My mom once told me that boys grow up and have a broken voice at the age of 13.

I look forward to my thirteen. That day has come. I am 13. I am proud to live, thinking that my voice was broken and I was upset. A real man.

And here, somehow, I needed to call my mother’s “home” phone to work. I had only three numbers in my head (mama’s work, grandmother’s work, dad’s work) that I was constantly confusing.

I call my mom to work, they raise the phone and I go "and Lily can?“”

In response, I get a response from the grandmother who destroyed my thirteen-year-old man: “Girl, you’ve got the wrong number.”

I meet a very untouched friend.

I ask :

Do you let go of your beard?

Reply to:

Well yes. I decided to give my wife a birthday present.

I ask :

Does she like bearded men?

Reply to:

On the contrary, he cannot endure. On her birthday, I’ll be fighting.

Dirty money in the envelope.

One day, the rector of the Leningrad State University, a famous geometer, Professor Alexander Danilovich Alexanderov, was asked to make a statement on the table: "Please accept me in the university...".
In response, he imposed a resolution: “Attack.”

The forest was shrinking rapidly, but the trees continued to vote for the tail because its pen was made of wood and they thought it was one of them.

My mother told me a case from her life (she is a lawyer with me), then with her words:



We just finished the institute, all distributed by places, the first time after the release we gather on the birthday of the group. We sit at her house at the table, drink tea, and talk about who has any interesting incidents in practice, murders, there, theft and the like. And then the culprit of the celebration does not stand and says: "What are you all murder and murder, I am as if not on my birthday, but at the production meeting! Let’s talk about something else, about love, for example.” One of the guests replied, “Oh, surely, oh love! I’ve had a rape here.”

Russia's Geography News: From Siberia to the Far East, Buryatia and the Trans-Baikal Territory were expelled!

Upon returning from the shale, I felt a stall in my mouth. Unfortunately, the chewing is over. He entered the first food store and threw it into the box. He was in a hurry, angry. And to me in response:
Good night!
I looked at the saleswoman, looked around, and fell into a completely different world. Probably even red. A beautiful girl stands behind the counter, her eyes are alive. There is no one around, so the revenue is not very much. She does not even have a chair. They are waiting for buyers in a dark room. God knows how long he will wait. I would be crazy in ten minutes. She also wishes me a good evening. To the hasty fool who did not even bother to look at her. But one look — hell, if I were younger and free, I would definitely try to remove this girl. He would postpone all affairs, entertain her with fun conversations until the end of the shift, and then...

But enough of them later. He said to her completely foolishly, but honestly and with feelings:
Girl, you are very beautiful. I’m married, I just say. Good evening!

You would see it bloom!

When you were young, what could you buy for $100?
Ten years, a granddaughter, ten years in prison.

Once a rat came out of the bathroom. Fortunately, I wasn’t there at that moment. I went in, saw, immediately closed the door to the bathroom, ran after the cat (ah, apparently I had a wrenched thought in my head to throw the cat there and lock it until it solves the problem). Fortunately (for the cat, whose cheeked face was clear that he had just slept quietly and was not ready for such a hernia), when I returned, the rat was already fucking off the same way it got off. I closed the toilet for a while. I even thought of pressing the cover of the curtains, but I was afraid that it would just break the cover to the harams. The rat didn’t come in anymore, but now I always push my penis a little further and look inside the toilet when I sit on it, although many years have passed since that.

They divide equally only when they can’t take everything.

