I was a student and very much liked a young teacher, three years older than me, just graduated from our university, beautiful, young and smart. I got a training program from the secretary of the rector and was ready for each class in advance. The teacher really liked that I was ready to talk to her on the topic of the class, between the couples agreed to meet in an informal setting and talk about the topic of the class and in general. We met a couple of times and she invited me home.

We drank a little, talked for five minutes and we were covered, I don’t even know I wanted her or she wanted me more, it was very hot. Already to the end, I put on a condom and knock on the bed:

Olga Alekseevna?

– and? ! to

Can I enter?

It was a long time, but the next day there was sex. I think he joked well)

Weather in Russia:



The United Russia won.

It feels like a falsification.

A friend asked for a week to shelter her dog, a small pudel with the proud name Henry, for the time of my stay replaced by Tuzik.
As my first teacher said, I love animals too, so I agreed.
But for the first few days, for insurance, I hired my daughter to stay with me, to look after Tuzik while I wasn’t home.
On the first day I come and a little off-highlight - the house is clearly clean. The floors are washed, the smoothing board with a bunch of clothes left by me is removed, the clothes are smoothed. I checked, there is no dust, the mirrors shine. In addition, smells come from the kitchen, that is, the daughter is cooking something there!
I even had time to get a little scared, thinking that she might have somehow grown big, because in normal life it was impossible to expect such body movements from her - either studying or clinging to the phone. And in the same way prepares a platform for the message of unpleasant news. Her response was this:
I will not be with this dog anymore. I sit in a chair with my phone - he jumps on me, feeds, cuddles, demands to play, climbs to slip in the face. I lie down on the couch - he stands up and begins to shake me with his leg, devoutly looking in the eyes. Impossible to delay! In the bathroom, I did not lift my hand. Well, right up, but he was so complaining that he let go.
After lunch, I stand my dishes – sitting quietly next to me and watching. As he sat down, he sat down again. I remembered that it was necessary to wash the shoes in which I came (I fell into dirt on the road), started to wash - again sitting silently looking. And so on: I do affairs, silently observes, I do nothing - is harassed. Well, in the end, before you came back, I found myself a class! But I will not sit here with Tuzik anymore!

The joy of the party of power over its “victory” at the “elections” is reminiscent of the joy of a man who did not even buy a diploma on higher education in the underground transition, but himself printed on the computer.

Well, what outrage must the people of "United Russia" do to get less than half the seats in the State Duma!

Blue - Flight Manager

His father was a well-deserved military pilot, who spent 35 calendar years flying fighters. Through this experience, he was able to see how the whole process was organized by flights and to appreciate all its charm.

Once I was a little surprised when I went into the kitchen and saw my father clinging to the window. In my understanding, in such a posture, so dying, the old grandmother could look in the window, suddenly seeing that the neighbor kisses with a stranger, but not the chief of flight of fighters.

Dad, what are you?

Dad turned to me, shrugged his hand, stood in the window again and said annoyingly:

All that, I was scared!

How to scare a kissing neighbor from the third floor window was not quite clear.

Not the neighbor! The baby feeds...

It’s easier now, but why hasn’t a sentimental military ever suddenly begun to grasp a bird-blue? My father explained why.

It is a pity not to deceive them.
Why nothing? We have an unsalted salad for burst refuelling – it is a delight for them.

Quickly cut off a piece, hanged on a rough thread behind the window...

Attack on salad

Do you know how fighter aircraft flights were organized in Soviet times (now,, in a different way)? A flight manager was appointed, usually from the most experienced pilots. The flights began with "weather reconnaissance" - flight by the head of the entire zone of the planned flights, that is, he himself checked under what conditions his subordinates would work. Then the leader sat down on the tower of the CPC (start command point) and began to really lead: to take off, to sit down, to the second round...

So, to the hanging hall first flew a large blue (let's call it conditionally No. 1). He swallowed once, another. “I don’t like it,” his father whispered. But no, the blue didn’t fly away, but sat not far off on a tree branch, a couple of meters above the shaft and crawled.

Immediately there appeared a piece of seven or eight bleaches, scattered on the branches below No. 1. Further, it went along the rope: the brown man No. 1 briefly whispered, the next brown man crashed from the branch, flew to the hall and cried. Another "chiric" - the dining blue girl returned to the branch, her place was taken by the next one. At some point next to No. 1 sat another blue woman, and No. 1 flew to the hall. Then the whole bunch of blueberries went away, the salt on the thread did not remain.

