I go to work. I pass by the bus stop. A man holds a 4-5 year old son in his hand.

The dialogue I heard:

Son (excited): And in general... I’m the chief, you hear? I am!

Father (in a calm voice): Well, if you are the chief, you will buy a gift for yourself.

5 Second Pause: You are the chief.

I came to wash the car. Next to two mouths. One “Slavian”, the other “Middle Asian”.

This was later explained to me when the Uzbek guy started washing my car.

I went out, sat on the bench, waiting.

A medium-sized uncle is suitable:

This is where you put the car...

In the sense of these?

With the non-Russian

I don’t care who washes my car. I am not a supporter of nationalism.

Not nationalism, of course. Why not let them earn their own?

Are you yours?

and yes. I am a Christian. I work in a neighboring house.

A competing company. Bezenchuk and his sons. Marketing is shit.

What kind of sons? What marketing?

and none. I am not a Slav.

And who?? to

What is the difference? How much does it cost to wash? The sedan?

Six hundred

They have four hundred. What are you doing with your two hundred pounds of excess?

Okay I understood...

has gone. I was offended. My own shit.

It was in 1 course. When I went to the hostel, my grandmother brought me cakes. The next day, after a couple, I was met in the hallway by a neighbor with a frightened face. Next I am I, the neighbor:

I. What is it?

C. Yesterday your neighbors served me cakes, and when I ate a couple of pieces, they said that they were with hormones, said specifically for you. You have problems with hair growth. That from them grows the beard, the moustache and the voice grows rough. Is it true?

I am. (According to the neighbors, she simply took the cakes on the table without permission. I am also a fan of it (Yes. The Truth. (I told her something about my slow hormone production process)

C. And what should I do?

I. I do not know. Buying a shave?

Conversation is over. This situation made us in a mood for the whole night. The next day, I decided to tell her the truth (not to take other people without asking). She believed the truth not immediately, thought I was reassuring.

My grandmother’s cakes were cakes.

We don’t have a lunch area at work, so we have lunch at work. And in order not to confuse customers when they approach, we clean the food tanks under the table. I sit at home, I eat. A girl comes in, looks at me with a shocked look and asks:

You are what?

- Habit, fucking... - I say, pulling out the plate from under the table...

A few days ago, my grandparents (they are 70 years old) went to the hospital for injections, further from their words.

The first to the office went grandfather, put an injection in a vein, immediately the doctor comes out and says another man can go in.

There were no men in the line and the doctor said to come in to the one who is not embarrassed.

Grandma went in, the injection put in the buttock straight against grandfather.

Grandfather looks at her, and the grandmother with the words look me not sorry, turns and drops her pants for the injection, and the grandfather with a serious face, silenced for a couple of seconds and sadly said: shameless.

The doctors began to look around in confusion, a little later the grandmother told them that it was her grandfather.

I worked in a large production. The area is not small, passing alone. The transmission mode - electronic passes and helicopters. Later than 8 you will not enter, before 17 you will not leave (except for the bosses).

I am going to leave the workshop, the time is 16-50, just ten minutes to get to the passageway. My colleague is not in a hurry, I tell him go, time is gone. He answered me:

“No, I’m delaying, I don’t want to watch the zombies.

He went to the cigarette.

I think what are the zombies? I approach the passageway, I look at the clock, fucking, I reached too fast, I dropped the speed to the minimum, and then I got there. Everything is exactly the same, slowly, barely rearranging the legs from different paths and paths flowing to the passageway, pulling the time, before 17 still do not pass. There are many, and they are becoming more and more. The picture is awful, well one in one of the mansions of evil or walking dead.