It was told by a friend who worked as the head of the bank’s security service. It has been a week since I started working in this position. The owner and the head of the bank had not been known before. We met with our common acquaintance. The conversation lasted about half an hour, and he suddenly offered to work with him. We met again, asked my questions, discussed the conditions, and I agreed. The man turned out to be interesting, a candidate of legal sciences, worked in responsible positions. Gives me to study a business project presented by his old friend, a landlord. He is engaged in mining in the region far from Moscow. He asks for a loan of 40 million rubles, to organize the mining of gold. The project is well-designed, with clear schemes, graphics. Possible risks and ways to eliminate unwanted consequences are detailed. All banking agencies agreed to the project. When the CEO came, it was my turn. Of course, I am far from mining and geology in general. However, there was a little rumor about the name of the area. I have never heard of precious metals. Only iron ore. Carefully read the entire project, made a call to his subordinate to the branch, where both friends-businessman were born and raised. The next day, they sent information about how the borrower took large money from two local banks and successfully dropped it. And he has two lawyers assistants who have no place to test. In the very project found a letter from the regional geological management that the conclusion about the presence of any precious metals on the specified site will be ready not earlier than in a year. While it is being studied. So far, there is no reason or purpose for any work. The project envisaged an early start of work. In the open database of legal entities registered in the Russian Federation, the applicant was a construction organization in his hometown, established two weeks earlier, and nothing more. In fact, I spent less than an hour on the entire examination. The loan was refused. The head of the bank was stunned by the information about his old friend. I wonder who in our country is doing business, honest and not only.

The girl complains to her friend:
My daughter and I want to have a dog, and my husband is absolutely against it.
In a categorical way?
He says, “I won’t walk with her.”

If you stop drinking, smoking and fucking, you won’t live longer. Life will just seem longer.

Something about impure force and other poltergeists

After the divorce, Rome's wife, who professed the principle of "Al a cone, but in the center!" She bought herself a single on the Peace Avenue, and the unpretentious Roma for the remaining money acquired the first thing. Roma got an apartment on the outskirts, count in the suburbs. Not even an apartment, but half a house. There are such, you know, typical two-room houses of Soviet construction.

This inexpensive at first glance property had a number of undeniable advantages from the point of view of Roma. First and foremost, a full-fledged double. A separate entrance. A clock of land, flanked by a palisade. No neighbors, not counting the lonely semi-paralyzed old lady behind the wall. Two steps to work. The most important thing is the maximum distance from the center. This practically excluded for Roma the possibility of even a random encounter with her ex-wife or her mother.

Of course, there was a shortage of this home. and substantial. And so substantial that the previous owners, who were bustling with the sale of this apartment not the first year, looked at Rome with a mixture of hope and distrust, as if they expected that Rome, like the rest of the buyers, in the last moment will melt like an eggs in the fog. The apartment had a very bad reputation.

You can call it whatever you want, hellishness, impure force, poltergeist, but the fact remains a fact - weird things happened in the house from time to time. Periodically, objects moved by themselves, disappeared, and some things appeared unexpectedly, sometimes strange and frightening sounds were delivered from nowhere. In short, there was a full set of devil, repeatedly described by the ren-tv channel and the newspaper Oracle. And not that these strange things happen often and constantly, no. But because they rarely occurred, they produced an even more unexpected and depressing impression. Including its seeming meaninglessness. For example, you come from work, and on the kitchen table lies a key for seventeen. Which you did not have in your home.

That only the former owners, people rational and not superstitious, did not undertake to combat this phenomenon. Change the locks, hanging stalls on the windows. They invited a father with a cadil, in order to sanctify the dwelling. The father, of course, sanctified the dwelling, but then drowned in such a sink that in one evening he caused more damage to the owners than the unclean force in all the previous years. They called, like the unforgettable Frekken Bock, on television, in some show about the outdoors, where they were sincerely and honestly sent, offering not to shake the heads of busy people with all kinds of nonsense. Eventually, in their despair, they came to the point that one day they even set up a real wolf trap, which they themselves miraculously did not hit. Because the trap they placed in the kitchen was suddenly in the hallway, right under the door when they returned.

So the sellers were not without reason afraid that at the last moment Roma, to whom benevolent neighbors told about the oddities of the apartment, would give a back and jump. But Roma, the product of the Soviet education system, only laughed at all these rumors, and eventually the parties struck their hands. Especially since the former tenants left the new owner as a bonus almost all the environment and furnishings. Probably afraid to take a notorious drum with you in any furniture box. So Roma joked over them, settling into a new home.