"The impression that they have carefully studied the instructions for the production of NPP flights," said the father with silent enthusiasm, "should be encouraged.

He bought a piece of saltless salt on the marketplace and hanged a piece out of the window every morning. Apparently, a spy barriered at the blue lights - the stack flew in a couple of minutes and arranged exemplary organized flights.

One day I came from work – Daddy shines like a charged samovar.

What happened?
- I got the fat, but here something in the newspaper attracted me - I began to read. Suddenly a knock in the glass: the blue man, the flight manager, sits and looks at me in a demanding way. I hanged the salad, she took the test and took the lead in her place. And the whole bunch was already sitting on the branches, but without the team, not a single girl even knocked.

Thanks to the Internet, a whole generation has grown up who has never gotten in the mouth for their words.

XXX: I talked so much about my ex on a date that I even missed her.

XXX: When I was a child, I opened and held a bunch of goats. When all the goats came out, the leader the last turned around and stuck me in a pulp. Two weeks was a huge bite. Since then, goose has been my favorite dish for the New Year.

A society is a structure in which members respect and take into account each other’s opinion and freedom, and a pyramidal hierarchy in which the upper layers fall to the lower layers is a cluster of wild monkeys.

We remember the heroes of our time.
In 1997 Morgan Stanley was hired by the chief security officer Rick Rescorl, who previously worked in the security service in the same building. The Bank occupied 22 floors in the second, Southern, tower of the World Trade Center, and Recorla spent the first half of his life serving in Vietnam, where he earned the Bronze Star, Silver Star and Purple Heart. In addition, Rescorla had an unusually acute sense of danger.
In 1990, he brought to New York an army friend, a counter-terrorist special and arranged him a tour of the towers. A friend said that if he were a terrorist, he would have entered the underground garage in a truck with explosives. Reskorla asked the administration of the VTC to secure the garage, but it was expected to be rented - expensive, well, and what truck with explosives, you what? When a truck with explosives entered the VTC garage in 1993, it was immediately clear which one. Since then, Rescorla has been in authority and entertained as much as he could. A nightmare business with fire exercises and all kinds of safety exercises. Oral when employees barely moved. I started to measure the speed of descent by a second meter. He prohibited obeying instructions from the administration of the center - only personally from him. Visitors were allowed to enter the office only with an accompaniment. The multi-storey building revealed the main problem: people from the upper floors always skip those below. As a result, they have much less time to escape, and the distance at the same time is more. Rick resolutely reinstructed the staff, insisting that the lower floors be patient. The head of the guard also forbade people to climb to the roof: always only go down. Always is. They hired the same super-qualified guards. Everyone was angry, of course, but he didn’t care positively.
Top managers could discuss a super-profit deal on their 73rd floor, and twenty seconds later jump in pairs down the fire ladder. And behind them, with these eyes, the customers with whom this deal was discussed jumped.
In the mid-1990s he generally recommended the bank to move its headquarters to a low-rise in New Jersey, but: "Rick, we have a rental term until 2006, what are you?"
On September 11, 2001, when the plane flew into the first tower, Rescorla ordered all Morgan Stanley staff to leave the building, despite the building administration's demands that everyone in the South Tower remain calm and stay in their seats. The staff were already able to find a fire exit and build in pairs, even without including the brain. The second plane crashed into the South Tower as Morgan Stanley employees were already descending the stairs. Recorred the oral alternately into the ration and into the megaphone first to command to direct, and then the native songs to encourage. “Everything will be fine. “Don’t forget,” he repeated, “you are Americans.” In the break between the songs, he called and said a few words to his wife, and then continued.
Before the tower collapsed, Rescorla took 2,677 people out of it. Then Rescorla began to climb up to help bring out those who were still in it (he did not count twelve people). The last time he was seen climbing the stairs in the area of the 10th floor, and after the collapse of the tower the body was not found.
On September 5, a few days before the terrorist attack, Rescorl wrote to his friend: "I have accepted the fact that I will have my whole life just poor events Milton's everyday weeds. A few more cups of mock-co in Starbucks, and each next one will seem less tasty.”

You have not seen what year on Putin’s clock.

I had to attend a vegan wedding at an Ayurvedic institution.

For the first time in my memory, the father of the bride did not pour a sling over the corner, but distributed a little bit of cottlets from the container.

