When I was a student, I worked in radio. He received an unusual task for the green young man - to carry out a patch cord outside the building under the roof. Since it required permission for high-altitude work, which I did not have, I was sent to the office of the security technician for instruction.

The instruction turned out to be short: "Don't get there," the person in charge said and extended the journal to me for signature.

I followed the instructions, it really works.

Wood cuts are wood cuts of non-traditional orientation.

decided to buy a car. Then it was still real, that without loans, without debts, but immediately - went and bought. The “Seven” is not the first freshness, but immediately. Well, we went and bought it, and went on it to the dacha. So much can be taken! Parents carry something on their own, we carry something on our own, and not plant, forgive God, with mattresses, but a boat, a child, a shale and a boat. My husband is not driving. Nothing at all. never ever. None of once. The cars he calls “collected iron.” It characterizes him. I dislike my husband for that. My car has a name. And it’s not “iron” at all, but even the Wolf (sorry). The husband after the shawls and hips penetrated. Once he is a wolf, he says, they went, you will teach me. It was no other than oxygen. Okay, I think let it. My father drove me off the car when I was two years old, and since then I have not been able to get out. What will I teach my husband? She cut off her hands from the ground, fixed the cushion, took a sarafan. And we went. On the track, on the village road, through the lawn, then the woods, to a distant field. No one should see this shame. Around the crap is such, the field is infinite, the circle is round, the birds again, and I am not silent about the grip, gas, brake, more accurately your mother, let go, press out, and not the second, but the first, I said! Go out to the fucking grandmother! Okay, get on the road. And all that, to the damn grandmother! My husband went. Wheel wheels for water. Exactly as it was for them, it was perfect. Only the wheels do not get to the bottom. I say, go and push. I don’t think it’s going to push, of course, but at least I’ll take revenge. They stood for a long time, listened to the birds, admired the harvest. The distance just stopped. I looked at the dirty man and cried out. He looked at me in the sarafanchik and the coconut. It is. I pulled the wolf. I took it to the side of my husband, and to his ear, but so that I could hear every word, clearly: "Man, my advice to you, like a brother, grandmother, especially a blonde, never, ever, do not drive!"

Is it Putin’s fault that the economy is collapsing?
What do you think is his merit?

Imagine your parents’ careless faces when you take away a vacuum cleaner or refrigerator when you move away from them, or anything else they supposedly gave you for your birthday as a child.

My colleague had a poltergeist at home.



I picked up the tree on Friday night and put it in the corner. I come from the store on Saturday, she stands in the center of the room. I was surprised I didn’t have a cat, but I moved back. When I was in the kitchen, I heard a noise. I look into the room, the vacuum cleaner moves her diligently into the middle of the room. The most important thing, I calmed down. independently

Did you put it in the corner again?

No and I will not. I liked the tree in the middle of the room even more.



Interior design is a rather unexpected feature for the vacuum cleaner.

As a child, I was constantly confused in which direction to twist and twist the hooks. But one day, once again asking my father, I got a mnemonic rule that I still use. He replied, “If your head is opened, you will be against it.”

A relative is sick. As a doctor, I accompanied her to the hospital. While there and there, the design in the receiver, the rise to the department, the chamber - along the way you communicate with many. He has worked in this area for more than 20 years. Almost everyone knows me, and I know almost everyone.

They took a relative to the chamber, put her in a prepared bed, began to inject her. Everything seems to be fine, the process, as they say, went. I see, and in the next bed, about my years old, a lady, unfamiliar. I greeted her on the occasion, asked how to do so as not to offend the unintentionally. She answered, and we talked a little with her. She turned out to be a long-time patient from Zalukodes (it lived in the Zolsky region of Kabardino-Balkaria). In that village, your submissive servant practiced as an ambulance. This was in 1986-88. A lot of water has leaked, yes.

And suddenly this patient says one unusual thing.

I asked if I remember her sister. Sorry, I answer, I do not remember. Almost three dozen years have passed.

The patient says:

You helped her very much, actually saved her from death. Then she lived another twenty years.

- What, it happens, - not without a shadow of humor I answer - this is our job. Thank God I was able to help her.

Do you know what she told us later? I was at the meeting then, and she asked that if a boy was born, he would be called Arsen. In your honor. For your kindness and attention.

With these words, she took the phone out of her pocket and showed a photo of the young man:

Here it is, your headache.

To confess, I was confused. I was surprised and a little embarrassed by this fact. I did not immediately find what to answer. It felt like this guy was some kind of my child who was born outside of marriage. You know when he is already an adult. It turned out to be some subtle, like a thread, but a relative connection. The patient looked at me with a gentle look, and I was somehow uncomfortable. But at the same time it is pleasant somewhere. Probably not in vain we are killing in this eternal messy work.

