. But not. The girl just turned and lay her back on the lady’s bowl, like a pillow, not leaving the book out of her hands.

The lady suddenly ripped the bag, freeing the seat, and Miss Zen lay down on it in all her height.

"Skotina minor" - a woman clearly knocked through and, putting the bag on the table, went up. From there, she soon very successfully dropped the haircut, which hit the girl right in the forehead. Miss Zen, not distracted from reading, dropped her haircut on the floor.

For the first two hours of the journey, the lady cried, cried, demonstrately inconveniently descended from the shelf to wipe out Mishenko's socks and adjust his heat exchange, stretching and sticking the vest. But soon, realizing that Ms. Zen wanted to put on her torture what the universe gave her, she set up and fell asleep.

We spent a few more hours in relative tranquility and even tranquility. I met Mishka, divided him for a couple of parties in a naval battle, into a fool - normal, in principle, the guy turned out to be, only in love. Miss Zen read, separating herself from the outside world.

The Dinner. The lady woke up and began to grieve at the fact that her son, God, was dying of hunger. Misha, who recently tortured a couple of sausages with me in the paste, stunned his shoulders. As my mother said, she was really hungry.

Just then the fate caught Miss Zen into the bathroom. When she returned, she discovered that she was left with a small corner near the window, and the rest of the seat was fitted with containers, a thermos and a Mish. The lady, intercepting her absolutely phlegmatic look, still thought that, finally, she had stumbled, so solemnly stated: "The chair is below, and we have the full right to sit here, we have not occupied the whole shelf!“”
Without any confusion, Miss Zen passed to her seat, settled there comfortably and turned her gaze into the motionless infinity.

At the end of the dinner, Misha, fed so that from his ears, decided that it was inappropriate for others to starve, and shared with Miss Zen a boiled egg. Strangely enough, she took it... And then the mother, having decided that “there is nothing to scatter the foods on any shell,” grabbed Misha, landing that back, and grabbed Miss Zen in her hand.

At this point I had thought that the wall of restlessness would collapse, but again I was wrong: Miss Zen brought the egg back to the table and wiped her hands on the lady’s shirt with the words “All yours.”

What started there... The lady was waiting for something to blow through a bubble of indignation. Shaking her hands, she took the solo arias "Voice hammer, ugly, premature!" In her tirade she poured out as a soul, choosing Miss Zen as the primary cause of the misfortunes of mankind in general and of her own in particular. “Because of people like you, nothing is ever going as it should.” Anger covered her eyes, her brain boiled, and when control over herself was finally lost, the lady whispered Miss Zen, so that she attached her head to the wall, glory to Kthulhu, though slightly.

She cried and silenced, looking forward to the reaction.

“The FAS!” I thought I could no longer endure that.

If Miss Zen had started scandalizing or loosing her hands, the image of the Most Immortal would have dissolved forever in my mind. But she did not disappoint.

Slowly, but inevitably, she leaned toward the woman, as if she was going to say something to her ear.

And tasty, wet, she slipped from the soul, from the forehead to the forehead, through the eyes, lubricating cosmetics, leaving a glowing salivary trace.
It was crazy, Carl!

...The effect was crushing and instantaneous, like from a tranquilizer: the lady silenced and began to touch her cheek with her fingers... Then she crushed Misha, threw him on her shelf and was squeezing to wash.

Miss Zen wiped her mouth with a towel and soaked the corner. This action was already meant for me, and, God sees, I did not stand up and stumbled.

During the rest of the trip, the lady did not say a word to her. Also silently they and Misha left the wagon at their station.

And Miss Zen went deep into the book again. Her whole appearance said that she had left this reality and would not return soon. I did not stop her.

Before I was forty years old, I was considered old aunts.
Forgive me, dear girls.

He worked on the construction of several houses. Working for a week, the house didn’t get drawn. The equipment decided to hand over to the guard, next to the booth was standing. But something made me doubt him. Is it that the windows were wrapped, or the rose did not come out? I no longer remember.



Okay, I think I will check. I approach and ask:

Hi, is there smoking?

Take a cigarette.

Have you worked here for a long time?

The third month.

In general, as a job, what happens?

The excavator was recently stolen.

About the JCB?

Oh well, the new one. It happens.

and Daa. Listen, I’m looking out at those pallets with the patchwork. (And there really thousands and a half bags on the pallets lie) Who can I talk to here, I need a couple of bags of the balcony to finish?

Oh, and you take it. I took 5 bags for my bath.

It is cool, thank you.



Carroce, I didn’t leave the equipment for him.

In general, I thought that the song "Exponat" appeared not just so. It seemed to me that together with Google they should have contributed to the popularization of the shoes of Christian Labuten in Russia. But the Russian specifics and sanctions have reduced the whole concept to the appearance on the YouTube video "how to make lobbies at home".

XXX is Hi! How is it?
YYY: It is normal. How by myself?
Better not to know. A question to you. Introverts do not tolerate communication at all or breathe out quickly?
YYY: I think they are breathing out faster.
How fast do you breathe out?
YYY: With words as normal as myself.

I work in a programming office. We say "JavaScript", "JavaScript", "JavaScript" and "there’s this cracked hernia", no one is outraged, everyone understands everyone, no one re-teaches anyone. Per it’s because we’re writing code, not office notes and scams.

I don’t usually get caught up with the words formed by the mother-in-law distortion of the original, but the lifehue has entertained me.

Have you washed the laundry?
What is not visible? I washed for a long time.
It seems to have been washing for a long time.

After trying Win10 for a couple of months, there was a sudden desire to switch to Linux.

From the instructions: The country manufacturer of baking bags is China, where they know the trick in quality things.

and UGU. They know, but do very rarely.

Read on the Belarusian website (orthography saved): "the car flew to Kuwait".