Wow, how striking is the attachment of the grammatical genus to the biological sex. They are not connected, they are not connected. False feminists have all cared about their "doctors", "engineers" and "authors"(it is like the type-loved writer not to respect it is necessary to degenerate such a word!) Because of the same glucose. Nevertheless "what is your dream. But in general, he is a personality. A creative guy! And what is Mary Petrovna for a man like that"
The sword with a female name preserves the male grammar without problems. Just like the tank "Baby".

At night, the rats do not sleep.
The rats move the commodity.
Right, left and back.
through the cover,
Then a jump, a push.
stumbled on a barrel,
They broke, they broke,
Shredded by shredder!
And in the commodity - dishes, traffic jams,
cakes in a box,
Break two with a half pound.
And glass dishes.
Guess what nonsense?
I do not have a commodity!
There is no hiccups or interruptions.
Especially the box!
The dwarf flies in the dark,
in the shell,
And a cry of annoyance:
“What are you crazy about, fucking?“!”
by Volha

The story happened to me a few years ago. In the apartment ended fireworks, the wife says go to the neighbors take. Well, I went out to the entrance knocking to the neighbor - his wife opens with a child in her arms. Please a lighthouse. He says go, say, take it to the kitchen. I go into the kitchen looking for flashbacks – in the upper closet behind the coffee bowl, he says, look. Well, okay - I find, take, relate to the wife that lights the confectionery, I bring back to the neighbor.

After a couple of months, I walk with this neighbor, drink, rest. I’m going to smoke on the balcony, but there’s no lighter. He begins to cramping in the kitchen looking for flashbacks, and then I say, “Well, they’re on the top shelf behind a cup of coffee!” I had never seen a worse look on myself...Blessedness explained everything...It seemed like it happened.

I am depressed.
Today is a very sad day. After seven years of medical studies and exhausting work, my very good friend was fired after one small reproach. He slept with one of the patients and can now not continue to work on the specialty. How much time, effort, study and money is wasted! A really good guy and just a brilliant pathologist.

The guys! If you want girls to be kind to you, it is enough not to be a complete fool. Be dumb thin, and better even dumb pumped, and then the girls will be drawn to you.

“Do you know, Cosheus, that after the seventh wedding, and even at Basil-Kras, there was a rumor among the people that your strength was in eggs?! to

Knights and Jealousy.

What about the belts of loyalty?
In one book on this subject it was said:
"You can’t do it!"

Do you like to ride mountains? I love the X-ray.

If there's something strange in you systems, Who you gonna call?", I'm glad to answer "Ghostbusters!!and "

I came to the mail for the mail, and there is a huge line. The mood was not very good, but it was completely ruined. Suddenly a woman approaches me, asking for a pencil. The first thought was not to give, purely from harm, and then I thought that the man was neither in my mood nor in the turn to regret the pencil for him. and shared. And at this point, the employee of the mail loudly announces: "who the package without registration and payment to get - let’s get the receipts".
In general, "do good, throw it into the water" :)

xxx> Well imagine if immortality is real
yyy> That’s how much to do!

For many centuries, from generation to generation, the Elf kings passed on a powerful artifact - the Sword of Light. It was a very good sword. And he served his masters in faith and truth, dividing his enemies to the right and to the left. And then one day the army of elves was defeated by the superior forces of the enemy, and some Orc sergeant, raising the defended sword, respectfully pronounced "Sham Gyr!", which in oroch means "not a bad weapon!". Since then, the artifact has been serving the new owners and is called Shamgir. What is right. Light is not the best name for a sword.

© Bormor

What is the first news, good or bad?
We decided unanimously, hoping with all our heart that the good is not that the bad is only one.

“Always remember that the crowd that handshakes your coronation is the same crowd that will handshake your headlessness. People love the show.” – Terry Pratchett

Here is the answer to the question of all times, countries and situations, why the authorities do not care about their people.

In the army, every talent will find a decent application. For example, if the artist is welcome to paint the fence. A musician with absolute hearing? Stand on the shaker. If there are no talents at all, then they will surely be discovered in you, developed, and used as intended. I, among my other unconditional talents, owned a poster pen. Nowadays, in the age of printers and plotters, it is even difficult to imagine how in demand at the time was the ability to make a straight line on a vatman sheet with a black carpet.

I learned this simple skill in school, in the lessons of physical education. In the eighth grade I pulled the ligaments, and our bodybuilder, Nikolai Nikolaevich, arranged me to draw the tables of school sports records. And while the whole class was jumping, running, and playing volleyball, I was sitting in a small chamber, where there was a sharp smell of leather and ski resin, among balls, cups, and wimpels, and pushing out my tongue to carry from a thick notebook onto a sheet of wattman the numbers of sports results.

