“You have to be rich,” my six-year-old son told me.

Maybe it takes a lot of work for that?

No is! The rich do not need to work, they just need to make money out of the workers.

P.S.: As a family investigation showed, in the summer, my grandmother’s child reached the “Unknown on the moon.”

Xxx: I worked in support of dnevnik.ru 10 years ago. This is such an electronic journal for schools + a social network of the type of VC. Users are mainly school employees, students and their parents.



Once I got the appeal of a girl who held on the resource a group of winged pony such colorful. She complained about a classmate who wrote all kinds of shit in this group. The founders of the groups did not have normal administrative rights at the time, so she could not entertain him in the group herself.



In general, we didn’t get into such settings, but I looked at the message of this guy with interest. It turned out that he spammed in all discussions and on the wall with some foolish pictures, wings of all participants matte, all sorts of dirt watered the multi-colored pony and their fans. In short, I did not like his behavior, so I wrote a guy on behalf of the administration in the official language, asked not to behave there and... was sent naked.



After realizing that the war in correspondence I can not win, I took a screenshot of the message, after finding the profile of a good leader (it is easier simple on such a resource) and handed over the hooligan. The next day, I received a message from a minor ugly that I was a fucking knocker and pidaras. So I took a screenshot again and re-wrote to the class leader + the boy’s parents.



After a few hours, he sent a message to apologize, and he was no longer in the group of pony, as far as I know (I occasionally looked at it). I remember feeling more satisfaction from winning over a nine-year-old boy :)



Yyy: You won’t a nine-year-old boy, but a hatred larvae who thought it was fun to offend people and spoil their mood, and felt her impunity. It is worthy of respect.

Xxx: By the will of fate, I was brought to my mother at the age of 6 to work, to sit in her office and not light up until lunch. The office is not direct to her. There were 5 people sitting there. of accounting)



And here I sit in the corner far from my mother, there was only free, I draw, I look out the window, I tick in the calculator, I pick up the wooden bills. And he enters. The Director. The look immediately falls on me.



Director: Oh, who is here with us? In fact he knew.

I: It’s me... No, who?) is



Who is your mother here?

I: Well he’s sitting, doesn’t it look like it? But my grandmother said I went to Daddy’s breed more. I only got a beard from my mom. But she understands nothing of us. How do I look like my dad when I’m a girl?



Mom was sitting on the red tomato, and the other women were either crying or laughing. The director laughed, gave someone the documents brought and left with the words "and you will not argue"). At home, of course, my mother bothered me that I answered the whole director. I am in this situation for the first time. Improved as I could.

The incident occurred at a peak hour in the traffic jams. A little distracted and rattled in the farcop in front of the car, slightly pushing it. The driver comes out, he is bleeding from his nose... I am in panic: what to help, an ambulance? He says, “I knocked my finger in my nose and you pushed me. They went away and went away.)

He was on the right path, but in the wrong direction.

If an organization is stable and financially funded, regardless of the results of the work, then most likely it is a public service.
It is not effective by definition. In any country. Today is history on the subject.

In the quiet center of Toronto, on a low hill, there is a complex of buildings. It is paid from the budget. This kind of educational company. The leadership there is not coincidental. Someone’s relatives or golf partners. It changes frequently, passing time to better appointments. He behaves accordingly. The main thing for all these youthful and energetic puzzles is visual agitation. The walls are praised with assurances about the fight against racism and the benefits of tolerance. They meet once a week. On the subject of even more bending before any angry schoolchildren. Green energy is like the earth’s compass. As the great Greta said.

And everything would be fine, but six years ago in this office began to get huge water bills. No, there were no problems with paying (the balloons were public), but somewhere a year later they began to get rid of them from above. It seems like it is not in the order of this office to pay for the water pipeline for 20 thousand, instead of the previous three. The boss reacted as he could. I ordered beautiful laminated posters on water-saving in the printing office and attached them to each washing machine. The water did not stop running.

The next one is state. At first, he blamed all the visitors. The cranes do not close. And, having grabbed the state’s mouth, he pulled out unshakable funds to replace all the water piping cranes (and their hundreds of three) with sensory cranes. which they themselves close. and. Strange, but the water bills even increased slightly. The guilty also soon fell.

