I would never have thought that at 47 years old I would not go to bed until I did the lessons.

With his future husband lived in a dormitory on the outskirts. The area is quiet but good transportation, everything necessary nearby. One day, without rushing to the store, I notice a low hose on the lawn and there is a cute such stone on it. and stopped. I thought of the man who put him there. Probably a child. Or maybe a conditional sign...like the story of Conan Doyle’s dancing humanchildren. Or as in 17 seconds... the appearance failed! I love detective stories – fear! It amused me. Or maybe a dog or cat was playing in the grass and left a toy there. I am hz, but my attention this stone attracted. I looked around, found a similar one, put it next to me.

Several days passed by, watching the stones in the same quantities and "poses". I went out for a walk with my husband and decided to tell him about my observations. We pass by the “experimental” sandwich, I say:

Do you see the grass in the grass?

My husband looked at me with no surprise:

I recently put a stone there! Now there are two! Give up!

I asked cautiously:

Why put it?

Beautiful, let it lie to yourself.

The second I...

Do you joke?

– No...

I just remembered that story today. The solution was unexpected, but logical, as I think. We could not have met.)

The more generals are prepared for war, the more heroes will be needed.

The agency is looking for a 30-year-old girl to film in an advertisement, looking like at 50 years old.

Prepod suggests everyone to put referrals to him on the table with a stack, so that no one will scratch the papers, and quietly sit down on the sides, say, he will call one way. Then, a student is called, sitting in front of the lecturer. The work is placed by the title down and the student is asked the question: "Call the topic of your work"...... the half-group "was gone" immediately.

I remembered: we bought a ceramic tile for the country in the spring at 2.5k / m2. In 2 weeks we go to the store, I see this tile already at 1.5k / m2. It is unfortunate, softly speaking.

Carrying back from the farm to the store a couple hundred kilos I did not smile at all. So I am:

1. bought this tile again;

2. took everything on the cart from the warehouse of issue - immediately to the department of return of goods;

Three I paid back on the first check.

The result: almost 23k savings

Even when you vote for others, vote for yourself.

Once in a restaurant, when the waitress was making meals from the bench to the table, I noticed that the bench threateningly leaned and, assessing the risk of pouring tomato juice on my white pants at 99% on the Richter scale, suddenly turned back. My forecast came true – half a glass of juice splashed out where I was just sitting. I liked the waitress’s reaction.
You must be the first person who managed to turn away when I spilled something.

– Rabinovich, do you have a thousand before your salary?
And so yes! Thank you for worrying so much about me!

The forces are no longer. I’m still enthusiastic, but I’m already working with a screw.

