XX: It really depends on the company. In this case, the spectators are already warm and even on not very funny jokes they can laugh. I have seen this often on the stands. As I said before, it depends on the company. I even conducted experiments, joked one and more joke in different companies, and somewhere they laughed, and somewhere I felt stupid.)

YYY: Where you feel stupid, you just say, “Torture, it was an experimental joke, I just watched your reaction.” You get a notebook and typically record something, whispering: "The joke #47 is not ready yet. Check with another control group. You are all beautiful :)

Documentation is like sex: when it’s good it’s very, very good, and when it’s bad it’s better than nothing.

xxx: And I had a spark in the rooster, which is not a plug. The logic was this: the ends of the rod two, the hole in the socket also two. It is ideal. There was a cousin, one year older. I seemed to try to answer, but the desire to see how I was distracted appeared to be stronger.

YYY: Is it disruptive?

XX: Yes, I am now a gyrobas. But it’s not because of that case.

I remembered a childhood case.

Summer, evening, lively courtyard of a multi-storey house.

A few girlfriends come back from a neighboring store with ice cream, alone. At this time, the grandmother of this girl goes out on the balcony to hang up things. The grandmother notices this company and cries out to the girl, which is called "to the whole yard."

Did the girls buy ice cream?

Yes my grandmother!

Why did you not come home? I would ask for money.

Bab and why? I’t give it anyway :(



Grandma quietly walked away into the apartment.

A film is a sequence of murders with bed scenes.

Preventive

When I was a child I lived in a small remote town, it was the end of the 90s, the beginning of the 00s. To understand approximately: life in the town lagged about 10 years behind the Moscow region and other central regions. That is, when in Moscow all these banditic stories ended and all the bandits moved into business/politics, we all dreamed of becoming bandits. Why work in a factory if you can cover the kiosks, do nothing and get twice as many workers? Only bad guys work, I’m not. I will not work in my life. I, of course, like all my surroundings, also wanted to get into this middle and "rise up" on it.

But one day during the summer holidays, he got into the police. Nothing serious, just a small hooliganism. I was lucky to meet a good policeman. He was calm, like a tank, communicated with me very politely and seemed to understand me. This, of course, psychologically put himself on my side, actually putting me on my own. I don't remember exactly what he was saying or how it happened before, but at some point he offered to show me the camera. Of course, I agreed, but it is interesting to see where I will find myself sooner or later and spend a part of my life!

It was lonely. There were no detainees there, nobody told me anything, I was just thrown inside the cameras, and this policeman stood outside, not even closing the door. I stood inside this chamber: fucking dirty; it smelled so that I couldn’t describe it with words. Size 1 * 3 meters. Half a meter wide occupied the shell (a iron rectangle with two old boards on it, but in general you could put 3 or even 4 boards, but probably one was broken, and who would put the third there? He was there with two half-glandles. Right behind it is a hole in the floor for understandable purposes. The walls, the floor, the ceiling are all black. 20 * 20 cm approximately, never washed, and even behind two rows of grids, that is, there is almost no light. There is also no electric light, only from the corridor, if you open the door. I used to the dark for a few minutes.

The following year I worked as an assistant worker all summer and was wildly delighted with small but honestly earned money. Changed the surroundings. The view of life has changed a lot.

The EU countries have rejected Nord Stream 2. But the tube did not go wrong. We’ll scream at her that they’re all pirates.

Well, in general, such a piss in life always happens unexpectedly. I have been working as a coach for about 7 years and I have one regular client. Which I’ve been doing for 5 years, probably. A beautiful social girl, in the presence has a son and a wonderful husband. But from the beginning she was somewhat hyperactive in communicating with me. What’s on training, what’s outside. When I flew anywhere to study or on vacation, I always wrote how I was doing, how I flew and if I ate. That kind of hype always seemed strange to me. But I tried not to give up this importance and worked with her further.)

Then one beautiful summer day, a year ago. I come home and I get a photo of her in the chat. It depicts a little girl, a woman and my young father. The VTF. I ask her in the most incomprehensible words “who is this and why is my father in the photo” and she writes to me that a little girl is her, a woman is her Mom, and my dad is her Dad. And here I just walked. In a complete misunderstanding of the situation, I call my father and ask what the universe is, and he answers, “Yes, it’s your sister, but it’s not your business. for the time being.”

Cool is simple. Everyone knew about my sister’s existence except me and my mother. Well, and she decided to tell it five years later. Malakhov is resting.

At the beginning there was zero. I went with a friend to a night club on Friday after work. We drink and we relieve stress. Mood is great. People are not much. We drink and talk. And here we meet a guy and a girl from the neighboring table. The cute guys. Ask permission to move with us. We communicate very well for the next couple of hours. Here, the guards polently begin to hint that it is time to go out. And the girl says, "and we live in the neighboring house, go to us, let's go on!"

