Silence is easy to distinguish. They usually shrink with an echidic look.

Of greed and greed, or good returns.

Very long succeeded.



In addition to financial consulting and auditing, our small company carries out the affairs of other organizations and entrepreneurs. So one of them, a kind of, but in principle an adequate owner of "factories, factories, newspapers, steam ships", the accompanying direction of activity was the rental of premises, mainly in the center of our city. Barin himself (his calling between us) lives and has a business where he knows. He is in Moscow, then in Germany, then in Krasnodar... We have met him in the eyes twice, like peers, and despite the social gap between us, he always asks our director to resolve his affairs through me. Probably because, apart from the driver, I was the only man in the team. Let your lawyer come and decide that yes, he wrote a mandate on me, a stamp, well, and I am like a person who is unwilling, at the request of the director, I sometimes waver on his affairs.

So, because of this pandemic recently closed the branch of the bank, which for 10 years rented a room from the baron. The director somehow says, "Now Barin will call you back, decide his hoodies, then tell me what the gentlemen want." Barin elaborately explains the situation, said the branch is coming, all his needed to take out, you have to go to take the room, sign the act of reception-transmission, all the mess, which will suddenly remain in the room, throw out (organize), say I will then make a major repair, let nothing interfere.

I seemed to have gotten up, and even wanted to blast, but without transition, he appreciated my service and I was excited.

I come to place. In the almost empty room walks a beautiful manned lady, shows me that everything is cleaned, washed, but here is the bank-wrapped barrel left, which tomorrow morning the hired cargoers will come to load and take away. A baraklo is: A huge massive oval office table of three and a half meters, weighing probably half a tonne (it is old and heavy, for landfill), a huge split-system (mole broken, for landfill), iron shelves (they are old, in places dotted, also for landfill). Then he opens a small room and says, “This is a former server room. Our idols took everything they needed, there were some iron, wires, boxes, all the old and also everything to the garbage!" The lady extends to me a business card and money. This, he says, is the coordinates of the carriers and their payment for the export of the barrel, said Victor (it is Barin) said that you (it is me) will decide everything."

I am not in trouble, but I am not very removed from the ground. What would be the face not to lose such a type of carelessly asking: "And exactly everything on the trash, things are whole, and the server?" The lady looked at me from the top down (seems like an idiot) and said with a smile, "Take yourself if you need it all." I was covered up with flies, it was somehow uncomfortable, and it was uncomfortable to be in the status of a poor man in front of a woman (although a straw).

We signed the acceptance act and it was removed. Here I stand in the middle of the room and I understand that no matter how there is, the remaining "barrel" I do not need, but someone of my own will be useful, it is a pity for me to throw everything away.

I call my son (19 years old), he’s not a hacker, but he’s friends with someone there who understands the computer glands. He explained that there is a written server room that needs to be evaluated before the evening, and that he would like to take it for free until it was thrown out. Then I explained once again that the bank that comes together is a whole server “Yes, a server! How do I know what is there! Two glass cabinets, in them something like routers, boxes with holes, wires, hernia all kinds! All, I’m waiting!” 10 minutes later, 4 voltts were added to the server. They are standing, watching, silent, looking around. Then so cautiously, “What can you take?” and like hungry children look at me, with longing hope. Well, I almost burst from the importance and protective generosity that came upon me. I grew up 5 centimeters!

All of it!

All right, all right?! to

All of it! Just do not rush and be careful so that no one is running the current.

How my son looked at me. As in the second, after...

It should have been seen! It’s like twelve friends of Oushan live! As commanded by the FAS, smoothly, quickly, they resolve something, shout at each other, and like ants pull the hernia into the car.

The cabinet does not put them in the car. Daddy!! Can I take yours? It is no longer in our place!!! to

And again hungry eyes with hope, even prayer!

Please do not load my car!!! In the luggage compartment, if anything, you will take the roof on the roof of the house.

It’s like in a movie or cartoon about a cave with riches – you can see that they want to take everything and immediately, but nowhere, does not climb, bl... do not take everything! and must! I want to!

It was funny to watch their healthy greed, so sweaty, their eyes angry, or suddenly take away their toys! I humbly think, “Here are the fools! Naughty is all that!”

And to me, just gently on the soul, that the son has done a pleasant thing, maybe his authority a little raised, and maybe his authority in the eyes of friends too. Especially because I did not have to do anything specifically.

