At the previous referendum, the majority voted for the USSR, after which it was liquidated together with the constitution.

Freedom of Speech in American. not my own.

Very interesting story. and indicative. A New York-based teacher, Deborah Morse-Canningham, spoke on her FB page about what privileges are. “Privileges are when you wear shoes for $200 without working anywhere in your life. Or when living on a benefit, you buy Beats headphones for $300. When you don’t pay for mobile, when in social housing you don’t have to pay for water and electricity, when rising taxes don’t affect the amount of food on your family’s table. “Privileges are when you go to protest against everything you don’t like, without thinking about having to take a break at work, when you can have as many children as you want, regardless of income, just sending them to a free kindergarten.”

It was a general, unfathomable reasoning. In this text, the words “negroes”, “African Americans” and “black” were never heard. What do you think she was accused of? I guess it was racism, of course. Those whose lives matter immediately recognized themselves in this group portrait. And very offended. They don't know the Russian proverb - it's not necessary to pen on the mirror, when the birth is wrong.

And immediately a non-reverse punitive mechanism was launched. Deborah is still a teacher, but it seems to be a short time. There is already a petition demanding her dismissal – ten thousand signatures.

The mayor of New York City, De Blasio, is personally and deeply outraged by such overwhelming racism and has given a team to conduct an internal investigation. I wonder what will be investigated? Will they study her entire internet history under a microscope? They will go into her genealogy – and suddenly there is someone from the Ku Klux Klan or from the Communists. That is to say, another demonstrative, educational public mess is being prepared. And the personal fate of the clever, remarkable teacher Deborah Morse-Canningham does not care anyone. In modern America, there is no force that could protect it. There are no such lawyers accused. Remember the Chinese Hunweibins.

He gave up his seat to his grandmother in the bus, and she said, “Al one pidaras gave up...”

Looking for a recipe on the Internet

It is just PPC.

Dinner in 15 minutes:

Cook the meat for 12 hours.

Soak the beans at night.

Grow ananas on the window.

At the beginning of the 2000s, his parents were engaged in the sale of vegetables and daily traveled to the neighboring Kazan. I was taken care of by Grandpa and Grandpa. I was their first granddaughter and all the grooming knots were filled with me.

My grandmother worked as a cook in the school dining room, and my grandfather was there next to the cottage. There was nowhere to give me, so I was mistaken either with my grandmother, wrapping meat and soups with schoolchildren, or my grandfather, where I turned into a master's coal business.

One day my grandfather got sick and I was at home with him. He was lying on the couch and I was playing next to him. A brilliant idea came into my head to help my grandfather recover, I approached and asked him if I could inject him? Without thinking backwards, he agreed... How did he know that in a second I confidently put a water-filled syringe into his hip... That day I first heard the obscene expressions:) I was not punished, because I first asked for permission, and even more so nobody understood how among my toys this syringe was...

My grandfather is 70 years old today. I called him to congratulate him that he was seriously ill. And 20 years later I heard in the cellphone, "Nunny, come, fly me, make an injection..."

Yesterday I sat in a cafe, drank coffee and became an unwilling listener to the conversation of two young girls sitting behind me.

I went to the solarium yesterday. So I go like this, I say I was recorded for 12 hours, I was spent, I split up and lie quietly, sunburn. Suddenly, I hear someone open the door, and then with such a wicked voice - now I'll burn you!

D2 to God. You are what? And what are you?

D1: Well, what, I jumped out, and there my husband stands! It turns out he was there to work as a massager and decided to beat me...

You have a husband and a joke.

D1- and don't tell me, I was just in shock, all on emotions!

Then they silenced for a moment and suddenly her girlfriend spoke.

Are you sure he knew who was burning there?

Full zero likes to depict itself as zero.

It was a story about Krasnoyarsk Shmas (school of junior aviation specialists).
The army is different for everyone. Someone with the machine is sleeping, and someone has not seen him in the eyes. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t serve.
I always honestly say that for the entire service 3 ammunition on the oath released (24 points by the way knocked out) and this familiarity with the gun ended. And actually the service in the second year of service began (before that they studied and were on the grasp). And there were no grandparents (as if some people didn’t like it).

And the serious attitude to the service began with one single phrase.
Introduction to the specialty (automatic peeling operator).
Commander of the company, Captain Pechkovsky:
You are not destined to die by the enemy’s bullet.
Oh wow!! to
and pause.
You will not regret the missile.
It was like the curtain fell. There is before and after.

The fool comes to the wise man:
Why is it said that a woman should be married to a virgin?
The wise man placed two candies, spread out and in a beautiful fantasy.
Which will you choose?
Of course turned out.
...??? to
The Fool:
Well, you can see that there is candy, and there can be cocoa.
The wise man:
Go on. I ruined that parable.