We have our own small firm and we are not very lucky on accountants, they drink, they quietly write out extra hours to get more money. And here my niece 26 years, previously working in Sberra, gave birth to a second boy and is on maternity leave. Everyone is crying that it is hard to live and pay little, her husband is a collector in the bank and like how little he gets too. Well, my wife and I consulted and offered her to go to accounting courses, naturally at our expense and with the prospect of working with us in the firm. And whatever it was not an empty theory decided that let it come when the opportunity is and takes on the experience of our elderly accountant. So they began to live. There is another nuance here, her husband has a pen from his ass and with electronic technology he is on you. So if I had anything to fix or fix, they turned to me. The girl broke her phone. My wife and I consulted, bought my wife and accountant a new phone, and this lady gave her wife's smartphone, a year-old redmi note 4 and a corporate card. At the expense of their family budget. Time goes by and things move. The lady successfully passed the exams, planned to get out of the decree and go to work with us.Al she was so little involved in the process and we paid her a fixed salary.But there was a situation like me in which the lady, no matter what to copy and send the info from the phone, took and took a screenshot and sent it to my wife. Ordinary work time if not one but. The screenshot shows that my wife is recorded in her phone book as a “beast”. I was surprised and laughed at such a stupid act. Talked to the lady, it turns out we pay her little and demand a lot. As a result, the lady was asked to return the phone and the SIM card and stop communicating with us. refused to return. I threatened to tell her parents (very respected people) I refused.

and. I called her father and explained the situation. As it turned out later was that the lady seeing what amounts are passing through the firm and how much we spend on her family considered that we pay her little. This is a stupid situation. Forgive me, not the writer.

Today people are divided into two categories: some put on everything, and others lay.

Drang Nak Osten, or the Escape from Paris

I don’t know whether Hefest consulted with Hermes about planning the eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano on April 15, 2010, or whether the departments did not coordinate the work and Hermes then sent angry messages by office mail. I know that the clouds of the steam moved by the southeastern wind to Europe. In the first hours, the white horses found an increased content of glass particles, and the glass dust immediately put all flights at risk. The advancement of dust from the eruption could be seen in the hourly closure of airports: Reykjavik, Glasgow, Dublin, and London announced the upcoming closure.

And then my phone ringed. A woman called, who just flew from America to Paris for an aerospace exhibition. She immediately advised me to keep silent and gave a resume: Paris airport is closing in the morning; flights on two-engine planes flying past Iceland have already been cancelled. There are no tickets – thousands of visitors to the exhibition, people living on airplanes – with gold, diamonds, and other precious air status – spent hours on the phone, and most of them received no tickets. The consensus reached during the group lunch for 30 people was this: airspace will be closed for at least a week, and flights will be delayed for 10-15 days afterwards. Everyone went to the hotels to plan the next steps, which looked different. Numerous Americans were desperately looking for rooms in overcrowded hotels, trying to get prescriptions for insulin and other medications for the next month, and a few lucky people boarded any aircraft - to Africa, South America, and some to Hong Kong: anywhere where there was no shutdown of flights. Those who lived in Europe bought train tickets and watched the show for a cup of coffee. Since my favorite did not have a precious status with the airline, she expressed the idea that she would not try to get a ticket in the European branch, and with the idea of living on cruises for another month, she quickly accepted. However, taking into account two children at home — one year old — she agreed to give me a chance to find a ticket before morning, and then go to bed. I had six hours left to tell her where to go and where to fly. Being in light thought, I put the phone in place.

The case went to midnight. The prospects were not the best, but we had to act. First, I thought where to call. As I have already been told, Lufthansa’s office in Europe fell, but it remained an illogical and consequently less busy office in the United States. I decided to call and predictably hit the car respondent. While he sincerely promised me to connect me with a man, I sat down and shaken my brains. In front of me was a notebook in a cage and a pencil, and on the computer was a map of Europe. Suddenly, I realized that I urgently needed to solve a problem from vector algebra. Given: glass dust moves south-east with a speed of x kilometers per hour. To understand when which airport will be closed is not difficult - it is already something. How to get there? At what speed does the vehicle have to travel to get to the still open airports, and when do you have to leave there to get the last flight? For each airport, the task had its own solution, which was further limited to flight schedules to America. Under the warning of an optimist respondent, and limiting the list to the airports of Lufthansa, I suddenly found that you should only travel by high-speed train, and at the same time only to Orleans, Munich, or Zurich. While I was thinking about it all, a tired female operator suddenly joined. Hearing about Paris, she pro-formed, with a tortured voice, told me that there were no tickets for the last couple of flights and she could not help me, but I immediately broke her and crushingly, second-handedly, tried to put out my tabs. “This is an idea!” The woman was terribly surprised by this approach to tourism, but understood the meaning of the raid. A miracle happened - from all three cities there was a pair of three tickets: the people have not yet understood. However, Orléans fell away: for some reason there were no train tickets there (!). Why, I found out a little later. To Munich and Zurich, however, tickets were; in the case of Zurich, even for two trains, with a difference of one hour. This was resolved. I only have to let my wife know. And then I remembered that she told me a chain of hotels, but not a specific one. The call of each hotel took another hour; she was in the first of them, but the operator wanted to sleep very much and the first time he just lied to me that she did not stop there. As the owner of a train ticket to Zurich and a plane to Boston, I completed my little role in this story and went to bed with a clear conscience. And then began the true Odyssey of the wife. Further in her name.