Everything was cleanly pulled out, in the car rumbled, approached, stood, mocked, said, well? Have we chased? Let’s go, I say. They shaken my hand, “Thank you! “Thank you very much!” the boy hugged.

How great it is to be generous! I was broken from feelings!

I remembered! And the table? And the split? The Stallions...

I call a class neighbor on the plot, he recently built a pavilion, a little less than a house. It looks like empty. I say, “There is a table, but it is huge and heavy. There are shelves, iron, office. If you have time to take out before the evening, take the tools and someone else, look for a car of the type Gazel cargo or larger and urgently at the address. I dropped the table picture.

After a second, he calls back and says, “Hold the table!!! Don’t call anyone anymore!! I am running!"We arrived in three with the test and Vitko, a useful alkas our local.

Pasha (the neighbor) saw the table, lay down on it with his hands spread out and whispered, "Oh, the crazy! Here you found your mother! The ONE! of mine!”

And again I stand, and indulgingly watch old men with glassy eyes from excitement, convulsively dismantle this monstrous capital, then the shelves. As if they were afraid, but no matter how they changed their mind, they did not take away.

And for me, just kindly on the soul, that the neighbor did a pleasant thing, maybe his authority raised a little. Especially because I did not have to do anything specifically.

They disassembled the table, loaded it, approached, shook my hand, “Thank you! “Thank you!” the neighbor hugged.

How great it is to be generous! I was broken from feelings! And I say so carelessly, “Pash, and you won’t take the split system? Looks unworkable, but you’ll see. Do you have a store with a warehouse on the outskirts?” and I point to Split. They were so excited with the test! “Thank you? “Take it off!” and they scattered the scatter.

It is funny to watch their healthy greed, as sweaty, angry eyes, or suddenly take away toys! I humbly think, “Here are the fools!”

In the morning, the carrier was not needed. Only a cleaner from his office brought for cleaning.

But! This is not the end of my story about healthy greed!

One day after three, the son approaches and says: "There Max's grandfather recently died, left them with their mom a house in the suburbs, which they want to sell later. There is something like a workshop there. So the grandfather, before leaving, asked the tool from the workshop not to sell or throw away, but to put it in "good skilled hands". Max said these glands are on the side, he doesn’t understand anything about them, and you’re like you’re mastering all the time, so you might see, you’ll take something, if you like it.”

I think, well, what can the old grandfather have valuable interesting? Yes, I also seemed to have everything in the set of tablespoons, but I went to see.

I go into an old but strong carpenter workshop and...

It is like in a cave sim-sim for the maniac of the carpenter-sleeper: ideally, by rank, as in the exhibition hangs on the walls hammer-mortar, pile-pile, pile-nappyles, tails-toporiki, knives-dolot-stameshki, keys by caliber, at the corners of the carpenters, encapsulations, presses, screws... In short, ALL-all that you can only want and come up with. I open the cabinets, and there are roadside, almost branded perforator, drill, screwdriver, disk saw, milling machine, rubber, love and again at the ranch of the drill, milling all kinds... I have a breath sperm, greed directly wrapped the mind, I understand that it is necessary to behave solidly and restrained, but I feel that I was confused.

All of it!

All right, all right?! to

I don’t need it, but you need it. Moreover, you all helped us with the components when you gave the server.

Now I felt all the feelings I laughed at when the obaltus and Pasha with the barrachlo test were taken out of the bank. I kept as hard as I could, but I was sure that from the outside I looked like a messy man who, with excited eyes, gathered wealth in the workshop and dragged it into the car like a ants. It is also good that Max and his son helped a little and went somewhere, or I was straight at them, somehow complexed. I collected tools and thought about myself: "Thank you grandfather, don't worry there, everything fell into reliable hands, everything will be useful in the business, I will be grateful to you for such a gift!"

I went to my grandfather's place three times, took out almost everything, and would have pulled everything out, but I have nowhere to go. Verstack, tiles, tables, cabinets have been taken away, he has his own workshop.

Now I liberated the wall and part of the garage, I hanged my grandfather’s wealth by his method, by the rank, by the order, as in the museum or at the exhibition. The tool and its own and gifted beautifully arranged. Soon I will call the neighbor Pasha with the test for a presentation, let the officers!

I wish everyone at least once in their lives to open their cave with the "wealths" that are valuable to you and collect them in full, until full satisfaction.

My mom told me to always pretend, because men try.

