xxx: I went home from work, a friend called, a few minutes of my monologue and attempts to engage the conversation were not crowned. He said he was tired for today, and if she doesn’t want to maintain the dialogue, then I’ll probably turn off.

She hasn’t spoken to me for a week.



YYY: With such shit, the main thing is to be the first. Tip: Lena, did you call me to keep silent on the phone? I worked all day and very tired, and now you call me and I try my best to be positive for You, but apparently you don't need it..." Let her sit down and think what a hate she is.

And yes, you thought right. I have not had sex for a long time.

Once you wake up, you will realize that life has passed.

apples

- Son, buy apples, your own, home, not drip.
It was this “not drippered” and made Alexander stop and turn around. This is what his grandmother always said in a distant childhood: not to spray, but to splash.
“Not spotted,” he said, he approached the bench.
The old lady with a bunch of apples resurrected and said quickly:
- Not drippled, not drippled, from his tree in the garden, this year a apple has been born, like never before. You do not see that they are not as large as the merchandise, but the imports, God knows where, there eat more than apples. And this is ours, the locals, her hands quickly picked up the apples, showing the buyer the goods from all sides. They smell like apples, and they are delicious, you try, try. Here, look, look, - with some enthusiasm continued the grandmother, stretching the apple, on which there was a small brown mark - you see, even the worm eats them, because they are not drip.
Alexander laughed after these words:
Are they all worms?
“No,” the old lady shrugged her hand with an apple, “look, all the whole, this one got, I didn’t take care. Well, the worm also eats, so it is harmless for a person, I say, not drip.
Alexander these apples were not needed for nothing, he simply, passing through the evening market, cut a corner on the way home. But something in the form of this grandmother, in her way of speaking, in her open and blameless gaze, in her way of convincing the worm of the truthfulness of her words resembled his native grandmother. Some, long forgotten, feeling of a warm wave spilled in her chest, and Sasha wanted to do something good for this old lady who was trading at the marketplace. Therefore, without negotiating, he bought two kilograms of these apples, not knowing why, telling him that his son fell ill at home (he is generally poor in health), coughed and his wife was in a position, and that, probably, it would be useful for them not to eat drip apples. In general, not understanding why, Alexander shared with this stranger the most secret that tormented his soul.
The grandmother wept, breathed, nodded her head, saying that now the old are healthier than the young, because, is there food in the cities now? This is a solid chemistry, and the air itself here is heavy and sick. He cried and agreed. When he was about to leave, the grandmother suddenly grabbed him for the hand:
- Listen, come here tomorrow, I will bring you a slice of dried raspberries with sweetened sugar, the first thing from the cold. So I bring you, you come tomorrow.
Alexander went home with the apples and smiled, it was fine in the soul, as in childhood, when the grandmother smooked her head with her shrimped hand and said, "Nothing, Sashok, everything will be fine."
*** by
He did not know his parents of Sasuke. The grandmother said that she didn’t know his father, and the mother... the mother was untrained. As she brought it one day from the city, in a blanket wrapped, so she went back. She promised to take her life as she would, and so she died.
I loved Grandma Sasuke. When she sometimes breathed hard in the winter evenings, recalling her missing daughter, pressing her grandson’s head to the chest, kissing him, he said:
Do not cry, ba. When I grow up, I will never leave you, I will always live with you. Do you believe me?
“I believe, Sasuke, I believe,” Grandma smiled through tears.
When Sasha was twelve years old, her grandmother was gone. So he found himself in the school-internat. Grandma's house was sold by some relatives (that is, when they lived together with grandmother, Sasha thought that they were alone in the white world, and when it came to the inheritance, there were a lot of applicants).
Who lived in a nursery, it is not necessary to tell all the "charms" of staying in such institutions, and who did not live, he will not understand until the end. But Sascha did not break and did not follow the curved path. He served in the army and acquired a profession. He was not lucky with the girls. And although Sasha himself was a tall, athletic, cute guy, all his friends, learning that he was an orphan, quickly disappeared from his horizon. Therefore, when five years ago he accidentally encountered in a supermarket with Svetka (they were raised in the same kindergarten), he was delighted as the most familiar and close person. The light was very pleased to meet. Six months later they got married, a son was born, and now they are expecting a daughter. In other words, life is fine.
*** by
- Light, I bought an apple here for you and Deniska at the marketplace, home, not drip, - I stretched the package to my wife.
The light that grew up from birth in the children's home missed all these epithetes by the ears. She washed the apples, put them in a large plate and put them on the table. Half an hour later, an apple smell came out.
“Listen, what cool apples, and how they smell,” said Light, wrapping them on both cheeks with her son.
So home, not dotted.
That night Alexandra dreamed of a grandmother. She grabbed him on the head, smiled and said something. Sasha couldn’t find out the words, but it wasn’t important, he knew that the grandmother was saying something good, kind, affectionate. From which flowed peace and happiness, forgotten happiness of childhood.
The sound of the alarm interrupted the sleep.
All day at work, Alexander was not on his own. Something bothered, some incomprehensible grief bit the soul, periodically climbed to the throat. Returning home, he caught himself in the thought that he really wanted to see that grandmother with the apples on the market again.