Soon, however, the new tenant was forced to admit that the rumors about strange things happening in the apartment have a very real ground. The first ringing was a bottle of champagne. A bottle of champagne, open to the new home and standing in the refrigerator almost untouched, which Roma was all about to throw out, but his hand did not rise. And when she got up, Rome was surprised to find that the contents of the bottle had dropped by half. From under a tightly closed block, from the refrigerator, in the apartment where nobody but him was.

And then it began. It may have started earlier, just Roma, first faced with the unexplained, began to be more attentive to the surrounding environment. All events were in the same order as with champagne. That is, on the one hand it was characterized by its obvious meaninglessness and inexplicability, and on the other hand by its equally obvious harmlessness. Bread crumbs on the table, a passport that moved from the servo to the TV, disappeared unclearly where the lamps bought the day before, slurred water under the window from the fresh polished unclearly flowers, and all in this spirit. If Roma had not been aware in advance, he might have panicked and set off on the slippery path of his predecessors, changing castles and setting traps. But convinced that the events happening do not pose a threat to life and health, Roma decided to just shake her hand and not ruin her nerves. The only thing that caused him a slight annoyance was the disappearance of new cuts, which he sprinkled the day before at work to shake up the old electrical wiring. But Roma quickly filled this annoyance in itself and the next day struggled with others at work. In short, in one way or another, Roma has learned to coexist with the impure force that is present.

In other words, the new home was good for him. He met a neighbor, a lovely old lady Olga Vitalevna, who was very poorly hearing, was blinded, and barely moved around the house, so that Roma took the habit of going to the store to buy her some foods of the first necessity. What was she exceedingly glad. And when he repaired her crane and changed the socket in the kitchen, her happiness was no limit. In short, life, as they say, slowly improved.

On Monday morning, Rome felt bad. There were two reasons for Tom. The first is a colleague’s anniversary on Friday, and the second is a nephew’s wedding on the weekend. Roma treated drinking very positively, and never avoided good company, but had one peculiarity in this matter. His body perfectly tolerated single influences, but was categorically opposed to multi-day. So waking up in the morning on Monday, Roma felt bad, called to work, took a break, and remained lying on the couch, trying not to make unnecessary movements. Because without them, the mechanical carpentry worked in the head, rubbing the skull and all its contents from the inside. The situation could have saved a couple of aspirin pills, but as soon as the pharmacy rose, Roma has not yet had time. Therefore, he lay dumb on the couch, staring at the old carpet on the floor, left to him from the former dwellers.

He looked at this carpet for so long that at some point it just floated in front of his eyes. Roma shaken his head, causing a spark of enthusiasm for the hammermen, but the carpet did not think to get in order. He, on the contrary, swung stronger and stronger, then a wave passed through him, and suddenly a yellow bone hand appeared from under the edge of the carpet.

If Rome were not in such a deplorable state, it would have been enough for condrations. And so he only cuddled and silently watched how the bone hand scratched on the floor, then the carpet swelled even stronger, and behind the hand from under him appeared a gray broken head.

Hello Olga Vitalievna! Suddenly, even for himself, Roma suddenly spoke with a sewed voice.

The head shaken, frozen for an instant, and then as suddenly as it appeared disappeared under the carpet. A hand disappeared behind her, and then the carpet, shaking, took its usual position. Then came silence.

From a minute, Roma was lying, coming back, then jumped sharply, and ran around the house, stretching his pants on the go. “This is an old car! He put himself under his nose. Here is the bubble! Here is you and your home! Oh Olga Vitalievna! Give it to me!” Finally, he attached his pants, and pulled his legs into the shoes and jumped out of the door.

In order to get to the neighbor, he had to pass two cylinders and escape the palace. The neighbor was not locked. Roma knocked the door and walked into the house without knocking. Olga Vitaliovna, as in nothing, sat comfortably at the table by the window, and drank tea from a plate with sugar for a snack. The dish in the old lady's hand smelled odorfully, and the sugar she skillfully crushed to the pain by the familiar Romans.

