And have you noticed how easily and quickly you were deprived of basic constitutional rights without any vote?

Pre-Dose

Vika, the daughter of my Peter's friend, once went to a nightclub and, of course, got into history.

It all started with the fact that Vika washed her hands in the bathroom, laid down the riddle next to the dishwasher and, being slightly under the steam, just forgot it there.

After a minute, it was enough, I ran, and Ridicula, of course, was frozen.

Poor Vika even sprayed all the garbage in the toilet with a wooden sushi stick, and suddenly the thief even the passport, or the right dropped. and nothing. I found nothing. I walked through the hall, suddenly there was what was going on. Nothing but garbage. And an hour after the disappearance, when Vika was already asking the wardrobe to give her a coat without a number, suddenly the armoured music smelt and the DJ announced:

Attention to! Victoria Naumova, who lost her bag, approach the DJ.

The music blurred again.
Happy Vic, headed to the DJ and pointed to a very angry girl.
The girl took Vic’s hand and pulled her into a remote corner where it was a little quieter.
Immediately on the floor in the embryonic position suffered a boy. From the grimas on his face, it was visible that he was suffering very much.
The girl stretched to Victoria her riddle and cried in her ear:
Check it faster. All in place?
Wika began to remove the content:
Passport, thank goodness! The Right! Ura! The bank card. The EU! Oh, the room in the closet and even in the wallet thousands of rubles remained. Thank you very much, everything is in place. I thought I had picked up a bitch and ended up. thank you. And that...
The girl interrupted her:
“Don’t make me a fool, we both know it’s not all that’s in the bag. Service for service. I returned you the bag with your barrel and even money, and you quickly tell me – what were your wheels there?

There were no wheels, no wheels.

Do not make me a fool. Three tablets, quite large, are packed in separate pink bags without any inscriptions. Well? Think more sharply.

I don’t have any pills, I swear, I’m not at all about that. You confused something.

In short, I count to three. If anything, he will retaliate, will say that he did not know, and you will sit for storage and dissemination (at the same time, the angry girl pointed to a man who was tormented).

My boyfriend just looked into your bag, there were three pills. Well remember it. He just wanted to try it, thought it was vitamins. He swallowed one, did not swallow, then the second and third. and here. He is dying. Tell me, shit, what were these wheels and what to save them from? I call it “rust.” We do not need it, neither you nor me.

- Girl, you are confusing, I had no pills in my bag at all.
Okay, then it will be worse. You will tell the rubbish. Stay there, I call an ambulance.
The girl got the phone, and Vika remembered something and pulled out of the back pocket of the jeans a white pill packed in a pink cellophane:
Could that be the pills?
Yes, they are they! What stupidity is this?
It’s not really stupid, it’s pressed towels. Thank you again, all the good and take care of your boyfriend.

In connection with the coronavirus epidemic, the new international airport and subway in Omsk closed. Well, how they closed... Predicting for many years such a situation – they didn’t even open...

I was still small. I watched with my cousin, even younger than me, the cartoon "Snow Queen". At the end, when the Queen was shown a big plan, I cried out:

Oh, how beautiful she must be!

The sister objected:

But is evil.

I asked her:

What would you choose: to be beautiful but evil, or to be ugly but good?

She answered:

and beautiful. I will fix it later.



She was 5 years old at the time.)

How I lived in a time of historical events!

From the chat: "My husband was enrolled in the coronavirus reserve group. I, of course, am proud of Vitka and all that, but if you don’t want to be treated by an orthopedist for pneumonia – stay home!”

Every night after watching the news, I must turn on a horror movie to somehow calm down.

More than two hundred years ago, the English physician D. Hill was elected to the Royal Scientific Society. After a while, he sent a report to this society with the following content: "One of the sailors on the ship on which I worked as a ship doctor had a broken leg. I collected all the fragments, placed them properly and poured resin and sludge water obtained when the resin was exhausted. Soon the fragments joined together, and the sailor was able to walk as if nothing had happened. In ancient times, the Royal Society spoke a lot about the healing properties of sludge water and dew. The message of Dr. D. Hill caused great interest and was read at one of the scientific sessions. A few days later, D. Hill sent a further message to the society:

“In my report, I forgot to mention that the sailors’ leg was wooden.”

Epidemics and panic are best carried out at home.

In 1989 I had to travel from Moscow to Helsinki. One of my neighbors was a Swede, who, judging by his stories, visited almost the entire Soviet Union and visited almost all the Union republics. We talked, and I asked the most original question: "What do you like the most in our country?"

“Russian hospitality,” my interlocutor replied without thinking.

How is? “I cried out,” you said, having been to the Caucasus several times. The people of the Caucasus are famous for their traditional hospitality.

If you are invited to a house in the Caucasus, the table will be covered with the richest: the freshest fruits and vegetables, the finest meat, the unimaginable variety of dishes. The owner will get his best wine and will try his best to soothe the guest. During the evening, the host or one of his guests will say several times: “Have you paid attention to our Caucasian hospitality? This is our centuries-old tradition.”