*** by
Evdokia Stepanovna (so called the grandmother who traded apples) walked around the courtyard, breathing hard, wiping away the tears that ran into her eyes. Long ago, her eldest son died in the performance of official duties (he was a firefighter), not even had time to get married, and the youngest daughter, a beautiful and clever woman, when she studied at the institute in the capital, married an African and went into a hot climate, where bananas and pineapples grow. Her deceased husband long busted and cared about it. And she what? She just cried, feeling that she would never see her girl again. So it went. As long as her husband was still alive, she was alive. What to do when life is like that? And as two years ago the husband disappeared, the light in the soul of Evdokia Stepanovna died. She lived more by habit, asking God to take her quickly into the kingdom of peace.
This young man who bought apples yesterday wasted her soul. After all, a stranger at all, and how well he spoke to her, did not go away... Something was in his eyes... some hidden grief, pain, she immediately felt it. Her maternal instinct broke through in the words: "Come here tomorrow, I will bring you a slice of dried raspberries with sweetened sugar, from the cold the first thing. So I’ll bring you, you come tomorrow.”
And right now, wrapping in the newspaper a bowl with raspberries, Evdokia Stepanovna unwillingly smiled, thinking what would be like to seize for this guy and his family. She really wanted to delight a person and, of course, talk a little more like yesterday.
*** by
Yesterday's place behind the shelf was occupied, and Evdokia Stepanovna settled nearby, in the neighboring row. Having laid out a bunch of apples, she focused all her attention on the passing people, so as not to miss it.
People returned massively from work. By this time, Evdokia Stepanovna was finally upset. "Here is the old fool, directed herself, invented... and who to listen to and believe a strange grandmother," she thought annoyingly, and the eyes looked at everything and looked at a familiar silhouette in the crowd.
Alexander yesterday did not give special importance to the words of the grandmother about the lip and raspberries. “These baccarat grandmothers will say what you want, only to sell their goods,” he thought. “Will he really come? It doesn’t look like an experienced, fighting trade. The worm showed... just invented...” he smiled, remembering the face of the grandmother, with what warmth she spoke about the worm. “Oh, what a difference, anyway, I go through the bazar, I look, suddenly it stands.”
Sasha turned to the part of the bazar where the grandmother with apples stood yesterday, went along the shelf, the grandmother is not visible. "Thu, fool, was divorced like a little boy, good that yesterday, with a fool, Svetka did not boast of the promised strawberry." The mood instantly deteriorated, without looking at the sides of Sasha accelerated the step.
“Milok, I’m here, here, standing,” a loud cry came out, and Alexander saw yesterday’s grandmother rushing to him.
She joyfully grabbed him for the elbow, pulled after him and tweeted:
- The place was occupied, I stood next to it, afraid, missed, thought, would you come? I brought it all, and suddenly I didn’t believe my grandmother.
The grandmother was all "tarahtel" and "tarahtel", but Alexander did not listen to the words, he for a moment moved his soul into childhood. This manner of conversation, individual words, expressions, hand movements, a look in which the desire to please a person with his actions was hidden, all this reminded him so much of his native grandmother.
He asked, how much she ought, Evdokia Stepanovna shrugged her hands, saying that it was she who had cooked for herself from her bushes, and it was necessary to take it as a meal. And she also said that her raspberries are not sorted, but also the old one, not so large and beautiful in appearance, but real, odorable and very useful. And Sascha remembered his grandmother's raspberries, her smell and taste, and also for some reason he remembered the potatoes. Yellow inside, it looked so appetizing in the plate, and delicious what. After his grandmother’s death, he never ate such potatoes again.
Do you have yellow potatoes inside? He broke the old lady.
- There is a yellow and white, and the one that is well cooked, and hard for soup.
- I like yellow, her grandmother in her childhood always cooked, - dreamingly said Alexander.
Tomorrow is Saturday, weekend. And you come to me in the village, you will see what potatoes I have, I have a lot more... I am old already, it is hard for me to drag my bags, and you are young, here and go somewhere nearby, just forty minutes on the electric car. Come, I will not hurt you.
And Sasuke went. Not for the potatoes, but for the warmth lost from childhood.
*** by
Two years passed.
Is the cake really fresh? Evdokia Stepanovna asked for the second time.
“Yes, I tell you, yesterday they brought you, well, what do you, god, like a little child? The seller answered.
My kids will come to me tomorrow with their grandchildren, so I ask. Give me one, I will try.
"Look, Stepanovna survived completely crazy," they joked in a row, "found some hungry people, let the house, last summer Svetka with the children all summer on her neck sat. I liked it, they go again.
Oh, and do not speak. Foreign people, swing to the thread, or even knock on the butt, the house is good. Vasily was the deceased owner. I told her how many times, she cried out.
Weighs me a kilo, a good cake.
Finally, my aunt was standing behind me. You are not eating them, Stepanovna.
Evdokia Stepanovna, not in a hurry, went home and smiled. What is her conversation? All kinds of gossip. Parents are not relatives, what a difference. Where are those relatives? For so many years I did not remember her. But here Sasha with the Light help, and not to help the matter.
“Sasha, what can we wait for tomorrow? I have put all the things together and packed the guests, we are just getting the last electric. They went, right? - Agitated Svetlana's husband who came from work.
“Daddy, we went to my grandmother, we went,” Deniska picked up, “there are chickens, cakes, chickens with cherry...there’s fine.
“Baba,” the two-year-old Lennochka jumped, “I want to go to my grandmother.
Alexander looked at his family, smiled, shrugged his hand:
They went.
They sat in the electric car, the children looked out the window, periodically announcing the car with enthusiastic screams: "Look, look!" It’s so great when you have a grandmother who is always waiting!

