Absolutely intolerant story.

A few weeks ago, or maybe more, a small incident happened in Israel. One Afro-Jew had a roof, according to his relatives. He took a small kitchen knife, twenty-five centimeters long, and waving with it, began to run around the area. Someone from relatives or neighbors called the police, came in and demanded to stop violating the shame. In response, the Afro-Jew, waving a knife and shouting something in an incomprehensible language, struck the police officer. The police officer did not courageously enter the wrestling, but simply shot this crendle.

What started here. Police are accused of racism. How is it, well you think with a knife ran, well you think that he was mocking, he has not killed anyone so far, and the policeman had to take off the knife or let him kick, and he immediately shoot. It’s all because he’s a white policeman racist. And with racism we will fight, for this reason we announced a march of protest. A crowd of African Jews gathered, blocked the streets and went to protest.

They murmured, demanded that all racist police officers be shot and dispersed peacefully to engage in their peaceful affairs: beating cars, burning cafes, burning garbage tanks. The police arrested a dozen people, especially borzhi, but the court released them, burning garbage tanks, beating cars, and a cafeteria pogrom is not a crime. Better let go, or they will be offended and again go to protest against racism.
I read about it and remembered one story that took place in 1994.

I worked with one interesting person, let’s call him Vitalik. A healthy Russian man (Klichko and Valuev in his background look like younger brothers), in the past a sailor who worked for a decade and a half on a fishing trawler in the northern seas. He met on a holiday in Sochi with a beautiful, slim, black-eyed girl, fell in love as a boy, married, had children and found himself in Israel. As all emigrants (repatriants) removed an apartment, arranged for work.

That morning our shifts coincided, each did his job, occasionally interrupting words. Vitalik was clearly not in himself, it can be seen that he is a little on the squad, he thinks something, he is worried about something, obviously something happened. We went on a break together. We sit in the cafe and eat.
Vitaly, what has happened? I see something happened. Could I help?
I don’t even know how to tell. He did everything right, justly, and the hell knows it.
Tell me, and then we will think.

Further from his words.
I go home yesterday from the second shift, you know, I fuck know where I rent an apartment, I come to our village and I hear a wild whisper and cries for help. I stop, I get out of the car, I hear screams somewhere on the side, I run to the noise, I see some Negritos girl to the ground pressed, a T-shirt and shorts on it in pieces, and he is already shaking her cowards. I grabbed him for the head and attached him to a tree. I raise a girl - quite sleepy, ages 12-14. As she found out there to understand did not start, took off the jacket, put on it, led into the car. The Negro is here. He would go home under the noise to take off, so no exit began, I will put you down, you are already a corpse, some more purge endured, I didn't really understand. I turn around, I go to him, so this idiot got a foam knife and started waving them. I had to give a couple of opleighs, not to beat him really, shit, a minor of 16-18. He took off his knife, put it under his ass and told him to go home. He won’t calm down, he’s so shy. He took the stick and again on me. He removed the drone, pulled in another couple of opleys. Listen, I say, Maximka, what do you want from me, that I will put your bad head in your ass, go home. No, it is not reassuring. I’ll write the car number, I’ll find you tomorrow, we’ll kill you, and so on. My patience has run out. I put the girl in the car, I catch this maximum, although to catch him, he is all the time in the car. I pulled him out of my pants and tied him to the tree with a belt. In the trunk I had a rope, cut off a few pieces, attached knots, pulled a cowboy out of it and let him take care of his ass with linen. At first he threatened, mocked, whispered, whispered, waved in a bad voice, then cried and drowned. I pulled him off, said goodbye to Penelope and left. The girl brought to the apartment, and there the parents are already on the ears, told how it was, smoked with her father. I saw them go to the hospital to examine and write a statement to the police. I finally went home. I go and think I have two daughters almost that age. You see what a fucking thing happened. I said my own, maybe we go?

This is such a story. Vitalika was not sought by the police, as did not the rapist. And what to look for him, well you think, wanted to fuck a young girl, it was his own fault. It does not pose a public danger.

