xxx: I communicate very correctly with people, especially in the service fair. But when a person goes beyond the framework, I include a particular beadlane. Fortunately, 25 years of life lived in the most district of Kharkiv, where you can explain and load all the shit. So, as soon as you switch to the interlocutor's understandable language, everyone immediately calms down. Here are a few phrases for a note, how to start a conversation with such as this taxi driver, who may be useful:

What are you doing so!!? to

Have you decided to fuck?!!! to

You can also offer your options!!! to



Yyy: I used the option “you decided to fuck up?” He answered yes. What to answer next?



Yyy: If you can - give a quick answer, or we have a ridiculous pause here.

XXX: I have a colleague. Her father abandoned them when she was still very young. A colleague grew up without a father, never saw him, he did not contact at all. The colleague received a good education, worked for law enforcement agencies, served as deputy chief of the department, was approximately 2008. And then one day she sits at work and calls from an unknown number. Father joyfully calls, buhoy, says that he finally found her, how many years he was looking for (although then it turned out to live in one city 80 thousand people population). And immediately goes to the "affair": he says he drank with a friend, decided to go fishing, stopped the mint and now the protocol is drawn up, the pipe is not blowing, you can still have time to "save" him, if she quickly resolves this issue, she is the boss, say, give him a father. " A colleague asked the name of the haishnik, called him, asked about the case, said that they were both in the slum, and a colleague told them to fuck them out there properly. After that, her father didn’t call her anymore, and she wasn’t much worried about it.

It’s time to think about people...Where, shit, are so many fools?

It is a Somali cat. He needs special care.

A neighbor went on holiday for two weeks and brought us something with a hanging to the floor belly and two eyelids.

"The Frog and the Traitor" was read on the face of a cat as he looked at the hostess explaining to us how to feed a Somali.

To our surprise, the musician ate things we didn’t even try.

The calf, cooked turkey and rabbit in our family has never been cooked. The cat fell on the side in the middle of the kitchen and watched my grandmother, who in the war was eating potato cleansers, astonished at the varied menu of a sucking cat.

How did he deserve such a meal? Did he fight? Okay, here are those rescue dogs... well, who pull people out of the rubble... And your Music saved someone?

We all looked at the cat, trying to understand what his merit was.

The musician slowly flashed and closed his eyes.

Ignoring the question, the neighbor took a small pot out of her pocket that contained a couple of teaspoons of red caviar and said that you could give a cat ten caviars a day for vitaminization.

Standing in the passage between the corridor and the kitchen, I heard the grandmother, accompanying Galina, quietly said to herself under the nose "Huanization".

The neighbor stopped at the door and exhaled the last command:

Let someone of you always be there. He does not tolerate loneliness.

What does he not endure? My grandmother asked.

“Loneliness,” repeated Galia and added, “you have to play with it, scratch it, smooth it. Just don’t touch your head – he doesn’t like that. Better on the back.

The first thing a grandmother did when the door closed was to put her hand on the Somali man’s head, between his ears. This gesture meant that vitaminization was cancelled.

Do you have chicken stomachs?

The cat whispered, but the grandmother pressed a little harder and said that we would play now, so that the animal did not think of dying alone.

The grandmother took the mirror and let the sunny rabbit in the room. Such a game the musician did not know and probably remembered for the rest of his life. Within an hour, the cat caught the necklace.

The rabbit slipped through the walls, to the ceiling itself, then returned, threw the cat in his legs, walked through the mocked mouth and washed up again. At some point, I even wanted the sun to go down before the cat had a heart attack.

At sunset, the musician ate the chicken’s stomachs, blinked and fell asleep.

My grandmother made me a sandwich:

Let’s get vitaminized, Len! I will try the rabbit tomorrow.

The problem of producing meat from plants is that there is already a highly efficient technology for producing meat from plants – cow.

I had a shameful story at school. I crashed into a girl from the parallel (10th grade). I just liked it crazy. And to approach her, of course, I did not decide. He was very shy, although the language was suspended from a young age and there were no problems with communication. Friends did not want to admit to me as a sausage (youth prejudice about imaginary steaminess, cynicism, invulnerability), and feelings required some sort of expression. And I didn’t think of anything better than to start trolling my classmate and friend about the fact that it was he who fell in love with that girl. As soon as she and her friends were nearby, I immediately began to smile to describe the allegedly crazy appearance of my comrade, projecting on him my own heart whisper in a nutty. He urged him to come to them and talk to them. He was just joking, saying I was nonsense. Go, go, go when you need to. Where am I, of course? So it lasted more than six months, we already crossed in the 11th, and I didn't let everything go. From trolling I have already moved to the same, described in the post, complementary etudes. I started to motivate a friend, saying, what are you showering, guy, she is like a cool girl. The eyes, the figure, the smile. Come here. Invite him to a dance at the disco... And he turned everything around the whisky and laughed. You need to think about the upcoming arrival. Preparation for the exams (at the time there was no EGE). And I am a wing, a host, like a wing, warm to remember.

