In the universe, in the early 2000s, a bartender worked in Kamchatka, I liked to walk home at night in the winter in good weather, about an hour and a half.

Especially when snow falls, almost warm and without wind. You walk around, fresh groves, huge snowflakes slowly fall before your face, a large moon shadows the snow with a blueish sparkling light. I want to shout something enthusiastically, but the silence around prohibits. Beauty and tranquility.

Someone passed by very rarely at night, tea is not MKAD. But sometimes I put out my hand with my thumb lifted up "auto-stop", if going bored and heard the car behind.

One day a little overtook and a new crochet stopped in front of me. Sitting in the car - behind the wheel was a shaved naked and with blue "hands" tattooed on the elbow, a man straight from the infamous nineties. He asked where I was, and they talked a little about nothing on the road.

I stopped at my bus stop and asked, “How much?” He said, “I am a taxi. He turned and left in the opposite direction. He didn’t need to go to my side at all, he just threw a stranger at night.

Leaders are divided into two categories: some know how to lead in a crisis, and others lead to a crisis with their leadership.

When I was 14 years old, my grandmother gave me chopsticks. Two years later, I gave them to my younger sister. When my sister was studying at school, she gave her wickets to a friend. I am now 34 years old. My husband recently brought me my puddles. She says that the mother at work was given by some employee, she was small, and the mother-in-law immediately realized that they were on my hand. These are the same, furry and old gloves that my grandmother wore when she was still alive.

and oh! Dollars for 75! Do you sell?
No, we are showing.
It is beautiful.

I have always loved digging into electronics, studying and finishing. It was still in school, and I was silly, but I knew it was mine. In 91, he gained access to IBM and began writing in Pascal. It was not a job for me, but a hobby. Then he entered the universe, the army, but the hobby did not go away. Even before the army, I went to work, wrote in Cobol and C in the unix system, and when they were paid, I stood red like cancer and couldn’t believe I was paid for what I would do for free. Then the army, writing programs on paper, sitting on duty, although the police officer mated and checked the records, trying to find the code. Then he returned to the same job, and a couple of years later finally found his company, sharpened under programming. And I still write programs, solving difficult tasks, and I still don’t understand what I’m being paid for. I like it.

Congo expels half of Russian diplomats



YYY: I realized that this half would go home... to Peter?

We will respond to every psaquing with a sandstone.

Recently, a friend discovered the relationship with the tax. He, as the director of LLC, was tortured for sending money to firms that have signs of one-day firms. He replied that the three-storey building of the tax office, at the entrance of the security guard, young girls work in the rooms, an elderly lady controls everything, everyone is called clients, that is, there are all signs of a bordell. He also asked to explain... He received a fine.

The ruble has strengthened. The exchange rate of the dollar is 75 rubles.
Someone to! Tell the Chinese about this, on AliExpress still $ 120.

Work already regrets what has made the monkey man. The monkeys are just shit. Not with bombs.

Beginning of the Millennium. We work in the Eastern Arctic, a base in Tiksi. In those years, the launch of our expeditions was mainly carried out by military-transport aircraft - they negotiated through some intermediaries with the pilots of the garrison and carried themselves and cargo on the AN-12. Often these boats were flying and the military with families, and just the Tixins, who needed to. The departure from the middle lane was from one of the airfields of long-range aviation, we usually flew from Kaluga or Novgorod regions. Accordingly, when you fly west, the landing airport is completely unknown, it can change straight in flight. In Vorkut there was usually a landing at a refueling station.
Once the fate failed and I had to evacuate from Tiksi in the middle of the field season. The pilots told me when they were flying west, I came with a backpack. In the AN-12 passengers usually fly in a small cabin, which is immediately behind the cockpit, and further, to the ramp in the tail - the cargo compartment, it is not sealed. There were 28 or 30 people in the hermocabine, I don’t remember exactly – it was for 6 landing places. We fly standing, pressing together until we lose individual shape. At the sitting seats - wives of soldiers with small children, who alternately worship. Adults also want to, but they are embarrassed. Sometimes standing at the door in the cargo compartment weakens its screw lock, and then everyone greedy inhale the air coming from there. Together with it, heavy concentrated waves of fish spirit enter the hermocabine, because the board is half full of ice cream fish for relatives, superiors, comrades and many others. It is impossible and cold to breathe for a long time, the doors are closed, after half an hour the cycle is repeated. Flight to Vorkuta 5 hours. When I landed there, I had sick hands pressed by the neighbors. For a half-hour refuelling, everybody was scattered on the strip and rejoiced in freedom. Then again in the air. This time, we sat under the rubble in 4 hours. During the whole time from Tixie – about 10 hours – no crumbs in my mouth, because my sushi was crushed while trampling still in Tixie, and all the time standing. Almost everyone meets with relatives or someone else, and I don’t even know where to go from the airport, how to get to Moscow. I asked somebody, and they threw my hand to the side of the highway. I go on the runway in the dark, stunned from the 9 o'clock rush of the engines, with the parts of the body still on the right after the pressure, I think how to get further...
What made me turn, I still don’t know. But I turned around – and he catches me along the AN-12 lane and rubs the air with screws just 20 meters behind me. How did I not hear him? I jump to the side and blink with my hand purely reflexively. And then the unexpected thing happens: the AN catches me, brakes, the side loop opens, the trap falls down and on it – the board mechanic, who runs to me and ears at my ear: “......... we are half behind you, we don’t know how to drive off the lane! Why are you going here and you’re still running with your legs? ......” I wore in response that with Tixy arrived, here the first time, I need to Moscow, I go to the highway, where they sent... He wildly looks at me and screams: “Come, let’s throw it to Stupino! Go ahead quickly!” Not having time to realize what and how, I climb the stairs into the hermocabine... And there is paradise! The hermocabine is all sliced, light tone, on the left edge - a rolling table, there are DIVANCHIS! On the table – giant red tomatoes, cucumbers, some greens, and behind the table is a very nice woman sits a little older than me at the time. Bordmech sits me at the table, says to fly 10 minutes and hides in the cabin. I am in complete stupor – from the previous hellish AN-12 got to heaven and it is also AN-12! A woman smiles at me and offers me a tomato...These 10 minutes of flight were the best minutes in the air of my life! Tomatoes are the most delicious fruit in the world. A free hermocabine, a beautiful lady (it turned out that she was the wife of either an assailant or a second pilot). The air story! But it quickly ended, I was landed in Stupino and I continued to get on the electric car. And only in it to me somehow unexpectedly came that from under Ryazan to Stupino I actually got by car stop on the plane! And so far it is my coolest stop :) The stop of the passenger train "Nerungri-Moscow" on the BAE, which led my rating of the stop, firmly went to the backdrop. I don’t know, but I rarely go to space. :)