The morality? There will be no morality. Take care of your children.

According to reports of British media, in the center of London artificial intelligence was purchased a mansion worth about 5 billion Russian rubles.

I had a friend in college. We call him Vasa. Our friendship extended from school and continued in the universe until one moment – the moment I bought a car. Vasya, as a true friend, took the passenger seat and started driving with me to the universe in the morning, so as not to be pushed in public transport. In principle, I am not in a break, even on the way.

The problem with Vasey was quickly drawn. A stone of prejudice was my way of driving. Vasya considered it a personal duty to criticize every turn of the steering wheel and, whether or not, to go with his advice. Restore, brake, accelerate, look to the left, right, up, down... I was angry with this noble But - still a friend, and a friend who helps with the course.

But this story would not have existed if it had not been a single case.

I was damned to take you to my hometown. On the road ice, slightly dried with snow. I walk carefully, relentlessly, stifling my friend’s talk with music. The car turned from above. Normally such a hill with rebarbers on the sides, unspoiled with sand. I feel the car slowly pulling away and shaking.

Slow down the speed, Vasya asks.

It cannot. The front drive. It will be stronger, I explained.

I say slow down.

– Vasya, I have extreme driving lessons behind my shoulders. Stick and do not interfere.

“Yes, they are,” said the comrade with authority, “and... it’s enough to drive. Not just sufficing, but dragging, apparently trying to understand me. Probably. I still don’t know the real reason for this stupid act.

What happened next is not hard to guess. The car with a light soul went to dance. Left-right, left-right - I try to get out of the slope and not smash into the detachment. Silently and concentratedly, I drive, gas and pray that there will be no encounter, as it throws us all the way. The meeting did not wait long. Man jumped out like the devil from the tobacco box.

All of it, I think. Me and your brains are broken. But still did not pass the extreme driving lessons for nothing. I haven’t had time to see the whole life before my eyes, how I feel! The car ran out, took its lane and just on time. Man walked by, murmuring far away. I was glad I didn’t strike anyone today. It shakes me. Adrenaline and fear are a wild mix. I brake at the side, I get out of the car. Vasek, who has been silent all this time, with shaken eyes comes out of the track and, cried out, gives out:

I told you brakes, idiot.

Here it caught me. I turn around, open the luggage, throw away his things and calmly say:

And then, Vassula, go on foot.

and I leave.

And thanks to Vasa, everyone soon learned that I’m riding like a cupcake, and that a car for me is like a grenade for a monkey.

But thank you for that too. None of my friends had ever been in the car. But this did not upset me, because suddenly there are inadequates among them.

Today I learned how it is called in some large companies that the office worker needs to go to the toilet. The biopathy. By the way, biopic.

Would you like Alevina Pavlovna?

Later, she was in biopathy.

Recently my parents told me a very fascinating story about my "dark" past.

I was 3-4 years old. I went to the village with my parents for the New Year. Next to the house there is one only store that has been ruined from old age, and all the rest is a steppe and shy houses.

While my parents were doing homework, I, pulling on my father's wheels and a hat, went for a walk. When my parents grabbed me, I was already sitting in the kitchen and wrapping chocolate snacks on both cheeks. I had all my pockets filled with chocolate. In the 90s, there was no money then, chocolate was an expensive pleasure, we rarely saw it.

Naturally, the interrogation has begun.

“Where did you get it?”

I: “Hosted”

My father was surprised who was so generous and gave me chocolate, and even in such a quantity. Okay, I forgot somehow. A few hours later, the seller came from the same store. He asks if we did not see someone suddenly rotating around the store.

A: “And what happened?”

“The store was robbed!”

My father did not even think of me. I asked him what losses and so on. What the seller replied to him was that chocolate, candy and other sweets were missing.

And again the question - who catered where they live.

As it turned out, during the walk I found myself extremely "doubtful" companions" for about 14 years. They knocked out a small window in the store and pushed me into it.