In the United States, they are considering the possibility of depicting in dollars a black fighter for the abolition of slavery.
Black people in ecstasy.
And the whites rub their hands, because it will be possible to officially and without problems exchange the Negro for a commodity!

Laiki is the highest achievement of democracy. With their help, even those who are unable to link two words can speak online, and even those who are unable to understand the thought can appreciate it.

The company created a subsidiary, gave a loan. People work and turn.

The tax comes:

Your financial performance is bad. In such a situation, no one except the related persons would give you a loan. So there is no business purpose and interest on the loan can not be included in tax expenses.



Well fuck them, the costs have been reduced, the fine paid - work on.

Worked well.

Next year comes the tax:

Your financial performance is very good. You do not need a loan at all.

So there is no business purpose and interest on the loan can not be included in tax expenses!

Coronavirus is no longer as scary as making new decisions to fight it.

Science has not gone through...

(On the basis of the news)



After Poklonskaya stated that the QR codes violate the Constitution of the Russian Federation, the inhabitants of Cape Verde relieved, but the white bears and penguins got worse, because, apparently, the next place of her work for the next couple of years will be either the North Pole or Antarctica...))



© Dmitry Sviridov

Her aunt called here and told her about her triumphal victory over Mosenergo. Well, or as there is the name of an organization that takes money from the Moscovites for electricity. My aunt is a Moscow woman. Not indigenous, nor descendent, it became a moscovite when a few years ago Moscow annexed a large piece of Moscow suburb. Moreover, Moscow became not only an apartment in a sovhoshny house, but also, what is important for this history, a plot of land with a garden house in the village called, whether Old Hrenovo, or Lower Jopovo, is not. So it turned out that aunt lived with us for a long time, and then went to live in his capital property. And there she was waiting for a surprise in the form of an electricity bill used in this very Old Jopov. The grandchildren paid for the household in the apartment, and did not remember the site, because they were there extremely rarely - young people all this garden masochism is uninteresting. Here comes the account. No, it is wrong: the account! Because he was in the amount of ninety thousand rubles. My aunt experienced everything in her life, the status of a minor prisoner of fascism says a lot, but this surprise, of course, did not please her. She began to call on contact phones, asking to figure out how a garden house with electrical equipment in the form of an Ilyich light bulb could use such a amount of electricity, and not get stuck. Well, what there, not to get stuck, not to drown everything Upper Fuck. Teisha has worked for many years as the head of the Central Committee (central boiler) and understands something in energy! However, contact phones do not exist to contact, but to protect yourself from contacts, so effective communication failed. Excursions to the corresponding offices also did not bring results. Meanwhile, the bills came new, and the amount has already increased to 100 thousand rubles! We knew nothing: the aunt said she was dealing with the payment, but did not say anything about the scale of the problem. Meanwhile, she began to be named every morning by people who with unpleasant voices advised to repay the debt immediately. Their recommendations were intertwined with threats and insults. The situation became quite impasse, but here it was easier to find out some secret number of a very big boss. In the reception room of this same boss gave a secret email address to which she (with the help of her granddaughter) sent the application. Imagine it worked! A commission came, which examined the counter, the light bulb, and issued a verdict: there is a debt! Not a hundred thousand, but ninety. The ruble. What nine red boys the aunt immediately paid, because she doesn't like to be a debtor. That, you agree, is very praiseful.
