It is hard to live surrounded by fucking people who have closed behind their home phones and rejoice that they can hurt someone else. Probably nothing more they can do.

To such a fucking man who lets anyone get in the entrance, I really want to clean up. Thus e. People descended onto the armored door with a code lock, put a home phone, monthly money paid for service... thought they would no longer be in the entrance, burning up mailboxes and doing other mistakes... and in fact, the “blessed man” went on, which still makes the entrance a passing yard. Buy yourself a separate wreckage so that you do not close the door or the cage, you are our goodness. Or in the dormitory eat, there is also in the corridors who just stumbles.

My husband records some of my phrases in a special notebook and makes them sign up, so that I do not scream that I did not say this.)

there there.

"xxx: Today in my programming career came the apogee, I repaired the lift"

The elevator is not a wind, you can’t lift it. Go back in the ass, shit shit.

There is a spider on the wall.
He has no legs and no hands.
He has no eyes and no mouth.
Not a spider, but a spider.

ooo: And I’t be saying so categorically that straight around is completely normal, wherever you can. Real statistics are a little different.
Here I remembered a Jewish joke about a rabbi who advised his adept to marry a crumbling and crumbling bride. They say you marry a beautiful woman, and suddenly - an accident, she breaks a leg, a spine. You treat it, drive it abroad, spend it, worry, nothing helps... And then you take what is already ready.

Forgive me, “neighbors who forgot their keys.” If I don’t know you, I won’t open it to you either, you won’t remember everyone by voice. In the entrance of the tenants of 36 apartments there will probably be someone you know a little better than me - call them. I am a hammock. Yes, if I forget the keys, you may not open them to me either.

and stop. Something in this life I do not understand. I forgot the keys. Allow me to get in, and then what? Sitting on the carpet in front of the door? There are no keys... ah, someone is at home, and the door will be opened? Call the one who is at home. Oh, have you ordered to put a home phone, so that 40 rubles a month for service do not pay? Call your cell phone, let that someone come down and open the entrance door. Which vegetables do you distract with your call? I can have a bowl on the plate standing, I can lie in the bath or sleep at all in the afternoon because I am in the hospital. Your crap is your problem, not mine.

Eat this way:
Eat breakfast yourself.
A friend shares lunch with you.
And dinner with respect brings the enemy.

and men to photograph is pointless - the grandmother's sexuality does not work. Here is who "utyug" gave, he and the sexual.

Another poor man, who was not given because he had no money for a refuge... calm down. If a man is VERY sexy, he will be fed and drunk, and his shirt will be swallowed with his own rope, only if he returns again. Of course, on comrades practicing the sexual technique "cutting on the barrel", this does not apply. Therefore, there is no light for you except for a juice, and it is with one who can not even earn a juice.

The engineer got it all yesterday. I arrived at 11 today with a bottle of cola.
I promised to eat yesterday, I ate!
The second type is a girl:
I respect men who keep their word.

Manicure and male clients. Being the spouse of the manicure artist (in general, a master of manicure, but what if no one had the desire to burn over the manicure? G", let it be a manicure worker), I give information "from first hand". be prepared. The revelation of the century. The truth, the meaning of which will reach only the few chosen.
Here is she - to the masters of manicure go not only to paint the nails.
Yes, I understand that this is reversing your view of the universe, that many will jump out of the windows and open their veins, unable to accept and live with it. But the truth is more expensive - the masters of manicure remove the grown nails causing cracks on the fingers and just hurt, remove skin growths, which, sprinkling, burst to the hurting cracks and increase the risk of infection, treat the broken or weak nails and do a lot more semi-medical procedures, significantly increasing the comfort of people. Yes, and men in particular. Not everyone will suit "masculine" methods of type - "picking a finger? Cut it off with a tail!".

Many years ago this story happened. In our city there was such a “Vietnamese market” where they traded who? It is right! ...which with the Russian was bad......so cheap... Here I chose a leather jacket (very good - I still wear) for the winter, and there are a lot of them, but two essential varieties - with rubber from below or free, I measure, I hold a mirror:

Just like a rubber...

Hahahaha yes! : - )

This is better without a rubber...

Lucy is Lucy! : - )

This one with a rubber, but big pockets, good like...

Haasoo, Haasoo is Haasoo! : - )

It’s like this with pockets, but it’s better without rubber.

and yes! Lucy, Lucy is Lucy!

(At this point I notice that they bring me jackets from other points of the market because the purchase at 18-23KR is not large for them apparently, and I was so sorry for them)

And measuring, I said:

I see you’re trying so hard, I’ve probably already taken you?

