Q&A: Have you forgotten it?
yyy> No
yyy> I go
XXX> Where is it?? to
yyy>...the number of Hz

From a review of the English series "Faith":

Watched the first series of the 2011 British detective television series titled "Faith". I managed to watch the series in English in the original, which I even regretted a little, because the main character and some other actors have just a terrible British pronunciation, just sometimes nothing is unclear..."

A few weeks later, the timlid found a constant — the number of days per month. “Thirty.” February and so on.?" – we thought and added the bag to the tasklist. The next day we found the constant of the “months of the year.” “The 13.”

to this:
For violation of the law on silence citizens threaten to be fined up to 2,000 rubles, officials - up to 5,000, organizations - up to 6 thousand.

How much should I pay for ringing the bells at night?

As one of my friends said, looking at the furious Komsomolists, when we came to a closed rock concert organized by the Central Committee of Komsomol exclusively for their own: “See how easily the Komsomol icons fly away from their clothes when you listen to “Led Zeppelin!”

One acquaintance told: to them in the department came a soldier, who did not get a retirement. Why he left the troops, for a long time did not cuddle, but then told drunk. From the first person.

We served at the PW station. Quiet, no bosses, spare parts by helicopter. A year and a half in total. They are very warm Finnish houses. I was especially lucky. Neighbor of the house commander of the unit. The only anachronism is a glass of gene instead of a toilet. The channel broke! ! to Sanitary, of course not. I decided to show officer wisdom. He took the explosive package, blinked from the rod, lit it, threw it into the shell, covered it with a cloth and stood up (110 kg). Bumped quite, removed the shit, the genuine whole and clean. He did not have time to rejoice in his ingenuity, as the commander flew in an extreme state of rage, even saying nothing but matta could not. I pulled it into his variety, there is everything stuck, but the worst thing is that the ceiling is clean. Everything that was supposed to be there was on the back of his wife, who was all in shit and fainting lying on the half at the entrance to the toilet. 72 hours for meetings, as Russian diplomats, slight brain shock and here, experience was not enough.

Dinner with my husband’s older brother.
One night the hamster ran on the wheel, almost without stopping.
How sad to realize that even the hamster is in much better physical shape than I am.

My wife makes salads. I decided to count how much it ended up, it turned out to be seven. On the four.
I’ve decided to do so much...
She is not eating, I told about twelve...

I go into the offices of the employees and drive them out of their seats. Seeing me, the all-powerful director begins to whisper, “Wait, I’m now,” and the terrible headbone – to hurry quickly and rush. I occupy their jobs, the girls from the accounting office get up and out quickly when I go, no matter how busy they are. And while I am in their offices, everyone stands in the hallway waiting for me, nervously picking up the keys and supporting the walls. I am free to enter the door with the sign “I am everywhere, I have ALL the keys.” I look at people passing by and they start crawling along the wall when they see me. I am a superman! I am a cleaner!

rv3dmg:... My wife once calculated that I spent ten shubs on my hobby
A friend - that three tanks of spirits
I don’t like to drink in such a cottage. :)

This story has been 11 years. The incident occurred in the Crimea, on the top of Ai-Petri. There was also the famous museum of ancient torture (per it still exists today). A group of teenagers, rock climbers, went on a tour with their coach. The road by the serpentine, the lift over the abyss, the sunset and the clouds below us – was exciting.

Among us was a boy, one of those people, according to whose biography it is possible to make an almanac of ridiculous situations. Nothing predicted...

Already at sunset, before departure, we went to the museum of torture under the open sky. Well, “museum” is a loud word for a small bunch of wood and debris, as I then imagined. The guide told about the torture tool "grush". Those who were interested came closer to him. Further, the guide guided children and adults from neighboring groups to other fascinating subjects. They went further, somewhere deeper. The coach and the girls looked at the objects separately, on the side. I and several other teenage girls stayed with the boy N. who suddenly came up on the stage. In the literal sense. N. (He was 11 years old) and his elderly companion rose up on a kind of shaft. In the middle of it was a guillotine. Of course, the hiccups and thin whispers of the girls only encouraged the rabbits. Further, N. looks around and, without finding the eyes of adults, lies on the shaft and places his head in the hole of the guillotine. Everyone is funny. But not me. The guillotine is real, the blade is not rusty, it shines, and the coach is my native aunt. To quickly grasp what the situation gives, we and the girls call the coach. N. receives an immediate instruction to get out of his dangerous position! For now, everyone is funny. When N. tries to pull his head out of the hole, he fails. The more he tries, the more the wooden structure is shaken together with this damn blade.

Scream, panic, the elderly hold the blade with their naked hands, others hold the trigger rope, all worship (in general, laugh and cry). The guide calls. Changing the face quickly penetrates into the urgency of the situation. Thirty seconds later, the hostage was released. The hostage is silent. The guide smiles embarrassed. The coach is silent. The children are silent. They all went back quietly. Places wanted to laugh, but the secret decision of the whole group was to spend the evening journey back in silence.