After that, only she devoted everyone to this story, and at the same time asked me if she could somehow punishment for those who called her. I am a skeptic by nature, so I figured out that for the lawsuit it was necessary to record conversations, go to the medical unit, record an increase in blood pressure and sugar levels... And I think: she, a three-year-old child, won the fascists, managed to cope with Mosenergo... Maybe she will get there? Give to God!! to

The same bottle of water in the supermarket costs 20 cents, in the gym 50 cents, in the bar 1 euro, in the plane 3 euros. It all depends on the place you need it.
Therefore, when it seems to you that you are nothing and not fit anywhere, you are in the wrong place.

When I was 17, I had a best friend. 17 years, you understand yourself, youth, unhappy love and all that. One day, we go for a walk with her. I tell her about our relationship, well, of course he is so ugly, and he doesn't love me at all, and I love him, by the way, very much, and how to live on. I cry, the torso runs on my face, I whisper my nose, in general, the tragedy of the century! My friend is very attentive, silent, listening to me, periodically sympathizing with her head. And in the most epic moment of my suffering, she suddenly stops sharply, takes my hand sharply, and looking into my broken eyes, asks, “Listen, what do you think I should buy?” Black or brown?

The June. My son was six years old and went to the library. He returns with indignation – closed! I ask, maybe an ad on the door? Yes, he says, “Doctor’s Day” is written. I am, of course, a little surprised: since when did librarians begin to celebrate the day of the medical worker (and he was at that time)?

He comes to me tonight. I say: and there accidentally was not the “Sanitary Day” written? The Son: Aha

In order not to directly ask the girls age, always asking who they are according to the Chinese horoscope, the spread by year is 12 years, you can easily guess.

Once a girl said she was born in the year of the Bull, and I told her that she looks good for her 35s.

It turned out she was 23 years old.

When I was a kid, I was sent to my grandmother in the summer. My grandmother kept chickens in large quantities. And these chickens were roasted on water, without sugar, of course, without salt, and put on such a large steak pot in the seeds to cool down. I stole it and ate it. It was so delicious! One day I got caught in this work. The grandmother wept for a long time and said, the child is hungry. I cooked meat on milk and sugar. I tried it, shrugged and said - grandmother, and chickens you make better!

I came from school. 5 the class. On the way I met my mom going to the store.She said now from the store will come back and we will eat.

There was a strong desire, on the plate (brick wooden oven) in the pot was an ear. I decided to eat myself, not small.

He poured his ear and ate. with an addition.

Mother comes in:

Let us eat.

Mom, I have already eaten.

What did you eat? Food in the oven is intact.

The ear

"It's not the ear, it's the little pigs I cooked a little fish with potato cleansing.

I don’t know how the pork was, I liked it.

In matters of property, the most profitable business today is its redistribution.

A ballad about a black biker in four parts with a preface and a postword.

There are a lot of stories on this site about “nonsense” American police officers. And I have a lot to say about it. And this is just one of those stories.

1st Bicycle

One evening, I ride a car on the city street of one of the southern states of America. Behind me was a black man on a motorcycle. He pursued me for a short time, crossed two, and then wrestled a syrene and turned on the flash beacons: the biker turned out to be a cop.
had to stop. In the car I was alone and sat humbly, putting my hands on the steering wheel. The police officer approached the car from the front door of the passenger. I lowered the glass.
Have you exceeded speed? Instead of a greeting, he asked me.
I answered almost honestly.
You have violated! The police officer did not agree with me.
But I was moving in the common stream with the same speed as everyone else!
This is not an excuse! He objected and demanded my driving license.