In Tajikistan, students were voluntarily forced to collect cotton (well, as in Russia - for potatoes). Per this practice still exists today. Cleaning work took place from September to November. Nights in the cold barracks in the bedrooms, messy dirt, fights, drunkenness, secret smoking of anash and songs under the guitar at the fires in the cold starry nights. A romance from which everyone cracked as he could, because everyone came sick, broken, unwashed and frustrated.
Student units came to the disposal of the collective brigadier, conditions and attitude, gently speaking, left much to be desired. In addition, in spite of the "intelligence of the public", how the universities (pfff, this little changed) flourished the most real grandfatherhood and landscape: the primates worked for everyone, a mighty bunch of students from the bear corners of the republic scratched the city and pressed things, in short, such a Soviet-post-Soviet noir with an Asian colour.
As a graduate with the highest score in the local "Tajikistan MGIMO" - Munosabathoy байнаkhalki (which in translation from farsi means "international relations") from the first-class cotton campaign, I safely cut off, engaged in painting the local library and sorting books, where, by the way, I first met Kant and Ilhin.
But in the second course, my friends and I decided to go through these thorns, attracted by the questionable romance described above, the overwhelming stories of the elderly, the opportunity to deceive the wild-growing gangbang and the puberty desire to strike for classmates away from their harsh fathers and brothers. For a small bribe we were placed in the first stream, from mid-September to mid-October, in the warm, almost summer time. And we went.
Casus, and the fun, was with excess, there was a fight, as without it, but there was also a straight story. Second-graduates were something like army "cheppers", the bullying in their direction was less, and internationalists were not touched in any way and even privilegedly led to the collegiate bath twice a week, rather than one (here is a place to joke about the broken soap).
Heavily bullied first-time students and especially two friends, in one of whom I met a neighbor from the micro-district - the son of a local mule. For what? There was a rumor that the two were gay. In their free time they go somewhere alone.
Someone even followed them once and said, indeed, they were sitting somewhere in the oak and something there "lovingly whirled."
The grass reached the beating. The second boy came and was taken by the parents, and the son of the mulla was assigned to us in the building, away from the savages. But nothing ended: he will go out into the field - he and whisper, and scream, and in the dining dish given, said, "always go with her, my own," or the others do not want to get your dishes after you accidentally. And he is, what is remarkable, zero emotions. Absolutely such stoicism.
And the most interesting thing: this rumor about his alleged homosexuality, we somehow accepted. Yes, yes, this guy is like that. Only the savages will poison him, and we will not. Well, how will we not... No-no, someone will make some non-obligatory reprisal (there is a place to joke about the broken soap) But we have repeatedly publicly advocated it. So there was not only a masculine toxic on our part (such words we did not know then), but also support.
And already at the end of the works someone at dinner guessed to ask: is this really all in general and the second in particular? He only shrugged his shoulders. A mysterious man. But she is a great smart woman, and she reads in Arabic, and speaks English, and Russian, as in her native. Every morning: charging and brushing the teeth to the column, even when it is cold, and the column is in the yard. Sometimes we were lazy, and he never.
He also played chess. And I just brought a board with me, but I didn’t dignify anyone. And we started championships with him in the evenings. So we joined. We talk about different topics, we joke, we talk. But the topic of gender is not touched, I carefully bypass it, because the guy is good, and what is there and how - his business, endured all kinds of wilds.
We went home in the same bus, we were neighbors and now friends. And there, word for word, I don't remember already, in terms of what, I still licked something like:... you, these, well, who you are there, everything is apparently different, I don't care about this, but here my relationship with ladies is built about this way...
And then he starts laughing: “No, I’m not gay.” I am an ordinary boy, I even have a bride. Did you believe these rumors all the time? Well, I tell you that not. And if suddenly you are one of those and I disappointed you, then forgive me.
What did you do with that guy then? The Qur’an teaches. He expressed the desire to take faith seriously, I helped. (Here is an important note, for a Muslim very important, if thanks to him someone in the faith has been fulfilled, it is a great good and believers do not miss the chance to be missionaries, I have met this many times.)
You, of course, apologize, I say, but you have never publicly denied it, even when you were asked a direct question. And these humiliations that happened, as you ate out of the dish of this individual, all these clashes... you just ignored it all, it was enough for you to explain everything to everyone once and there would not be that all. And your reason for your standards was very respectful and noble, everyone would understand it.
And the seventh-year-old son of a Tajik Mullah said to me (I emphasize every word) (this is almost a direct quote):
I don’t think they are in principle right. That is, if I were to justify myself before them, I would think that a Muslim, or a Tajik, or a man cannot be humiliated, but a Hezbollah, or there, a woman, or someone else - can be. I think no one can be humiliated. And if I left my position and explained something to them, it would be that I betrayed myself.
As if, if I were what you think, it’s okay, but I’m not, so don’t beat.
They did not deserve, besides, that I should justify myself before them in anything. They first judged, then did, and then asked. Their answer did not interest me. They just like to humiliate. Their own. The Russians. The strangers. The weak ones. The Others. any of them. I speak and explain equally. I will be the first to say what I need, if I see dignity. He was not there.
Then I saw Man, friends, great in the very human sense of the word. It was the most progressive and wise at the same time I’ve heard in two years in the universe. Everything he said, I seemed to have "known the soul" always and when he said it, I seemed to have seen... I don't know how to express... some relative being in the highest sense, not a compatriot, not a blood relative, not a monotheist (although this is already closer), but... a brother of the spirit, no matter how pathetic it sounds.
I saw the Unbreakable Man, a man with the idea that he had carried it through trials and as if he had not noticed how cool he was.
Such stories that I have been fortunate to see are my walls and banners, I am protected and inspired by them, I am built out of them and I climb up the memory I have of them, like a ladder. It was the best that my new friend could give me and he did it. It cost him nothing. But he has given me what I will give to others all my life: an example of wisdom, dignity and courage.
We live in evil times, but in dark times the people of light shine brighter. I see a lot of such people today. My walls are strengthened. My flags roar in the wind of freedom.
Like many of my friends at the time, the hero of this story is not alive. However, he lived in the best of the worlds in which he kept his treasures: worthy words and deeds. His name is Rashid. Please think about him well. He will hear.

Vallar Morgulis

Don’t use marijuana, legalize free medicine!