The third savings fighter blamed the swimming pool for everything. They often change the liquid environment. And he drove funds to a new chemical treatment station, allowing the water not to be changed at all. Adding renovation costs and weekly chemicals costs to your water bills. Which have not changed. But the boss reported as needed, for which he was immediately transferred to another feeder.

The new Chubais, which replaced him, found that a lot of money goes to the batteries to the touch cranes. Yes, and the cranes themselves broke once a quarter (strange, like they were not taken from the washing machine, but from China. The price of Swiss
And therefore, the funds were ripped out again, and all the cranes (and toilet slugs - what to say!) Replaced by sensors. Not with batteries, now with batteries! They were powered by the light batteries that stood there. It would seem like a victory!
Anne is not.
The cranes stopped working immediately after the contractors left. Because they forgot that one of the previous bosses installed in the toilets and shower sensors, which extinguished the light after the visit. The solar cells did not work in the dark. And the water? The water continued to flow somewhere.

The problem was passed on to another warrior. Which, without thinking, connected the connections, and found funding for the greenest of projects. To power the batteries, all switches were replaced with network and all lights were replaced with LEDs. Everything is managed through the internet...

It is possible that everything would continue to develop. Suddenly an epic event happened. Accidental contractors, digging something nearby, found water leaking from the pipe serving our office. After the repair, the cost has returned to normal.

The irony is that this flow did not come out of the surface. Six years passed by the road. Right on the asphalt in front of the main office. Every day, twice a day, the wise leaders and executive subordinates of this same shark traveled. Worried about water costs.

And where did so many artistic gymnastics experts come from? There were normal immunologists.

Why do you think the impotents are so rushing to power? Of course for gifts!

I have a companion. With a difficult destiny. Taxi for a while. A couple of times I went with him in some affairs, and noticed that on the shelf under the barracks (there are such, open, on the Vasovsky "seven" seems) lies with him Tomik E. Blavatsky. Such a thick, with a beautiful throwing strap. Surprisingly, it lies on top and is not overwhelmed by different ones. Lie for a long time. A few months. And my companion is a man purely grounded, practical, never "esoteric" (well in the sense that all kinds of searches there for Great Teachers and no less Great Goals are not his, of course). And here, you are Blavatsky!
On the other hand, the alien soul is dark. I was interested. Be careful, Kiev on Tomic:
Does it help time pass?
“No,” he said, “I have time to give. It helps to get earned.
In none of the schemes that revolve in the head and related to "getting earned" Tomik Blavatskaya did not fit in any side. Comrade, seeing my confusion, smiles:
- You know, there are sometimes such... luck that do not want to pay. “Oh, brother, I forgot the money, then...” Or the fingers start to shake, “Do you know who I am?” This is where Blavatsky helps.
Is it how? I was completely confused.
- Well, how, I lean, I take the tomic and without scope but from the heart to the fucking of it, to the fucking! And, you won’t believe, immediately the money is there, and the fingers stop swinging. Elena Petrovna helps sometimes.
-------
I recently drove a taxi in another city. I see, too, Tomic is on the shelf. The same gaps. and only (!!!) The Anglo-French dictionary And the taxi driver, which is typical, the Southern is obvious, but neither from the south of France, Central Asia is unambiguous.

These taxis are taxis!!! to

Following the fall in vegetable prices, the European Union the successful implementation of its other initiatives: increasing the light day by summer and warming the sea by the holiday season.

Interesting psychology.
Did you know that introverts are much better at hiding than extroverts?