After receiving the documents, the motorcyclist approached his motorcycle and opened the box above the rear wheel, where there was a laptop and a portable printer. He quickly printed the paper on the printer and came back to me.
Here is your penalty receipt. – Solemnly said the cop, extending me the printed leaflet along with the driver’s license.
A speed penalty? I have clarified.
“No,” the police replied, “this is a fine for violating the traffic rules.
A fine for excess speed?
“This is a fine for violating the rules, not for speed,” the cop objected to me.
What have I broken? I asked again.
“The traffic rules,” the police officer replied.
Not the speed? I was surprised.
- You exceeded the speed, - did not agree with me cop.
Is it a speed penalty?
No is! The police officer started to get angry, you are fined for violating the PDD!

I asked again, then again: such a stupid dialogue lasted for forty minutes. It turned out that I simply broke the rules - without any specifics. On the paper was written only "failed to obey" - a violation of the rules.
The first was not able to withstand the motorcycle, he, walking back, began to move away from my car.
Oh officer, come back! I called him, we haven’t finished yet.
- If you have any questions, sir, you can ask them in court, - replied the cop and ran away.

2nd Office of Sheriff

The next morning I went to the head office of the local sheriff’s service.
What fucking thing is this? I asked the officer behind the glass, extending to him my penalty receipt.
It is not us! The officer said, looking at the paper.
And who? I was surprised.
“You have been fined by the city police,” he replied, adding, “they are all rare fools there.
Give me the address? I asked for.
“Of course,” he smiled and handed me a visiting card from the local police department.

Three Department of Police

In the police department, behind the glass, there was not a police officer on duty, but two civilian aunts, something very similar to Russian passports.
“We don’t know what this penalty is for,” one of them replied after a long study of my receipt.
Let’s ask someone, I suggested.
With whom? My aunt was surprised by the glass.
“You’re not alone in the building,” I replied, “is there someone else here?”
The sergeant? I guessed that.
Take the sergeant! I have agreed.

We had to wait a long time: thirty minutes. He came out to me in the hall of the building, and for the first time in two days I spoke to the police officer not through the window.
“I don’t know why you were fined,” he said, examining the penalty receipt.
And what shall we do? I asked.
- Pay the penalty, the sergeant advised me.
Why a fine? I have clarified.
“I don’t know,” he replied.

And we had the same stupid dialogue with him as we had with the police biker the day before. The captain had nowhere to retreat. He was on duty and therefore surrendered even faster than yesterday’s Negro.
"The officer could not write you a fine for excess speed because he measured your speed visually, not with the help of a radar.
Has he swallowed? I was angry.
- You are better, - did not agree with me the policeman, - on this receipt the fine is less than for excess speed.
We will meet him in court. I declared. Let the judge decide who is better.

4 is Lawyer

Everyone should do their own business, I decided and went to the internet to look for a lawyer. There were many proposals. I decided, in the case of other equals, to choose by geographical principle: who is closer. Half an hour later, I agreed with a guy for three hundred dollars for the whole case and went to him for a meeting.

Well, what to say, I learned a lot that day about the local police. In short, the corruption scheme is as follows: a patrol cop gets $40 per hour. If he began drawing up the minutes at the very end of his duty, then, according to the rules, another two hours of working time is automatically added to his working day. Moreover, these two hours are considered as “processing” and are paid in half a quarter. That is, this motorcyclist, starting my case at his laptop at 5:56 p.m., automatically receives an increase of $120 to his daily salary in any case and it doesn’t matter whether I’ll be fined in court or not.

A month later the trial took place. The fine was cancelled, and the black motorcyclist continued to patrol the streets of the city.

In the shop.
We have three bottles of vodka.
Your passport please.
We don’t have a loan, we have all the money with us.

When I was studying at the university in the 1990s, I had a friend named Chachly from another faculty who once invited me to visit.

He said, “Come somehow to us in the French community! I live in room 356.

It is easy to remember – three plus two – five, plus one – six.



More than twenty years have passed, and I still remember the number of his room.

Sadly but a fact. Man becomes a commodity. It also has a QR code.