And my dad told me that you can’t try, women still pretend.

I had a classmate who didn’t like to read. Well, she read something, but rarely and reluctantly. School tasks on a liter also did through a pen-colloid, the set - the maximum read in a chrestomatia, compositions or written, or written on a scroll... But WIM read it entirely. I was suffering, thinking, but I read. The reason was that she wanted to know what Natasha and Lieutenant Rzhevsky actually had there. There are jokes, but I want to know where they came from. And here she read. And I realized that there was no lieutenant in the WIM. At the time, it was, in my opinion, the biggest break in her life :)

We go in with a colleague to the kitchen, warm up lunch, our accountant Ira sits at the table, she works, she knows how much, 7 years with us. I put on a cup of tea and I see that my friend is turning up his hands, feeling his face with horror. I ask – what are you doing? Does he say that my face is not shaken? No, I am saying. And then he points to Iru, and she carries some kind of caterpillar talking on the phone, not a word is understandable) A friend decided that he had a stroke. He did not understand a word from her speech) It turned out that Ira was a Moldovan, nobody knew this and her grandmother called and spoke to her in her native language)

She told tourists that in Cambodia, dollars are accepted everywhere. After a while, the bus driver called me because a scandal broke out in the souvenir store. The tourist rattles and throws on the sellers because they don’t want to take her money. She sees me and begins to cry that I have cheated on her. They are trying to pay for the euro.

I said they accept dollars, not euros.

But it is the same!

“Well, then I’m ready to exchange your euros for my dollars at one-to-one rates.

He refused and became even more angry.

The negative selection that lifts up the idiots, the shameless and the shameless is not a social lift, it is the only effective weapon of destruction of empires and kingdoms.

List of stories from yesterday and yesterday:
The story from the mouth of a familiar baking man, a very business man, who did nothing to make money, which he always managed.
He lived temporarily in the devastating 90s in Minsk and was engaged in business. There was a certain Syrian who was studying at a medical institute, who was wanted to be thrown out for money by bad people. This friend helped the Syrian to do this and returned all his money. We move to the present days, Germany, this baking man thanks to his Jewish wife lives in Germany and has his car house. He finds on the internet a suitable car 400 km from home, calls the owner and goes there with his son, for the race. Out of the traffic jams come only in the evening, and in the courtyard winter and cold. The car seller is waiting for them, the owner is definitely not a German, but a very solid doctor, as he said. They go into the garage to look at the car, here the owner looks very closely at the bacon, a few minutes in confusion and asks him about Minsk and the 90s. The Bakinets is the Syrian he helped then. In short, the doctor lowers the price of the car to dishonesty, covers the table at home and does not let guests go anywhere for the night.
Do good and it will return to you.

Without Putin, it would be worse.
We are getting worse and worse, worse and worse.
We have lived without Putin for a long time.

My husband is 15 years old, from school. There are no children, we live in the seventh, work is remote. Quarantine was not noticed almost, and so together 24 hours a day.

The toy that they were waiting for came out, played for 2 weeks without a break to work even) In the morning, the husband pushes in the side - get up, so that they won't kill themselves.

Everyone finds their half.



YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

I work in a bank with current loans.

Comes today a girl, on the question "what to help," answers that is waiting for her boyfriend, he asked her to go to the bank. Five minutes later, her boyfriend comes with flowers and tells her that on her birthday, he will close her loan. The amount was about 50,000 rubles. They sat down to me, wrote a statement, he paid the amount, and closed the loan.

There is no romance in our time.

I go on the route:

You know, Zoyka’s husband had gold. All my daughters bought apartments. When my granddaughter was born, I took a mortgage. As he paid the mortgage, so the repair made the apartment expensive and died later. This was gold, not a man.



I sit and think: the man all his life struggled with mortgages, repairs, and then died and did not live a niqab for himself.

In the fight against poverty, we must not destroy the poor.

The story of yesterday reminded me.

“Brow the good into the water.”

Epigram: “Guest in the house, joy in the house”

During the war, my grandfather served as a squadron in the 1st SISBR. Its full name: 1st Strike Engineer-Sapper Smolensk Red-Flag Order of Suvorov and Kutuzov Komsomol Brigade (who is interested in reading about such brigades, here is the link http://erazvitie.org/article/shturmovye_inzhnery). It follows from the name itself that the title was earned for the liberation of Smolensk. There, in the distant 1943, fierce battles were fought, and the losses among the assailants were enormous, because they were thrown into the very hell, but he was lucky. Years later, the few surviving brigade veterans even gathered in Smolensk for meetings. Grandfather also travelled several times, drank vodka, saw old faces of friends, and remembered things that he would like to forget.

