Russian officials with high social status are increasingly reminding what they are coming from women with reduced social responsibility!

At the Department of Foreign Languages in our institute taught the mother of Mark Anatolyevich Minkova. The composer, among other things, the author of the music for the song "Invisible Fight" from the series "The Investigation is led by Knights". "Our service is dangerous and difficult, and at first glance it seems unseen. If somebody is somewhere with us sometimes...” Remember?

At the seminars, she asked, “Do you want me to tell you a new series of “Knatook”? Which hasn’t been shown yet? Who will refuse. It is now pirates, the internet and other charms, and then everything is secret. Interesting, and she told me. in German.

From the Future Questionnaire:

“Did you or your close relatives, during the retirement reform period, belong to the presidential administration, the government, or any other organized criminal group?”

I live on the last floor. Repair of the roof. Heat of 32 degrees. I enter the entrance, an elevator arrives, and two workers run into the cabin with me. Poor and exhausted. We go to the ninth floor, I see something they want to say. We arrive, and one decides to ask for water. Of course, I say, drag the canister, on the roof is hell. They were so delighted and then told that six residents refused to enter. The counters, bl@t, have them!

Suddenly I remembered a long history.

He gathered in his youth with the company in the bathroom and went to the network store to buy all kinds of nonsense for competitions. And I needed two bananas for something like fast food without hands. I wanted to buy bigger so that the process did not end too quickly. In the store, all the bananas are small.

There is a beautiful girl, a saleswoman (D). Here is our dialogue:

I: Girl, if you have big bananas, I need a couple big ones.

D: Everything is here in the room.

I: I need big ones, maybe there are in the warehouse?

D: No, there are the same...

Suddenly, the light fell on her, and she proposed:

“Take a carrot, it’s big. For what do you?” It was red :)



I am from such a sharp change of concept, I have not even found anything to say except:

“To Me to Eat”

Due to the fact that my husband and I have often talked about my and his childhood lately, I asked him about the brightest day he has ever remembered. From the first person.



The brightest memory, unfortunately, is associated with the greatest fear. I came from school, I was 9-10 years old, I go into the yard and see a terrible picture. Probably, the child’s consciousness added a little gesture to the memories, but I remember this: in the courtyard of no one, absolute silence and the whole earth filled with bloody cloths, paper with bloody traces, everywhere red loci – everything was literally poured with blood. Naturally, I was frightened, the imagination began to paint a picture of the terrible massacre of my whole family.



I slipped down the fence and, lowering my head on my knees, grabbed her with my hands. The desire to cry restrained my thoughts of my further unpredictable fate. I don’t know how long I was sitting there, but my grandmother cried out from the house. I, not believing my happiness, ran to her, hugged and shouted something like, "Grandma, Grandma, you are alive, how well, I am so happy! “And I cried.

Further, I do not remember how it was, and what my grandmother replied to me.. she was probably very surprised by my reaction)



The very “moment of truth” I do not remember, well, that is, how I was reassured and explained what happened. But in fact it was so: my father and my baptist worked in the garage, the baptist scattered his leg with something, scattered heavily, after which he ran out into the yard and began to run from side to side.

The father grabbed a bite of newspapers and clothes and tried to stop the blood by attaching them to the foot of a running baptist.

Having seen all this from the window, the mother ran to the neighbor and asked him to take them to the injury, and everyone, except the grandmother, left, and she was just going to clean everything.

Everything went well, the saint is alive and healthy to this day.



For a few days I was afraid to fall asleep, as the fantasy offered me in the dream new and new alternative versions of what happened.



Mother, by the way, insists that there was very little blood, there was no "lush" at all, there were clothes and paper, but not so much)

Nevertheless, I still remember in detail a picture that can compete with many horror films.)

When the world plans to replace humans with robots, we want to make humans become robots until age 65.

People like to confuse themselves with questions. Questions arise differently and begin to torment him from early childhood: Where does Santa live? Where do children come from? What happens if you put a light bulb in your mouth? If a whale fights an elephant, who will win? Where to get money for food and mortgage? What is the meaning of life and is there life on Mars?
Recently, one of the same small and annoying questions came to me: How can the workers of the N-CKoy network of stores so incredibly accurately calculate the number of pieces of cheese, independently packaged by the store into the food film, that with the twelve-hour storage period assigned after the package, there is no shortage of it on the shelves, just as there is no mountains of cheese in garbage containers? A natural, but not a good idea has been stolen – do the shop workers repackage yesterday’s cheese at the beginning of the next day again and do not mark it again? No, it cannot be. Simply, it is somewhat strange to see that a whole shelf of appetizing cheese sectors, still lying in the evening with labels with the expiration date "Today", disappears at night, and in the morning appears on the shelf already "fresh" cheese with the fresh labels "Today". The cheese fairy? most likely.
The day tormented me this question, the second. Of course, as the lawyers say, the proof of guilt lies on the side of the accusation. But how to prove? And I remembered a book from my childhood (there was such a fun before - books to read) about Robert Williams Wood - a talented, bright and humorous physicist-scientist. This is a moment in the life of a scientist.
In the university pension for a long time among student residents there was a terrible suspicion that the morning hot is prepared from the remains of yesterday’s lunch, collected from plates. The suspicion was very natural, as the fried meat for breakfast always followed the steak the day before. But how to prove it? Wood scratched his head and said, “I think I’ll be able to prove this with the help of a Bunzen burner and a spectroscope.” He knew that lithium chloride was a completely safe substance, very similar to ordinary salt in appearance and taste. He also knew that the spectroscope could detect the smallest traces of lithium in any material if it was burned in a colorless flame. Lithium gives a known red spectral line. When the students were served a steak for lunch the next day, Rob left on his plate a few large and seductive slices dried with lithium chloride. The next morning, the breakfast particles were hidden in the pocket, taken to the laboratory and burned in front of the spectroscope. The betrayal red line of lithium appeared - weak, but clearly visible. The deception was uncovered.
But back to our cheese. Wood’s method didn’t suit me. I made it easier. Shortly before the closure of the store, I approached the shelf I was interested in, took one of the pieces in my hands, made sure that the expiration date is tonight and put it in the previous place. And the next morning, entering the store right with its opening, I within a few seconds found my yesterday’s piece and, having been reliably convinced that it was it, bought it. The cheese was “today.” You may ask, how could I be sure? And everything is very simple: on the eve of the evening, with the blade of the office knife, I made a careful undetectable piercing and inserted a small neodymium MAGNIT into a piece of cheese.
The next morning, with the usual old pioneer compass, half hidden in my palm, I had no trouble taking the cheese in my hands, literally from the second attempt to find exactly the piece that I remembered and marked the evening. At home, I was convinced that my suspicions were justified.
The risk that one of the buyers would break a tooth on the magnet was minimal, so the interval between putting and removing the magnet was minimal. The bladder and the magnet are pre-sterilized with alcohol.

