Our world has become different. If earlier in the threatened period, the population actively purchased salt, soap and flashbacks, then now - the money stamps of the likely enemy.

A little about coffee.
At the fifth course (1997), to increase my financial well-being, I arranged through my friends to work in Moscow for the Chibo coffee campaign. I never drank coffee before, treated it neutral, well, working there - does not mean drinking it.
I was taken as a merchandiser, the task included controlling the availability of coffee in the stores, the correct arrangement on the shelves, if possible - attracting new stores to distribute this coffee. Chibo knew only that it was German coffee — and nothing more. Six months before this, he was on an internship in Germany, travelled somehow to Dresden, walked there along the shores of the Elbe, where he was surprised to learn that on the slopes of the southern exhibition in the Elbe valley there are seemingly the northernmost vineyards in Europe...
The site for which I was responsible was located in the Krylatsky area, including the beginning of the Rublev Highway. It was here, near the intersection with Krylatskaya Street, that I discovered somehow, while on a free hunt for new shops, the gastronomy "Ezhik". He attracted me with his name, and also wanted to warm up a little (it was October). has entered. With an eye-catching look, he appreciated that "our" coffee is not for sale, but the store is nice, the order is round - there is a chance to lure it into our networks. He asked to bring me to the shop manager, said, I am in the business. I was taken to a small office, packed with cabinets with documents, in the middle - two tables, behind them are sitting two men aged 40 years. I say that I am from the Cibo coffee campaign, I distribute our product, I offer to buy and sell good German Cibo coffee from us, we offer Cibo Families, Milds, Mockas and the coolest – Cibo Exclusive. One of the men suddenly stumbled – German coffee! I say :
Yes from Germany.
Men, almost not a chorus:
Does it grow right there?! to
Here I grew up a little... I don’t drink coffee, I don’t know anything about it, where it grows there – on beds or on trees – I don’t know, while I worked somehow and didn’t think about it. But nothing to do, the main thing is to squeeze the goods!
Yes, I say, it’s right there and it grows!
Men roast: coffee only in the southern countries, go away from here, have had fun for the whole day!
- German coffee grows on the slopes of the southern exhibition in the valley of the Elbe, in the vicinity of Dresden, there it has enough sun on the edge, so it has a very specific taste, but in general - a pleasant drink, highly valued in Europe, finally reached us. Near the coffee plantations are also the northernmost vineyards in Europe, you, as a merchant, should know about them!
The men were silent. The detailed information led them to some confusion: hz, maybe there and really these Germans brought something new... At the prices of coffee acceptable, the packaging is beautiful... They say, let us now make a trial order, see how it goes, we will discuss everything with the management and if it goes – we will take. I filled up the papers and went with them.
The day after 3 was the delivery of coffee to "Ezhik", and after 3-4 days I decided to go to them, see how the different varieties were displayed and offer to place according to our rules. I go to the store. Our coffee stands on a separate showcase, in the right order (recommendations on arrangement to the first delivery were attached), all the way, it’s not for nothing. I ask the cashier how they get. She says that well, the product is new, everyone likes, take, young man, you will not regret. I say it’s me who supplies it. Here my aunt surprised me sharply: hearing this, she immediately stumbled at the whole store somewhere inside the store: "Nicolas, Vasya, he came, go faster!!!". I was more frightened by this reaction than surprised, I think I need to tear my nails before it is too late. But I didn’t have time. The old merchants rushed and put me under their hands in their closet cabinet. They sat on a chair at the end of the table far from the entrance, one was left to guard me, the other went out somewhere right away. But I did not even have time to ask what was going on, as he has already returned, but not alone, but with a tall elderly Armenian. “Here, Armene Wachtagovich, that’s him!” Armene Wachtagovich looked at me for a few moments with some astonishment, then also sat down and got a bottle of cognac from somewhere. The second merchant sat next to me and so they almost surrounded me. "Well, let's drink for the German coffee Chibo, growing on the shores of the Elbe of the southern exhibition," Armén said unexpectedly and all were poured. Despite the fact that I did not drink, I had to apply, because to understand what is happening, I still could not.
Will you order coffee again? I asked to ask something.
The German? I asked the merchant.
“Yes, German, from the shores of the Elbe,” I answered firmly, and imagined a bottle of cognac flying into my head.
Here, these three were roasted, with the merchants almost in one voice, and Armene with a pleasant whisper of a wise man. They rolled on their chairs, beat their hands on the table, pointed to me with their hands and couldn’t stop! I sat, not understanding anything, and knocked my eyes. Then Armene calmed down and said, “Vasily, tell him, he doesn’t understand anything!”
He, with difficulty restrained, said the following. When I first came to them and started pushing coffee, they almost decided to send me. There were many such walks, and I was the fourth to offer them something that day. But they were caught up with German coffee, which, as they knew, does not grow in Germany. But I gave the details of growing, say, geographically unique coffee, and they were a little doubtful about their knowledge. I decided to try and figure out what sort of one this is. After I left, they called Armene (here it turned out that he was the store manager) and told him about the offer. The Armenians laughed at them from the heart (German coffee!), but they told him about the shores of the Elbe of the southern exhibition... They sent someone to the neighboring store for a package of Chibo exclusive, cooked, tried. I liked it, but how could it be from Germany? In short, almost until the morning they first tried to find some information about Chibo on the Internet (and he was very slow and did not work ahti), called friends from other shops, at two nights came to some base to the Koreans, where they were told where he was brought and where he was packed, what was in his composition, etc. During this time, they drank two bottles of cognac and fell asleep in the morning at the office.
No coffee grows anywhere in Germany and has never grown there. Your Chibo is made from Arabica and Robusta that grow in South America, Africa and Asia! In Russia it appeared two years ago (in 1995), and only so few people know about it and you were able to swallow our brains!
They told me a long time about coffee, about its varieties, how and where it grows, where it is made... It feels like they have grown significantly as coffee specialists over that night. And I learned more about coffee during that lecture than before and after... Armene remembered that night, too. He probably hasn’t been involved in such an intellectual drive for a long time to find out what a passing student is trying to do to them... In any case, we broke up very well, and I left with a big order for a new coffee.
I worked in the coffee company for six months, I appeared in "Ezhik" about once a week, and every time my aunt at the box shouted "Nicolas, Vasya, he came!" - and we, waiting for Armene, went to the cabinet to drink, who coffee, who brandy, who coffee with cognac. It was then that I tried coffee, although I became addicted to it later, 2 years later, under different conditions. After I defended my diploma and left the company, for two years I occasionally appeared when I ran past them, but then the store closed and it seemed that the system of gastronomists "Ezhik" disappeared. At least I did not meet them again. Unfortunately, they had the most delicious German coffee from the slopes of the southern exhibition from the valley of the Elbe!