38 years ago, at the International Film Festival in Denmark, the first place was taken by the Soviet cartoon "A dog lived". And in 2012 at the Suzdal Festival of animated film this cartoon was recognized as the best of the last 100 years. On it grew up more than one generation of children, and the phrases of Dog and Wolf have long become winged. Many interesting moments remained behind the frame: viewers are unlikely to know that in the first version of the cartoon the wolf looked quite different, and the name did not miss the censorship.
The fairy tale "Sirko" the future cartoonist Eduard Nazarov read as a child, and 30 years later it again fell into his hands. At that time he was an artist at the All-Union animation studio "Sojuzmultfilm". He later told me:
At first glance, the story is completely unnoticeable. It is very short, only 15 lines. But there was only one expression: “I’m singing!” and I got caught up with it. I began to think about what life the wolf had, what the dog had when they were young... Well, and so things gradually unfolded.”
The preparation process was very serious and long. In the 1970s. Nazarov frequently visited his army friend in the small Ukrainian town of Tsurupinsk, which then resembled a large village. According to the director, the "mood and smell", which created the unique atmosphere in the cartoon, came from there. And to create drawings of clothes, household appliances, dishes and other important little things, Nazarov went to ethnographic museums, including the famous Pirogov.
The final strike in creating the atmosphere and colour of the Ukrainian village was music, which the director made at the Institute of Folklore and Ethnography of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR. Employees gave Nazarov a magnetophone coil with recordings of Ukrainian songs collected by ethnographs in the villages. The song "Oh there, on the mountain", which sounded in the cartoon, probably everyone remembers. But few people know about what it sounds like in the performance of the folklore collective "Tree". At the same time, its participants did not even suspect that this song was chosen for the cartoon, and that soon their voices will be heard by the whole Union.
One of the participants of the “Drevo” group, Nadezhda Rozdabar, said: “Even in 1958, the folklore collector Vladimir Matvijenko came to us from the Kiev Conservatory. We gathered in a local club with young families: I and my husband, Fedor, Zagorulki, Malyshenki. Under the guidance of Galina Popko, several songs were sung. Matvienko listened, and two years later he touched us again. From that moment on, we officially started acting as a collective.”
In 1982, they recorded 24 songs at the recording studio "Melody", and in the same year came out the cartoon "A dog lived", in which this composition sounded, which became a complete surprise for the participants of the musical team.
Initially, the timing of the film was 15 minutes. However, the material had to be reduced - due to disagreements with the head of the studio "Sojuzmultfilm" the director had to cut several scenes: "I wanted the story to be clearly told, but in the end, some things turned out to be short-talk. For example, a scene where a wolf and a dog are sitting on a mountain and crawling to the moon would like to be made longer. In general, a lot of things could be extended purely psychologically.” The original title of the animated film was changed - "Life of a Dog". It seemed too suspicious to the management – what does the author hint?
The appearance of the wolf has changed. Initially it was planned that he would be voiced by the famous actor Mikhail Ulyanov, but he at the time was busy shooting and refused. Then invited Armene Jigarhanyan, but here it turned out that the appearance of the character disharmonizes with his voice. The wolf had to be repaired. As a result, Wolf turned out to be so similar to Jigarhanyan that Nazarov even began to worry:
“When Jigarhanyan first entered the tone studio, sketches of the main characters were laid out on the piano. I see the dull Armene Borisovich – well, the real Gorbatchay from “The Meeting Place cannot be changed!” He approached the piano and looked at the same wolf I painted. I thought that Jigarhanyan would now offend and kill me. But he looked and cried, “What, nothing. A good wolf. Let us work!”
The dog was voiced by Georgy Burkov, who then again worked together with Jigarhanyan on the soundtrack of the cartoon "The Adventures of the Pig Funtik".
The premiere of the cartoon in 1982 produced a real furor. A year later, it was evaluated in Denmark, Poland, Yugoslavia and Australia. "A dog has lived" is still not losing its popularity among children and adults. When the director was asked what he sees as the secret of such a popularity of the cartoon, he replied:
“Cinema is madness. For yourself, write pictures or communicate using the computer. And when making a movie, you have to think that the viewer doesn’t fall asleep on your movie.”

After a lecture for HR specialists, one of the listeners asks the speaker:
Interviews take a lot of time. Tell me, how can you as quickly as possible determine which person in front of you is an idiot or a normal?
of course. Ask him a simple question. For example: "It is known that Cook made three trips, during one of which he died. During what exactly?”
Can you give another example? I had a bad time with geography at school.

Xxx: I drove a long time ago in the tram late in the evening.

The conductor (woman) and the driver (man) were arguing about something through the door of the cabin for a while. After this, the conductor forcefully blocked the door and the evil went to collect passengers who entered during the dispute.

And then the driver in the microphone says: People forgive me. I love you very much!

The eyes of the conductor with tears of happiness and smiling such a kindness of passengers I still remember.

Let the years go peacefully, and the wicked go by.