A new rabbi in the synagogue. He reads the Shma prayer and half of the synagogue stands up. The other half begins to shout at them and say, “Sit down!The first says to the second, “This is you, get up!“”
Rebecca ends up in trouble and goes to Zadiq in the morning.
Asks: say, I don’t know what the true tradition of reading “Shma” is.
Should Jews Stand Up?
– No, there is no such tradition... – replies the Tsadik.
Is the tradition sitting?
“No, it doesn’t say,” replies the Tsadik, “there is no such tradition.
So why did one half of the synagogue break with the other?! to
We have such a tradition!

In the company, I definitely “overwhelmed”. I go down in the subway, I walk through the turniquet, trying to keep up with all the remaining forces. And I see how a police officer does not miss a drunk in the subway.

Well why? The man is angry.

You don’t look like a sober person.

What does a sober person look like?

“Well, that’s about that,” the policeman replied and pointed to me.

The woman’s name is Men. When the child was breastfed, he called him Ludojed.

Yyy: And when the wife goes to the store, becomes deserted?

Zzz: The kitchen is a popular place?

Yyy: And when he fucked the secretary before he returned home, it was a prelude.

How to explain to the government that they are afraid not to work until old age, but to remain without work until old age and not to live.

It was necessary to print 20 copies of one file, one page, went to the local printing, print 20 tenge, photocopy - 10 tenge. I asked one sheet to print and make 19 copies of it... Aunt was angry for a long time, but I am not guilty))

Grandfather comes to the polling station, approaches one of the members of the commission and asks:
Can I know if my wife voted?
Now let’s look at the lists. Yes, here she signed up for receiving the ballots. Do you live together, grandfather?
“No, she died 15 years ago, but every time she comes to vote. I cannot catch her all.

I am at the Institute of Traumatology. My leg broke. Half an hour ago, they placed a newcomer in the chamber - their boyfriend in the board, in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts with paparazzi and mirror glasses. The diagnosis is a rupture of the ligaments in the shoulder. The doctor explained to him that the operation required a bandage for subsequent fixation of the arm (we call them helicopters).

Sanya, so called the guy, quickly found on the Internet among the ads this bandage, slightly b/u, and asks a neighbor, a former colonel:

Uncle Cole, call me and make an arrangement. Or I am not very capable.

Uncle Cole took the phone and called the number:

Hello Hello good day. Are you selling bandages? What price? Can you deceive yourself? very well. Go to school, 12, I’ll go out, I’ll take it. What? How will I dress? Like a puppy, fucking.

The guards stopped in the morning. Check the docks. As if they were asking:

Q: Did you use it yesterday?

I : No.

Why is the face red?

I: You see, I’m a non-drinker, so I’m ashamed that I don’t meet your expectations.



Purchased and released.

At the next table a little girl cried and cried very loudly, the parents had zero reaction. She returned with the phrase, “Why are you crying, you want me to be your mom, I and your dad liked it.”

I’ve never seen the kids calm up and leave the cafe so quickly.)

And another story, which I heard as real: one man rented a house to tourists in North Transvaal, and he lived in Pretoria.

One day, neither light nor dawn, his mobile phone was called by other guests, Americans, and with a panic voice began to ask for advice, what to do - in the bathroom! As it turns out, it was a big varan.

The man, cursing about himself "these dumb people from the stone jungle," advised to drive out the squabber's donkey and fell down to sleep further.

But he failed: the guests called again. “The caterpillar has taken the swab from us, what should we do now? “!”

They say “reform,” we mean “they will steal.”

In 1955, the first secretary of the Central Committee of the CPSU Nikita Sergeevich Khrushchev during a trip to the country visited his native village of Kalinovka in the Kursk region. By this time, in honor of the outstanding landlord, the local collage named Chkalov was renamed the collage named Khrushchev.

By the arrival of the renowned guest, the village, with the support of the district committee of the party, was thoroughly prepared - the tables were broken from drinks and snacks. Khrushchev recognized his relatives and friends, whom he had not seen for 20, 30, 40 years. The dinner continued until the deep evening. Friends of childhood approached the head of the country, talked about what they lived, asked for something. The helper of Khrushchev only had time to write: “Bring a shiffer, nails, cement...”

Conducting Khrushchev to the car, Nikanor Krotov, a childhood friend with whom they grazed livestock, and now the chairman of the farm, spotted the departing guest with a protective bass:
“You Nikita, don’t worry. behave with dignity. Do not let the loops go down. Work honestly for the good of the people and remember – YOU HAVE THE NAME OF OUR COLHOSE!”