When I went down to the lobby with my suitcase at six in the morning, I was terribly surprised by the concierge’s request to call a taxi. Just when he was going out, I miraculously extended my hotel for a week, and he knew I was here for a long time. He reminded me that the airport was closed, and was surprised that I went to the station, and to Zurich through Gar du Nord, from where the trains to Zurich do not go! The husband, however, knew neither French nor Paris, and could only buy a ticket that the computer issued to him, without any distinction. The concierge, a nice guy, shrugged his shoulders and said he would not cancel my reservation until noon, as he was confident I would be back soon, and called my car. As a result of the early days, the car turned out to be an elite limousine for a hundred euros, but I didn’t care. As I sat in the rear seat, I was fiercely trying to figure out the tickets and schedules; the driver, meanwhile, was talking to someone on the phone, slowly switching to screaming. Finally, my attention was attracted by the selective French mat, the content of which was reduced to the fact that the limousine is not a taxi, it does not take from hotels, and now it drops this American b*** on the first bus setting. Time is not money, you can’t earn it anymore. In the middle of the tirade, I extended 50 euros and asked in French to bring B*** to the station. The driver stumbled and almost entered the pillar. All he thought was to ask why I was dressed as an American if I spoke freely in French. It is good to know languages.

Overcoming the first barrier, I landed at the station at 7. To simplify the logistics, my husband sent me to the machine, where it was all I needed to put my credit card in to get a ticket. It wasn’t here: the machine spit out my U.S. visa without a chip. Well, then in the box, where I arrived at 7:20.

The box was visible from a distance: the line curved throughout the hall and consisted of no less than 100 people. The line consisted mostly of the same “refugees” as I was, almost all of them being late on their train. I had to stand – and when I got to the box office, my eight-hour train left. The reason was immediately revealed: the strike of communication channels. Fortunately, Zurich was chosen because there was a ten-hour express. I was given a ticket for it and at 8:30 I was in the lobby. Tickets were only for the first class, where food was included in the price of the ticket, so there was a lot of time, and there was no need to buy anything, and I decided to walk around the station. My legs on the machine took me into the multi-story lobby, to the bridge between the buildings of the station; there was no crowd, from somewhere the music of the march was delivered in live performance. Stop it is what? On the bridge, in front of me, an orchestra appeared, followed by demonstrators with posters. There was an unpleasant premise, based on the experience of life in Paris: an illegal demonstration often ends in a fight with the police, and a strike not on that day - that is. In Paris it is legal to strike only on certain days of the week, depending on the type of activity. By the way, but the police - at the other end of the bridge appeared and began to consolidate a group of gendarmes with shields, helmets, and rubber "democratizers". In the middle of the bridge there were stairs down where I ran without looking. There was a toilet on the first floor where I tried to dive. However, the toilet was paid, and I only had money in large denominations. Demonstrators and gendarmes also began to appear on my floor, and I had to grab the first sandwich in the bakery next to the toilet to exchange money. Dive into the institution, I spent there for half an hour, until the music and screams ceased, and the bullet jumped through the perron.