The evil tongues claim that the casino in Monaco has an advertisement in Russian:
Heroes of Labor of Russia are served in general order.

Five years ago, I visited Disneyland with my family. By night, when it was dark, we ran to the toilet. The male was relatively free, but the female formed a decent line. I am standing on the side, waiting for my husband. Suddenly I noticed that there was a man in the line to the women’s toilet. After standing quietly for five minutes, he suddenly began to look around somewhat faintly and finally asked the ladies who stood with him something. I did not hear the question, but I heard a friendly laugh, after which the guy quickly left the line. Later, the wife, laughing, told me that the guy asked, “Which attraction is this line?”

He was with me in Leroy. It’s summer, it’s hot, we’re in line to cut off the board. As always, there are no specialists, the turn of 10 people, we have been waiting for an hour. And here enters the grandmother with the windsurf and says, "Let it go without a turn! » I’m not a ham, but I asked, “Are we here for a joke? Stand in line, like everyone else, and wait.”

And here it came:

You and Ham, young man! I am a sick man, I am sick. Miss it!

With all my respect, but if you’re not well, what hell are you standing behind the boards? A woman with a child has been standing for an hour.

How are you...! Yes I...! You are...!

Those kinds of people

My wife told me a story that happened before we met her.



She went somehow with her friends to a restaurant, of course, drank, ate. They talk, laugh, and everything is fine. In the restaurant, the host announced that in 5 minutes the male striptease will begin. One of his wife's friends, Lena, who has long been married, modest, a rude word from her you won't hear, with all on you, after this announcement in the face changed. The girls were worried and asked, “Len, are you okay?” And Lena says, “It’s all bad! I forgot my glasses!“”

There was a case with me when I was a child when I was locked in the toilet. The handle on the door of our bathroom was round with a button in the middle – this button and closed the door to the lock. I went to the toilet and closing the door, as usual, pressed a button. Maybe I knocked too hard or something broke inside, but the pen remained in my hand! On the other hand, the pen fell off: I heard it fall on the floor. And here, I stand in the toilet, the door is locked to the lock, and I don’t know how to open it. Mom and Dad are at work and will come only in the evening, I am home alone. Crying is useless - it is unlikely that the neighbors will hear me, and the situation is unpleasant, but not critical. So I stayed locked up in a small room until the evening, until my father came and released me. After that incident, he rained for a long time and nodded over me.

