It was in the USSR that the title of a hero was given to anyone who got it - workers, collective farms, miners, soldiers, but in present-day Russia - to their own, proven billionaires.

There was a date with a man, he has a way of talking - to object to every sentence and tell how to do everything correctly. It was funny, like he asks, “Do you like coffee?I said, “Yes,” he said, “Why not tea? Here you are wrong, tea will be better, it is more useful.” Or asks, “Do you like the automatic box in the car?“I like to say, he says, “No, the machine is full of hernia, it is impossible to ride on it, you know what you are saying at all.” How is it possible to disagree with the feeling of “likes” or “does not like”?

Sometimes he arranged a combo and began to object, not even listening. Asked what soup I like to cook, I began to answer, only said about chicken, interrupted and began to explain that it is necessary to mix different meats, he knows how to correctly, I need to pay attention to his stories and record.



He finally got it when he asked, “Tell me about your last relationship, why did you break up?” I only had time to say, "In general, everything was good, but...", he sharply interrupted me, said, "A, well, I understand, but here I have...." and started complaining about my ex-wife, who had the greed to be dissatisfied that he came from work every evening.

After that, I was tired of trying to break into this monologue with questions purely so that he could move on to the topic he wanted, and collapsed. The emotional feeling of something heavy was then from this communication, as if after some pressure or aggressive behavior.

So I had such a situation. I buy a cupcake from my grandmother in the market. Money only 5000. I give a bill. He says: No surrender, I will come, I will exchange. She took the money. I stand and wait. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. After half an hour, I realized I was dropped. And on the box there was a gram of 400 cucumbers and a couple of packs of cabbage, rubles for 500. He took what was there and went home. At least it was delicious. But the grandmother of Pidar-si is old.

This story was told to me by my wife’s aunt, who from the late 1980s to the middle of the 2000s worked as a tram driver in Moscow.

From the 1st person.

In the mid-1990s. I go by tram, Saturday, late evening, winter, wild ice. And here I see a truck running across my side from the mountain. Probably couldn’t get in, it turned and pulled.

I hit the brakes, turned on the signal, but I still understand that our trajectories will cross.

The sound of broken glass. The tram goes off the rails and stops.

I go to the salon. There are a couple of frightened landers, no injuries.

I went out on the street. The driver runs out of the truck, runs to me and begins to read.

Thank you, thank you very much! Oh how lucky I was! What would it be if not you.

Why thank you for that? Gai will be full of you now. You will also replace your truck at your own expense. If I had stopped earlier, I might not have struck.

Better in you than there. He showed where he was heading.

And there is a restaurant with a parking lot of 600 graces and all kinds of Grand Cherokee.

OSAGO did not exist then, and ordinary people did not drive such cars. The truck driver was really lucky.

One day, my friend and I quit drinking/smoking to run a marathon in a year. They started to work hard, run, watch food. Results are wasted. After half a year, we ran 30 km through the crossed terrain without any problems. Down there, up there. Well, once our comrade, a drunk alkas, who drank vodka for breakfast, decided to run with us the standard route of 6 km. We laughed, but we took him with us. Corche, this guy ran 6km in 24 minutes, against my best score at 28. Sport is shit.

I met on the dating site with a man 42 years old, in the photo and telephone conversation liked, decided to meet in the movie. Wake up, half empty lobby, I go in, I call... and the only person who brings the phone to his ear is his grandfather (in fact he was 65, but he looked older). He was dressed precisely in the sweater "Boys", only such a green-black color, in trays with lamps, in sharp shoes and with a trunk. Suits to me. The further dialogue:

And Anastasia?

and Alexander??? Let me explain!

“Well, I liked the conversation, and if you told me how old I am, you’t even give me a chance.

Alexander, I won’t give him either. Whose photo did you send me?

This is my nephew. In the cinema?

Alexandra, what kind of movie? In respect of your age, will you be taken to the subway?

Do we not go to the movie?

The curtain.

Anyone who has visited the bucks at least once does not want to go back.