I remember swimming in a waterfall in Thailand. Under the waterfall is a pond in which you can ride from the top. Run and have fun! And in this pond live harra ruffa fish (these are the ones that usually peel in the aquarium), only the size of a good seed. Water is not transparent. And when I became in the water some unknown shit to eat - to God, I learned to walk on the water. I run on the water, I remember that the guide warned about fish, and I can't learn to run on the water:))

Sometimes from the window of the apartment (Chelyabinsk) watched as at the hour of the night a speck walked through the courtyard, a boy came out of there and tried to open the cars with some speck.

I immediately called the police and explained that the cars were opening up. They said we are going!

I watched him for another 20 minutes, he didn’t get anything, and after 40 minutes he left.

And two hours later, when I had been asleep for a long time, the district officer called and first asked, "Well you control the situation? “We don’t have a car.”

I cried out, said that I did not control and continue to sleep.

The case was in 2019.

A worker fell from the 9th floor. He lies without breathing. Do you act as a master?

Yyy: Wear a casket on the body

Zzz: and the assembly belt that is pre-rupted)

Aaa: And in the mouth of the corpse drip vodka

Bbb: Nihua you here masters gathered

My first love covered me in 1991, when I was 15. I was a shy teenager, interested in volleyball, listening to music, walking with friends — generally like the majority of teenagers at the time. I was not distracted by female attention. A long, loophole, foolish hairstyle with which he tried to hide his defect. The classmates caused only laughter and ridicule. Sometimes I wondered, how can I find a couple who needs it?

In the summer of 1991, the exams were passed, before traveling to the village for the holidays, my father arranged to work for the factory. Before the weekend I heard in the conversation of my parents that my mother’s friend, whom she met in the sanatorium, came to visit. A girlfriend from Moldova, my mom’s mate, seems to be with my daughter, my one. Come here, what’s the difference? We lived in a family dormitory, there were two rooms. Saturday, I sit at home and watch TV. I hear some noise, laughter, greetings in the common hallway. I knew guests were coming. The door opens, my mom’s friend enters, greeting me. Her daughter follows her. and all. The world around me ceased to exist. She said “Hello. I felt like I had lost the gift of speech. I remember kidding. They stayed with us for a few hours and went to my mom's sister for a night's dinner, as if we had no room in the shelter. When they got out, I didn’t know what to do. I was so empty in the shower that I wanted to wash. This girl was always in front of me. I understood that she was from another republic, that she lived 500 kilometers from me, that she spoke another language, and that she could have so many friends and boys, that I had nothing to catch with a “bite” cow-early teenager. With cautious hints, I learned that the guests will come again tomorrow. All night I thought about how to conspire, how to communicate, and so on. Obviously, when they arrived the next day, I was only enough to sit at my desk in another room and listen to music. During the whole time I broke a couple of words (red and covered with steam) and watched a cable film together in the evening. It was as if I was sitting almost a few meters away, and she didn’t look at me, and I was even afraid to look at her. In the evening, the guests left. and all. These two days changed my life forever. I thought of her every day, almost constantly. I remembered these two short meetings, a million times I imagined saying something, doing something. To be clearer, I’ve been thinking about this girl every day for 3 years. I graduated from school 9th grade, entered the school, I was lighted by the army (there was no clear thing to crack in my mind). I knew I would never see someone I loved so much again. I thought to myself: What do I love? Over the years, I have lost the face of a girl. Only bright moments remained: hairstyles, jeans - bananas, barefoot (light sandals), thin, low, eyes, lips. Before the army a year worked in the factory, there was full of young girls, in each searched for her traits. I reassured myself that if I found someone close to her, I could love her. If it can be called so.

And now I remember January 20, 1994, I sit at home, late in the evening, listen to the monsoon, some collection from a friend took. And there was the song of Vadim Kazachenko “Letter”. And I get through the thought: to write a letter. To write to a former federal republic that became independent, to write a letter to a girl who no longer even remembers our meeting. The plan was grand. The first feeling was shame. What do my parents and friends think of me? But in a few months I go to the army, and I get rid of everything. I find out from my mother’s address and knowing that her birthday is February 3, I buy a greeting card, come up with a congratulatory poem and seal it in the envelope sent. Obviously, at the time there was no report on delivery, and it is unlikely that someone in another state would have delivered with notification. And at the end of March I was ripe to write a letter with an explanation in love. I wrote it three or four times, broke it and wrote it again. I sent. It was easy in the soul. If I don’t get an answer, I’ll reassure myself that at least I’ve tried to do something. I understood that there was a one-on-a-million chance that my letter would reach, that the girl would read it, remember me, respond with mutuality, and what next? I go to the army in a month, what is the chance that something can be positive in my situation?

