"Sets of 4 measurement tablespoons"

convenient for inventory.
Where do we have a set of 4 measuring tablespoons?
They are stuck in the future.

by Matan

>> and how to open it after you do not get the infection?

>>> And the foot, a thousand devils!

Immediately humanists are visible, unfamiliar with integral computing.
Carro, take the wire...

XX: The whales do not let me go. An adult of 140 tons, Karl!
XY: The tongue of a blue whale weighs 3 tons, straight like an adult whale.
XX: And member 170 cm, as I am straight

(After another attack of the swamp in the chat)
The manager: We are working!
manager: I’ll just notice that I can edit logworks
Programming as well.
Lead programmers: and I can edit the prize
I can edit HTML and CSS.

The Marathon

>> No, this guy doesn’t actually wash there for 2 hours. The dumb hose runs so that before the girl not to be ashamed and not to end before time.

If he is 2 hours only slurring the hose, then "not finish before the time" - is it how much he has gathered to slur it? Will it work in a week?
They’re going to do all the stuff...

Note that the best and worst things happen to us usually in a lying position.

Don’t ask me how I got on that train. It doesn’t matter, as is the fact that the time from yesterday’s evening is running completely idiotic for me. It is important that a grandmother stepped into the wagon from the station "Vyšší Voloček". No, not that grandmother.
She had everything that belonged to such a woman from the city with this name: a moherous take down over a colourful cloth, puffy balloons and a puffy grandson, a young man of twelve years, destined to run for balloons.

After realizing that, "according to the tickets purchased", the relative would sit next to him, the grandson was delighted. But the bull lashed the luggage on the upper shelf - the response to the offer of help was harsh "Don't bite!". She looked around the wagon, picked the victim – it was a madman who offered help with the luggage – and:

Noah, go to there.

The victim once realized that it was not a proposal, and released the space. Stumbling her grandson into a chair by the window, the grandmother said:

Let us eat.

The grandson pulled his head into his shoulders. And in a second the whole car, as well as the surrounding villages, which the "sapsan" flies at a speed of 200 kilometers per hour, understood why.

The grandmother opened the mattress bag, casting the smell of Kotlet into the atmosphere. Following them, a bowl of cooked potatoes and a litre bank of salty cucumbers were wrapped in a towel. Of course, cut bread and a bunch of green onions.
“Happiness will be salt in a spark box,” my neighbor predicted, looking too young and fashionable to remember such details of Soviet journeys, looking at Babka with superstitious horror.

“Chocolate, what’s not going to be,” I also quietly replied.

I don’t know what I was thinking about making this obviously losing bet. Salt has appeared.

“I’m not hungry,” said the grandson hopelessly. I want to drink here. Where is my car?

“Compot,” the grandmother cut off. I cooked on the way. Eat the NOK.

The grandson pulled to the stove, scratched his hands and after a moment got the same stove with potatoes and bread. Snoring, I stood in the window.

“Nuke cucumbers,” the grandmother ordered. And the eggs.

My neighbor and I, who, by the way, nobly shared the winning chocolate with me, walked out for Grandma. She looked at the mountain and asked:

Where are the eggs?

Even confusion was heard in her voice.

Where did the eggs go?

And although they were obviously not asking us, we for some reason split our hands. I don’t know, I didn’t take, nothing to do with it.
Grandma began to get angry.

I cooked eggs in the morning, five pieces, hot. and where?

We quietly sackled.

My child is hungry! The grandmother cried.

For the next ten minutes she turned her balls into the passage, and the whole wagon listened to the heart-breaking story of the missing eggs, five pieces, cool, and the hungry "rabbit", which at this time chewed the cocklet with Olympic calm.

A woman with a baby appeared in the passage.

Then come, the grandmother cried out.

We need to change the pampers. The woman was upset. He has kicked!

The grandmother stood up from the bowls and, stirring the baby with a frog’s gaze, spoke literally the following:

Picked – that is to say, eaten! Do I die of hunger??? The eggs are gone!

“She’s a troll,” my neighbor admired.

“Sorry,” a woman with a baby stumbled, “I didn’t know you also have a little child...I’ll go to another car.
And then the "little child" made a sound that makes 100 percent of adult men after a glass of beer.

I couldn’t hold back anymore, my neighbor and I cried out.

A guide appeared:

What is happening here with you?

It is not your business! The grandmother whispered, recording the balls back. Probably accepted the loss. She splashed into the chair and answered her granddaughter a light but offensive necklace. - And you eat, or my mother will say, I will hunger you!

And then the grandson, who was obviously tired of feeling the wordsless Christmas goose, rose up. He cried out and turned to the guide with a secular tone:

Sorry for Grandma. She lost five of her eggs and is a little nervous.

If Grandma said something, we didn’t hear it: the wagon stumbled so that it seemed that even the windshield outside the window stopped.

You probably think that the next was, as I often do: we talked with Grandma, and it turned out that she was not a Grandma, but a soloist of the Big Theatre, a thin, intelligent and sometimes a violinist, and I just didn't immediately look at it.

by KMM.