Review of Thermos
Once he threw a net into the sea,
I came with a tinnitus.”
by A.S. Pushkin

My friend has a second-class son, a sharp guy and a future blogger-millionaire. His name is Marik.
Today, it is true, he has not a million followers, but a little less, only three: a father, a younger brother and a grandmother.
Well, nothing, if there is not a single video on your channel yet, and you have all three subscribers - it is already a big success.
Here, in the country, on New Year’s holidays, Mark planned to make his first video review. Just watched? A cat soul? It is difficult, she is running all the time at the stage of installation of the stativ. Review of Salute? So he has been shot for a long time, there is only a sealed trace on the snow. Oh, and his grandfather gave him an excellent firm thermos. This is the case, with a thermos review you can get a billion views, if you are lucky.
Marrick installed a stativ in the kitchen, fixed the phone, turned on the recording, entered the frame and began:

“Hello everyone who has not signed up, subscribe to my channel and put likes.
Today I have my new thermos. It contains one liter of tea and the tea should be kept hot for 48 hours.
This is what we will check. I have a cupboard, a cupboard. Don’t come in, I’m going to take a look! Sugar, lemon, thermometer, paper on which we write all the data, a pencil and rubber to attach to the thermos paper and pencil...
So, our tea is ready, we measure the temperature, we get 96 degrees. We close tightly the traffic jamming, the cover, we record everything and we leave. Don’t worry, we’ll see you on the river.”

Mark approached the matter seriously, gathered all the filming equipment in his backpack, asked his dad, got up on skies and went through the forest toward the river. 3 km in total.
I wanted to get to the river itself, but spit, it was very cold, and there was a strong wind. Mark stopped in the snow desert, set up a stand with his phone and continued his video:

“Dear friends, here we are already in nature. There, you see, is a forest, and far away, a river.
So, in a note on the thermos I wrote that the tea poured in at 10.00.
Now at 15:20 we put the thermos right in the snow and we will return here tomorrow at the same time, then we will see what the temperature of the tea will be.”

In order not to lose the thermos in the snow, Mark built a small snowboard next to him and pleased with himself, returned to the country with red cheeks.
The next day, Marrick again picked up his backpack, got up on skies and left to take his lonely, frozen thermos.

The blogger came back very angry, even a little tear when Dad asked - what happened?
Marik quietly laid the bag on the floor, turned it over, three frozen fishes and thermos sprang out of the pack with a wooden knock.
He handed a note to his father and, whispering, turned to the window.

A father read his son’s handwriting:

Drinking tea at 10:00
The tea temperature is 96 degrees.

Then came an adult handwriting:

"Dear, unfamiliar friend, now 9.30, we could not measure the temperature of the tea, because there is no thermometer, but the tea itself is just burning, and most importantly very delicious, sugar in moderation, and also lemon in place. We were six people and we all had enough to warm up.
Sorry for ruining your experiment, as an apology we leave a little of our catch.
Good luck in youth and New Year!

P.S

The snow is beautiful.”

Volodin: The State Duma is ready to discuss the issue of recognition of the LPR and the DPR.

And it is not possible for the Duma to recognize the already existing Russian regions and to deal with their problems?

We have such an active couple. They always have a lot of things to do, but they still have time to go out and play sports. And due to this activity, clothes are chosen as comfortable as possible. All dresses, shirts, eyebrows, cosmetics of the wife are not in motion.

They were invited to the wedding. A beautiful dress, jewelry, makeup was pulled from the distant shelves. She turns in front of the mirror and notices that her three-year-old son is somehow strange, but is watching her closely. She asks him:

Is it okay?

What he gives:

What are you, woman? ! to

AAA: I so house in mortgage took the field for 20 years of different rental apartments. My whole life just turned. You can make shells in the courtyard, the temperature to set in the house any, 300m much larger than the largest apartment, the car does not need to be heated, no lifts, fresh greens grow on the bed, you can boil on the stoves. It’s far away from town, but I don’t go there anymore.



WBW: I added to my list of necessary things to “blow on the sticks”... Thank you.

I am in line for meat in the market. In front of me is a girl aged 25 and a woman aged 50-60.



The girl asks the seller to weigh 300 grams of smoked beef carbonate.



The seller gets from the corner of the window a small dried piece of carbonate hose, from which it is problematic to cut off the piece. He weighs and says: less will be, 180 grams.

The girl replies: I need 300, so little I don’t need, and a piece of old, cut me off from that.

Seller: Well, until I sell this piece, I will not cut a new one.

Girl: You do not have the right, all the product that is placed on the showcase is a public offer, the buyer can ask to cut and buy a piece from any of the big ones.

A seller with an unhappy face unevenly cuts off a fresh piece of 300 grams and sells. When the girl takes the goods, and goes on a decent distance, the seller screams to her: greed is the second happiness, the offer she has, the slug, the smartest?