At another school discotheque, I got him, and he invited her to a slow. And she refused him. It served as a bit of a pin under my ass, and although it wasn’t ethical, I finally decided to approach it myself. She danced with me. We finally met. As happy as in the next couple of months, I have been only a couple of times in my life. And that’s a shame... Someone else really liked this girl too.

My three-year-old asked how much more he would have to listen to me. I told him he would listen to me for the rest of his life. He looked at me harshly and corrected, “Until the end of your life.” The kids are cruel, man.

xxx: It's yes when room 28 is straight, and I've had last month that day that night was stable 34, the sunny side, her mother.

The Sunny Side of What? and Mercury?

The case was in the 1990s. The cabbage harvest that summer exceeded all possible records. And they roasted and roasted and marinated, except that they had not yet cooked. Throwing out is also a pity.

My grandfather, squeezing a little and scratching in the back of his head, took a wooden chair and put on it a cabbage good for a cabbage on the street, attaching a sign "FREE".

After an hour or two, the grandfather discovered all the cabbage good in full composition on the ground, and the chair as never before.

Halva, my dear ones, is a tricky thing.

No State Department has even dreamed of destabilizing the internal situation in our country so effectively as is achieved by the way of life of our ULITA.

I am leaving the parking lot of Ashan, and here the old seven is crushing me in the back. Oh yeah my! The grandfather comes out, the beard gray, scratches the glowing scarf and says, "Son, forgive me, I have no insurance, let's decide on the spot." Well, I think iron, I forgive grandfather. I say, “Well, let’s fix it...” And then his grandmother comes out of the passenger and says, “What hero? You don’t see, we’re gone! Pay the damages immediately.” Grandfather in his eyes panic, takes her elbow, and says, "Sorry, Nina Sergeevna, but I'll finally fuck you..."

The Russian Foreign Ministry announced the arrival of a delegation of Somali pirates to the talks in Moscow.

xxx: I was so acquainted said that in the evening in our area it is better not to battle, there are some muddy three copniks, I still thought, strangely, how many evenings with Igor and Denis walked around the area - no copniks were seen, and then as I understood...

I will tell the story with the words of a friend. His parents live in the village. And all on manual work: a meat machine, a wig, even washed in a laundry. are accustomed. Everyone is trying to buy them something, and they are not at all. They don’t need anything, everything suits them. They say, “Now the technology will do everything for us, and what will we do?” He does not want to sell the goods against his will. Then he came up with a clever plan.



He buys (sometimes pretends to buy) something, for example, an electric meat machine, calls his parents, tells them how cool it is, how convenient it is to use. And after a while, he calls his parents, says that he bought a better thing, and he throws out the old one or that he no longer needs the thing.



How is it! - The parents are outraged, - you said, she is offgenic.

to speak. But I will not use it anymore. It will dust. Better I throw it out.

What a throw! Parents are upset, such a good thing and throw away?

What else to do? If you want, I can give you.

Better give it to us.



And so slowly parents buy things.

The Israeli Embassy in Kiev. A crowd of Jews in line. It tells

A woman who came to the embassy from another city.

I was advised when I would take a taxi from the station to the embassy.

The taxi driver is not called the “Israeli Embassy” but the “Suvorov School.”

(which is in the opposite direction). I’m in a taxi, I say.

The Suvorov School.

Taxi driver – 20 hryvnia!

I am terrible – 15!

Taxi driver: Yes, you probably do!

Diplomacy is the art of deceiving so that you don’t get caught.

I went to the post.
receiving the package.
I took the pocket, held the line, I approached.
The mailing aunt, looking at the receipt, said, “So you have a baggage! A betrayal from the other side!”
I walked around the building on the other side, standing in line.
The same aunt, passing from the other side: “Now it’s right, hold on!”

They say that those Moscovites who have not vaccinated will be expelled to Russia.

Times are such that the title of the novel "Three Comrades" is better written with a number.

Previously, at the slaughterhouses, so that the cows were not afraid to go to the cattle slaughter shop, a specially trained goat was released. The goat was walking in the workshop, and the cows, seeing that he was not afraid, followed him. Then the goats were taken away, and the herd was slaughtered.
The profession of a goat was such a goat provocator.
So you look at the advertisement of some shit, and there are always showing the goat of the provocator, who bleeds, like out like all the nuts, I use and normal. And the herd is kept, because the goat is known to all, and all so beautiful, well-maintained, so it needs us.