On the subject of the fact that dogs get used to the owner, and cats to the place can be discussed endlessly. I will try to convince you. By the will of fate, I had to take a cat to me for PMJ after the death of my relative. The cat is wise and I have known it since childhood. At some point, my wife and I noticed that the puffy tail got into the depths of the closet, buried in the depths of the clothes and didn’t get out of there for hours. After a thorough investigation, we established the cause of the strange behavior of our guardian. The whole thing is that in the innermost of the closet was found the sweater of the previous owner... The cat missing a loved one completely plunged into the smell of a lost forever friend. Now the gun has its own basket with a wool sweater bed.

Take care of your loved ones.

I go to work with my father in the shop. At the same time there was my future husband, whom my father asked to help. I went through the workshop, I see: he is working on the crusher, he does not see me. I approached him and kissed him a bit for the pop. He jumped back with large wild eyes and a stick in his hands. I ask, “You are what?” He was shocked: "There were only me, your father and two brothers of Sidov. I was wondering which one of them would have to get rid of.”

In the 1990s, the cemetery was covered by bandits. In the zero are mentions. The 10th is covered by the FSB.
Well, in the twentieth years, God himself ordered to take the staff of the administration of the president.

According to a familiar doctor.

Each of the doctors working in the clinics encountered such a person as: "I know everything myself, and you are stupid, and I will tell you how to treat me." At the same time, these characters are "prescribed" in the clinic and go there almost every day.
So one day such a patient took out a respected doctor in years. The doctor, by the way, was the charm and politeness. Patients have always (well or almost always) been sincerely grateful to him. The doctor, having had to listen to the "personage", her endless "all the thieves are doctors around, nobody knows how to treat and does not want to," - did not stand and openly sent to x#@. The person was naturally upset to the depths of the cockerel by such a statement and she immediately ran with a complaint to the chief doctor. This dialogue took place in the headquarters:

A person from the threshold of transitioning to ultrasound: - Do you know what your doctor permitted?! to
The doctor-in-chief said, “I’m sorry, but I’m absolutely sure that Dr. K. couldn’t do anything damnable – that’s Dr. K!
The person, clutching from the overwhelming feelings: - This is your K... He... He... He sent me to x#@!! to
The doctor answered surprisedly and upsetly: - And you decided that it was here?! to

As a teenager, you think that one day you will meet someone special, and by 30 you realize that you are special. Normal are few.

My friend was interviewed a few years ago. I remembered...

Further in his name.

I went to an interview with a manager for the sale of armor. I knew nothing, but I read and prepared. Work was very needed.

has arrived. I sit in the corridor next to the director’s office. A man of 25 years. He asks me, “Who are you? “” I still wondered if he answered it or not, if there was little hell from the mountain. But I decided that I would not miss: "I am a sales manager for the interview." The second question from the guy: “Are you a fool? “” How I didn’t put him there, I don’t know. People looking for work are very modest. In any case, he replied, “No.” The man: “Come to the staff department, make the documents”

He was the owner of a small but proud company. Urgently needed was sold, and the director did not like to conduct interviews.

This is a fast interview. They still work together.

And you say “Lusher tests,” “polygraphs,” “assessments.” You can’t waste your time and ask the most important question :)

One day my wife got it. In the car, sitting on the passenger seat constantly distracted by screams of the type: Caution car (bicycle, person) right (left, behind)! Nervous during movement, especially at busy intersections. All the requests not to distract or scare went into the sand. I asked my colleagues if they were jumping like that. Approximately half of them listen to the advice. But the answer is not to delight, but to surprise.



I said to myself:



You’d rather die silently, but don’t scare me.





I told this story to my wife. She looked at me strangely, but it helped, strangely.)

I go to the garden with my daughter. I passed by a car in which a woman was sitting. The window is open and he can hear us. The daughter says loudly:

Look at what a scary man!

Where is?

Out in the car.

I am uncomfortable silent. My aunt begins to shake her eyes. The daughter adds:

My aunt hangs in the mirror.

My aunt and I relaxed. She actually has a scary toy hanging on the mirror in the salon.

This morning I decided to make a surprise to my girlfriend. I came to her at work, approached her from behind and kissed her in the neck. She laughed and said, “Mike, stop, we’re at work.” My name is Brandon.