Zippo is Zippo! : - )

My name is Andrew and I work as a soapmaker. I live in communion with my neighbor Azat. Once I served him a fermented cabbage from my mom, and he stretched me a triangular-shaped cake, saying that it was a strawberry. I broke a piece, put it in my mouth and the monda kitte bu malai, shundy tamele булды bu echpochmak, min chaini-cheini, шулай tamleep сот belen eche-che arip bettem, annary kiperap usirip ziberdem de yoclarga ittim.

It was in 2001 or 2002. I worked in a computer club. For business, and just for "cruelty" bought a cell phone Siemens A50.

At the very beginning of autumn, because of the cold, decided to buy an autumn jacket on the Chinese market (at the time, the largest choice was there).

We go with my future wife in the rows, looking for a coat of a suitable style, as suddenly a call from a colleague (by the combination of a groupmate) that he can not go out tonight because of some unexpected plans. In the course of the conversation, my wife and I go on in the rows, as she suddenly pulls me by the sleeve, like a posture. I am still standing and talking on the phone.

The Chinese runs and begins to actively show his goods, as they say in the face, to get something and offer to sample.

I show one of the models, continuing to talk.

When I finished, I talked to a colleague. I stop the dialogue (I understand that the price is already being traded):

Seller: - Fuck the boss, I can’t!

I am: four hundred This is maximum.

Seller: Seventy hundred pounds!

I (wife): Let’s go see again.

The seller (with a deep breath): take it! A long tirade on the native language.

I am satisfied with the jacket exactly as I wanted, the price is extremely low, given the normal quality.

My wife and I go away a little, she laughs.

I ask what happened. It turned out that while I was talking to a colleague, she asked for the price. The price was 950 rubles. At the moment when the seller said the price, I said to a colleague, “Are you sick? “What was taken to their address. The answer was “eight hundred.”

Thus, continuing to argue over the phone, I lowered the price of the jacket to 500, i.e. to the cost of starting the conscious, on my part, deals.

Never complain about life, it doesn’t like knockers.

The fact that my husband is sick on the whole head is testified by the fact that he is married to me. He has some incredible number of bits, which eventually start to spread by air droplets to relatives, friends and acquaintances.
One such way is to give human names to uninhabited objects. Not everyone, of course, but only the most worthy. And he not only baptizes them, he also talks to them.

For example, he has a favorite circle. A penguin is painted on the circle. The penguin’s name is Pafnuth.
I once asked:
Why the Paphos?
My husband looked at me surprised and asked:
Well and how?
I thought and understood: really, no more.
In the morning, the husband takes Pafnutia out of the kitchen cabinet and says:
“Well, brother Pafnuty, for a cup of coffee?
In the evenings, they and Pafnoty drink tea, and my husband complains to him about me:
“You see, Pafnuty, with whom do you have to cut the century? Appreciate, brother, loneliness, do not make a penguin.

There is a Bulgarian woman named Zinaida. The bulgarsk is not in the sense of a native of Bulgaria, but in the sense of a tool for cutting metal.
At first, her husband called her Snow, because he believed that the Bulgarian must have a Bulgarian name. However, after getting acquainted with the character of the Bulgarian, he realized that she was Zinaida.
When you need to cut something metal, he gets it out of the shell and says:
Zinaid, are we going to be mad?
And they begin to go crazy. And when they get mad, he puts it in a shell, puts it on a shelf and gently says:
Good dreams to you, Zina.