I am not a law-abiding citizen :)

Sclerosis is when you can’t remember: everything will be fine or it has already been.

Operation “End of the World”.

In 2004, having accepted a tempting offer, I left the already quietly singing neighbor, said goodbye to Tosha and his owners and left to the capital – the glorious pride of Minsk, where 4 years later I got a small one.

The former working area. Metro is near, but not the center. Not far from the center. This had its advantages: a quiet courtyard, quiet neighbors – mostly, grandmothers – old women and young couples renting cheap housing.

But there was a minus, the only one. Have I guessed? It is! In such places is very popular club of fine wine lovers. In terms of popularity, he left far behind all public, pro-government and opposition organizations.

The meeting place of the club was traditionally – a compulsory small store, opening at 7-00. Oh, those dull moments of waiting! Oh these burning tubes! Are we, the unworthy, able to estimate the depth of the tragedy, when it lacks a few rubles to the promised beauty of 0.7 liters under the name "Forgotten Tango"!

A small retreat. What only romantic names do not come up with the manufacturers of cheap buffalo! “Solovye Song”, “Bear’s Grove”, “Old Waltz”. It seems that there is no ink on the shelf, but at least a 100-year-old brand made from elite grape varieties collected from the southern slope of the Pan-Se Hill villa in southern France.

But back to the opening. If you, dear reader, have fallen asleep to buy a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of water at this time - be prepared for extreme tests. Because as soon as the door of a desirable store opens... In general, it is better to stand out for ten minutes.

First, the concentration of scents will make even the statue of Lenin cry, and secondly - you will look in that company as organic as a child's carpet in a chicken bar. We are strangers in this world of hope, anxiety and distress. We are not allowed to understand... And thank God, if honest.

But I turned away. The previous owner of my apartment was just one of the burlonauts. Volodya, in the past a very intelligent handy man, a high-class carpenter-sleeper-tokar. He lived alone, his pension was high, so in the cold winter evenings the club gathered in his apartment. Accordingly, the doors were opened with the finger, and not only what was crooked was brought out.

Volodya was forcibly taken from Minsk by his grandson. I sold an apartment and bought a house next to me. And kept the old man under surveillance so that he did not fall asleep.

I had to arrange. The first floor, not the very zinc, but tolerable. First, he threw all the furniture, the gas plate, the partitions, some boards, mountains of garbage. At the same time in the apartment, the workers changed the entrance door and put new windows. Then with the powder washed everything - from the floor to the ceiling, simultaneously removing the former once white dark brown wallpapers.

Finally, after breathing the fresh air with my breasts and bowing into the mattress with Sonia (my cat, about which I will write a separate story), I thought about the customs and traditions in this house.
The son!
“Oh,” I thought, “there are they.
Woody at home? A local nuclear tradition.
and no.
And where?
He has gone.
Where to?
and far away.
When will he return?
and never.
Tradition thought, scratching unwashed hair:
And you who?
The new owner.
Have I bought?
and yes.
How is?
and silence.
Trying not to hurt the confused guest again, I began to carefully close the door, ha! The naive boy!
- This dick, - decidedly set the leg of tradition, - must be made.
Do you agree when?
to drink?
to appear.

This is where he depends for a long time. The next call came in a month.
Woody at home?
and no.
Then there was an exchange of kindnesses in the spirit of the above dialogue, which ended in the same way. In general, early the boy was delighted with quiet grandmothers and young couples. It turned out that on the fourth floor lives an active member of the club, and next to it - another.

I will not tire you with the listing of quarrels, screams, morning “and where Volodya”, evening “aaaaaaaaaa, cut!!!”. Then you will stumble on someone (sleeping, poor), then the non-local "clubmen" at the entrance are interested in the subject of "and you who".