At what point did I realize that changing these numbers at my discretion was worth nothing? I do not know. I just fell in love with the girl Olya from the parallel, and one day, filling out the table of results for jumping in length, I suddenly saw that I could easily increase her score by a couple of meters. “I think she’ll be happy,” I thought. Soon, with my light hand, Olechka became the champion of the school not only in jumping, but in all sports, except for the free fight, in which the girls did not participate. I burned in this nonsense. Someone accidentally noticed that Olechkin's result in running a hundred meters for a few seconds better than the last world record. A scandal broke out. Did I suffer from a bite of conscience? No is. After all, I achieved the main thing. Attention to Olive. Olecka said, "Here is the shit!", that there is strength, she stumbled my wallet on my back, and had not spoken for a month. Agree, even a couple of cracks from Nikolai Nikolaich is not too high price for such a success. By the way, from him I heard for the first time the phrase that "babies in my life will not play the most positive role." As he was right, our wise school coach Nikolai Nikolaich. But history is not about that. In short, as a result of the investigation, I was forever disconnected from school records, and I was immediately drawn to drawing school tables. Then, already in the factory, I didn’t paint anything. Stengazet, social competition schedules, and evacuation plans. Per somewhere there, in the dust of dark factory workshops, still hang my hard-handed safety instructions, who knows? From there, from the factory workshops, I was soon called into the ranks of the Soviet Army. My talent has not remained unwanted for long.

One friend, to whom I told this story, asked – and how (in the army) will learn about other people’s talents? A stupid question. The answer is obvious – it’s hard to hide anything from the people with whom you exist side by side 24/7. You sit, for example, on combat duty, and carefully, with a calligraphic handwriting, fill a greeting card to your mother. Through your shoulder, your companion is watching you. And the companion said, “Opp! You are the military, you are the army!” And here is the turn of fellow servants, mainly from the Asian and Caucasian regions of our vast homeland, with the request to make them "so-your-your-your-your-yourself". And now you sign cards in packs with your birthday, with New Year's Day, and with March 8 to every Fatima, Guydchatai, and Ruzanna. Not difficult though. Then, when you establish yourself, you can trust the Dumbledore album. Where a thin pen on a crispy calc is good to draw the words of favorite soldier songs about how slowly the missiles sail away, and about high readiness.

After this responsible occupation, I was one day caught by the commander of communication of the regiment, Major Shepel.
In fact, the whole story only begins here.

What to say? It was a specific flight. Major not only held someone’s almost ready-made Dumbell album in his hands, he held my future in his hands. And that fate was uncertain. According to all the rules, the album was subject to immediate destruction, and what would happen to me didn't even want to think.
Meanwhile, the major, without much interest, turned the album in his hands, thoughtfully smelled a bubble with a mortar, and suddenly asked:
“Do you own a pencil?”
“Of course!” I answered.
“Come to my office!” he said, threw the album on the table and went out.

This was the beginning of our mutually beneficial cooperation. In other words, he struck me to draw a visual agitation. Comparative TTCs of our and American missiles, characteristics of individual types of armed forces, numbers of probable damage in the case of a missile-nuclear strike, and other useful information that hanged on the walls as a commander of the service forces, where I was never in my life due to the lack of permission. Since almost all of the information I had to transfer to the Watman had the inscription "completely secret", it all happened as follows. When the major was in office for a day, he called me out of the barracks in the evening, gave a task, and locked up until morning in his office. I went to sleep in the rest room of the shift.

That was the case on that unfortunate night. After dinner, the major called me to the CPC, got the necessary papers from the safe, asked if I had everything to do for the good of the homeland, and left. I forgot to lock the door on the other side. And about an hour later, when I decided to smoke, I discovered that I had only two cigarettes left in the pack.
It happens. You run, you run, there is still a stock in the tub, and suddenly it turns out – where are you, and where is the tub? In short, I remained without a chicken. A couple of cigarettes were not enough for a short time, by midnight the ears began to swell. I drowned to my nails the last bull found in the ashes and began to think. If I were at least a rope, the problem would be solved with one phone call. But I was a stranger, and at night I could only call myself or God. The brain, stimulated by nicotine hunger, was convulsively looking for a way out. There were two exits, a door and a window. There was nothing to think about the door, it didn’t even have a lock well inside. The window was sealed. If it wasn’t for this damn grille, then from the window to the promised cellar, straight through the fence, there were some fifty meters.

