Xxx: The gamers came to anger to find out that...

YYY:...everything

A new challenge for 03.

Reason: He behaves strangely.

entered the private sector. Meeting a woman on the way home, she tells her husband that he had been drinking for a few days, and then...

In the house we see a messy sweaty man who turned the room - where the heating boiler stands, ripping off the boiler from the floor.

Doctor Man: What are you doing?

Man: Yes, there... there... there... I’ll remove the tubes, and all...

Man - looking at me - go help... I go into the room, explain to the man that the pipes are cooked, well, etc. Bring the man into the room. The man tells: the boiler was put by the neighbor - the lover of his wife. Well, I installed an ultrasound system there, which through heating batteries lets waves that penetrate the brain. So the wife and the lover want to bring him to the grave.

He gave the man a white A4 sheet from which he safely read several lines.

On the offer to go to the hospital, he replied, “Am I sick?” After a long conversation, he was connected.

Moving to the exit. The patient’s wife goes forward, turns out sharply, and literally pushing me back into the house, says – I won’t go there. The baron came out again. He does not love me. You go, he won’t touch you.

I go out, I don’t see a big barrel. Not seemingly aggressive. The colleagues with the sick go ahead, I go looking around, the barracks behind us. Before leaving the courtyard, I relaxed, turned around, and the cunning creature is already half a meter away from me running on the forehead! Have you ever been bitten by a bear? It turns out that pizz**c is painful. And then you smell the baron. And then he stands and looks harmlessly – as if he doesn’t understand what happened. This is Baron.

The man was taken to narcology.

The Naked King can only be in fairy tales.

The Naked People.

Drunk with a new girlfriend (known for a month) and dropped a large sum on lottery tickets. We agreed that whoever wins, we will divide the money in half. On the day of the draw, she learned that she won 8,000. I threw half of my friend on the card and wrote, say, hurra, we won! She did not answer. My boyfriend mocked that she dropped half of the winnings, it would be better to take something - she didn't even say "thank you." He told me we weren’t friends. Two days later, a friend came with a envelope — 23 thousand. He also won.

You should not be called into the army at the age of 18, but at 30. The competition will be 10 people per place, the problem of the evacuators will solve itself. This is a whole year will not be the boss, customers, wife, children, aunt, mortgage, repair... But there is fresh air, good company, you can ride a tank and shoot out of calash... And all on the hollow.)

Probably everyone has an episode from childhood that is not forgotten, and which still causes painful memories and regrets. It may have had a great influence for a lifetime. It is said that if you share it with someone who has had it, it will be easier. So let’s try.



When I was 9-10 years old, my parents bought me a set of flomasters. They just started selling them, and I crazyly dreamed of them. But I always had to be content with what was left of my older sister, or what was given by someone from relatives or acquaintances. I thought it was enough, and I didn’t even hope. Nobody forbids dreaming, right? And then suddenly I get a large set of flormasters. This was the first miracle.



And I started creating. I built my city for a whole year. There were more than two dozen families. I made them houses, furniture, pets. More precisely, they created all this for themselves, because each resident had a profession and had full-fledged commodity-money relations. I opened a thick notebook, where I set the salaries, prices for each category of goods. The entire economy of the city was developed for about a month. In short, it was a paper-carton resemblance of the current Sims. Everything was painted and cut out with great love in those moments when the sister was not at home, and the mother was either at work or slept off after the shift. Because my sister could ruin my unseen city. And Mom... Mom would always find what was not done at home. Well, in any case, I hid it from my dad. Little of something. In other words, I made out of everyone. The city was placed in a small cardboard box, which I pushed onto my shelf and wrapped with toys on top so that no one could see it.



At the same time, a second miracle happened. I was invited to my birthday with a classmate. It was unusual in itself. I never had a birthday in my life because I was lucky to be born three days after my parents’ wedding anniversary. Therefore, the celebration was annually. But not mine. There were guests. Friends of parents. And I was sitting with my older brother and sister in our shared little bedroom, where the children of the guests, older than I was, were brought and we were given the same plates with food. I still hate my birthday.



On that birthday, a second miracle happened. The parents of the classmates organized for us, invited children, competitions with prizes. Everyone got a gift. I got a big notebook. It was so beautiful, of a gentle blue color, decorated with beautiful shells on each page that I had been afraid to use it for a long time, just picked it up, kissed it and cleaned it back. But at some point the inspiration fell on me, and I, carefully pulling out the letters so that everything was beautiful, began to write in it a fairy tale about a girl who fell into the underwater kingdom, and her numerous adventures there. I wrote for a long time, and I also pulled out of everyone. The notebook was hidden in the same box as the city, because my sister liked to wool my boxes on an object that could hurt me even more and blackmail me.