There was this:
Nikolai, borrow me and I will die.
In principle, not a penny. Not because it is a pity. The thing is another: it is worth one time to sponsor, it will immediately start:
- Brother, on, I eat, - a plastic glass with acetone-like liquid is poured into the face.
Andrew, save me, it’s three o’clock at night.
- Neighbor, shit, donations, men will put on the counter if they do not return. I am out of retirement (salaries, benefits, etc.) This is a tooth at any time of the day.
How do I know? The experience of four years of mounting year on rental apartments and rooms, everything was seen.

After all, it was fun. You had to fight, and even, don't believe, to advocate for "your" alkas, who was actively muted in the entrance. Did he not swallow it, or did he shed it, or did he not donate at all?

I confess, I looked colourful at the time too – in cowards, with a tail, face in foam (barbed) at the foot of a whirling cat. Per, Sonia was at least a wolf in her past life. In any case, the dogs were by her side. In short, our combat duo has repeatedly preserved the bones of unlucky neighbors.

Everything would be tolerable if not one but. After Volodya disappeared from the horizon, the club moved somewhere. Drink in the courtyard or with someone in the guests. However, over time, the whole glamorous cave moved toward us on the fourth floor. Why is? I do not know. Maybe they have a new chairman, or maybe the house is in a damned place. According to ancient established traditions, the apartment in the rule was never closed - the castle was not there for a long time, and what to carry there? Light, hot water, gas are turned off for non-payment. The classic.

As a rule, the meetings in the club lasted far beyond midnight. After that, the tired members slowly and carefully descended the stairs. This is where the same appeared. Entered into action, forgive me, the physiological features of the examined organism. In the case of natural urges, no one was allowed to jump out on the street. Why Why?

The rush of the young man is not beautiful. So calmly, with dignity, broke up the pants and...

The flowers, joyful and fun.
The neighbors smile, they like the song.
Jour-Jour, Cap-Cap and Dili-Don
The sun laughed, and he was amused:
What if you die, shit, with your song!

Approximately so did all the residents of the entrance. The worst thing is that the conversation did not lead to anything.
“Nikolaic, you do, I’m going to kill the one who does it!”! to
– Nicholas, forgive me, it was I who caught him, not Donos. I swear to you!
I have to look at Sonja again.
“Maya,” she sympathetically supported, “and what to do, master, what to do?

It is time to prepare for battle. It was December of 2012, when everyone was looking forward to the end of the world. He hoped the dollar would collapse. They had no hope at all, tormented by devaluations, denominations and other variations.

The end of the world, the end of the world. Each firefighter bought a few candles and started preparing. Where I got the requisite - I won't say, the mill bought in children's goods, the candles were.

And then came that day. 21 December 2012. Holy believers in the predictions of the Mayan members of the club, well purchased, began preparing for the meeting of the apocalypse long before midnight. The Better.

At 23-58, I left the apartment, turned off the lights in the entrance and quietly went up to the fourth floor. Drunk voices whispered behind the semi-open door, tearful farewell was given, someone repented, someone whispered (judging by the voice, a woman, but, you understand yourself, sexual signs are not obvious there).

At exactly 23-59-58 I quietly opened the door and entered the apartment.

Can you walk so that the glass is drained? I didn’t, and they could.
Imagine it. Darkness, something shapeless in a black balloon enters the room and with a cramp (Anton Sergeevich, thank you for the details), a dead-white face (melt) is illuminated by a burning candle from the bottom.
Still silent in the bathroom. The silence was so ringing that we heard the clock of Nura’s grandmother, who lived in the opposite house.

- Ahr, ap, fuouuh, - tried to give birth to the chairman of the club.
- Give him a chance, his deputy shrugged his lips.
It seemed like a woman whispered.
I silently turned and went out.

That is all. There were no more drunkards in our entrance. The club changed the license forever. And cleanliness and order have become the unchanging attributes of our tiny dormitory.

The epilepsy.

Yes, I understand that someone could have died, that this joke, gently speaking, is cruel. No one died, this time. And secondly, you know how cool it is when it smells of freshness, not a stagnant toilet.