If you are invited to a Russian family, everything will be much more modest. The observing guest will notice, however, that the hosts are somewhat confused that they cannot offer the guest more than they have. And if they are thankful for their hospitality, they will be truly surprised and someone will say, “Yes, God is with you. Go to the Caucasus, this is where real hospitality is.”

“It turns out,” my neighbor continued, “that Caucasian hospitality comes from tradition, and Russian hospitality comes from soul. It is, of course, wonderful when the people keep good traditions, but I like the Russian version somehow more, my casual companion concluded his reasoning.

Have you seen Putin’s response?
In whom?! to

In 1989 I had to travel from Moscow to Helsinki. One of my neighbors was a Swede, who, judging by his stories, visited almost the entire Soviet Union and visited almost all the Union republics. We talked, and I asked the most original question: "What do you like the most in our country?"



“Russian hospitality,” my interlocutor replied without thinking.



How is? “I cried out,” you said, having been to the Caucasus several times. The people of the Caucasus are famous for their traditional hospitality.



If you are invited to a house in the Caucasus, the table will be covered with the richest: the freshest fruits and vegetables, the finest meat, the unimaginable variety of dishes. The owner will get his best wine and will try his best to soothe the guest. During the evening, the host or one of his guests will say several times: “Have you paid attention to our Caucasian hospitality? This is our centuries-old tradition.”



If you are invited to a Russian family, everything will be much more modest. The observing guest will notice, however, that the hosts are somewhat confused that they cannot offer the guest more than they have. And if they are thankful for their hospitality, they will be truly surprised and someone will say, “Yes, God is with you. Go to the Caucasus, this is where real hospitality is.”



“It turns out,” my neighbor continued, “that Caucasian hospitality comes from tradition, and Russian hospitality comes from soul. It is, of course, wonderful when the people keep good traditions, but I like the Russian version somehow more, my casual companion concluded his reasoning.

Xxx: Every night after watching the news, I definitely turn on a horror movie to somehow calm down.

The world is so scared of the coronavirus that I saw people vaccinate themselves in my entrance.

yyy: I saw how two guys from a plastic bottle with a foil inhaler built. They are treated as they can.

In the morning, I think my kids are NPS. While you look at them, they move, dress, gather to school or kindergarten. But it is worth to get out of the room as they fade and all their activity stops.

My lessons are like that. You sit with him and do everything in half an hour. You leave, in half an hour, all on the same task. Well understandably distracting, I used to play, painted all kinds of warheads on the sheet. I decided to follow, I went, I looked into the room, and he was just sitting and looking into the wall. Type of Slip regime. A terrible PDC.

My 70-year-old aunt is a very interesting person. She loves to rush until late, but every day she wakes up at 7 a.m. to... open the clothes! (He lives in the private sector. Then go to sleep again about 12.

Once she came to my mother’s birthday (sister’s) and was back home at seven o’clock. Mom said to sit down again, we haven’t seen each other for a long time, even if we’ll talk. Unfortunately, I can’t, I need to close. I no longer endured this universe mystery with stakes, I ask why? ? to ? to

“Well,” said the aunt, “if I come late and close the stall late, the neighbors will say, ‘I’m going somewhere. And if I don’t open it in the morning, it’s going to be late, Sonja.

Well and what? ? to ? to I was honestly surprised. Do you know what your neighbors will say?

Well, no, it will still be a bad thought, aunt breathing.

Do you talk to them because they care about you? I still don’t understand.

Not...

That is how my aunt lives. He loves to visit, but can’t afford to sit down. She likes to sleep long, but must get up early.

And all because “what will the neighbors say? ? to ? “

There is a man in our office, let’s say, Igor Viktorovich. He is well for forty, but his soul is young. The spirit of adventure is alive and beats the key.

At one of the sidelines, when everyone had already drank a little and had conversations, jokes, stories.

Igor Viktorovich suddenly stood over the table. Attracted the attention. And he said, “Friends, let’s smoke the same thing! I have it!”

No one would mind, but Igor Viktorovich, where did he come from?

- And I was cooked, he said cuddly.

Who is?

The children smoked in the garage. I was ashamed and took it.

I did not know my father from birth. My question is, “Where is he? “My mother replied that he died in the war (I was born in 1996, so either Chechnya or Croatia).

I didn’t believe it and asked my grandmother the same question. Obviously, her improvisation was not prepared in advance, and the grandmother replied, “it was eaten by cats.” When I told her my mom’s version, she said without thinking for a second, “In the war and they ate.”

Life is terribly unfair: who is the crown, who is the virus.

The boy got out of the bus, looked around, saw the urn, and threw a ticket into it. Ticket is fake. The guy picked up four times, kicked, swallowed. He pulled the gum out of his mouth, weighed the ticket and still threw it into the urn.
A few minutes later, I saw another guy take out a bag of baked meat from Bush and give it to a bomja standing nearby. He was very grateful and grateful to him. Then he grabbed and got a coin of 10 rubles: Please, give it to the bartenders.

This is Peter, little boy.

Bright thoughts and a bright morning. Be happy, or whatever you want.