Time runs, 25 years have passed after the liberation of Smolensk, grandfather quietly works as a teacher of mathematics in school and raises daughters. Although the family lives quite modestly in a very old, pre-revolutionary house, in a small two-bedroom apartment, he is quite happy with the fate. Suddenly, one beautiful evening, a noise in the hallway and a knock on the door. He opens, and he has 6-7 high school students and a couple of older boys on his doorstep.

He is astonished,
Who are you all?
They explain that they are young trailers (there was such a pioneer-komsomol movement in Soviet times).
What do you want from me?

He had such a moment in his biography. In 1943, for the liberation of Smolensk he was awarded a Grammy from the Central Committee of VKLSM. Healthy such a sheet, where it is quite pathetically written, how good it is. Gramota grandfather nafik was not needed, because the thing is uncomfortable, and where to put it, and what to do with it - it is unclear, because there is no place to store. Well, you can, of course, fold it and put it in a bag, but the product appearance it will then, obviously, lose. And considering that he is not a rear soldier, and with his squadron all the time on the front, in the snow, rain, and dirt, then surely from the beautiful paper will soon remain only scratches, how do not save it. As a result, he looked at her, twisted her hands, and left her at the brigade headquarters until the best times, because it would be safer. “The war will end, I will deal with it if I survive.“ I thought.

Soon I forgot about it entirely, because between the marches, passages on the mine fields, attacks, and wounds, there was something to do. The war ended in a completely different part, so the document did not have to take. Surprisingly, when the brigade was disbanded, the literature was not thrown out, and in some way it was transferred to the Smolensk Regional Museum, where it was displayed as an exhibition. My grandfather did not even know about it.

These young trailers found the literature in the museum, and... decided to find the grandfather. How they found out the address, I have no idea. But a whole group, having set up bicycles, left Smolensk, the benefit of riding is not very much, 150-180 kilometers. We drove, we drove, and then, in the evening, we fell in with unexpected guests.

My grandfather and grandmother were not rich people, but very salted. Clearly, they were not ready for such a visit, and the time later, the shops are closed, but the village hardening is strong. To refuse a guest, even uninvited, is shame and shame. Therefore, the grandmother, having abandoned all affairs, prepared a delicious dinner for everyone, eating all the supplies that were at home. And while she spelled over food in the kitchen, the grandfather entertained the guests with all sorts of military stories. My aunt, who was then a junior high school student, of course, this event was delayed in memory.

I do not know where these brave trailers expected to spend the night, but, of course, grandfather and grandmother did not put them anywhere for the night looking, all somehow dismantled, giving all the blankets, blankets, carpets, and pillows. In the morning, my grandmother made sandwiches. A funny incident happened, but soon forgot about it.

A dozen years later, my aunt graduated from the medical institute in Leningrad, and here she, like all the young specialists, should get the distribution. Many of her friends went to some deaf villages in Karelia, and she appears to be the same. She, over the years of her studies, became accustomed to Leningrad, and, obviously, did not want to go anywhere, especially to the hell. But distribution is distribution, you won’t argue here. Grandfather and grandmother are not very happy with the upcoming schedule, but "if the Motherland said it was necessary, the people will answer to eat."

And here in the distribution commission is one important uncle. He himself is not much older than her, but the weight there is considerable. Commander of Komsomol. She looks at her papers, notices her name, pays attention to her paternity. He seems to remember something.
Is your father like that? He asks.
Yes, he is answering.
Are you from City N?
is also true.

It turns out, this guy was one of those Komsomol-trackers, who many years ago visited my grandfather and grandmother. He did not forget the good reception, and remembered the girl who listened enthusiastically to her father's stories. Should I say that with the distribution everything went as well as she wanted.

This is actually all. Throw the good into the water and it will return to you.

The pandemic became similar to the career of Alla Pugacheva. It doesn’t end, but it’s all over.