The most tolerant in the world is overweight, he easily copes with everyone.

All safety instructions are written in blood.

The popular wisdom.

I believe that any rules or instructions on TB should start with this phrase, maybe then it will be better to get there. This applies in particular to the rules on weapons. Most know: “The owner of a weapon must always treat the weapon as if it is loaded and ready to be fired."It is strictly forbidden to direct weapons against people, even if they are not loaded, or against people, buildings and structures." They know, but confidently violate, I have seen it myself many times.
I was sure it wasn’t charged. Another hunter cries over the body of a shot comrade.
- Oh-oh-oh, it shot itself... - justifies the next debunk... But you will not be able to unfold what has been done.

There will be a few stories on this subject that happened to me personally. To divide into several - I don't see the point, the theme is one, and whoever is long - let it list.

As a child, I was involved in shooting for several years. Shooting from a low-caliber rifle and very successful, in my opinion, at the age of 13 to get the 1st adult grade, without reaching one point to the KMS, to become the champion of the field among schoolchildren, I think more than.
At first, the rules of dealing with weapons were strangled to us at almost every class, but nevertheless there were fools who violated them.

Sometimes, as a discharge and for diversity, we were allowed to shoot from another weapon, for example, from the Margolin pistol under the usual 5.6 mm low-caliber cartridge. to 25 meters. Here and now, we gave each one such a barrel, we go with weapons along the corridor with a group of 8 people headed by a coach. According to the rules: the shell on the security, store separately, ammunition separately, can be equipped only on the fire line. And one smart man, well, so rushed to shoot that he replied, decided to fill the store in advance, put it in the gun, then thought that nothing would happen if he turned over the closet and put it back on the security.
Something happened to the gun, maybe the stopper was broken, but he immediately started shooting, even without pressing the trigger hook. So he gave an unexpected turn of five shots. Luckily, it was already overwhelmed at the level of reflexes, that weapons could not be directed toward people, so he shrugged the curtain, raising the trunk up, almost vertically. Well, and what else held in this position, although he got between the big and index finger of his left hand, the sharp edges of the sharply moved closure, to blood, but still did not give up, despite the pain and surprise. And how we were frightened... Only the beetle on the high ceiling, our nerves and a bit of our ears and morality suffered when our very intelligent coach, who had called everyone on “You” before and with the word “Please”, suddenly began, throwing his legs, wildly screaming at this guy, sprinkling with saliva and virtually not using literary words...
Expelled of course.

The next case occurred a few years later, when I was already engaged in an individual program, coming at any time.
Winter holidays, I came in the morning. I change clothes without rushing, because I hear that there is a lot of people (man 12) in the gun. Their coach himself handed out rifles (SM-2, if anyone is interested). There is no ammunition. There is little people in the morning, you can say, and there is no one, a guard, a coach (not mine) and the boss in his office. The people who have received the weapons are pulled out, through a long corridor, into a fairly spacious gun zone.
Children left without supervision, don’t even doubt, start to “fool”, splashing out untouchable energy and coming up with incredible nonsense on the go. First, they licked prisoners, and then one got the ammunition stitched at the previous training. They started playing warfare. They smashed bullets and shot. First to the wall. The lead bullet at a low-caliber cartridge is removed (turned by the hands to the side) quite easily. The sound without a bullet is silent, almost light cotton, unheard in the weapon, but a small sharp flame breaks out of the trunk. It is beautiful.
Comes another boy, who got the weapon, sees this matter, also connects. Breaks the bullet and trying not to pour out the powder, gently inserts, closes the lock and shoots a joke at one of the comrades.

