Novopassit really helps me with PMS, you throw a bottle in the wall and relieved...

The xxx:
As a teenager once two or three seriously intended to learn to print in the blind, at the beginning of the program all kinds of training put, but nothing worked out. There was no patience beyond the central line to learn something. He taught simultaneously Russian and German with English. A short gesture. At some point, he was psychotic, bought an aerograph and painted the key in camouflage colors, as one of the heroes of the movie "Hacks" did with his notepad. For a week I hated myself for this decision, all the letters had to be searched over, but then suddenly everything worked out and the problems disappeared by themselves.

YYYY :
Courageously

"She is 50, and she believes she doesn’t break up..."

Anon, if your mother was in the middle of the day, then I have bad news for you – you had a fucking family. I work with women for 45-55 years. Many still look good. Some people don’t even get 40 for their appearance. There are those who go to fitness for four (!) in a week. There are those who are actively engaged in tourism - biddaroshniki, for example. There are those in the garden who smell with all their heart. Yes, they’re not twenty years old, but to say that they’re breaking up and their lives have come to sunset is hard even under a gun.

So it turned out that our small office is now working on a large project that takes 100% of the time. I did my part of the work and went on holiday for a week at sea. He returned burned. The rest worked, including the head of the office, and in this summer, where did they get the sun? Now when strangers come to us, they think the director is me.

There was a slide with my mother. So my uncle, according to beliefs (already 15 years old), only eats fish, eggs and milk from animal food, so such activities in his company are supplemented with baked fish, also a very delicious dish. Meat he denies and says that he can’t eat it, immediately urges.



So we sat down, we ate and drank, and a while later there was silence, everyone looked at the uncle, as he silently under the water, one after the other, consumed pieces of fat (without a layer of meat), and then issued:



(D) Such a delicious food, what kind of dish is this?

It is like a salad.

So... salad? Is it really salad?

Yes, it is a birthplace.

How can salad be so delicious?



This moment served us a great mood for the whole evening, and I think it will be remembered for a long time :)

My grandfather taught Russian and German throughout his life. He had a calligraphic handwriting, although on his right hand there were only 3 fingers (big, nameless and small).

What my grandfather frontovik I knew from early childhood. And the absence of two fingers on his hand he explained very simply: "Hitler bitten!" The details, of course, were heroic and colorful. “The war is over. The boys and I broke into the bunker to Hitler and shouted to him, “Hande, haha! “” He jumped on me! “I bite two fingers!” I faithfully believed it was like that!

And then on television (I was then 7-8 years old, and at the time the channel was only one) showed the film epic "Liberation". There was a story where Adolf Hitler first ate poison, then some officer shot him in a whisk, then Hitler's body was burned... But I knew exactly how it was! I knew it was an artistic fiction. And here is the seryoga stepanov (seryoga, if you read - greetings to you!) I did not share my opinion. I don’t remember the details of the fight, but how hard it was, I defended my beloved grandfather!

And only many years later, when my grandfather once again began to tell my son about Hitler, I was able to find out the truth. There was in his front life and the concentration camp "Zaksenhausen", there was a escape with comrades from this camp, there were also dogs released in the footsteps of fugitives... There was also love of life, faith in good people... and a terrible fear of dogs...

He witnessed the incident in the subway. The 10-12 year old had fun. He threw a glass bottle into a closing car. The bottle was broken, but no one was hit, fortunately, and there was nothing inside. The guy thought that the joke succeeded, and then he was skillfully caught by the police officer and dragged into the office room. He took his hand and asked me to go along with him. The force was applied after resisting the demands.

What started here! Crying, crying, crying and crying for help. He clung to everything he could for everyone who passed by. Then he applied another tactic: he started shouting that he had a weak heart and that he was ill. And it didn’t work on what came out of the screams that the policeman was suffocating him (hold your hand, ah). They shouted, “You have no right!”

To all this people fled and the mood was to help the boy, demands to let him go. Even when they learned about his offence, the reaction was rather "but he is still a child."

Children know their rights and are not ashamed to use them, but forget about the presence of duties. And the police after that appear as malicious guards in the eyes of some people.

I work as a taxi driver. A woman in her 40s was in the car, she said she went, cash-free, but one circumstance made me stop and look at the client (K) a little more closely.



Five minutes before that I called the client and the phone was taken by the man (M), who told me that they were already out.



I'm sorry to bother, but are you going alone?

K is Yes!

I – Where are we going with you?

It is written there, read it!

I – Let’s repeat it out loud.

Q. Who are you to tell you something, Gandalf? Your business is small - hold on to the driving, pedals throw.

I am a second, I need to call urgently.



Hello again, when are you going out?

M – We’re already coming down, don’t rush me, can’t you wait?

I’m here... Come down, you’ll see.



The man and the child went out, opened the door, saw the grandmother, closed the door, took the phone, compared the numbers, opened my door -



M – Who is this?

I don’t know, I want to take a taxi! At your expense.