A 50-60-year-old woman in the next row supports her indignantly:

The whole youth was upset, she didn’t like the restaurant here, she didn’t like the copti herself then. I work out in the store, only you put everything on the shelves, so these fools climb deep, and pull out the freshest. There is no sense to understand that first you need to sell goods with a earlier expiration date.

Don’t talk, you ungrateful people!  What to you?

Woman: Oh, and I also have a carbonadic hi-hi. of 200 grams. Just don’t give me that piece, we’re almost colleagues!

The Russians have another holiday: now in addition to the Old New Year, you can celebrate the Old Retirement.

He worked as an inspector of the DPS. I am standing at the crossroads, order. At this time, a six-seven-year-old girl is crossing the road on the red signal. I supposedly stop her, sit down and start reading the lecture:
What is your name?
and Tanya.
“Tanya, do you know that you can’t cross the red? Cars are driving, the driver might not have time to slow down and would crash you. Your parents would be upset and cry.
The answer is superb!
They still have a bathtub!
And with a joyful face he ran on the sidewalk.

In the legendary Soviet Union, very many citizens pulled home from work as much as they could. Even to nails and canvases. The current authorities have been able to bring order. Only those who are allowed to steal.

xxx: Once the bottle of beer did not bring to the house, opened on the road, under the law of wickedness, I was stopped by ppsniki, taken to the department, issued a drink and why the fingers rolled off, fills one card and in the column "body" writes "sporty", I was so pleasant, the best compliment! : 3



Joy in the little things. and praise)

It was three years ago. Samara, the time is around 23:00, transportation is no longer going anywhere in principle. I call Yandex.taxi (then there was no Go) to the South City. The tariff is economical. The rugged Nexia comes "on an honest word and on one wing" with the numbers of 16 regions. Okay, I sit down, we touch, here the driver looks at the navigator and says:

What, do we go through the menta?

- Well yes, there near the "Ambar" [trade center] GIBDD post

We’re not going anywhere, go out.

On the question “A, what?”

The sun shines the same for everyone, but it only warms differently.

In the mining lava brigade worked a Georgian. While his countrymen traded fruit on the market, he used it in the mine. And not so much because of the money he became a miner, but because of the opportunity to buy a new car. In those distant years, the car could not be bought freely, especially just from the conveyor. At the enterprise it was necessary to "stay in line" (as we were told), not to have flights into a drunkard and into a monkey in a hooligan, not to work, after the sleeves. In general, the car could be counted on advanced manufacturers with solid experience in the brigade. Georgia was one of them.

A part of the salary the son of the Caucasian mountains sent to relatives to Georgia, some part was deposited in a cubic and "living" too. Meanwhile, the car was moving forward. And it happened that the new batch of cars came quite quickly, and the Georgian was among the lucky ones. He is a five-minute driver.
You have to pay the entire amount at once, and it is not small at all. He calculated his cube, but the amount is insufficient. Comrades at work helped as much as they could, but it still lacks a lot. It is now possible to call relatives and friends on the mobile phone and in a couple of minutes you will be credited with an amount on the card. Previously, there were no such "flavors" - neither a mobile phone nor a plastic card. The transfer of money took on modern standards for quite a long time. In this case, it was not the way out.
Georgians addressed one of them:
Listen, you are in the car. Let’s go to the city market.
The Comrade agreed:
We went, we went.

We went to the covered market. Salad, meat, honey is not all that. The Georgian directed to the trade rows with fruits to his countrymen. I negotiated something with one merchant, went to the second, the third, went through the whole row. Comrade observes from the side, yet does not understand what they are talking in Georgian.

Men of the Caucasus admirably touch their tongues, gesture their hands, joyfully express emotions among themselves. One after the other, they took money from the Georgian miner. He recountes them, hides them in his pocket, writes something in a notebook. It was only half an hour before the required amount of money was collected.
They go back. Georgians are interested in:
Are they relatives or friends?
The Georgian answered:
and no. I know none.
Comrade surprisingly barely dropped the wheel from his hand:
How did they give you money if you didn’t know them?
The Georgians were surprised:
How is it? Asked and gave. I told them where I work, their home addresses, and how much they owe. From receipt, I will send money transfers to addresses.

On the same day, the money for the new car was paid in full, and soon in the brigade another car enthusiast became more. The Georgian continued to work in the mine and gradually paid back the debts to his countrymen. When the last ruble of debt was closed, the Georgian on his car left for Georgia.

In terms of the level of cynicism of all surpassed our neighbor Fima, who at 2 o'clock in the night behind the wall thrown in karaoke the song of Zemfira "Would you, I kill the neighbors, which interfere with sleep?"