And in the apartment we live in a closet named Boris Petrovich. So respectfully, by the name of the father, yes.
When we bought the apartment, the first thing we ordered was a closet. And this closet was collected by a collector named Boris Petrovich.
Of course, this fact throws a shadow of shame on my husband, but in fact there is an explanation for it.
In fact, all the rest of the furniture in our house (as well as in the house of my mother, in the house of his parents and in the houses of many of our friends) was collected by the husband himself. And the closet would gather, just spit, but it turned out that on the day of delivery he was on a business trip and had to return only weeks after two.
I categorically refused to live two weeks in the midst of an unthinkable number of boards and boxes, in addition, I could not wait to quickly hang up all my clothes on hangers, so I didn't wait for my husband and invited a store collector. I have regretted it forty times.
The collector Boris Petrovich, coming to visit me, took a one-column bath, and this one-column of the brand "Honey Forest" (or "Russian Field", or "Youth of Maxim" - I don't know) swept the whole house. I escaped from Boris Petrovich’s amber on the balcony.
Boris Petrovich worked concentratedly, relentlessly, with a feeling, with a lot, with a setting, with five breaks for tea drinking. I was very surprised why I didn’t make him company at the table. And I just can’t drink tea that smells of column.
The professional Boris Petrovich, being a collector from God, collected the closet from 9 o'clock in the morning to 11 o'clock in the evening. During this time, my husband could easily put up a two-story house and a bath in the yard.
My things remained lying in the boxes, not knowing the cold of the hangers, because all two weeks before the arrival of my husband I ventilated the whole apartment, and the closet in particular, from the smell of Boris Petrovich. I was even ashamed to ride the subway, because it seemed to me that the whole car was being shielded from me by this cheap killing column.
When the man arrived, there was already a decent atmosphere in the apartment. He joyfully jumped to the furniture renovation, happily cried out, "Oh, the closet!" He shut up, opening the door.
About a minute he came to himself from the smell that came upon him, and then asked me:
Emm... what is that?
“This is Boris Petrovich,” I replied.
This is how our closet got its name, and the collector Boris Petrovich, without knowing it, became his baptist (our cousin, therefore).
Now the husband, going to some important event, advises with the closet what to wear:
– Boris Petrovich, what about the blue shirt?
Or asks for:
Can you borrow a tie, Boris Petrovich?
He hangs his suit and says:
Boris Petrovich, keep it as your honor.

We also have a Stepan magazine table.
Well here it is simple: we bought it in disassembled form, and at home it turned out that the assembly instructions are written in English and Chinese.
My husband first asked me to read the Chinese version, then for ten minutes he was upset that he married some illiterate little girl who didn’t even know Chinese, and then graciously allowed me to read in English.
A cowboy-woman and in English, in general... khmm... But something else.
The instructions were written “step one.” Well, with my pronunciation... In general, the magazine table became Stepan.
When I look for a lighthouse or a magazine, my husband says:
I don’t know where. Ask the Stepan.

We also have a microwave. I know it’s something personal that I don’t need to know.
Because when my husband puts a plate of food into her and gently says, “Warm up, Galia... Do it for me, little girl...” all my questions are stuck somewhere in the area of the thyroid.
A romance of the past.

We also have an electric plywood that breaks forever. Her husband calls her Nadja.
When I asked why Naducha, he replied:
I had one... I also broke all the time.
When he is going to burn her egg in the morning, he always asks:
“Well, Nadjush, will you finally be mine today? Give my eggs a chance.

We also have Raisa’s ashes. The husband claims that that she is Raisa can be seen with the naked eye.
When a man wants to smoke, he says:
Raisa, make a nice company.
And when something distracts him, he puts a cigarette in it and says:
Raisa was arrested.

This infection is viral.
Some of our friends have Phil's TV (because "Philips") and Anatoly's refrigerator (because it's always full of shit, like the pockets of Wassermann's jacket).
Others named the lion from the television Lucy - in honor of a neighbor who is also, according to them, a lion.
The third resides in the laundry machine Love Petrovna. When the car was delivered to them and unpacked, their old grandmother shrugged her hands and said:
Beautiful as the love of Petrovna Orlova!
And even my mom has a teaspoon named Isolda. I don’t know why Isolde. When I tried to figure it out, my mother looked at me as if I had been deceived (but she always looked at me like that), and my husband said with indignation that he had never heard of a more stupid question in his life, and that every fool understands why the spoon is so called.

Actually here.
I don’t know why I wrote all this here... Well, probably to emphasize the idiotism of my family and the comrades close to her.

Theft in the store:
Put money in the bag.
The package costs 5 rubles.
The Thief: The Fuck! (I have my package)

I survive the fourth tenth, and spent all this time just scissors, and existed, it turns out, with growths, cracks, weak and torn nails? What I lived is wasted!

Well! My hands and legs have never broken. He hit, so the ice applied and went on. These idiots in the trauma points with their gips went crazy!

Gorynych was not just a snake, but a green. Therefore, the alcohol was sprayed, and at some distance from the barrel the alcohol was sprayed.

This is why he was called the “Wonder of Evil.” Spray and spray, and why burn?

On each floor, their own 2, + on each floor there is a storage room, where they store inventory, there often and shut down, pour the washing machine, change the clothes, etc. They go out to work on hours, you can’t always see them. I walk by the secretary.
Natasha, where is the cleaning room?
Natasha – what is it?? to
Near the courier guy - guys, on the fourth floor near the seams, the teas chase.

Daddy came and bought tobacco for Kalyan.
Nikhil is so charged.