Surprisingly, at 9:20 on my platform was already a train, and, judging by the board, my own. However, the signs on the first wagon clearly indicated: a train to Munich. This, of course, was clear: just to Munich from Gar du Nord trains and went. But I was not driving there. A small demonstration was formed near the second wagon: a group of people circumnavigated the conductor. The situation became clear: strike breakers were enough for a limited number of trains, and to the German border trains to Munich and Zurich went in one composition. Okay sit down. Next to me stood a couple of Swiss businessmen who were also stuck somewhere and had to get on the train. In Paris they were in transit, and they had been on the road since yesterday: their one-day flight there and there was somewhat delayed. One, younger, tried to order something to eat, but it turned out that the restaurant wagon did not fit in the mixed composition on Munich-Zurich, and was disconnected. The conductor gave him a chocolate and a smile, and it evaporated. “I’d eat it,” the guy said in French. “I didn’t eat for a day.” I remembered a random sandwich. When I’m nervous, I typically eat little, and I wasn’t hungry at all. The prospect of a road with two men dying of hunger and cuddling on the subject did not impress me, so I just got my sandwich and forcibly wrapped it to businessmen. We talked, and my situation somewhat distracted them. Half an hour from Zurich, the younger one offered to look at the situation on the roads, as I was going to take a taxi, and between arrival and departure I had an hour for everything. There was a sandwich and paid off because my phone didn’t work in Europe. It turned out that a huge accident had just happened and the road to the airport was closed. The only chance was in the electric car, which left 10 minutes after we arrived at the station. I don’t speak German, I wasn’t in Zurich, and the air smelled burning. The guy thought for a few seconds and proposed to put me on the right electric car. In practice, it looked like this: he bought me a ticket (my card was not accepted by the machine again), ran to the train with my suitcase, and then just threw it behind me in the train into the closing doors.

I arrived at the airport 35 minutes before departure. As it turned out, the Zurich airport was closed in an hour (according to the calculations of the husband, it should be in three, but the Swiss decided not to risk). It was not easy to find a working box, but at least there was no line because of the absence of other passengers. The treasurer was upset from my appearance with a strange print; the barcode was not scanned at all, and the flight number did not match. Well, it quickly became clear that all the information on the ticket was in the U.S. Lufthansa code system (ah, they made the reservation). I was thrown into the electric card with the same suitcase and transported to the point with the windshield, right into the hands of the stewards - they had already knocked the door of the plane when they were told that the last passenger was suddenly shrinking at the box office. Fifteen minutes before the airport closure, I was in the air on a direct flight Zürich-Boston. and Victoria! I turned the screen built in the back of the seat onto the camera looking down and prepared to breathe out.

It was not there. From the chair on the left came a stone. In the chair was a young woman, rather a girl, as it later turned out, 18 years old, and very pregnant, at the beginning of the ninth month, who, as it turned out, was panically afraid to fly. With a squeezed voice, she told her to call the stewardess, because she seemed to be afraid of fighting. No is no! Sit back now? for nothing! I looked into the girl’s eyes and said, “Dear, you have a Braxton-Hicks. It doesn’t matter what it is, but I won’t give you birth. Look at me and breathe like this.”

The last episode of this story took place in Boston. Leaving the customs, I was met by the whole family - husband and children stood as nothing happened at the exit, and also with a bouquet of roses, as if they were expecting that I would have time for the flight: I could not call them in the absence of the phone and time, and my husband knew. Asked what kind of fear he was so confident to get to the airport, he simply replied, "I have all calculated, with a two-hour stock - how could you not have time?" At my observation that it could not be easy, and at all happened by chance, he noticed that it was time. Who is right?

A citizen enters the polling station. Not coming out for long. A member of the committee courteously knocks:
Do you have trouble?
The pen does not write.
- The pen is writing, just you are not putting the pen in that square!

One man told me this story.

He met, he says, a friend of his. He does not find that place.

What happened?

- Yeah, I stumbled, I didn't sleep at home for three days, I was with my grandmother. I don’t know what to say to my wife.

Tell her that aliens have kidnapped you. A friend of mine joked.

And what then? I said. Yes, he said that even ufologists from their community came to him. Now this episode is recorded as one of the cases of contact with aliens.

A toy dog from a well-known company when pressed on different parts of the body speaks. But the most interesting feature is that when a child doesn’t play with her for 10 minutes, she tries to get his attention. I don't know what happened to her, but when her sister's husband went to the toilet at night, the toy gave him in the dark: "Ku-ku, baby. I see you...”

As they say, I went to write, at the same time and popped.

Xxx: So when I was a child, when I saw Eddy Murphy’s “golden child” in the screen, I long thought he was such a single black man. My mother periodically took me to work with me - she worked in the bookstore "globus", with foreign literature, and there were students - as a Negro came in, I thought it was Eddie Murphy, well, and the oral - "this is Eddie Murphy!" The Negro laughed a lot.