Because in all of us we are already more than 0.5. And indeed, across the road from the club their house, we get up (about 4 am), we enter. And here, they say, “Go into the kitchen, but please be quiet, we are out in that room, the child is sleeping!” We are like that, yeah okay, once we come, we go. We sit and communicate, and the girl runs all the time and when she returns, she says - it's okay - she sleeps.

I ask where can I smoke? Go to the balcony. And the balconies in that house, you know, go along the whole apartment.

I stand on the balcony, enjoy the summer Saturday morning and suddenly realize that the neighboring windows are the same room where the "child" sleeps. At dawn, I look out the window.

And there is a completely empty room, in the middle is an empty bed, on which lies an empty mattress!

Tumblr is switching to danger mode. I am sober, I go to the kitchen, take Bora under my hands and quickly leave the room with a preliminary inspection of the stairs.



It seemed, but what was it?

In 2008, after the army, I worked in one of the retail chains for the sale of household appliances, I received a good ZP. And here we have a boy, Pasha, under the protection of the leadership. Everyone seemed to be away from him, but I quickly found a common language with him (per because of the same age). This is preface.

It was after the salary, on the street is summer, no clouds in the sky, we decided Pacha and I to walk after work, drink a beer, meet some girls. Near the job I drank a bottle, then on the road, then jumped into the cafe I ordered a shaurma because I was hungry after work. We then headed to Lenin Square, a little wandering around it, and met two ladies. I remember one beautiful woman who was a writer. Landed on the bench, beer by the river, girls one by one disappear somewhere, we walk. And then my stomach tells me that the shaurma was not very good quality, turns and asks out. A pasha here offers "Driven to me, the apartment is free", the girls supported, I feel I won't get to Pachino's house, which is at the other end of the city. I say let’s go without me, Pacha insists, and my bottom is breaking out already, only I think how to get home faster, lived in two quarters. I promptly agreed that I would go home and go home to Pashka. I run to the parking lot, catch the first taxi and drive 2 quarters to the house. As I got to a white friend I don’t remember what I remember is that at midnight I couldn’t get away from him and for 15 minutes, Pashka called me until 2 o’clock and then disappeared from communication. I did not give importance.

In the morning not sleeping meal to work, I call Pacha he is not accessible, which is strange. It is not at work, neither before nor after the opening of the store. Close to lunch I agreed with the director to take a taxi home to check what happened to him. Then he goes into the store himself. I’ll ask him how and where he disappeared. He told me. We came with these ladies to him home, on the road jumping into the nightmare, purchased champagne, candy, etc. and so on. After I drank a couple of glasses of shampoo and all, he says, I don’t remember anything. In the morning I woke up on the floor in the hall, the entrance door was covered, there was no money, no phone, they took out the TV, DVD, gold, in general, it was good. Paška to the neighbor to call the menta, those who came accepted the application, checked the fingers (no fingerprints), cracked and left. And here Pacha asks me, "You remember them on the face, can you describe them? "And I only remember that one was beautiful, and all, well, and something else wanted to fuck. And it turns out that he and I do not even remember the general description of these virgins.

So I stayed with my wallet and the bag without it.

It was in 2000.

I got divorced in a taxi, but the situation was even more fun. The car is Niva, three-door which. At first, the acquaintance sat forward, then suddenly appeared a "conductor", to whom it was earlier to go out and the acquaintance was moved back. There is no door, there is no door.

They went. In front of the driver and the "conductor" - two healthy foreheads, and a familiar behind. The night. The city is dark, the lights do not burn. They turned into some courtyard, then on the other side. The acquaintance begins to wonder, telling them where they are? On which he is absolutely calm (from which the frost on the skin) they say that now will take him away in the garage, remove everything valuable, disguise and probably cut. Not to leave a witness. And they go on, discussing with each other where it is better to lead him - in that race or further.

A familiar in shock, where to run, there is no door on the side, he himself is far from a superman. Here they go out on the road, drive, "passenger" says to the driver - "Oh, let's turn, here is better." Nivea at speed begins to turn sharply and the acquaintance visits a successful idea - he pulls the towel from all the way (nearby). He carries, becomes on two wheels, then twists a couple of times, then into a cuvet, there in a pillar, a forehead, two foreheads in a knock-out. The acquaintance managed to break up and remained conscious. He went out through the broken front glass and ran away quickly.

Xxx: I don't know, somehow I just got everything done with the sighs: I worked in the garden with the bats, and he suddenly asks me if I smoked. well, I didn't lie, I just said yes, he replied that I don't need it, I better not smoke, well, I thought, really, it didn't smoke me anymore.

Yyy: One evening I went out for bread, bought bread and went home.

Zzz: Oh, who will believe it, another cat lamp!