I was not present, only when I ran with the coach for loud, hysterical screams, saw a still shaking corpse with a careful, small hole in the forehead, and the second boy beating next to him in hysterics, in a wide circle of the already silent crowd of others.
I broke the bullet! I just broke the bullet! Here is she! The boy cried, repeating this as a spell and trying not to look at the dead, his best friend.
Further examination showed that in that rifle from the previous shooting was stuck in the bullet. Apparently the broken ammunition was caught, and the shooter, by inexperience, did not understand this, when the last shot simply did not supposedly hit the target. and cleaned up.
The director of the board was fired, without the right to hold such positions, he received a conditional term, but the coach sat real. The instructions for the trainers have been rewritten, and the boy will still not be returned. He was 12 years old. This is a terrible science for the rest of my life.

Per that is why, when already in the army on the shooting field on me began to move the trunk of a charged machine, I without thinking splashed into the dust, pressing my head to the ground, trying to become small and invisible. The co-workers were then roaring and roaring at me, and I had no doubt that I had done everything right and would continue to do so in similar situations.
But everything in order.

The shooting. We shoot from the AKS-74, crashing into the divisions. One of us is shooting, and we are standing behind five meters in five free columns, one by one, waiting for our turn. Each machine has its own and the store is equipped, but it is in the end and attached until the moment it has not been laid on a dirty bed and without an order - it is prohibited. Commander is a sergeant, commander of the division. From the "scooter" for the shooting of the squadron (three shooter positions, one for the division), officers observe.
In the team on the fire line comes the Uzbek from the young. Lie down, insert the store, remove from the security, shake, and by the command of "Fire" shots for something does not happen, while we see that several times convulsively presses the trigger hook. Per the bullet, the ammunition has not been sent to the end, but he suddenly turns sharply to the left, rising up and bending like a snake with the upper half of the body, and moving the trunk on us and the sergeant, also continues to press down again and again:
- The sergeant, they do not shoot... - the sergeant jumped aside, I immediately fell to the ground, and the rest of them stood still and looked as if enchanted. The sergeant from the side invaded the Uzbek, hand for hand, taking the machine to the side and pressing it to the ground. From the squadron on the steep metal staircase, the commander of the squadron, red as a cancer, had already flown and ran to us.
– D... Bailey! Isaac smells of you! Tomorrow you will personally give me everything... - at the last words he whispered that the cobra, visible from the spasm that intercepted the throat, swallowed, swallowed the hand and already relatively calmly to the sergeant who took and discharged the machine: - Do not give the machine in your hands! In his dress by the company, until I allow him to change... And so that I could not see him without a cloth outside the box...

In the evening, the Uzbek in the focus of lying gave a check for weapons and at the same time the charter of the guard service:
Do it once!
The face of the clock is inviolable... E-E, yes...
What is “yes,” fool? The grandfather rides. Now you will be touched by the faner... Let’s go again...
I am a teacher...
to stand up! and calm! The effort is to accept! Do it once...

And how many accidentally shot while loading the weapons in the guard... In my memory, seven or eight times. The procedure would seem simple: I disconnected the store, removed it from the security, turned the lock, pressed down, put it on the security. We managed to confuse. First overturned another dolboeb, and only then the store disconnected - Babach! It is good that for such cases in the guard was installed perpendicular to the wall, at the level of the belt, a thick wall, steel pipe, about a meter long and all manipulations were made, only placing the end of the trunk in it.

The next case with the already injured occurred in Uzbekistan, where our regiment was on a business trip on the occasion of mass unrest.
Peaceful like the Uzbek, suddenly began to hard cut and burn the Mechetian Turks, regardless of gender and age. Margilan, near Jambul. It was over, but we were still there. Day patrol was cancelled due to the terrible heat in early June, and there was nothing there to patrol, by day the town just died out, and several of our fighters caught a heat stroke.