I thanked the patient for the kind words, and wished that my life was long and happy. And that the upcoming operation itself will be completed easily and safely.

A year and a half ago I worked in an investment company... The company was on track with time and at one moment introduced a new program that, when you assign a meeting to a client, automatically sends him a message: “Dear Ivan Ivanovich, we are waiting for you at the address of XXX at 10.30.”



Who thought, I don’t know...



The system is designed to increase the number of meetings - so that the client does not blink and do not blink. In fact, the number of meetings has decreased dramatically. They understood – why?



I found out.



tk. Customers are not always present at the first meeting and by phone, we killed them in the base as we could. Now customers are sent messages such as: "Dear Fat on Lexus, we are waiting for you to meet at the address..."

The pleasant must go from the opposite.

The story of the "cat telepatic"
A cat, or rather a cat, drowned in a plastic bag. He got up the top and tried to breathe. When I caught a plastic bag with drowning kittens, it was left alive alone. Wet and dreaming of only one thing - to breathe. It was 1999. Thin, blind, not understanding what is happening.
When I got home, I realized we were going to divorce. “What is this ugliness?The ex shouted. “Do you know he’s blind?” I fed the cat from a pipette, and turned away from the sex cloth, which the former did not spare. Can you tell me I am allergic? Can you see that he’ll wipe it all?”
Basya slept on my arms, then moved because he grew up, and slept on my stomach. I was so relieved when we divorced. It was probably 2001 or 2002. 11 years of loneliness. I worked all the time, I am a big director of a huge company. Basha asked for only one. Eating and sleeping on my stomach. Remove the toilet. I went out with a cat every day, I went on vacation with him, the cat visited the United States and the Maldives. Until the null year of 2011 has come. I remember the night of December 31 for a moment. There was nothing to eat, I thought to buy a chicken and a salad to celebrate, but I sat in the office so much that I came home at 7 a.m. He fed the cat, opened the long-presented whiskey, and we sat in the kitchen, under the TV. There was light outside the window, and so I got sick, I cry, I can't calm down, straight offensive. That I am alone, that I am soon 40 years old, no wife, no children, and for whom it’s all... I think I’ll sleep. He pulled the cat off his stomach and lay somewhat more free. And here is dream. A cat comes in a dream and asks, “Do you really want a family? Will you drive me out when a child is born? Will you never drown me like in that plastic bag? Are you going to chew me like before? “I’ll find you a woman.”

I wake up from the fact that Basya vomits, bites my legs, breaks my leg straight into the blood. He got up and went to the pharmacy. January 1, 12 in the morning. They stood in a line of two people, the cashier stumbled, there was time, they talked, two months later they married. A boy was born who loved the cat. Basha died yesterday, he lived 19 years. He came to me in a dream for a couple of weeks and said, “I’m dying. I am sorry.”

In Davetsk, one MP proposed to trade licenses for the shooting of rare animals. The funds are used to increase the number of people shot. If you sell licenses to shoot deputies, then the funds will be enough to restore populations of both rare and rare animals.

There was a lawyer at our office. An intelligent man who has never been without work. Contractual matters, lawsuits, courts, claim work with debtors, etc. He never refused help to employees. He was indeed a good lawyer. But he was paid well, because he worked well. At some point, the director decided that he was paying too much and offered to move him to a fixed s/p with prizes. You don’t lose anything, but I’m more comfortable counting. But he refused. After long discussions and misunderstandings, they decided to quit.

But the director decided to save and transferred the main functions of the lawyer to the girl of the businessman, who previously only engaged in public procurement. She has a legal education, but no experience.

As a result: the girl failed, tears, hysteria and dismissal on her own. All legal work is done. He is now looking for a lawyer with a qualification for low z / p or jur. A company that will take over all the work for an outsourcing for a small fee. On the same robberies twice.

I asked him to take that guy back. He himself was not against. But such a man without work and weeks did not sit, already working for a competitor.

Those who call the light in the distance are no different, they are dark.