I went to the window and put up a bar. She was attached with four screws straight into the window. Clear visibility, of course, but the screws are screws, you will not approach with bare hands. I wandered around the office looking for something suitable. is useless. “Al your teeth wreak these screws,” I thought, and in despair I tried to wreak the screw with my fingers. Suddenly he gave up easily and left. Still not believing in my luck, I tried the others. Ura to! Today, the fate clearly favoured the unfortunate chickens. I painted the windows a month ago. The grid was naturally removed. When the screws were put back, they did not stretch, so as not to spoil the fresh paint, and then they simply forgot to stretch. Well lubricated screws descended from their landing places like a rocket with a whistle. A minute later, the barracks stood by the wall. The path was open! I breathed the thick May air with my full breasts, climbed onto the window and was ready to jump out, but for some reason looked back and stumbled. The table behind was covered with papers. Each piece of paper had the inscription “secret”. It was wrong to leave them in this form. Of course, to assume that now a saboteur will jump out of the taiga and scratch these papers was complete paranoia. But we were so stunned by the regime of secrecy that it was not even from the probability of such an outcome, but simply from the very possibility that it was already unpleasantly cold in the genitals. So I returned, carefully rolled all the papers into a tight roll, pulled my palm, put the roof in place for the case, and jumped into the May night.

After flying over the fence of the bird, in a minute I was in the barracks. I took the cigarettes, went to the toilet, chatted with the daytime, went out on the doorstep, and only here finally smoked with pleasure. There was nowhere to hurry. I stood on the doorstep, smoked, listened to the sounds and smells of the spring taiga, and was just about to move back, as far away, from the side of the headquarters, steps and silenced voices were spread. After smoking a cigarette, I hid myself from the sin beyond the corner of the barracks.

Apparently, there were two officers on the take-off, talking about something lively. Soon they came so close that the voices became clearly distinct.
So be calm, Comrade Major. Why panic early?
This voice belonged to Major Shum, the commander of the command post. He served in part today.
“And I tell you, Comrade Major, you have to call the alarm and raise the regiment!”! to
From the second voice I had a sharp cold in my back. The voice had distinct hysterical notes and belonged to Major Shepel. Which, according to my version, was supposed to be sweeping in the rest room now.
What will give you an alarm? Only the people are overwhelmed. Flegmatically speaking, Major Noise.
How what? → We need to break the taiga! He could not go far anyway! A loud whisper excitedly shouted to him in response Shepel.
The officers of chance stopped right in front of me. I knew both well enough. Not to say that they were the complete opposite, but it was difficult to put them next to them. Major Shepel, young, tall, tight, in appearance and manners resembled the officers of the Russian army, as we knew them from the films about the civil war. Major Shum, low and rooted, was a dozen years older, and belonged to the category of Soviet officers, which is sometimes characterized by the tangible word "phuist". The relationship between them was far from comradeship, so even at night, in a personal conversation, they addressed each other officially.
Do you understand, Comrade Major, what it means to chew the taiga at night? He said noise. Instead of one soldier, we will lose half of the personnel. Half will be lost, the other will drown in the swamp! Who will bear the bead? Your soldiers are nowhere! He will appear at home in a week and go to court.
And the documents?! to
What documents?! to
I tell you, Comrade Major! He left with his papers!! He took a piece of paper with him and left. Documents of strict accounting, all under the grip! So it’s not him, it’s me going to court tomorrow!!! Let’s get up at least the BBO!! Headquarters of Communication!
Well guess, Comrade Major! Let’s go to Cape first! I have to make sure.
And the officers moved towards the CPC of the command post.

I had a good fork. Through them through the perimeter, I through the fence, three times shorter. When the steps were spread behind the door and the key was checked in the lock well, the roof was already in place, the papers were laid down on the table, and I even managed to draw a fresh curved line with a trembling hand. The door suddenly opened, and a silent scene of three participants was formed. Then Major Shepel began to run quietly and somehow side by side from the table to the safe and back, checking the integrity of the documentation. He kept moving his lips silently all the time. Then he ran to the window and laid a jail. Then he ran to me, and what is the urine spotted:
Where were you, Comrade of Soldiers?! to
Where are you, Comrade Major? It was here! Trying to make the face as foolish as possible, I answered, following the old thief's commandment, that a sincere confession of course mitigates guilt, but greatly extends the term.
Where is “here”? I was there half an hour ago and you weren’t there!!! She continued to scream.
You may not have noticed, Comrade Major. I changed it.
It completely shattered him. Having caught a full thumb of air, but not finding the suitable sounds for which this air could be spent, Major Shepel suddenly jumped out of the door, and somewhere quickly ran through the corridor.