In general, on May 30, he went to the army, quarantine, all affairs, oath, was released for a day home. I have a lot of friends at home and everyone is happy to see me. And here, like a bowl of cold water behind the shovel, here is a letter from Moldova. My hands really trembled when I opened it. A letter from a girl I have thought of every day for the last 3 years. The content was not very joyful. Yes, she remembers me, was surprised by the birthday greeting card, very surprised that it caused such feelings in me. On my suggestion to correspond - I agree, on request to send a photo - maybe later, now there is no suitable. and all. But for me it was something. I was on Everest with happiness. I remember my mother asking, “What kind of letter is this, who is writing it to you?” I am writing with your girlfriend’s daughter. She was very surprised by this situation. In response, I asked to write to my home address. I didn’t want my letters to be opened in parts and read by others. In the third letter, she sent me her photo. 10x15, almost in full height, the features of the face lubricated by a low-quality print from a color film. From the photo, a little smiling, a girl looked at me, who took my peace and my heart. The hair is different, the look is different. But I did not care. I looked “to the hole” in this photo, trying to remember it. For the New Year, I wrote for dismissal home. I really wanted her to come visit. Her mother was so surprised that we began to rewrite. But she agreed to come with her for the New Year to me in the city. And here I am in dismissal, we with the whole family go to visit my mom’s sister, where guests from Moldova are already waiting for me. I go into the apartment, everyone joyfully greet each other, I go into the room, she stands by the window, smiles, I approach, stretch out my hand and say: hello, I am Dmitry. She smiles, holds my hand and answers: Natalia. We talked all night, we drove with our families in a large empty bus to our home (already in a new 3-bedroom apartment, which we received immediately after the breakup of the Union) and met the New Year together. I was the happiest person on earth. In my soul I was glad that next to me was a man from whom I felt well and calm in my soul, even simply from her presence. The next day I had to go back to the part in the evening, the girl with her mother to go home. I even remember pushing the last cross-city road to Odessa, which could not drive because of the unexpected snowfall. Everything went well, they got on their evening train, and I got to my part.

Further, the gray soldier's days flowed again, painted with letters from a beloved girlfriend. In February 1996 I was given a 20 day leave. I decided to go to Moldova for a girl’s birthday. My mother looked at me with such eyes that I realized I would be cut out of the will. From the vacation money was bought a ticket for the train (well in those years went the train Odessa - Ivano-Frankivsk, which passed through Moldova and the station, which was a kilometer from the city where my girlfriend lived. I could already afford to write "my girlfriend," although in the letters we had pretty friendly relationships. In general, I bought in Odessa a bouquet of roses (February month like no) I packed it so that I could bring it, my aunt, who lives in Odessa and at the time traded on 7 kilometers for cheap (35 dollars) sold me an elegant black dress with the size of "let fit, I tell you." In general, I’m all like that in a custom-sized shirt, with a bouquet of roses, with a dress and a huge box of cosmetics as a gift, with Polaroid with 3 cassettes (who doesn’t know, the one that the photos go out immediately ready) on a birthday in another country, with strangers who almost always speak in an incomprehensible language, who confusedly ask: who it is and what it is doing here. The explanations caused even more confusion. In general, on February 5, 1996, when we left by train to Odessa, at the station where the train stood for 2 minutes, we kissed for the first time. It was the maximum I could get in all these years, for everything I’ve gone through. For some it is funny. For me at the time, it was an incredible achievement.

At home, I had a serious conversation with my mother. She had a lot of questions: what’s happening, why all this, you have that few girls here, in your country, in your city? What kind of love? You shake a girl’s head, she has a guy she’s going to marry. It was like descending from the Everest into the basement of the village. How to get married when? No one has written about it, no one has it to me. Wait until I write a letter and get a response (it took 20-25 days) there was no time, and I decided to take this step: I go to visit acquaintances who have a phone, the girl goes to visit her acquaintance with the phone, I call around the city and we talk. Well, I understand, I pay the interstate when the bill comes. It was better than letters. I called and asked about the guy and the rest. The girl replied, "Well, as if in the correspondence we are friends, you don't write anything like that. Yes, I was surprised by your arrival, your gifts, your attention. And what next?

And really, what next? What could be next? After all, it’s not going to the neighbor’s yard for a date, not even to the neighbor’s town. In service, I had a promotion, I was pursued by a praporstnik, and by the end of the second year of my service, I was free to come home for a night. Calling together on the weekend, we agreed that the girl would come to visit me "on the sea" in the summer. In the summer she came to visit with her older brother, visited for almost a week. I brought the roses from the military section in the morning, quietly placed at her bed. I tried to always be around. Several times he raised questions about his feelings, but these conversations ended with nothing. She went home, and I fell into thought again. I am 20 years old, I am a soldier, I have no apartment, I cannot live with my parents. What can I offer a girl? Heaven in the shell? In a foreign country, for her.