and allo? Is it a bank?
My name is Anna, how can I help you?
Your coat has been eaten! I will not pay the loan anymore.
*** by
Three months have passed...
Rise up! The trial is coming!
Your honour! In autumn last year, I borrowed for five years a nork coat, the season in it went away, everything was fine. But in the summer, the shirt ate the mole! Therefore, I stopped paying the loan and demand compensation from the bank for damages, moral damage and legal costs.
- Why did you decide that the bank is responsible in the event of eating a shovel?
- Here, in the loan agreement, it is written that until the full repayment of the loan, the shub is the property of the bank. The bank has not kept my assets in proper shape, why should I continue to pay for it?
Sorry, your honor, the bank is opposed! Is it stated in the contract that you can use a shirt? What is the fault of the bank?
Your honour! I have no complaints about the use of the shoe to the bank! I’ve been wearing clothes all season and it’s been fine. But tell me, who wears a shirt in the summer?
“Since you wore the jacket in the winter, you should have kept it until next season!
Please show me in which paragraph of the contract it is written? Do you have a separate storage agreement with us?
But the use of the shovel involves its storage between seasons and processing from moles.
- Your honor, at the end of the season, when it was time to clean up the winter stuff, I called the bank to consult on the issues of storage of their property. I even have a recording of that conversation.
Is this a bank?
My name is Sophia, how can I help you?
- I took the nork shirt in credit, through your bank, please check if there is a debt. Contract number 375 split 18 three zeroes 24185
One minute, Olga Pavlovna
Yes, it is me.
There are no debts, payments are made on time. Can I help you something else?
Can you tell me how to store this jacket in the summer?
Sorry to? I do not know. Hang it somewhere.
Can I leave it in the closet? Are there any additional storage requirements?
- No requirements, leave in the closet if you feel comfortable. Something else?
No thank you.
Your honour! The bank protested. The client asked the operator a question in which she is not competent!
Your honour! If the bank’s operator is not competent in such matters, why didn’t she transfer me to the specialist of the bank responsible for the interseason storage of shells?
There is no such department in the bank.
Very interesting! Do you have clothes and do not have a storage unit?
The protest was rejected!
- And in your presentation, how should we ensure the preservation of the shoe?
Why are you asking me about this? This is your coat, and you need to think about how to keep it so that I can continue to use it! You are not concerned about your property. Are you trying to blame me? will not come out! I will not pay for my shirt!
The court is removed for a meeting.

When Kafka, Orwell, Pelevin, Sorokin, Vojnovich were sold in Russia, it was funny, but when the Unknown on the Moon and Chipolino were sold, it became scary.

The butterfly is born to crawl, but it flies!

In 1868, the French merchant Jacques Bryan came up with, as he thought, a wonderful way to get rich. After the fierce success of the Orenburg floats at the Paris World Exhibition, French, London and Berlin fashion women struck their husbands, demanding to buy them a shell or sweater from the world's thinnest Orenburg floats. It was almost impossible to counterfeit Russian products: even the fur of Angora goats was one and a half times thicker than the Orenburg and after a long socks slid and fell, while the strange Russian t-shirts, violating all the laws of nature, became softer and fleasier. Demand grew, French ladies waited for three to four months for orders for Orenburg t-shirts, and Russian merchants, engaged in the sale of puffy products, were soon hanged with gold watches, diamond rings and silver chains, like Gypsy barons.

Jacques Bryan decided to buy beautiful Orenburg goats in Russia and breed them on a farm near Toulouse, and patent his products. Having drawn up a plan to wipe the nose of Russian trade, Jacques went to St. Petersburg, taking with him as an interpreter the elderly messier de Auguste, who in his youth was a teacher of French at a landlord estate. The journey did not happen from the very beginning: on the way to St. Petersburg, the sea was storming all the time, and Brian's messenger turned out several times a day, so that he walked on Russian soil losing five kilograms. And when the railway ended, and I had to get to the Orenburg hole, trembling in the chariot on the wheels, the old messier to Augustein accelerated the ischias. Hundreds of kilometers under the accompaniment of the old nuts: "Sitting in Toulouse, eating croissants and drinking croissants" - not everyone is able to withstand this. But Jacques Bryan was a strong nuts, and the breadth of Russian spaces did not scare him.

On the advice of knowledgeable people, Brian sent letters in advance to three Orenburg landlords, who were famous for the best goats - the landlord's people, who came without an invitation to the explorer, could, for good, point to the side and send them without goats and without money. Of the three recipients, one goat farmer Losev, a large landlord, whose possessions were located 25 verses west of Orenburg, responded to the French proposal.

Losev, a possessor of large buttocks and a great practical mind, sent the guards ahead and met the guests while they were riding the steppe. Being convinced that before him there were neither barracks nor starvation, he invited the French to the lord's house, fed, according to the Russian custom, until the outbreak, and advised Mr. de Auguste to apply from the sciatica a compress from the cabbage leaf and black radish.

When it came to the auction, Brian asked what price Losev would give him a dozen goats and a dozen goats.

“A thousand rubles in silver,” said Losev modestly.

A thousand rubles? But this is a robbery, messie, for this money you can buy thirty great horses!

You didn’t ride five thousand horses. And the road here and back will cost you both half that amount. The deal was fair.

The French tried to trade, but Losev was relentless. Tom was cut off. Brian personally examined the goat and goat, signed a deal, received a puppy shell as a gift for his wife and went home with a well-depleted wallet.

Goats, like unpretentious animals, survived the journey safely, and Brian has already begun to count profits in his mind.