And who is this Valery Kosolapov, why should I write about him, and you read? Valery Kosolapov for one night became a righteous man, and if he did not, we would not have known the poem of Yevtushenko "Baby Yar". Kosolapov was then the editor of the "Literary newspaper", which published this poem on September 19, 1961. It was a real civil feat.
After all, Yevtushenko himself admitted that these poems were easier to write than to print at the time. The history of writing is related to the fact that the young poet met with the young writer Anatoly Kuznetsov, who told Yevtushenko about Baba Yar. Yevtushenko asked Kuznetsov to take him to the woods, and was completely shocked by what he saw.
“I knew there was no monument there, but I expected to see some memorial or some well-maintained place. And suddenly I saw the most ordinary garbage, which was turned into such a sandwich of stinking garbage. And this is in the place where tens of thousands of innocent people, children, old people, women, lay on the ground. In front of our eyes, trucks came in and dropped to the place where these victims were lying, new and new bunches of garbage,” Yevtushenko said.
He asked Kuznetsov, why a sinister conspiracy of silence around this place? Kuznetsov replied because 70 percent of the people who participated in these atrocities were Ukrainian police officers who cooperated with the Nazis, and the Germans provided them with all the darkest work of killing innocent Jews.
Yevtushenko was simply shocked, as he said, so "shamed" of what was seen, that in one night he composed his Poem, and that night he was definitely a righteous man. In the morning he was visited by several poets headed by Korotych, and he read them new poems, then he called some... someone "stuck" the Kiev authorities, and the concert Yevtushenko wanted to cancel. But he did not give up and threatened a scandal. And that evening, for the first time, “Baby Yar” sounded in the hall.
“There was a minute of silence, and I thought that silence was endless. There, a little old lady came out of the hall, shrinking, relying on a stick, slowly passed through the scene to me. She said that she was in Baba Yar, she was one of the few who managed to scatter through the dead bodies. She worshipped me with earthly worship and kissed my hand. I have never been kissed by anyone in my life,” Yevtushenko said.
Then Yevtushenko went to the “Literary newspaper”. Its editor was Valery Kosolapov, who replaced Twardovsky himself in this post. Kosolapov was heard as a very decent and liberal man, naturally within certain limits. His partner ticket was with him, otherwise he would never have been in the chair of the glove.
Kosolapov read the poems directly under Yevtushenko and with the arrangement immediately said that the poems are very strong and necessary.
What will we do with them? Cossack was thinking out loud.
How what? I pretended I didn’t understand Yushchenko. to print.
Yevtushenko knew very well that when they said “strong poems”, they immediately added, “but you can’t print them now.” But Kosolapov looked at Yevtushenko sadly and even with some tenderness. As if it was not his decision.
and yes. He thought and then said, “Well, you’ll have to wait, sit in the hallway. I have to call my wife. I asked, why should I call this woman? He says it must be a family decision. I wonder why family? I will be fired from this post when it is printed. I need to consult her. Go and wait. In the meantime, we will go to the set.
Kosolapov knew he would be fired. This is not just the loss of a job. This meant loss of status, falling out of the nomenclature. Deprivation of privileges, payments, travel to prestigious sanatoriums.
Yevtushenko was worried. He sat in the corridor and waited. The wait was long, and it was unbearable. The poem immediately broke up in editorial and printing. He was approached by simple working printing, congratulated, shrugged his hand. An old recruiter arrived. “He brought me a slice of vodka, and a salty cucumbers with a piece of blackheads. The old man said, “Hold on, you hold on, they’ll print, you’ll see.”
And then Kosolapov’s wife came and locked up with him in his office for almost an hour. She was a big woman. On the front she was a sanitary, many took on her shoulders from the battlefield. And here this grenader goes out and approaches Yevtushenko: "I't say that she was crying, but a little bit of her eyes were on a wet spot. He looks at me studying and smiles. And he says, “Don’t worry, Zhenya, we decided to be fired.”
Listen, it is just beautiful. It is strong: “We decided to be fired.” It was almost a heroic act. Only the woman who walked on the front under bullets could not be afraid.
Problems started in the morning. They came from the Central Committee and shouted, “Who missed, who drank?” but it was already late – the newspaper was sold in kiosks.
“During the week, thousands and tens of letters, telegrams and radiograms even came from ships. The poem spread like lightning. He was transmitted by phone. There were no faxes. Called, read and recorded. I even got a call from Kamchatka. I asked how you read it, because the newspaper has not reached you yet. No, they say, we were read by phone, we recorded from hearing,” Yevtushenko said.
At the top of course they were avenged. Articles were organized against Yevtushenko. Cosworth was fired.
Yevtushenko saved the reaction in the world. Over the course of a week, the poem was translated into 72 languages and printed on the front lines of all major newspapers, including American. Within a short period of time, Yevtushenko received 10,000 letters from different corners of the world. And of course, not only Jews wrote letters of thanks. Not just the Jews. The poem captured many. There were also a lot of hostile actions. He was scratched the word "J" on the car and threatened.
“Great, basketball-growth guys from the university came to me. They volunteered to protect me, although there were no attacks. But they could be. They were sleeping on the staircase cage, my mother saw them. So people supported me very much, Evtushchenko recalled. And the most important miracle, called Dmitry Dmitrievich Shostakovich. My wife and I didn’t believe it at first, we thought it was a kind of hooligan calling, playing us. He asked me if I would give permission to write music for my poem.”
This story has a good ending. Kosolapov so decently accepted his dismissal that the party conspiracy was frightened. They thought he was so calm that someone was probably behind him. And after some time he was returned and put in charge of the magazine "New World". “And there was only a conscience behind him,” Yevtushenko summed up. It was a man.
by Vadim Malev