My mother, looking at my suffering, said, if you are so stubborn, you want to do something more: get married, rent an apartment, bring it here and live. All of it! Parental welfare. pinch under the ass received, I agree that I will come to visit in September. I bought a ring, took a vacation at my own expense - and forward. To the ring I bought a box in the form of a rose: a green stem, and on top a barley box in the form of a button, which is opened. There is the ring. I remember coming, I am already more pleased, how warmer the meeting. Pulled into another room, she stood on the couch to be one growth with me. I give her this rose, she smiles, she likes the gift. But she doesn’t suspect it’s a gift with a surprise. I open the button, she is in shock: I ask: Will you marry me? She answered: Yes!

We have been together for 24 years. We had 2 weddings: marriage in Moldova and marriage registration in Ukraine, we changed 7 rental apartments, lived in Moldova for a year and a half, where we had a son. We live in Ukraine and have two children. And I tell my wife every day that I love her, that she is the most. I cannot imagine life without her. I am sure I am very lucky that this happened. When my eldest son, at an adult, conscious age, listened to our story of how a family was formed, he said, “If it were not for you, I would never believe that this is true and that can be.”

I came to my father at the country, showing fresh photos of his grandson (a little over a year old to him). My grandfather is pleased, how beautiful my grandson is!

Was I beautiful when I was small?

No, you were terrible. I remember all the neighbors said, how is such a beautiful Wolf such a terrible son? Yes, so they said.

I went to make tea.

Thank you Father)

Every lawyer knows that to swear to tell the truth does not mean to tell it.

The most delicious peelings

For some time after the wedding we lived with my husband's parents and since I love to cook, I was pleased to engage in this activity for a fairly large family.
On one of the Sundays, the mother-in-law from the market brought pork and beef and we decided to make peelings.
I and my sixteen-year-old sister and a ten-year-old brother, my little assistant Stanislav.
They grabbed, fed the whole family, and two more kilograms with a tail frozen in a faithful labor "Snаige".
In a few days.
Earlier all, about three, returned home from school the younger and decided to cook pelletry.
I put water to boil. Go to the refrigerator, but... It turned out that in the morning in the district lost electricity due to an accident at the substation, the freezer flowed and the pellet pellet turned into dull and pale bits in three plastic bags.
Stas scratched his neck, but since he was a very clever and hungry child, the idea came to him quickly.
He got the largest bowl, put it on fire, poured a little vegetable oil and, breaking away from the total mass of 3-4 folded pellet, carefully scrolled them into a bowl, and then splashed them into a hot bowl.
The boy ate such cockroaches, ate. Liked it. The boy decided to rescue the remaining petals.
When I got back from work, there was no electricity. They went to the eighth floor on foot, angry and hungry.
And at home we met with a stunning smell and a whole mountain of appetizing layered meat spices was waiting for us.
Honestly, I have never eaten more delicious peppers in my life.
And as Staskine's huge brown eyes shone - the boy saved the product, our labor and fed the family with a new unusual dish.

Peskov said there are no oligarchs in the country and there is a constant change of power. In which country does the press secretary of the President of Russia live?

The case was a couple of years ago, then I just removed the room in the communal.

In general, I went to work in the fifth, to buy products.

I bought a couple of packs of rolltons, spices, sausages and baked bread.

I go to the box and put it out. I see the cigarette director blowing.

I go out of the store, and he stands, smoking. He asks me (I am the director):

Why do you eat Rodlton? What do you buy potatoes? The Eggs?

I went into the room until I bought anything. Of all the dishes only a cup of tea and a plate with a glass.

D. You have to eat properly.

I went to sunset.

In general, I come the next day, and I have a new microwave, a bowl and a blanket with a pillow.)

I called him, he said it was just a gift, take it and don’t ask any questions.

Such cases

XXX: The situation was worse. A friend started dating a girl:

- She left her husband, was constantly beaten, cuddled, well, how can it be... such a beautiful, smart woman...

In a few months:

The cock! The Beast! I’ve never beat women, but I’ll probably hit them soon.

A photographer told me when we talked about this.

– is

My first erotic photo was a few years ago. Wild was worried. A woman of thirty, probably a dream. Excellent external data, high chest, tightened ass, assy waist, pleasant facial features.

While preparing for the filming, the girl asked:

Do you have sex with models?

Yes is no. - a friend was confused, trying to concentrate on the upcoming work and not allowing the fantasy to go. I’m only interested in getting good photos.

The woman breathed:

Maybe we’ll take a photo next time.

and left.