“You’re loading the dishwasher incorrectly,” I told my wife just before it became my regular duty.

As a child, I played The Sims. At that time the game just appeared and nobody knew the precious code. Consequently, my character did not have a normal home and money. Every day he came back from work more and more upset. As a child, I could not understand what it was.

Why is he crying after work? I was upset with the whole apartment.

What my mother said:

This is adult life!

My daughter has a girlfriend. My girlfriend has a stand. She always talked about him as a guy. For example, “I can’t leave (wherever), Stas is waiting for me.” “Stas is sick, I’m worried.” Everyone thought there was a difficult but strong relationship. Then one day it became apparent that her Stas was a housekeeper in a terrarium.

We are a Jewish family. The philosophy of our people was best understood by my older brother. He is very economical. Just a crap. And he is very beautiful, and there were always girls from the institute behind him. But he cut them all off.

Recently in the store at the box office got in line because a girl counted on the calculator if she was correctly weighed the potatoes. He made a mistake and caused a scandal.

When I got out of the store, he ran to meet her.

Love from the first penny.)

I watched a dialogue at the store today. Hanurick, one of those who go to the store, asks for money from a passing man:

What do you have money for?

Vladimir Volfovich is reminded.

The man could not refuse.

My brother is 47 years old, 115 kg, 4 million debts, three abandoned children from three different wives, no property, lives in rented apartments, then in the corners of friends. They are looking for debts to banks and for non-payment of alimony. Working in a taxi on a friend's documents. He loves to talk to beautiful, young, successful women. They get angry when they don’t want to be friends. And what are they really? :)

In our collective, it is accepted that the name is placed with a cake.

When I saw another cake, I couldn’t remember who dr had today.

When I met in the hallway with one of my colleagues, I quietly asked him:

Who’s Birthday today?

He whispered quietly in response.

Of course, it was uncomfortable in front of a colleague.

The wise have already divorced so much that if you ask for advice in a popular place, then a fight breaks out for the opportunity to give advice.

The story of "Krasnodar monastery" inspired one of the trips to Crimea.
It was somewhere in 2008-2010, I don't remember exactly.(Oh, a glorious time of peace!)
We moved by car from Brest and directly through Ukraine. With navigators at the time was somehow not very, often misled.
Somewhere near Zhytomyr decided to shorten the road, well, and turned, as it turned out, not there. The road was first asphalted, then smoothly moved into the gravian, and the terrain became more and more deaf... Then we were in the forest, and this forest became more and more drizzle and drizzle. It seemed that the dew branches would soon climb over the car.
However, we did not want to go back, on the contrary, it was interesting where it would take us.
Here on the very edge of the forest on the road appeared an old woman with a claw. Just like in the fairy tale, there was only a bump on the fucking legs! The old lady said nothing, only flegmatically guided us by the gaze.
The forest retreated, and a real Ukrainian village opened to our eyes. Alive, without signs of desolation and some sort of hopelessness, which is not counted in the Russian depths.
It was all there: and picturesque houses with white walls and painted windows, and a herd of cows, very impressive, relentlessly moving along the main street to the midday bar. Next to the club was the youth, there was a day off, so the evening was dancing. There was the most beautiful lake.
How good it was there! It’s hard to describe, it needs to be felt...some kind of tranquility. It seemed that it was here when Gogol wrote his "Evenings on the Houthor near Dykanka".
And somehow quite naturally came to my mind the thought: “Maybe we’ll stay here? At least for a day. The sea will wait.”
We stayed in this village, rested, walked, and further on the way.Again, we wanted to travel around Zhytomyr, but it turned out that we travelled through the whole city, and in the center there was some celebration, a orchestra played. Such a dress-up and celebration remained in the memory of Zhytomyr.
And then there were fields, endless yellow-optimistic fields of sunflower, spaces, steppes. We arrived in Crimea and rested. There were friendly and hospitable people everywhere.
To discover the country, it is not necessary to go to the capital or to some open resort. It is there, in the depths, in the village her soul, it is there she is real.There the Ukrainian village near Zhytomyr I remembered for my whole life.And I know, I feel, in Ukraine it is good! It was...
I hope, and will...