I remember when I was a child, I found a puddle in the shape of some megablaster. She was perfect in her hand, and looked roofy! In the meantime, the fox was frozen. So I hid it in the snow and dug it every day and continued to play. It was such a unique fig that when her stool fell, she even tried to “freeze” a new one. But of course it was no longer that.

But these days I was the coolest mega warrior!!! to

When a politician calls the enemies of a country, he always refers to his personal enemies. Do not confuse!

More about the names of the ships (short history https://www.anekdot.ru/id/1290168/ )
In 1939, the light cruiser Molotov was launched and joined the Black Sea Fleet of the USSR. He worthyly conquered the Great Patriotic, but suffered from the exacerbation of class struggle in peacetime. When the Communist Molotov was exposed as a member of the anti-party group, on August 3, 1957, the ship received a new name "Slava".
Nobody remembered that Molotov's name was Vyacheslav.

Ten thousand people are missing, right? And four hundred thousand policemen, there is where to get?! to

Do you complain about a boring movie? You might think your life is more interesting.

We decided to go to Toulouse. A week before the trip, she told her husband, “I feel like someone is waiting for me there. “I am late for a meeting!” My beloved is silent. When we arrived, we decided to go to the store. We stop, get out of the car, and a small piece of wool runs to meet me and blows. He hugged me with his legs and shrugged. I got into the car after the invitation. It was a pure Burmese cat. We dropped it a week before we picked it up. No one was there, they were waiting for us!

The most naive natives not only exchange the gold coils for glass coils, but also give the coils for storage to insidious merchants back into boxes for security. However, they are no different from other indigenous people, who exchange oil and gas for green papers, and the papers are stored in the same boxes where the boxes already lie.

My sister, when she was 12, came home from a drawing group (worked hard, wanted to become an architect). Sitting at the table for lunch, Dad asks her, saying, What did you paint today? The sister pulls out the soup and calmly answers, “The naked man from nature.” Father, I have to say goodbye, but I was slightly drowned. It turns out, the head of a man of a gipsy nature - Plato or Aristotle, I do not remember. The painting was beautiful

I came to take my first-class daughter from school. The teacher begins to say that Masha the girl is counted, but in all the examples cites Harry Potter, and the whole class has already settled on these books, that there are other books... then somehow strangely looked at me and translated the conversation to another topic. All the way home I told my daughter that there were many different books and heroes, and the Unknown, and the Wizard of the Emerald City, the Mummy Trolls, and that she would tell more about them. And then we came home and in the mirror in the hallway I saw that I was wearing a maid with the emblem of Hogwarts.

I remembered. 2013 was a year. I will not name the city. But the essence is this: I come to the station by train and agree to go with the face of an unnamed nationality. He sounds the amount of 500 rubles at first, and when he comes, he says that from me 2000. I shrugged and sent it in three letters, throw 500 rubles on the panel, get out of the car and go to the trunk to pick up the bag. But here this bad man with the shovel breaks down from place. I didn’t think long enough to call the police. Luckily, the crew was still outside of the department guard. They come in, put me in their bowl and in 10 minutes we intercept this mountain eagle in a traffic jamming. In short, for a long time, this eagle was fined (the march and mint cleansed it well). Is that what he thought? I still get bombarded by them when I see these calls at airports and railway stations.

I sit on the couch waiting for the doctor's reception at the IVF clinic, on the side of the box window, and the reception room on the other floor.

A scream from the other floor:

and galia! There now the sperm donor will come in a red jacket, pay him for one serving!

All present (man 10) turn their heads to the door, enters a guy in a red jacket with the face of the jacket color. The curtain.

The lower the ruler falls, the more worship he demands of himself.

Changed rights in the summer. Of course, a certificate from a psychiatrist is required. I don't know how in other cities, but we have to go straight to the psychic. I come, I go, I look for the office I need. And suddenly the look falls on the mirror in the hallway. It turns out that if you look at it from a certain angle, you can see some sort of dressing room, and there are two either trainees or just young nurses. Halatics removed, hanged on the hangover and stand, talk toples. The heat! Well, I have looked. A low female voice brought me out of the thunder: "Who's the man who walks without observation?" I look around, then in the mirror, and I realize that the fool is me. On me, the linen costume is expensive, but in the interior of the psycho he looks like a pyjama. And a stupidly happy expression of the face. Also, not shaved, but naked haircut! I got my certificate in a week.