At this time, the woman jumped out of the car and ran into the courtyard, simultaneously grabbing my booster (children's seat), which she threw out a couple of meters away.



M – What was it?

I am Exacerbation... I said and went to pick up a booster.

M. You have a hard job.

In principle, like everyone else, I’m just lucky with them.

XXX:from "Elena Malysheva" and "mental health" cannot be used in one sentence.

I look very Asian. My mother tongue is Russian. It has succeeded. I still freely master Persian proverbs. Recently, for example, I learned that I could communicate freely with the Khazars. This population lives in Afghanistan. It was quite explicit in Iran. For this reason, there were a lot of cascades. I will tell you one of them.



The case was in Dubai.

I go into the elevator. There are two Russian speakers with me. By the way they communicate, they are friends. Something is discussed. One notices in the hands of the other a box with a new perfume.

Have you bought Lea?

and ah.

The original?

and ah.

You are chasing. Heaven at these won (turns to my side) in the Chinese center bought.

The guy with the ghosts proves that it is original.

The Chinese shit. In the basement, where the thread in the bottles these saucers...- issued the expert, then held a pause turned to me, and looking in the eyes expecting a complete misunderstanding from my side, added

The truth is?

I do not know. I answered.

The expert said, and swallowed loudly. And then insecurely added, already referring to “you”

Do you think original?

Probably the most. I answered, I went still. In the corner, a guy with spirits quietly whispered.

> The cost of a very rare profession.

That is good. “If you want to become a champion, choose a rare sport,” said one of my acquaintances, a champion of Europe in the sport, very popular with the Chukchi and Eskimo.

At the entrance she meets a neighbor. The conversation begins, as things do, like children, and she says:

My daughter is getting the second grade.

How is? She just finished school for three years and entered the institute.

She was removed from the school; she was already studying in another school.

So we write down: in lovers to ride on someone else’s neck the expression "crack at work" actually means "not doing someone else’s work for free for our joy";

X: Did I tell you that you are boring?
yyy: 1382 times taking into account the taxable "dare" and "dare", as well as the verbal "dare". With regard to the phrase "nude" - 1566 times. Taking into account the listings, when instead of "needed" you type "dull" - 9621 times.

Vegan: Animals cannot be killed in any way. Even the "human"
Meat-eaters: They must be caught alive.

Nothing is as indicative of health problems as the insured number of the insurance policy.

By profession I am an architect. Often when designing cottages there is a talk about insulation of facades. All the employers are trying to convince me that insulation should be done from the inside of the premises. I prove, according to what I was taught, that on the outside, using a bunch of professional terms such as the depth of freezing, the point of rose, the bridge of cold, etc... After several attempts, I prove my right, but not with little blood and force of conviction.



Recently my cousin Vitalik approached me for advice on the same issue. I came with my wife. They were sitting and listening for a long time, Vitalik couldn’t say, “Why then all that?” and then his wife couldn’t stand (see, a smart woman, even noticed) and gave the following answer:



When it’s cold, do you swallow your jacket or wear it on top?

Marat: In the country he buried the mycelium of white truffle. And suddenly :)
Dmitry: Then you’ll have to buy a pig to look for.)
Marat: What to look for? I remember where I was buried. :D

So many good books and so little time, so many beautiful women and so little money.

A fun religion

“For every wise man, there is enough simplicity.”
A. The island

I was taken to work in the beautiful city of Baku.
At the same time, a Turkish college friend invited me to see you. He can be driven to Baku from his Istanbul, too, that I can go out for bread, in trains and shuttles.
We sit with my Turk in the car in the old town, we wait for the operator of all kinds of beauty to dream, we sit, we talk about religion. My friend has become a noble theologian, he is not about Islam, he even in Orthodoxy more than any rural father knows, despite the fact that he is a Turk. A scientist became, although in the institute and was a ballbess-ballbess, like me. and what is nice, Russian language, I did not forget, only the accent added.
I listen, therefore, to a lecture on world religions, listen and suddenly say:

"Sorry Sherhan, I'll interrupt you, by the way, I can argue that you don't know the one religion that the Russians have.
- My friend, there are no such religions and even sect in the territory of the former USSR that I would not know. If I start to list it all, we will die of hunger in this car.
So let’s bet you don’t know the most fun one. Whoever disputes, he pays at the restaurant.
- Great, I agree, but you must not just say that there is some fun religion, but that I may be convinced.
Look out the window and see a group of Russian tourists coming here.
I see and what?
They are they.
by Uffala-alla What will you prove?
"Look carefully, now, without reaching us, some of them will start together and in turn sit right here on the ground, while others will laugh and photograph them. Funny is religion.
What kind of nonsense do you say, my friend?
At that moment everything happened as I predicted. Sherhan fed my entire filming group for lunch and, of course, was eager for the details. And I, under a great secret, gave out the main spell of this religion.
Sherkhan, then still for a long time stood in the same place and opened his mouth and watched the Russians passing by, joyfully bowed right on the bridge and spoke the spell - "Fuck the hell..."