A call from an unknown number. I take. The male voice in the tube: "The boss is dead", and immediately goes to some work issues. I suddenly wake up, trying to catch out which boss is talking about. I ask.

It turned out that he had such a name - Died.

There was a foolish seller in the box.

He always made a plan. The management decided to look at his work.

In the morning, he comes to the office, opens the telephone directory at the place where he stopped the day before and tumblingly calls the list:

Do you need tubes? No is? Sorry I am sorry.

Just like a machine.

He listened and then asked:

Have you tried to change something?

What for example?

For example, ask, “What about your acquaintance?”

– Oh! It is an idea! The manager said.

The following month it doubled sales.

What is a good discussion about nothing? There is no need to summarize at the end.

The real story.
This happened in the metro of the "cultural capital" ten or fifteen years ago.
Whether she noticed a group of Roma descending on the escalator in the subway, or if she complained of passengers, but she took a microphone and announced: "At the station a Roma camp, be careful." Nothing unusual at all. Simple human care for passengers.

The Gypsies disappeared. They are not in the first. But there was a fighter for rights, one of those who pray, the forehead is broken, who learned about it and went to complain to everyone in a row: the press, the management of the metro, except that he didn't have time to get to the sportlot. To say, racism, humiliation of human dignity on a national basis, etc., with all the stops. The management of the metro responded that it conducted an investigation, resolved. Yes, such a case had occurred. There was nothing offensive or degrading in the announcement. Moreover, it urged citizens to be careful and sensitive, so that the passengers do not unintentionally break the subtle mental balance of the representatives of the people who suffered from the tsarist and Soviet regimes, and still suffer from the future, shamelessly left without supervision things or unconsciously displayed jewelry of yellow metal. Well, if human rights activists think that calling a person a Roma is the same as calling him a thief and a fraudster... So sorry, this is just racism.

Sorry, sorry, there was no such thing, the pen itself wrote as it should be, if in the place of the leader a decent and courageous man. But unfortunately, in reality, everything is as usual: than advocating for your honest employee, it is easier to go to the cause of the throatmen and not to hit your head with such little things. The guard was deprived of the prize, it was that an explanatory work on respect for minorities was carried out.
Unfortunately, such a harsh prose of life.

However, thankful passengers... No, not passengers, of course, simply, whether on the forum, or in the subway enthusiasts community, when discussing this story, someone whispered that it would be good to compensate for the loss of the prize... Word for word, and they collected money, managed to find that duty and pass.
It was enough for the bouquet.
It is a bull.

What kind of cocktail is this?
This is the coconut urine.
The coconut doesn’t feel at all.

When I was five or six years old, I first watched the movie "Bloody Sports".

One day, his father recorded this film, giving his friend, uncle Vite, an old cassette.

It was only after Van Damme and Bolo Yen went out to the match to fight in the final fight that there was a film interference and 3 healthy Negritos roasted a German on the couch. I wondered what these actors were, why they weren’t in the movie before. 😄😄 😄

This was my first #DasiFantastic#

Then my father and friends watched this tape under a beer. The father told his friends that it was his son’s favorite tape, but when the last battle began, I ran into my room ashamed and soon heard a loud roar from his company.

I remembered this story when I heard the memories of the cake for classmates, which Sasha Gudkov told in the story show "Bleef". So in my post-Soviet childhood there were not many cookeries, and in those that were, the sales leaders were baked, sugar tongues and cake "Cartoshka". Therefore, we went to school tea drinks with home cakes. I won't say that my mom was a genius cook, but she only got one kind of baking cake from the sweet. By the third class, the uniformity in the form of these very pancakes was tired. So my mom decided to cook cake for my classmates.