The noise stood all this time, not taking any part in our conversation, and relentlessly looking at the tables on the table. When the door behind Shepel was blocked, he moved closer, and quietly, continuing to study the table, asked:
Where did you go, soldiers?
I was running for cigarettes in the company, Comrade Major. I also answered quietly. My cigarettes are over.
and Dolby. philosophically noticed by Major Noise. You will smoke on a dish. Why did you remove the documents?
How about Comrade Major? They are secret, so how can I keep them?
The young man. Did you know that there are papers that are generally forbidden to remove from the cape?
I can’t stand that, Comrade Major. I hid them there in the fence, and then took them. Uncomfortable with documents through the fence.
The noise shrugged my head. At this moment, Major Shepel broke into the room as a whirlwind.
I found out everything! He ran through the window! Under the window, there are traces. Comrade Major, I call for the immediate call and arrest of this soldier!
With what formulation? The noise was indifferent.
For a moment, Shepell stumbled, but immediately shouted:
The betrayal of the country!! to
It is great! - said the noise, and asked, - Can you just take him to the headquarters, and shuffle?
This unexpected offer surprised Shepel. In his eyes, he could see how much he liked it. And while he lived with the answer, the noise asked.
- Here you, Comrade Major, are locking the soldier for the night. Where do you go to the toilet, you think?
From such a sharp turn of the plot, Shepel fell into a light stupor, and apparently did not even understand the question.
What a toilet? What does the toilet have to do with it?! to
Toilet while the soldier should always have the opportunity to recover. Flegmatically said the noise, and added. - You know, Comrade Major, I would have been in the place of a soldier in the corner of you, and with your secret papers wiped up. Okay, let us do so. The soldier I take, he will sit until morning at my headquarters, and in the morning let the head of the special department decide what to do with him.
And by commanding “Fort!” he pushed me out.

We quietly passed by the territory of the command post, behind the gates of the CPC, the noise stopped, smoked, and said:
Go to sleep, soldiers. I have to go into the car park.
How about...? Oh yeah?! to
and forgot. Keep your tongue behind your teeth. And this fool, GM... Major Shepel, that is, in half an hour, will come and persuade me not to indicate anything in the report. Well, think, well what is your demand, you don’t even have permission to these documents. But for him, the head of the OSS, if he learns, the uterus with great pleasure will turn out, and wrap around his neck. Everything will be fine, don’t worry.

With these words, Major Shum turned and went to the side of the fleet. I smoked and broke a couple of flashbacks. Hands slightly shaken. After taking a few steps, the Major suddenly turned and cried out:
Oh my soldier!
Comrade Major?! to
You are beautiful... Well, a pen in the sense. I would like to update the instructions on the cape. You are how? With the rotting I decide, tea and chicken with me.
Comrade Major of course.
So we agreed. I won’t shut up at night, don’t be afraid.
I am not afraid.
And a good guy!
We laughed and each went his own way. began to shine. “Smirrno!” – briefly and sharply spread somewhere behind. “Free!” cried the Major. In front of him, a step on the concrete climb, there was a night shift.

Zakharova has denied that her boss has called Western journalists fools. No one called these idiots fools, she clarified.

From a memorial to a beginner Guru, or
Founder of the Autistic School of Unicorns

3) Sit down and think about the concept of style and name.
20 years ago, you should have given something eastern (the Shaolin fist, the Ninja Death Battle)
15 years ago – Russian, Excellence (Lapot Peresvet, Dlan Ratibor)
10 years ago – the special units run, the name only the abbreviation (SBOY, GROB, CRUST-5) The abbreviation should inspire fear and not be understandable even to the specialists-decryptors from the CIA.
5 years ago and still – something street, practical but with elements of the previous ones (Baklanka Shaolinya, Street Battle of Ratibor, etc.)

4) The clothes
20 years ago – kimono / shoes of Bruce Lee / shoe coat with a dragon / whatever you want, but with a hieroglyph
15 years ago and still camouflage. After all, everyone knows that the ancient Mages of Pripyat, the brave Killers of the GRU, and even the terrible Maloletki of Podvorny prefer to wear a stalled but strong parade shape of the missile troops of the model of 1974.

A great vomiting is obtained from the rat’s tail: you need to dry it, crush it in a pile, dilute it with three parts of water and give the patient a drink, and then say what it was.”

Talked to a friend. The one, having seen all sorts of reports about repairs, such as the "Apartment Question", is outraged:
- Invented shit of anywhere from the smartphone you can turn on and turn off the light in the house. The people were quite upset already - lazy ass from the couch to raise and click the switch!
Are you jealous?
and yes :(

I do not pretend to be the truth, but Bagira in Maugli has turned from a boy to a girl, and Phyllin in Winnie Pooh has turned into Sova. So with the belonging to one or another gender of the translated character, the translator is determined apparently based on the weather on Jupiter.

I read Harry Potter in English (terrified by the translation of the names Dursle and Dumbledore, bue). And when I first mentioned the character Lavanda Brown, I thought it was a guy (Lavender). And then that Lavender messed up with Ron. This is where I get into the dictionary.