Author: Andrey Avdey

Having learned that because of artificial intelligence in Sberbank missed a billion, Rogozin ordered to introduce artificial intelligence in all units of Roscosmos.

xxx: And if the virgin plume is broken not by sex, but by a foreign object, then the child will be like a vibrator, cucumbers or deodorant?

Yyy: Yes, total nonsense, most people would then be like Gandons.

Fuck wait...

After this comment, I really believed in the telegon...

I no longer have enough health to love my country.

The rolling.

In the distant 2000s I was handed the keys of my own apartment (hello to the native Baranovich). And now I’m scratching, thinking about loans, work and the desire to sleep more than four hours. At least five. But it is not about that.

Having settled in separate apartments, I, of course, expected to enjoy all the delights of a separate stay. However, the fate made its adjustments, giving an unusual neighbor from above. I’m on the third floor, she’s on the fourth, that’s important. Let’s call her Alicia. 55 years old, dressed carefully, always emphasized polite and wary. All in all luck. Apparently Anne is not.
- Flowers, already long ago, chrysanthemums in sadouououououououu.
WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!

I looked at the clock: 23:00. The concert started on schedule. And the house is good, panel to it. Hearing is just incredible. Evening songs are like that. Having a loud and ringing voice, Aleutina introduced the listeners to the chappers of the 70s, to the folk songs, and exactly in the 23-58...
My dear accountant.

Don’t believe it, even now I’m crazy when I hear this hit. And so every night, day by day, month by month. Agree, to fall asleep under such a cradle, firstly, a little problematic, and secondly... It is a shame to admit, but I saw dreams depending on the repertoire of Aleutina. For example, if she sang "At the Soldier's Weekend" - I was called back to the army. To the objections that "I served, Comrade Colonel", the soldier responded with a smile "do not cry, girl, Motherland calls."

There was another strange thing with the neighbor.
Wow, wow, you have done well.
Sorry, it came from the toilet. Also loud and ringing. Probably, as a former accountant, Aleutina used to rejoicing in the voice of even the small delights of life: the reduced balance, the absence of a debtor and the smooth release of biological fluids and hardship from the body.

It would be everything and nothing, of course. But, I repeat, falling asleep under hysterical twists was very difficult. I was very sorry for the cat. Yes, you have not heard. It was because of the cat that I decided to take active action. Tosha was beautiful: a huge, affectionate and friendly applause. A messy friend lived with neighbors on the venue, (Mikhailovna and Stepanic, hello), and occasionally ran to me for guests on the subject of "what new, what you're going to eat, scratch a puzik".

But if Tosha was delayed until 23:00, then...
- Flowers, already long ago, chrysanthemums in sadouououououououu.
Rrr, meowowowowowowowow
Visibly increased in volumes, the cat in all the force of the lungs pulled out so that the heels blew, and the frogs, running on the back, committed mass suicide in the area of the cockerel.
My dear accountant.
Under the anthem of debt and credit, Tosha began to whisper, furiously clinging to the couch with his nails. There was no way out – or they would soon have to buy new furniture or... war until the victory.

But the guns begin to speak when the diplomats are silent. So first I tried to solve the issue peacefully:
“Sorry, but I could not sing after 23:00, I can’t fall asleep.
and well.

In the evening:
You have fooled me...
You promised not to sing after 23:00.

In the evening:
Be healthy, live rich.
No concerts after 23:00.
and well.

In the evening:
The blue fog looks like...
“But this is the end of patience.”
“Well, we’ll go another way,” I scratched my teeth, deciding to use an unconventional method.
“I was preparing for battle.”
From the two sticks (one and a half meters, the second - two), he gathered a tool of retaliation - a wooden structure joined by the letter "G", which he also painted in black. The principle of action is simple - a long stick reaches the neighbor's window, a short...
In general, the case was so.