Our company is found in a small school. Two fighters at the gates, two in patrol on the perimeter inside the fence. There is a room without windows where ammunition is stored. What do the others do? On the street in the sun is a terrible thing.
In my opinion, all the problems in the army arise when the uncontrolled soldier appears unemployed with any, even the most oak business, time.

and here. It’s hot, dull, boring... Again very hot, and again incredibly boring...
And the row officers (five people) somewhere overwhelmed the view with cassettes (then in the novelty) and watched all day long, then Hollywood militants, then comedies, or even porn, closed in one of the classes, such as the headquarters, the company office and their bedroom in one person.
In the service, away from the high chiefs, they were shot, too tired of worklessness, heat and a clear goal. Separated to cowards, they roll on mattresses all day long and stumble in a small telecome.
After breakfast, the The company ordered a type of weapon cleaning. be occupied. Three squads - three school classes. How much can it be cleaned? Well, an hour, another, and after three, even the most correct servants of the sergeants were tired of chasing someone.
I didn’t see who started first. Four-h... The first strip flew out of the old leaflet issued for this matter, divided into strips 2-3 centimeters wide. Everyone has a few bullets in their pockets, even with bullets of plastic (white-milk color) handed out to soldiers for mass riots, but nevertheless.
The technology is simple: the bullet is broken off at the cartridge, the bullet in the trunk is tightly wrapped. Almost silent shot and a piece of cloth flew out of the trunk. It immediately unfolds, so it flies from the force a few meters, but it looks funny.
The bullet from the AKS-74, caliber 5.45, from the ammunition to pull out is not so easy, but quickly adapted. Who clamps on the door, who inserts a profile square tube into the frame of a school chair and breaks off the machine with a fire extinguisher... Directly the war began: Puff-f, Puff-f... I immediately got worse:
Oh guys, maybe... what about it? - Well, whoever would listen to me, I only served a year and above two more calls at that time.
The barrel, the barrel slipped into the corridor, go over the combat comrades, I do not know how such games often end.

And surely, after some time, the roar of the wounded spider, the matte... the boys immediately stopped. I went back, one grandfather jumped, pressed his ass with his hands, scorned not as a child, the others stood in the shower... Then I stopped and began to pull out of his ass a long, bloody rub. He pulls and pulls with the stone, and it doesn’t end... In the end, he pulled out a tape of 50 centimeters, if not more...

And how it turned out: One grandfather, a Georgian nationality, when he had one ammunition left, decided to do a super shot. Therefore, he did not divide a piece of tape, but wrote it entirely, very tightly and strongly rubbing it with a shomple. Just so shooting is not interesting anymore, and then the comrade bended in time, with a passion working with the shomp...
When shot in the focus, from a distance of one centimeter, the tightly rubbed cloth did not have time to break and lose speed, and entered, easily breaking through the strained hb and cowards. She snorted through the buttocks from the inside and into the body - to a depth of more than a centimeter, slightly on the side of the natural hole.

The rotting fieldsman, thrown under the company (in the school gym) and pulled his bag. He poured a heavily bleeding wound, peroxide and applied a large tampon: On, hold yourself. I put an injection with anesthetic and another antibiotic on my shoulder. The grandfather, with his trousers dropped, lie half on his stomach at the party, quietly standing up and periodically shooting a portion of matts and threats toward the Georgian, while the rest are advised:
Maybe he will survive...
- Let him say that he fell back on the corner, lying on the side of the table... - oh, the inventors...
- It is better to say that I used an apple for apples (there were a few in the school area) and fell down, sprinkled his ass on his ass...
“It’s all shit, guys... It’s already a fieldsher.
Any doctor will determine that this is a gunfire. And it will not heal itself, there are particles of burned powder in the wound and fragments of strands from the fabric from the rubber, hb or cowards. Definitely need to clean. A place like that. The sphincter is damaged. In short, we must surrender honestly! Let the car call and drive to the hospital.
Fuck...

The guy had several operations, the wound was long purified, eventually commissioned, and he was then ordered... He did not serve for several months... Georgia was given a year of disband. And the company together with the officers were then long carried out at every convenient occasion. Such toys...

