Snowmen of easy behavior.

Some years, maybe fifteen years ago, celebrated the New Year in the suburbs of Moscow, with relatives. Well, we sat quietly, family-friendly, and in the morning started gathering home, on the first bus. The people were already walking, the streets were quiet, deserted, and frozen. Soon to the stop unheardly rushed the flight Icarus, we entered, and trembled. The entire bus was filled with snowflakes. A dozen two, or maybe three girls, in the same costumes and hats, sat here and there throughout the hall. Who dreamed, who looked into the frosty window, who spoke loudly, or who pulled champagne from plastic glasses. Snowmen were more like watchmen returning home after a difficult shift than passengers on a bus. It even stole a thought, and whether we sat there at all. However, soon after the fractures of the phrases, the mystery of the snowflakes was clarified. The girls of easy behavior returned from some New Year’s event. We settled in the corner, the salon plunged into the usual tree, and the bus rushed further.

While somewhere in the middle of the deserted highway did not stop to pick up another accidental passenger.
The doors opened, the street smelled cold, drizzle, and into the salon, shrinking and scratching, crashed... Santa Claus! The real! Low-growth colorful old man in red caftan, with a support and a bag behind his back. And even his beard was not of cotton, but his own, natural. Grandfather shattered the valves, shaking the snow, then looked at the salon, and he also shook. “Here is yo-yo!” He shook when he saw a snowflake. Then he fixed his hat with the rear side, coughed, and said it loudly, with some strange, loose intonations.
Hi my grandchildren! With New Year! This is me, your grandfather.
The girls woke up and also looked at grandfather in all their eyes. Until one of them said surprised in response.
Good afternoon, new year! And where did you, grandfather, the three-bitch, the devil wear?
Oh my girls! My grandfather breathed, sitting in his seat. Do not even ask!
The girls with curiosity began to draw closer to the old man and sit around. And he took off his gloves, opened a half-slip on his chest, and began the story. From his disturbing story, the following became clear.

Virgos were invited to work for the New Year's Eve in some countryside or pension or sanatorium. According to the script, they should have arrived there two hours before the New Year. Before leaving, the employer suddenly called.
Girls, we are in trouble.
What happened?
Santa Claus, in short, is out of order. Could you take something with you?
Where will we take it for you? The girls were surprised.
And suddenly! Give it up! You still have Moscow. Money is good...
- Well, we will try, of course, but you understand... - the girls answered, and forgot about the strange request. Because well really, well where on the eve of the new year to find a fool who will go unknown where, even for the promised very good money. The girls drove the subway to the end, and went out to the square. There was a festive people here and there, the merchants clashed, near the entrance a tree shone with lights, and around it the joyful and careless citizens with a noisy crowd led the march. There was Santa under the tree. The real! He whispered on the bowl "a tree tree was born in the woods", periodically crawling out of a bottle and smelling another throat with an oak branch. Near his legs lay an open envelope, in which shone little things and banknotes of various dignity. The girls looked around, pushed the crowd, and surrounded the grandfather. And fifteen minutes later, he was already sitting in the embrace with a ballerina in a battle-filled rural bus.

In the warm and damn grandfather smiled, he fell asleep. When I woke up I forgot where and why I was going. He looked out the window, rattled, pushed to the exit, and at the nearest stop fell out. And only when the bus flashed the lights behind the turn, I remembered everything. But it was late. A little standing, he shrugged his hand and walked in the direction of the nearest home.

Have you been sheltered there? I asked the heart-hearted women.
Have you sheltered? Me to me? Grandfather was upset. I barely got out!! Stay and that’s all. For whatever they say, let us not let go! I have a dog alone at home. And so finally! And they fed and drank, and gave money, and with them.
Here, the grandfather pulled the bag in which it whispered, and pulled out the bottle of God.
So what, comrades? My grandfather looked at the salon. Celebrate the New Year? It was so ridiculous.
Everyone laughed and revived. In the bus was fun, plastic glasses went on hand, smelled of mandarines. And soon all who were in the bus crowded around the grandfather, choked, laughed, and wished each other good luck in the new year.

The bus rushed to the end of the subway. The city was extinct and depopulated. There was no trace of yesterday. Only orphaned shimmered the lights of the tree, and the poem was pulling off the asphalt of the fragments of the mishura. At the entrance of the subway, two police officers, a guard from the market, and a couple of citizens of unknown origin smoked.
to Fuji! The security guards whispered, watching the laughing snowballs fall out of the bus.
What have you burned up? The Santa Claus cried out to the police. Do you have a new year?
It was half an hour before the metro opened. Grandfather put the envelope under the tree, and turned the fur.