I will remind you that the action takes place in the early 90s, my mother is not a cook at all, the recipes to get was difficult, and YouTube, with a lot of chefs, did not exist yet. In short, they survived as they could. I don’t know what a miracle, but my mom managed to get a recipe for the cake. A culinary masterpiece was done until late at night, because it was necessary to bring it to the class already in the morning. My mom managed to cook cakes, lubricate everything with a deficient condensate, cut the cake in the shape of a brick. The masterpiece was ready. The last action in the recipe was to cool the cake in the refrigerator for 8-12 hours. It's me now, thanks to the chefs from YouTube, I realize that this way the shells were impregnated, and then this recommendation sounded strange. My mom thought the cake should be cold. Well, plus fatigue after work / cooking, in short, realizing that before leaving school only 5 hours, my mom decided to put the cake in the freezer and get it in the morning to cool off.



The refrigerator was good. The freezer was working properly. I am grateful to my mom for repairing the refrigerator. Within 5 hours the cake turned into a strong frozen brick. Cutting it was impossible, waiting for it to melt, too, was not possible. After breathing in, the mother sent the cake to the regular chamber of the refrigerator, said that the hell of such experiments and went to call the kitchen where her friend worked. In front of the school we went to pick up a paddle of cake. I told everyone that my mom did it, but the kitchen in the area was one and everyone knew that my mom was a bookkeeper, so they understood where the cakes came from. Although no one said anything. In the evening, we decided to try the cake. Mom pulled him out and he finally dissolved. For me, this is the most delicious cake. After all, he was the only one my mother prepared for my whole childhood. Taboo experiments in the kitchen mother removed only with the appearance of the grandson. Recently, they even baked pizza together and fed me with it.

There was a student with me in the group. At each session he always had a terrible crash, tails 5-6. Since the group was very friendly with us, we all tried to help him: we wrote labs, helped on all deliveries.

I once asked him why it happened, because he can do without a tail.

He replied, "You understand when I have a crash, a bunch of hassle and trouble, the countdown is silent... When I run and close my tails at the very last moment I feel the taste of life. Its fullness.”

The Altai Territory. Festival of Songs of the Author Powaliha-94. The festival was held on the lawn of the pine forest, near the abandoned pioneer camp. There was a small stage on the lawn, a place for spectators in front of it, and around, in picturesque chaos, tents were located. The toilet was only "J", he was in the forest away, and a path led to him. So, walking in search of a fire dryer, my friends and I found a broken statue of a gips pioneer. The statue had no legs below the ankle, hands and head. The sun was already sinking, and in the beginning of darkness the white statue looked terrible. We didn’t think of anything better than pulling her off to the woman’s toilet trail. Thro the night there were periodic whispers on that side and the noise of breaking branches was heard.

As a police officer, we were often sent to help doctors. Mostly these were cases of hospitalization of drunk bullies, suicides and other everyday PNDs.



This time we also went to the ambulance. The patient is a middle-aged man, not bold, just absolutely unwilling to go anywhere with people in white coats. And here is the lady of the fieldsher, tired of conspiracies, kicks us, say your turn to conspire. The man, seeing this, begins to scream: "Don't approach, I have an open form of tuberculosis, I will start to care about you now!" I turn to the doctor and ask, “Isn’t this dangerous?“The doctor honestly says, ‘No, of course, it’s not dangerous,’ he gets out of his pocket and puts on a medical mask.



We persuaded the man to go to the hospital. I have become less confident with doctors.

It is good to be a master! All things are afraid of you. All things are hidden, and you rest for your pleasure.

A group of Chinese tourists during a tour of the Red Square found the body of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin on the lawn and brought it to the Mausoleum.
In fact, on the lawn next to GUM was not Lenin, but the Moscovite Alexander Karlyšev, who earns money by photographing with tourists in the image of the leader of the world proletariat. Externally, he is very similar to Ilyich, and his suit and tie are tailored to Lenin's pattern taken from the photographs. After drinking a little with Stalin's double, Alexander went to rest, but then the Chinese noticed him. They decided that the perpetrators had kidnapped and thrown Lenin’s body, lifted it up and carried it with respect to the Mausoleum.
Employees of the Kremlin Command, who guard the Mausoleum, were extremely surprised when two dozen Chinese began to knock on the door of the graveyard. They were even more surprised to see what tourists were trying to bring into the mausoleum vestibule.
“I even sent a fighter to see if our Vladimir Ilyich was in place, so much his twin was similar. Then I tried to explain to the Chinese that this Lenin is not ours, but they did not understand Russian, and I do not speak Chinese. For half an hour, he tried to explain with them, then shrugged his hand and took Lenin under his responsibility," the commander told reporters.
Carlysheva was not given to the Chinese to enter the mourning hall of the Mausoleum. They laid him on the floor of the vestibule and, lowly worshiping the body, left. Waiting a few minutes, the officers put Lenin slightly trembling outside.