We talked about, yes. Taking my gaze toward the remains of the feast, the grandmother asked:
Didn’t they pick up on the road?

I did not collect, I blamed.

“Well, sit now, don’t grumble,” the grandmother replied. The sheep are handless.

Jehovah’s Witnesses were shocked: the young men began to knock at their door with questions: “Do you want to talk about science?”, “Do you open your heart to quantum physics?”, “Do you accept the teachings of Isaac our Newton, who took an apple from our ignorance, our misunderstanding, and our fears?”

I have been sitting on the same mobile tariff for several years, which is considered archival today (you cannot connect to it, but you can use it). Due to the circumstances, my old tariff has many advantages over the new one - it is cheaper, minutes more, and you can still call all over the country as part of a minute package (intercity? I have not heard.) Apparently the operator for this reason and covered the bench, releasing a new line of tariffs, which are significantly more expensive, minutes there are less, you can only call in the region and the only thing that has changed for the better - it added a large internet package, but I don't need it.
It was an introduction, and now it is exactly what it was written for.
I regularly receive calls from the operator, where I am joyfully offered to switch to new rates and with great enthusiasm begin to dictate all the positive aspects of such a transition.
After listening carefully to them, I always ask the opposite question: "And what does my current rate not please you?", they are immediately lost and sadly - "Goodbye.." they put the phone =((

The Cleaning-2
# cleaning

I work in a wacht method, so I remove a house near the workplace. I stay in this apartment 4 nights a week. The crust begins to look dirty about 2 weeks after the last cleaning. Another week this minor pollution can be tolerated, then there is a desire to clean up. I clean up there every three weeks. The funniest thing is that among my acquaintances, some consider cleaning once every 3 weeks the peak of lead, others - the peak of purification :)

I live in an apartment with my husband, two young children and a half-blind grandmother. We day and night daily, cook and cover the table three times a day, we come in dirty shoes from work, from school / garden, from walks, from the store. We play, sew, draw, do crafts from cloves, dig, pour, pour, crush... The shell and in general, ALL starts to look irreversible on the third day without cleaning.
In your case, yes, maybe even less.

I dreamed I was suddenly Santa.
I don’t know what to think, fucking. In short, I walk heroically through the crossed terrain with a magical bag, and the bag allows me to hear people’s thoughts. And here, I hear that people don’t believe in me, and that makes me physically hurt. And who believes – many think badly, because in advance they assume that I will give them something wrong. In short, it happened, after the gifts were handed over, all kinds of thoughts like "pizzac, cheap what got!" and there, honestly, there were good, expensive gifts, and the thoughts I listened to, whoever wanted. And they laughed at each other, realizing that they wanted something different or harder than they got.
I woke up from sleep, I thought again, well? I know that DM has not existed for 30 years, why is it suddenly? And then I thought, the same people are ungrateful fucks, they don't know how hard I was.And I also suffered there, that in me no one sees a personality, only the function, the delivery of gifts...

To see if it is not Ivan

>> Thus Perelman is a mathematician

Oh young people, fuck you.
Do you know that Perelman is not a single copy?
Google the pre-war Perelman and his series of science fiction.

Video under a microscope about how a mosquito looks for a blood vessel

CreepyGAD: And what, do our mosquitoes do too?

Afanasyev: CreepyGAD, in our own experience, mosquitoes on the flight immediately into the vein, quickly suck and snatch, and not like this horse.

Shvabroid: Afanasyev, *dreamfully* "quickly suck and snatch"

Justas1978: Shvabroid, don’t forget it’s very itchy afterwards.

From the Mamba:

Marina, 34: Well guys, I understand photoshop girls their photo, but where are you?! to

Alexey, 37: Do we need to photoshop a salary report?

The Medsrach
> Did you go to the Arbitration? Against adenovirus and rhinovirus it works very well.
– is
Madame Arbidol, take a stand. The rest look at the pubmed - it doesn't even work in the test tube from the word at all, it's worth leaving the Russian Federation. In Russia something works. The Magic of Madame Arbidol

My husband is a brave man. If we look at the night of the horror, in the middle of the night he wakes up, pulls a child's bed to our bed and falls asleep, holding him by the pen, so as not to be afraid.

The airplane love

"Like: The Law of the Aircraft: The most deadly thing in the waiting room in the flight will definitely be sitting next to you.

Next to whom did you sit? Who was lucky this time?

Add to the main:
I add more.
Supplementary

A really cool vacuum cleaner himself looks after younger children, wipes out dust and smoothes up bed linen! Some women even replace a horse.

Men are also happy, especially if the absorption power is sufficient

In my opinion, you can’t even imagine the process of "sugging". In this case, I’t trust the vacuum cleaner.)

That’s all right, you say: and the strawberries, the strawberries, is it overtaking from what?

The Boscomes

xxx: Daughter asked to put a spiral in order to go to a pioneer camp
>> yyy: I am a fool. I didn’t go to the camp when I was a child :(

It’s from mosquitoes, don’t worry.

Especially wrought barbers hop-style - with spikes, chains, rugged nails throughout the canteen.

So to say, the barbers.