For a long time I dreamed of this moment with its possible outcome...

It is no secret that many teenagers of the 90s secretly took video cassettes with "erotics" from their parents, and after viewing they returned to their place, pre-wrapping the film for the right moment. But even though I did the same thing, I was constantly falling. And for each such offence I was punished with house arrest for a day or two, depending on how long I was out. A few years later, I realized my mistake. It is all the fault of a “sweeper” who has one special function. Before spitting out the cassette, he automatically wiped off the film five seconds ago, shifting the already wiped boundary. And by this "shift" my father knew exactly that I was taking his tape. These damned five seconds cost me hours, or even days of “freedom.”

I was 9 years old, the year was 1995, I lived the ordinary life of a provincial city's shuffler: I walked through garages, long-range buildings and exploded an aluminum with magnesium and was childless and joyful. In my house lived a crouch - a man with criminal ties, who was chasing in Togliatti for the 9th and the 99th, ie. With a company of friends, I brought 6-8 cars at a time, quickly pushed them and again on the road. He was a very athletic guy: a boxer, he swung, the only one from the whole house who raped the turniks. His friends had the same. His name was Uncle Andrew. He was in power for 30 years.



And right now, I am sitting on an ordinary bench, forging a stick with a knife, uncle Andrew comes up with a blue urka painted, similar to the Azer, not to the Armenian: spikes on his arms, iron teeth, the body of a young man. I am driven out of the bench, I go to the turniches, I sit on two tubes (where the press swings and the back), I look at their dialogue: first the urka sat, then they sat together, then the urka stood up, from the neighboring house began to drive a heels (412) bad blue color. And here, when the heels were equal to Urka and Andrew, Urka got something out of the back pocket, a couple of times literally hit Andrei in the chest and jumped to the front open place in the heels, whistling tires (well well - a screw). Andrei stands up and goes to his entrance, has not reached exactly 5 steps... He died. I called the neighbor’s grandmother to call an ambulance and menths, waited for them, and as a young pioneer proudly said: the witness is me. Fortunately, after a couple of months, the nightmare stopped, I was shown the face of a dead urki, and my pursuit of threats ceased (although they came to our house too). My mother breathed calmly and restored my freedom of movement, and I was still the same careless and stupid child.

Good time of day. I work in a fairly large organization. 1K is overtaken. We are gathered as a leader to summarize at the end of the year, tell us what has been done and what will be done. He sings to us that we are the continuers of glorious traditions, what we all need and so on and the final gives.



People who come to work with us. They are people with high morality and ideas. We don’t work for money, but for ideas. If there is someone here in the room who came for money, then there is no place for you here. I offer to pay a naked salary for three months (from 8 to 14 thousand). Let’s see who has the crack. Whoever runs away, runs away!”



I sit down, I look inside myself... rotten, rotten. It is totally rotten =))

My aunt says that when I was a kid I loved dinosaurs, and even more I loved drawing dinosaurs. But I could only paint members with legs.

Three times drowned is considered to be lying for a short time.

Included today in the car in some century business FM. I don’t listen, I walk quietly. On the radio manager of some creative agency tells how they help people with the organization of bright, memorable New Year corporations, children's holidays, etc. Quests with the search for Santa on the tropical islands, on Bali, and other ants.

And then he begins to tell how a very wealthy person turned to them, asking to organize something interesting for him, so that the holiday, as usual, did not turn into a banal drunkard. They began to offer him various steep options, he rattles: “It was... It’s boring...”

Then from hopelessness, the manager says, they offered him to congratulate someone in Santa Claus costume. The man thought, and said, “What, I like it!” He was dressed in suit, and bodyguards were dressed accordingly. These guys are strong, even had to sew under the costume order. One rabbit, another... I don’t remember who...

For the New Year's Eve, this brigade congratulated about thirty families. People are surprised, they think that acquaintances organized, and they just scattered at random addresses.

Since then, every New Year, the man with his money buys a bunch of gifts, and congratulates the Moscovites in randomly selected areas. Now with him also his wife rides, as a snowmen.

The cat was so often stabbed to the carpet that he converted to Islam.

From Habr:
Where else can I get quality advice on how to build a sovereign internet?
It is elementary! We write on the Hubr post that this is impossible, and in the comments we read what and how to do it correctly.

- the cat is available in various color and design solutions;
has a friendly interface;
- the entire surface of the cat is sensory, tactile pleasant, with multi-touch technology;
The cat rejects (does not accept rejections, throwing you to the winner);
- multi-platform cat (equally productively rolling on the couch, on the floor, on the table, on people, on any surface);
Cat - anonymous service (generates tons of untraceable traffic across the apartment, uses effective crypto algorithms);
- equipped with a secure voice call service (at threat notes in the voice this service becomes temporarily unavailable, and the cat itself moves into encryption mode).