The city has grown and flourished. Public institutions appeared, children were born and grew up. The lines of calculation between families were extended. The booklet was over, and the wonderful adventures of my heroine were coming to an end.



And one day I came back in a great mood from a walk, and next to the wall closet (oh, horror!) There was a bunch of my toys, ruthlessly thrown off the shelf. Mom arranged the general cleaning, and thoroughly taunted my dad so that he would put the order on my shelf. My hysteria, as always, did not end. All my few treasures, almost without looking, were dumbly divided into two parts and two-thirds flew into the rubbish pipeline. But, as I found out later, I was in vain. The box I didn’t even look into, my city, a notebook with laws, prices and bills, a magical notebook and a new set of flommasters flew into the rubbish pipeline first when I didn’t come. I don’t know if anything changed if my parents looked into that box. I doubt very much. After all, from their point of view, everything I did in my free time was nonsense and rubbish.



No more toys, no more things, I was attached. The city did not. I did not write stories. It was boring and fresh to live. But to be interested in something I have been afraid since then. So is easier. without a loss.



But people, I still don’t understand. How can you do this to children?

XX: They told me a story from my childhood. I was small, I don't know how old I was, my mother urgently needed a few minutes to go somewhere away. And she risked leaving me under the supervision of my older brother. She promptly instructed him, and, among other things, said, “Don’t give him an iris, otherwise he will die!” Probably decided to scare up with the stock. She returns, and – of course – he is on her doorstep with enthusiasm: “Mom, you imagine, I gave him Irisky – and he wasn’t dead!!!”

My husband and I spoke only in English on Wednesday. Any questions, any phrases should sound only in English, in no other language. We don’t talk on Wednesday.

I have a son. At the time of the events in this post, he was just under 3 years old and we were flying with him from England to Barcelona on that significant day to meet with his father. It is worth noting immediately that in England we live in a town where, according to official data, the least number of representatives of the Negroid race lives. That is, to see a black man here is almost unrealistic! And in general, except for the English and a few Europeans (which I know personally), representatives of other nationalities will not be met with fire during the day.



So, we sat in the plane with the child. In the next row with us was a man, looking 45 years old, whose skin color was blue-black. I have rarely seen such things in my whole life. My child began to look at our neighbors and, of course, his gaze couldn’t help but get stuck to such an “interesting” person.

Shortly thinking, the son asked me very loudly and very clearly: "MOM! Look how black it is! Mom, just look at it! Why is he so black? ! to “I lost the gift of speech for a moment. I, of course, understood that there was nothing shameful about the surprise of a 3-year-old child, but when that child cried, "Black! The Black! “You unwittingly start worrying that others will suspect you of racism. Gathered in spirit, I tried to hug my son a little, kicked him in the ear and began to murmur something unclear about the fact that he was born like that and he is a representative of another race. Ha-ha... like a child will understand what a race is... especially another))

At this point, the man, apparently suspecting my embarrassment, began a conversation with my son. Then, (M) is a man, (R) is a child.



M: Hi baby! How is it?

R is OK! He looks at him surprised.

Q: Are you interested in the color of my skin?

R: Yes, she is very black!

M: Have you ever seen that?

R is no. Only on TV, probably.

Do you know why she is so black?

R is no? ! to ? to ! to

M: Because I was born in Africa. This is a country where the sun shines brightly. We are hot there. And many people in Africa have black skin. The black color of the skin protects us from such bright sun. After all, if I had a skin color like yours, white, it would just burn in such a sun. It would also be black.

R:... looking carefully at his white skin.

M: When you go to Africa, be sure to apply sunscreen.

R: Yes, my mom always squeezes me. In Turkey, there is a masala. I am still white.

M: It is good! But even if you become black, you will still be beautiful. You are a wonderful child!



This dialogue ended safely. And I am still grateful to that man for such a wonderful approach to the matter. Since then, my child has seen black people repeatedly, but he miraculously remembered that the skin of this color was given to them to protect them from the African sun. And no racism!

xxx: And I recently, at the age of 34, saw a courier of the Russian Post. No, I knew they existed and tried several times to call them through the app, but it worked for the first time.

He was a dwarf. Well, at least somewhere 30cm lower than me, and I am 163cm.

Yyy: Apparently they had grown it for you all this time, and when it grew up enough to carry the package, the mail was finally able to send it to the task.

The roof rushed, the cow flew away.