I sit at the reception in the hotel in the morning. I was approached by a drunk tourist who arrived two days earlier. And he begins to tell that immediately after the arrival went to the prostitutes, spent with them for two days, in the end they stole from him $ 500 and a phone. Here I begin to be stressed in the expectation that I will be asked to find all the lost, because for the tourist the representative of the tour company is something of the middle between a personal slave and a wizard. The tourist, looking at me, reassures me:

I am not in complaint. I was drunk and it was worth it. You just call my wife to arrange, I need to tell her that it went well!

I explain how you can call the receptionist and he goes to the room for money. He returns and claims that the money was stolen. He recounted them literally before meeting me, put them in the safe, half an hour passed and now there is no money. I suggest calling the police, but I warn in advance that since a man is drunk at nine in the morning, the police are unlikely to do anything. But he so confidently says that the money was there, and I was so scammed that I was not sent to look for the phone from the prostitutes that I went to talk to the hotel manager. The manager was even more skeptical than I was about the situation, but invited the head of the guard. The head of the guard came and, seeing the tourist, almost died of laughter. On his phone he showed us a series of photos of an absolutely naked tourist sleeping under the door of his room. As it turned out, the clothes with the keys to the room were also left with the prostitutes! Then we went to see the safe from which the money was missing. The security guard and the manager entered, and I saw from the threshold that the room was crushed: the curtains were broken, the TV rolled on the floor, the sailors were all in dark spots, and did not enter there. An angry manager comes out and asks me to go into the room and leads me to the bathroom. Everything is shit there! I’ve never seen so much shit! And in the middle of the damned bathroom lies a pack of money! The happy tourist gets the money, recount, rejoices that everything is in place, pulls out a few bills and offers us all for tea! They say that money does not smell.

In ancient times, in the year 2004 I found a point of sale of red brick in the MO at a price twice as high as in the Orlovsk region. He carried a brick on the "border" KAMAZE, and loaded it not with paddles, but folded it into the body manually. From the wagonets on the KAMAZ 5 loaders of the beautiful floor loaded me 5000 bricks in 2 hours. Break for lunch with a bottle of vodka.

I came to the facility (concrete, village of Jedochi), the workers tell me:

Take a selfie!

Are you crazy? Then we will only bury the hole on the road!

It’s not me, he said.

I raised the body and 12 Moldovans loaded the brick for 6 hours! I even fell asleep on the way back. The workers asked how much I was loaded?

Five women in two hours.

About the break for vodka did not talk, the men were as silent as they heard.

I don’t know what the prorab told them, but the next flights were unloaded in two hours, the same twelve people.

2.4 Moldovan men against one Orlov woman! Here is gender equality.

Commentary on VK Football Group:



I am a long-distance driver. Football is rarely seen. There is no sex for months. I recently went on a tour and wanted to relax. He stopped, and an experienced "worker" was in the car. She has been a prostitute since she was 16. From the long-haul driver and flew.

While she was making me shake, I climbed in that group and watched the news about the transfers. She saw it and said, “You don’t have to pay for services today.” I was surprised and asked why. She replied, "I am grateful that you have signed this publication, because the administrator of this group is my son."

and Vietnam. I meet in the hotel tourists who leave after a two-week vacation:

How did you rest?

The tour operator was fooled.

How is?

I said there is a sea.

The hotel is right on the beach!

What is it in yours?

This is not a sea, it is a sea! We didn’t go swimming here. You can see another shore at night.

You can see the lights of fishing boats at night.)

Xxx: The case was in Moscow somewhere in 2000. My memory of work took me to the area between Timiryazevskaya and Water Stadium. A dormitory area with old five-story floors. It was not there for a long time, it could have been renovated.

It took me, meaning a sharp stomach. So open up in the middle of the yard. Well, in the first, it is not cultural, in the second, in the courtyard at noon around a bunch of people, and there is no hygiene with you. I think we need to move for as long as the situation allows, and then we will see. Quarter, two, three,... and here on the side of the department, then the police. Fuck him, whatever it is. I go to the train with open eyes.

Can you go to the toilet? There is no urine at all.

The look of the officer at this time is invaluable. He could only knock his finger on the right door.

As the process came to an end, the thought dimmed: will they not accept me now, for confidence and overgrowth? No is. Comfortably went out. I washed my hands in the dishwasher. I thanked the officer. There was a monkey there. Those who lived there at the time accompanied me with open mouths.



Yyy: What is that? A policeman is also a man. It’s not always good, but it’s not Nibiru’s donkey. In addition, the officer prevented a possible offence.



Zzz: And could wait for the offence and the penalty fucking. Increase the disclosure.