Taken with a salad olive and drunk with champagne under the throat, the city slept sweetly. And only in the subway two dozen snowmen of light behavior were swirling in the chord, singing with unstable choppy voices "Little tree is cold in winter."
“We took the tree from the forest home!” They sang to them, sinking and squeezing plastic glasses in their red hands, two duty mints, and a couple of casual passers.

And from above, from the cabin, wrapped up on the steering wheel, the driver of the strange New Year's bus watched all this with a smile.

Such a feeling that the old Russian proverb "for fools the law is not written" and the concept of "deputate inviolability" are somehow connected.

Do you say that tolerance will prevail when James Bond is played by a black actor?

In autumn 2012, the film "Marshal of Finland" was released on Finnish screens, dedicated to Gustav Mannerheim. Ethnic Swede Mannerheim in the film played... black Kenyan actor Tally Otienne.
There is nowhere to go any further.

The evening.
She is. Are you ready for tomorrow’s exam?
He is: No.
She: Why are you not preparing?
He: I do one thing.
The next day.
She: I heard, today there will be no exam in administrative law.
He: So it still works.
She: What works?
The Woody Doll works.

A group of people, led by a guide, wander through the jungle.
Next follows the dialogue: (G-Guide) (L-People)

Q: Do you see those ants?
L: Well yes...
G: So if you stretch out your hand and a cobra bites you, we won’t be able to take you to the hospital!
L: It is clear!! to
And the ants can!! to

Only on the mayl.ru forums, the same person, depending on the branch and the news discussed, can work as a slasher and know that VAZs are fucking both for repair and for driving, and at the same time work in the Apple service center and claim that they are sitting out of work because of the fact that the iPhones have nothing and never break and they have no marriage.

I am looking for a shop in the neighborhood with work, stumbled on the children's club of Femida. Feminine is fucking. The Children’s Club.

Recently a friend was on a train for a business trip. Luckily, the car was half empty. But here the four men who were driving in this wagon were so badly stunned. Nothing to do, to spread. I do not go into details, the point is that in the end of one of them, the policemen did land. The men were suddenly obscured by the thought that it was necessary to give this miserable money, so that he could then go home... This is the most interesting thing. They ran after the police, called them and asked to stop. Well, in general, in the end of the day, they were burned for 15 days, because running on the perron for mints ( with good intentions) and shouting nothing but: "Mussorayaa!" is not the best idea.

From Habr:

This typically characterizes developers not as paranoids, but rather as people with abnormal body structure and an alternative worldview, gently speaking.

>> How well you masked the phrase “hands from ass grow”

Urals are less likely to die at work. This is news on E1.
When was the last time you died at work?? to
Yesterday... the important was dying... and today at death...

Comments under video "Counterfeit iPhones crushed by excavator"
Q: When will this be done with corruption?
UUU: Corruption cannot be fought – she knows Judo!

All of us! The husband gave a stunning recipe for icota: drink water from a plate.
No delays in breathing and half-garlic in the ballerina's posture are comparable!

My husband and I bought boxing gloves. We come to the store, we stand, we choose. The Advisor (K) is the following:
Q: Do you want to help you choose?
I: Yes, how do I know what size is right for me?
Q: Well you dress and hit something, if you do not feel the pain and will not slip, then they fit.
Well, I didn't think long, the closest one and hit... Near was a husband, to whom I actually methyl on the shoulder, and accidentally got into the solar plexus. After listening to the compressed “KHEEEE” of a buyer who was bent in half, the consultant rounded his eyes, stepped back a few steps and gave me:
Q: You have such a beautiful coat.

I went to the same store last week. There appeared a sign "Please consultants do not test products".

A comment to the horror on one of the torrent sites:
I looked at the laptop. He went specifically at night to an abandoned house nearby...... briefly wiped out the whole house and all the pants!!! to

Maximus: Yesterday a friend's son was born so yesterday night from the schedule flew out completely.. and this morning at the same time)
Alex: Was another born this morning?
Maximus: No, today I was born )) again learned to walk, to breathe, to eat.

Recordings on the brother's page in the social network:

I want Spanish with a deep cut (
Yesterday at 17:40
......
Spanish guitar with a deep cut under the left hand. The pervers are fucking.
Yesterday at 17:55

;D

In Novosibirsk there are naturally streets Anodna and Katodna. Not just eating, they cross. According to the logic of things at their intersection should be the area of Short Switching.

The first comment to the news "9-year-old boy became a Microsoft specialist"

XXX: Soon, a lot of things become clear.

A normal guy's socks are considered to be finally hollow when you start to think of which side to wear them.

My husband goes to work in the morning:
Something needs to be done to expand consciousness.
Accept the Islam.