*** by
22 to 50. The light is turned off. I, trembling from impatience, tightly crushed the G-shaped tree. 22 to 55. Quietly opened the door. 22 hours and 59 minutes. 58 seconds, 40 seconds, 35, 28, 20, 10, 9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1. The start!
The flowers of Kalina!
It is time!
I knocked hard on the singer’s window and quickly closed the door.
The boy is young...

The song abruptly stopped.
“Top, top, top, top,” she ran to the window.
Shiroirr, I pulled up the curtains.

and silence. It depends. He thinks. What to think! You live on the fourth floor. And the night, the darkness, the storm clouds the sky, the storm flies ferociously, and it knocks at the window as the beast wins.
Shiroirr, I pulled up the curtains.
- Top, top, top, top, buch, scrip, scrip, bu-bu-bu, - clearly hiding with the head and whispering prayer.

G-shaped therapy lasted for another three days, more precisely the evening. The protocol of treatment was standard: song, тук-tuk, silent, top-top, shiyrr, silence, shiyrr, top-top-top, buch, script-script, bu-bu-bu. Don’t believe it helped! The concerts ended forever. Tosha was no longer nervous, running to the guests, and I managed to sleep without nightmares. And yes, Alevina sang already half-sounded and only by day. Even Waterloo was silent. In any case, probably.

The epilepsy.
There is a ghost in our house. I mean, of course, although...

Author: Andrey Avdey

Many, looking at the convulsive efforts of the government to fill the budget at the expense of the population, ask themselves the question – greed or stupidity? God, why is it “or”?

xxx: Try to mess with one of the daughters Stallone - and there will be a new episode of Rambo )

Yyy: "Veteran of the Vietnam War John Rambo in the hope of finding the guy who sent a photo of his member to one of his daughters, came to Russia..."

No matter what the story is, continue...

Upon arrival in Moscow, John decides to have breakfast at the KFS, where he meets Mr. Universe and Arnold Schwarzenegger’s best friend Alexander. Impressed with sympathy for the guest of the capital, Alexander decides to help John in the search for a...

XXX: Half the script is already ready.

YYY: The next half-hour insert, like Nevsky and Rambo go through the streets of Moscow under music. Then they go to the public toilet, the music changes to alarming, John and Sasha stand next to the pissuars doing the need and kindly talking, suddenly John's gaze freezes just below Alexander's belt... without breaking away from the affairs, John gets his daughter's phone out of his pocket, what he's looking for in it, and suddenly changes in the face...

I went to an interview with the recruiter agency. Position of engineer.

For about 25 years, the girl was interested in where she worked, who, what she did. In the words, an electromagnetic valve, a reducer, a signal sensor rattled the forehead, sneered and quickly picked up something on the keyboard with an understanding look. He thought of making his resume on me, but behind her back was a mirror door of the closet. She just googled all the incomprehensible words...After which she told me that they were picking up a person for a job in a company that deals with cooling equipment (industrial chillers are ordered). Then there was a thermodynamics exam. She googled questions, I answered what I remember, trying to add more clever words, so that she didn’t have time to swallow it all, and smiling less when she Dacala and Kiwa.

The last question word in word:

Have you worked with vessels under pressure?

to work.

Under what pressure was the vessel?

Working 300 atm, limit 650.

The atmosphere? How much is it in pascals?

- 30 million with a tail (good that not bars though)

Googlett, that can’t be. The vessel would not stand, why do you deceive me? I am afraid you won’t get to us. (Hey, she’s swallowed the pots, the pots can be any)

Are you sure you are competent in this?

and yes. to Goodbye.



The next day a man from that company called and offered 3 months of internship for 150 backs a month, because I have no experience and I need to be trained. I will not agree to this.

This was stated by the employee of the Kia Auto Show. of our days.

Three people came to the "Kia" car salon - a husband with a wife and pop. The prelude is this - before the wedding decided to redeem sins and decided to help the daddy with transportation, but not straight to take and give the car, but to add the daddy the missing amount. My father has 800 r.