I asked my 3-year-old son what he wanted to be when he grew up. I thought the answer would be banal: firefighter, cop or military. But no, he wants to become electric and beat everybody.

The son plays on the synthesizer, and instead of a notebook he has a tablet with a loaded partition page on the pipette. A man enters the room and cries pathetically:

Hi the future! One electronic device reproduces the algorithm recorded in it on another electronic device, using a biological object.

In the 8th or 9th grade, my friend and I had a dumb tradition (where I came from, I don’t remember): when we see a boy from a parallel class, we shout: Menchakov (his surname), we try to jump and overthrow him. And we must say, at this age we were already fully formed girls, and he was small and sensitive, but these fun Menjashakov liked even more than us. One winter evening, we go with a friend from school, see Meshakov, catch up, with the usual screams we fall into the snow and see the completely blurred look of the unknown guy. The man just walked and didn’t touch anyone, and two mature girls stumbled on him and praised him. It was extremely uncomfortable, he quietly stood up and walked a quick step away from us.

There was a student case. I gave some arch-complex colloquium on Matan (for me, in general, everything related to it was arch-complex), while preparing for the answer, biting out the whole pen. He got "good" and flew home just on the wings of happiness. Well, here I am all so positive in the route. And, apparently, a good mood was so key to me that even those around me noticed. The girls looked at me, smiling. But with one sweetheart they sat down and looked at it especially long. I just turn around and see with my side eye that he is looking at me. I turn to her, and she looks away and smiles so mysteriously.

I thought there was a spark between us. I was already going to shoot, shoot numbers, tell me that I have a fourth in the matan. Well, to make an impression, but I never decided. She went out earlier.

“That’s how people feel the subtle energy,” I thought. "We need to behave as confidently more often than we do today." And then I came home and saw that I had, it turns out, only half a fucking blue ink. Prepod, infection, also said nothing

At the end of the 1990s, he worked in a taxi service. And we had a "stable" there - for me, it was just a pipe that was allergenic. As he didn't sit in the car with me, I started to squeeze from coughing. And from all the service only I had such a reaction to her.



They hated each other. I repeatedly heard her asking the controller not to send this tuberculosis to her and he constantly refused to go to this syphosis.



I took a taxi yesterday through the in-driver. I approached the address, the passenger sat down, and I didn't even look at who was there and what - greeted and went. He almost immediately began to cough. Just like an attack. And the voice:



Oh hello to you! I did not recognize you immediately!



I go back and look at her. We have not seen each other for 20 years. Pleased each other. All the way he coughed and rejoiced, coughed and rejoiced.

Xxx: I also don’t like the noise, the jerk in vain, the whisper, the noise. I am an introvert, I love being at home, I love my home, it is dear to me, it is good and comfortable. It always seemed that people who disappear everywhere are those who don’t like their home, they don’t like it. I love movies, games and books. I love to come up with something and merge, play at home on electronic drums and guitar. I like to go into the electronics and sleep. Especially to sleep. This is without exaggeration. I do not like guests. It is very difficult when acquaintances come, and there are no common interesting topics, I have to pretend that I am interested in their topics, this is a titanic work, but it is necessary, because of this. I don’t want people to think badly about me. I like to be, but so that in the memory of others about me there are only positive moments in the surroundings. I do not like to cause inconvenience to anyone. (Yes, in drums and guitar only in headphones) At the public on their own will only if there is a close topic or just curiosity. It’s amazing how different they are, even though all people seem to have grown out of the same cave.



YYY: I understand you very well. I’t come to visit you or invite you.

If God did not give a woman patience, then he expected that she would somehow become hysterical.

Change of Generations

We sit in the house and rest. My wife is sleeping, my kids are with me. At the box some militant, and the hero shoots the clock with a knife.

Here, the elderly 16-year-old suddenly says, “Do you know how to throw knives?”
I : of course. As a child, I played with knives.
In the sense of childhood?! to
I: Well, there was such a fun before. When I was 6-7 years old, I started playing socks in the yard. In the territory or ships.
She: at 6 years old? Are you scratching again?! to
I: Yes, if you want to, let me learn.
We go out into the yard, I learn how to properly hold, how to approximately calculate the distance... I draw a circle. We start playing.

She after half an hour: "I still don't believe that before at 6 years old in knives played, children with knives walked..."

The woman goes out on the doorstep: “Oh, you’re playing with knives? I want to be with you! She hasn’t played since childhood!”—the daughter’s eyes are rounded, and the wife continues: “You don’t fix the brush, so Dad wins. I will teach you the right way!”
No scene

by Chupakabra981