Men have only one thing in mind – not to extinct humanity.

The seller is pleased:

My router is not working at all.

Included in the router?

I am stupid, but not so much. No, so much...

Short hips

It was at the beginning of zero. My friend was going to the army, and my friends and I took off the table in some extremely "evil" establishment. Those who lived in the provincial town fifteen years ago understand what I mean.

Well, here, the wires at the very height of the air I went out to smoke. I stand, I do not touch anyone suddenly comes out of the cafe very drunk, looking for adventure, marginalized and begins to wonder why I am so daring and if I will have little things. I am in shock, silent, trying not to pay attention. Even more interesting. From the door of the cage comes out the second, but exactly the same margin and suddenly begins to protect me - that you clinged to it and so on. The first quickly interrupted the dialogue by writing to my defender from his right hand into his left ear. Well, and now the picture with oil - I have in my legs in dust and dirt fighting in the party two people I do not know at all, and I smoke a cigarette, throw it into the urn, and I go on to accompany the future soldier.

In the summer after 6th grade, my parents sent me to a sanatorium in Evpatoria. There was not much entertainment. Mostly disco in the evening and football in the afternoon. And one day the leaders arranged for us a game of "what, where, when". The questions were simple. One of them sounded like, “In which word five O? “” The answer was apparently “Again,” but I immediately raised my hand and said, “Bronchopulmonology.” The leaders squeezed a little and began to ask where such knowledge came from.



My father was a doctor, and in my room there was a closet with professional literature. And the book with such a terrible title was just on the eye level. And before going to bed, I often played a game, making small words out of that. And just noted that in the word "Bronchopulmonology" 5 letters O. And I had the opportunity to surprise everyone with intellectual abilities.



P.S. True answer to the following question I safely broke, because I heard the clue incorrectly, and replied that in the north the deer do not eat moose, but flies. I was no longer taken into the team.

Even when a woman doesn’t want anything, it’s clear: she wants something, but she can’t formulate it yet.

In a familiar office, serious positions are recruited from all over the globe, so candidates are met at the airport, taken to a hotel, then for an interview, etc. Ordinary car with driver from a transport company. The nuance is that the driver actually works in the staffing department of the office, which helps to filter out too much of them even before a serious interview.

According to iv_an_ru.

Many have already forgotten that Sergei Semjonovich Sobyanin, as a true Russian patriot, removed the English letter "M" at the entrances of the subway and hanged our Russian "M". Just 2 billion.

I was invited to the vacancy of the assistant commercial director, for 3 hours a day, in the vacancy nothing special, - business, knowledge of PC, etc., and then I just finished the secretary courses and entered the universe, work is needed, I was 19 years old, of course, came to an interview. A mansion in the center of Moscow, wow, carpets, gold, crystal lustres. I was invited to the office, around the elegant cutting furniture, the fireplace, I stand and look... A man of 30 years goes in, about 30. In the 1990s, wealthy people dressed out loud, he looked like an Italian mafia. I said that he was looking for an assistant - a mistress, for 3 hours a day... I immediately said that I was not happy, turned, wanted to leave, and he stood up and closed the door. Here my wild panic began, I catch the ash, I run into the window, the thunder, the glasses were filled, the man whitened, grabbed me for the hand, - we run, fucking, this is not my office!!!)))