Advice from an experienced driver

When I graduated from motor school 30 years ago and got my driver’s license, my uncle once asked me:
Do you know the traffic rules well?
I say :
Of course, I learned everything.
Then he says:
“Well, let’s say you’re driving on the street, and suddenly a pedestrian is appearing in front of you. What will you do?
I slow down, I found it right away.
You can’t, the speed is too high.
Then I will embrace him.
How will you go around it, from which side?
I begin to remember the points of the PDD, but I can’t remember anything and I understand that there is nothing said about it. Then I say:
If it is closer to the right side, then I will circle it to the left, and if it is to the left, then to the right.
But my uncle was also not a lick, and says:
He is right in the middle of the road!
Then I thought again and said:
“If he goes from left to right, I will circle him to the left, and if he goes right to the left, I will circle him to the right. It is the easiest way to break up with him.
But my uncle disagrees:
– And suddenly, when he suddenly sees a car driving on him, he gets scared and runs back? Right under the wheels.
Then I say:
It is dangerous to travel in the back, and even more dangerous in the front. Maybe go straight to him, let him save himself as we want, run somewhere, at least to the left, at least to the right.
The Uncle:
What if he suddenly falls into a stupor and stays still? This is where you will drown him.
I say :
What to do?
Finally, he gave the correct answer:
It depends on who the pedestrian is – a man, a woman or a child.
When you see a car approaching, the child always runs forward, where he went before. It should be driven from behind. And a woman usually runs backwards, so she has to run around in front.
And the man?
A man stops and looks at which direction the car will go in order to jump back in the opposite direction.

During the following years of driving I have been convinced many times of the validity and faithfulness of this rule.

by G. Bardakhchyan

Life must be lived so that your cowards are washed by the FSB officers.

What dirty things I didn’t do for money, like getting up at 6 a.m. to work.

We opened a vacancy in our department for a fairly rare IT specialization. We thought about implementing an ERP system and wanted to take a person with programming experience under this ERP. They could not close for a long time, but finally found a man. He passed all the interviews and was supposed to leave in two weeks.

Two weeks pass and he doesn’t come out. We begin to look for him. The household did not respond, there were no mobile phones at the time. Finally, through the security service, we find somewhere with relatives. It turns out that this Kent, going through an interview with the financial director, managed to borrow from her "before the first salary" $ 600 under the deposit of the passport. HZ, as he managed to verify it, she (fin. by Dir. ) was quite tough.

Well, here, the head of the department calls this developer.

“Ivan, this is X X from the company X. You should have come to work with us on Monday. When to wait for you?

The company X? Oh yes surely! You know, I changed my mind to work with you. You can’t count on me.

Why is?

"Well, I've been found with HIV here, so I thought, well, let him do this job.

You took the money under the guarantee of passport. When to bring?

Yes, of course! I will get the money in the next day! Keep your passport while you have it. well is?



The passport, according to rumors, remained in Finland for a long time. A deck in the safe as a reminder of the trial.

The President ordered to pay an allowance of 5 thousand rubles for children under 7 years of age, rightly assuming that children over 7 years of age can earn themselves, for example, by wiping the windows of cars at intersections.

A farmer in Russia.

Last year, oil processors, apparently conspiring, all as one gave for a seed of only 12 thousand.
For farmers, this is a loss, but there is nowhere to go, I had to sell - not salt it. Someone broke down, who survived - this year did not sow the seed. Plus the drought. Naturally a deficit.
It was all in the price of oil on the shelf.

The situation has come to you know who.
The Commander-in-Chief issued an order: the price should not rise!
The execution was appointed by those who "not noticed" the cartel conspiracy of merchants.

And now, as Zadornov said, get the air in your chest.
The decision was made to support merchants and processors with subsidies and preferential loans, and the prosecutor’s office will shrink the ugly farmers.

- What is the name of a person who climbs into different spheres of life and introduces all sorts of questionable innovations there? That, for example, will come up with the police police to rename, then change the time zones.
The diversity?

One summer in the country, my mom, with a very serious look, said to me, "How could you? I knew it all, I didn’t think you could do that! “I’m waiting for you to tell me something.

I got a point, I think about myself, well, all the fucking, floated, I'll get it now. And she continues, "Better tell it yourself, nothing will be the truth for you."

So stop, I think, if I really did something serious, she would already scream at me, and so she apparently doesn’t know anything. Of course, I hurt and did little stuff, but I didn’t want to admit anything.

Well, I say, "I don't know who or what you said, but I have nothing to confess, I did nothing." 10 minutes later we "played" the game "I know everything, admit it or it will be worse" and I replied "There was nothing, I did nothing."

Eventually, my mother gave up and said, “Okay, I checked you. “Your younger brother told me.” I don't remember exactly what he was telling there, but he didn't stand up and confessed in all his faults, which not everyone even knew.

About a couple of years later, my mom decided to repeat this fascination on me. I immediately said, “You didn’t do anything last time, or get trained on the younger.” She replied, “Hm, really, well okay.” The younger went for the second time. I put everything in spirit.

The guard says:

"At events, people often drag wine in a plastic container from under the gasoline.

If there is no more than a litre on the pot, we look through our fingers.

But the character who poured red wine into a bottle of sprite was pushed out with pleasure – idiots must suffer!”