They went, looked, chose and chose. "Kia Sport" at the minimum for 1 250 000. Well said done. Go to form. Father for the time being left to inspect the car, and the married went to the box office, with Father's money. But we did not get to the box. Through the service area they entered the backyard and left in an unknown direction. My father didn’t call the organs. He shook his beard and it was like that.

They built such a capitalism that there is no such a socialism that there is no such a socialism.
So said L. Simkin.

The antonyms “dry” and “half-sweet” reminded...
Gorbachev's time, with a cynical attitude to alcohol. My mother works in a wine store.
I am 6 years old. It’s a hot August, we’re coming to Odessa. I don't remember how it went, but not "wild" as usual, but on the most real base of rest. Now she began to recall, and in her head shuddered the voice of an old loud speaker: "The rest base of Dawn invites to lunch!" This is where I celebrated my beloved parent.
On the first evening, before the dances, local massivists from the directorate played games for recreators. The scenario is simple. I know five names of flowers.“I know the five names of trees!” Volunteers who failed to accomplish the task are returned to the audience. Mom is still staying in the cottage, and I am already depicting a "wonderkinder" in the central site of the base.
Questions are becoming more and more mature, the rows of players are rapidly decreasing. And I hold on, that’s smart. (When I look at my photo from that summer – a shuffle in a peanut dress and round eyes – it becomes fun.) Here are the three of us. A tall, beautiful officer in a summer shirt, a red-looking lady of the Balzac age (this is now everything I know about Balzac, then I couldn't understand why my grandmother had such a beautiful white dress) well, and I, my mom's joy. The question, another question, we go from nose to nose. There is a mutual understanding between the young officer and the lady in the dress. I feel it well, I think they conspired to prevent me from winning!
I know five kinds of cheese.“I know five kinds of sausages!” - Hey guys, my mom, right now, in a time of terrible deficit, works in a wine and ice cream store, and I am a child curious, well, you understand...
The host of the show obviously decides that it is time to bind with the little one, and to provide the story of a brave officer and a beautiful lady with a beautiful end.
I know the five names of alcoholic drinks. The lady answers first - and on the fourth name fails. Ura to! I thought it would not be red anymore. My turn: "Old Kiev" - once, "Karat" - two... I regret, I do not remember what I called the third and fourth number. The last one was Basel.
I have won.
The man in shape did not respond. He strangely bended twice, wiped his face with the sleeve of a white kitten and cried. Suddenly, I felt sorry for a beautiful officer, and I, still pressing the microphone in my hands, began to tell him: "Uncle, there is another "Sniper", "Ambassador", "Ararat!" With each title, the audience was increasingly delighted with my victory.
The host said that I am a real winner and that my parents can be proud of me. And that I run to my house, because my mom probably won’t come to dance with me.

The man who argued that: "Mathematics schools are a remnant of the past, and such professions as a mathematician and a programmer in the future will be needed less and less" today crumbles that: "lost billions of rubles because of mistakes of artificial intelligence."

told a friend. He was interviewed for the position of assistant director. Company as a firm. The local producer. Known in the region. After the conversation c. He was left in the office waiting for the director. From the director shed fresh alcohol, but he kept vigorous. After some time, the director called the secretary, and she immediately brought them the count, drinks and snacks. have drunk. Then again... And again... He doesn’t remember how he got home. In the morning, the director called and said he was accepted. It really works for the second year. Sometimes the boss hurts.

Drinking is harmful!

I sit at home tonight. A bell at the door. There are two people on the threshold: a boy and a girl aged 27-30:

Good day!

The good...

We are a federal investment group specializing in attracting contributions from potential retirees and increasing their well-being. And we came to you on the recommendation of Victor Fatherhood. Do you know such?

Uncle Vivian. Yes, I knew him. He lived here...

- Yes, judging by all, he has a good opinion about you and he recommended you as a reliable and stable investor.

Guys guess it. Are you from hell?

In the sense?

- Uncle Vitya died a year and a half ago in a drunk ugar. What investments? Goodbye to! Uncle Vite greetings.