In the early days, my German boyfriend and I went to Moscow for his birthday. We looked at the city, took pictures on the Red Square and decided to go to a restaurant and have dinner. Although the restaurant and recommended me in advance, the table we did not book. They came spontaneously. The restaurant was full, but after a short wait we found a cozy table for two at the window. On the occasion of the holiday, we decided to order a bottle of wine in addition to food. The waitress asked me to show my papers. I showed my driver’s license and my young man showed his German passport. The waitress, seeing my boyfriend’s birthday today, in English (!!!) I greeted him and asked him!!!It is possible to give him a piece of cake as a gift at the expense of the institution. Of course, we did not refuse. But, frankly, they were skeptical about this proposal - they will definitely forget or still write in the account. We somehow didn’t believe in a crazy cake, but we relaxed and just our dinner.

When we ate and looked at how we got to the hotel, we forgot about the cake. The people in the restaurant were just added, the waiters were dressed over and over, and I just can’t imagine how they had time and remembered everything. And here, quite unexpectedly for us, our waiter went to our table with a plate on which a large piece of cake with a festive candle was painted. We were surprised. Especially my young man. I haven’t seen anything like this in any restaurant in Europe. The waiter once again polently congratulated him on his birthday and even said a few wishes. Everything is in English and very friendly. The cake was beautiful and incredibly delicious. It’s been almost a year, but we still remember that stunning cherry cake and a very nice waitress.

On the next trip to Moscow we will definitely go to that restaurant (hopefully it will not close because of the coronavirus) and buy this cake. By the way, thanks to a polite waitress, my young man is convinced that Russia has the best service in the world. Of course, he tells his friends about it if possible and recommends that restaurant in Moscow. I am pleased to have such a good impression of my homeland.

When you’re in the ass, it doesn’t matter if you’re in quarantine or not.

Employees of a cafe in the New Zealand city of Wellington did not allow the institution of the country's prime minister Jacinda Ardern and her fiancé Clark Gayford, because in connection with the new rules, introduced against the background of the coronavirus, it was already overcrowded, reports the newspaper New Zealand Herald.
Nothing is holy, nothing is holy.

Thanks to the self-isolation mode, I finally had time to do repairs in the bathroom, disassemble the mud in the wardrobe and read Dostoevsky. I haven’t done anything yet, but the time has come.

I visited a friend in another city. And here, one late evening, when I was sitting in the kitchen for a compost, he comes in so worried and begins to search the kitchen. I ask, what are you looking for? “I can’t find the mirror. I put it in a pack with the charging and the lens and there is no package.”

We searched together. without a result.

You know, I probably dropped this package with garbage yesterday! The garbage was dumped and seized. Let’s go to wash. We look there!

We dress up and go. The boxes near the house are full. I looked up, but where was it... It became clear that if there was a package somewhere, inside these tanks. What to do?

I have an idea! Let’s find a bombardment, pay him money and let him in this tank and find that damn package!

We call a taxi. The night. The taxi driver: “Where are we going?”

We need to find a bomb. Here we picked up the cloth, laying on the seat. Go to market. I know, there was one place for them.

We come to the market, empty, closed. We walked around, fig there. The Taxi:

It’s too late, they’re probably already sleeping.

Where can they be?

It can still be at the station.

Go to the station. Empty too. We travelled around the city for training and returned.

Well, you’ll have to see, you’ll have to go there yourself. Is it worth it?

Yes it stands. Wait here, I am now.

Comes dressed up. The clothes are clean, just old.

And he starts taking out the bag and transferring it to the neighbor.

Are you sure this is the bag?

Yes, of course! I dropped to the left.

He cries, I light up the phone. At the bottom he finds his suitcase of garbage.

Here is my package! Uff!

And the camera?

The time...

Draw the tank to the end. There is no second camera. We go home.



We go to the village on the weekend. There his friends, relatives... A friend comes, brings a bag with a camera.

You came to the shelters a week ago. I forgot the package.

A conversation between two men, 50 years old. Listened in line, with observance of mass mode and distance.



- You, fucking, these fools from GAI for nothing took the son's rights.

And what happened?

At the parking lot near the store, he grabbed the mirror of the neighboring car and left. Imagine for some mirror and deprived of rights.

So he was not deprived of the mirror, but for leaving the place of the accident. He would call the commissioners, pay a thousand for the registration and leave quietly.

He couldn’t stay, he was a little drunk.

This happened when I was 15 weeks pregnant. One night I woke up from the fact that the baby first started pushing. I was very happy and wanted to share this with my husband. But he, unfortunately, was asleep, and it was a pity to wake a working man. I didn’t think of anything better than taking his hand and putting it on my stomach in the hope that he would feel the movement through his sleep. And here, I take his hand, I try to squeeze into my pyjamas, and suddenly... the husband (sleeping) sharply tears out his hand, pushes me off, swings off his hands, wraps in the blanket, turns away from me and sleeps on. I am very upset and confused trying to fall asleep too. And I am offended, on the one hand, and on the other - what demand from a sleeping person.

My husband wakes up in the morning and tells me. You know, I said, I had such a wild dream. I stand in a line, and suddenly the man standing in front of me turns, takes my hand and swims in his pants.

Do not sneeze in the sleeve. They smell!