The shoes that breathe in the rain are also drinking.

They went to the village (there is a friend's house), drunk, of course, in the mess. And here, when I was already thinking badly, someone from the local got a steak box with some grass/tobacco inside. He offered me. Without long thinking, I took one and ate. It was later explained to me that it was necessary for a moment to hold this green piece behind my lips and then spit that wild in the ashes, and then I didn’t know – and brutally paid. Overall, in a moment I felt something terrible started happening in my stomach: as if a volcano started erupting right inside of me! And at the same time, the information from the sensors on the valves went to the brain: the ass just started to break, and a nauseous bump drove to the throat. When I realized that I wasn’t an interlocutor anymore, I decided to go where my problems could be solved. But fucking, it’s a village, a sorter on the street, and I’m in a strange house and I don’t even know where the door is! Pulling my mouth with one hand and bulky with the other, I ran into the darkness of the hallway and saw the light at the end of the tunnel, it looked like an exit. At this point, the rear valve got very bad, I realized that the count was going for seconds and ran into the pleasant moonlight doorway. Running out to the doorstep I realized that... there is no wing, but there is a small slope, which I have already jumped through by inertia and dumbly fall down. Since I clamped the technological holes in my hands, I fell down like in a cartoon - plasma, fucking down. And then the terrible thing happened: the valve broke from the blow and I, blatantly, exploded - began to fight fiercely and blatantly at the same time. I licked in two streams, like from a projectile-thrown water pipeline! It was terrible, but I couldn’t do anything. All I had in mind was to run to the sorting, so I, continuing to blame and blame, got up and ran in the direction where he should have been in my opinion. I made a mistake and stumbled into the wool. He ran to the other side, and there was a chicken. It was at this moment that my disappearance was discovered and the owners of the house looked out the window, where a terrible picture appeared to their eyes: a guest from Moscow, taking off his pants, ran there and there along their site, blurring and squeezing everything on his way. This chewing stops only when there is no liquid left in the body except blood. Then I just fell and crashed. The area could no longer be saved. I even managed to get into a chicken. I think that time I lost five pounds in a couple of minutes.

For some reason, I was not invited to the village anymore.

It would be interesting to know if the wife asked Socrates the question, "Am I not fat?“And what did he answer to him?

Electricity is delayed for 20 minutes, on the platform all frozen and angry, after work, I want to go home, we wait.
No one announces when the train will arrive, like waiting for information.
Finally, the electric car arrives, everyone is loaded, sitting crowded, waiting for departure.
And then a ruby guy with a cake tied up with a tape enters the car and screams at the phone:
“You can imagine, today is the most fantastic day in my life! I ran out of inertia, in despair, I was terribly late! She is standing, waiting for me. I am going! I get to you! Ura is?“?”
And we all smiled, relaxed, as if we were all specifically waiting on the perron for him to get to her with his cake. Let’s go, let’s smile, let’s make a cake.