Per, on the basis of such a negative experience, I quickly abandoned hunting. At first I burned up, but having come together a couple of times, especially in a large company and almost sitting in advance of time, I decided that I didn’t need that. When there was no hike, the hunters began to boast of stems and shoot on bottles, not complying with the most basic safety requirements. The one who put the bottles has not yet gone aside and a couple of meters, and someone is already starting to smoke... And several times I pulled away or tilt down with my own hand, unintentionally aimed at me or others...
– He is not charged... – what to say... to explain...

Comrade also pulled after one incident. They went with a friend to the duck. A small canyon, abundantly grown along the shores, a little clean water, 20-30 meters. We arrived late, already at night, kissed for a couple of hours in the car and quietly sailed on a rubber boat in the camels on the star. They pushed a few rubber ducks into clean water.
- And then I cried in the manna... - he cried, crying out to the comrade I visited in the hospital. From the squirrels from that shore, such a palm began, with no fewer than five trunks. I jumped into the boat, woe, hand-mash, and where there...
The boat is swollen, I was caught in the Vítka, but they continue to burn.
He got seventeen pieces, eight pieces, but one in the scrotum... All the pieces went deep, but it’s still terribly unpleasant.

The non-combat losses of the Ukrainian armed forces in the Donbass amount to more than 30% of the total number of losses, and in some national battalions all 50%. I am not surprised in principle. In the absence of proper discipline, a-la Cossack freedom, such as Zaporozhye sech, and even under the gorilovka, can very well be. For comparison, the non-combat losses of the USSR army in Afghanistan never exceeded 10%. The military prosecutor of Ukraine generally stated that the non-combat losses exceeded the combat, but the head of the General Staff Muzenko corrected it, LIGA.net quotes.He said that from the beginning of the conflict and until the end of 2017 in Donbass combat losses amounted to a little more than 2,300 soldiers, and non-combat losses - 871. "And he noted that such accidental losses compared to 2015-2016 decreased in times."
Many there, even in the statistics from the General Staff, suddenly turned out to be suicides. And I don’t believe that young, healthy guys suddenly shot themselves so massively. Probably a lion’s share of accidents there due to careless handling of weapons. But they imagine it as suicide, so that relatives don’t pay...Tyfu, hell...

Therefore, and on the basis of the above, I am categorically against the free sale of firearms. I don’t want to talk about self-defense. Armed primarily criminal elements and other frozen inadequates. Here some fools on bicycles manage to pressure children to death, and you tell me about deadly trunks...
Well, his fool, ladies and gentlemen.

Never turn back. All there unchanged.

It was in the 90s, I was 10-12.

My mother was fooling me because I was studying badly.

I was constantly beaten by the belt, and my father did not pay any attention to it.

Once again, I brought home another portion of the two. the mother of the psychanula, gave my father the belt, and ordered him to beat me with the belt, for what he did. The father took the belt, took me to another room, closed the door (holding the belt in his hand) and said:

Let’s just sit down, let’s let the mother squeeze.

My daughter plays in the sandbox on the playground, I sit next to her on the bench. There are two girls on the grass. Well, how they stand... One is standing, and the other is constantly scattered: the wheel will do it, then it will sit on the sword, and the straight is doing it very demonstratively, up to shining from the paphos.

“Let’s go to the competition,” says the spaghetti girl.

How is it? The second asks.

“Now, we’re going to turn around to do wheels, spaghetti, well, there are different dance movements... And we’re going to evaluate each other.

Why should I compete with you? Compete with those you go to your gym. You will do better and I will judge you.

- Let's go, - replies the spaghetti girl and begins to show "the program of the performance."

After some time comes the time to announce the estimates:

and 2! 2 is! 2 is! 2 is! The second girl (which is the judge) speaks loudly.

Why WOW? ! to - The spaghetti girl is upset donaldzia, - I did everything right!

I am a judge, I know.

The girl was psychotic and went home.

This is how we lose the best athletes.)