But it was worth the goats to find themselves on a French farm, on bay lawns and in an excellent insulated camp, as unexpected problems began. Three months later, the wonderful puch, without waiting for the first haircut, began to fall and hang on the goats. The concerned Frenchman urgently telegraphed to Orenburg: "The hair is rotten. All the goats in cows. What to do?” Soon came the answer: “I know how to help your burn. I will send you a recipe for 1000 rubles. The Loss.”

Brian immediately collected the money and deported him to Russia. Losev did not lie and sent a recipe: in order for the puff to be thin and sprinkled, you need to feed the goat in the morning and evening with a crushed crust, and water it with mineral water. Cut the old, corrupted wool so that it does not hinder the growth of a new, silkish.

Brian immediately ordered a monthly supply to the farm of one hundred barrels of mineral water from Grenoble, and a huge cane cube was brought from the carrier: Brian's pregnant wife tried the mill and found it to taste good.

So the thing went: at 8 a.m. and 8 a.m. the animals were fed with sludge, and the messenger Bryan personally watched for his goats to drink only the expensive mineral and would not swallow during the day water from any sludge.

After three months of such a diet, a new one grew up in the place of the old shrinking feathers, which no longer climbed or collapsed, but was much rougher and shorter, and almost no different from the wool of ordinary French goats.

In desperation, Bryan sent another telegram to Orenburg: "The goats had a rough wool. Everyone has one. Please help with advice.” Soon came the answer: “I know how to save the situation. Get a recipe of 1500 rubles. The Loss.”

Brian cried out from the annoyance, but put it in the safe and sent more money to Russia. The rescue recipe did not make itself wait: you mel-to let us less, Losev wrote, and in the evening feed the goat with vegetables: pumpkin, carrots and cabbage in equal proportions. On one grass, goats will not give puff, because there is not enough potential in the body.

The Frenchman immediately committed to correct the mistakes and began to increase the capacity of the goats. The animals began to get the best cabbage and carrots from the surrounding farms, the reception of the meal remained only for breakfast, and, in addition, on the advice of one peasant woman, a special soft bed was brought to the goat farm so that the animals felt complete comfort and did not experience stress.

Three more months passed, the goats were noticeably amused by the good content, the nausea grew, but the ugly puff fell all out finally. Messier Brian drove veterinarians from all over the province to the goats, who were looking for a skin disease, but when neither depriving nor parasites were found, it remained to resort to the last remedy, and Brian again sent a telegram to Orenburg.

The goats lost their last poop. Please help. No means helps.”

Losew replied, “It’s an eye. There is an ancient rite for cleaning cattle from rot and dirt. Send 1500 rubles. The Loss.”

What was Brian doing? He sent Losev more money, and after some time he received a envelope sealed with a surgeon stamp. In the envelope was described how to remove the spoil.

“At full moon, take 300 raw eggs, 25 pounds of olive oil, 25 pounds of talc, half a pound of beetle flowers, mix and rub the goats in their sides three days in a row.”

Waiting for the full moon, Brian, not trusting anyone such an important procedure, personally broke in a large pelvis 300 eggs, weighed with accuracy to a gram of oil and talc and prepared ointment. Three days in a row he dried the goat with this ointment, which, by the way, on the third day began to dive with a dried egg, although it was put in a cold cellar for the night.

The result of all the efforts turned out to be zero, except for the fact that for the goats in the first days flew whole clouds of flies and cattle, attracted by the sharp smell of unfresh organic matter.

Here to messier Brian came on summer vacation nephew from the University of Lyon. Listening to the story of the horse-animal husband, he decided, “Here’s what, uncle. Stop tormenting the goats. Before you, an English scientist had already tried to grow long-haired Mongolian goats in Dartmoor - three years later, there was nothing left of their long wool. The climate is not that. In the Orenburg province in the summer +40, and in the winter minus 40, here the goats and appeared this thick protective puff. In Toulouse, where there is no snow in the winter, this protection is useless to animals.

Since then, Jacques Bryan began to respect scientists even more, abandoned the goat and engaged in winemaking.

The advice of the day in a women’s magazine: “Be sure your vibrator and electric shocker are of different colours.”

As a 12-year-old, I was walking with my dad in the summer and we were captivated by the smell of shale. I don’t know what kind of child foolishness it was, but I decided that I’t eat a shale. I decided to try the ribbons. They were brought with a huge kissman and had to cut them through with a dull knife and bite the flesh, breaking and stretching the ribs with small child palms. I refused my dad’s help and towels, and he quietly watched all this wildness and atrocity. When I finished, he said the following:

"You know, in a few years you will become an adult girl, boys will start calling you on dates... and when you are invited to a restaurant... you just... well you know... don't order a shorter ribbon.