Oh my romance! - joyfully cried Olga Vitalievna to the neighbor frozen in the door. How good you came in! I feel so bad today, I could barely get from bed to table. My bread is over, I don’t know what to do. Are you going to the store? If you gather, buy me, be a friend. Are you not at work, are you sick?

Roma stood and looked stupidly at the beetles in the old lady’s hand. All the words he had prepared while he was running, went somewhere.

I did not go to work. He burst out. Something breaks the head.

It is all weather! It was stated by Olga Vitalievna. Transmitted on TV.

Instead of answering, Roma turned and went out.

He went into the store, bought bread for the old lady, minerals and what foods for himself, and all the way thought about how obvious the puzzle was. After all, he was told about the lounge and the common basement under the house, but he missed this unnecessarily by his ears. He also thought that immediately upon his return he would take the nails, the hammer, and intentionally hit the entrance to the basement to the devil's mother.

Then he brought bread to his neighbor, who was still sitting in the kitchen by the window, and went home. The cowboy in his head again began his shock work, and it would have been necessary to go to the pharmacy for pills, but the strength was no longer, I wanted to get to the couch soon and lie down. Rushing into the hallway, Roma looked into the kitchen to leave the foods, and suddenly froze as if he had been digged.

Your own mother! He broke in his hearts.

In the kitchen, right in the middle of an empty table, was a package of aspirin.

Rocket (with his permission)

You didn’t even notice that I changed the tire!
I noticed
I have not changed!

The lazy is not Moska, the lazy is strong, the lazy will fall and the elephant!

© Dmitry Sviridov

Don’t throw away food at school.
I work at a small Canadian school. A boy from a Pakistani family throws his sandwich, wrapped in foil, into a garbage can.
Did you make a sandwich? Why are you throwing him out?
and yes. I just don’t want, I don’t like.
Don’t throw away food in our school.
I open up in the teacher's room my clothes with a simple lunch - there is no time to prepare in the morning for myself, to have time to leave lunch for the household. I remembered how my grandmother, a radio engineer and inventor, told me how much she wanted to eat in the evacuation in Barnaul, how she saw a piece of bread on the ground and stood over it in the thought of whether to pick up or not. Like his grandfather, he was also an engineer, making plastic jars, which he sold or exchanged on the local market for food. And as my grandmother and my little mother waited for him to return from a business trip, and when she saw him, the grandmother fell on the stairs into hungry fainting.
Now it is fashionable in schools to talk about the shortage of fresh water and the high density of starving populations in Africa and on various other continents. They urge to save water at home and eat less meat. But for some reason, food is thrown away by everyone – children of any skin color and speaking in a variety of languages at home.
Here a child from a Russian family, barely biting a large apple, throws it into a basket, and so almost every day.
“Hello, Vania doesn’t eat the apples you give him with you.
Don’t eat if you don’t want to. They are probably acidic.
Okay, then let’s not, please leave them at home.
And I don’t even remember how I went to the line at 4 a.m. in the early 1990s to buy a cup of kilograms of sugar, or how we cooked powdered potato blenders from packets for a ruble, and with onions for one and a half. And I don’t even think of the fact that I still don’t allow myself to first open a new chocolate tile or take the last piece of anything there from the common dish, although no one is miserable or hungry. But my mother told me that after the war, when she was 6-7 years old, she was often in line for bread and other necessary foods to get them on the cards while her parents were at work. Her hands were printed with numbers that were well preserved if written with a chemical pencil – so she knew her number in every row in which she stood. One day she had all the cards with her for the next month, and something terrible happened – either she stole them, or they were stolen, but she returned home without the cards. Her parents did not mock her, silently looked at each other, and there was a fear in her eyes - how to live the next month? But the extraordinary thing happened – the next day the card system was canceled!
Don’t throw away food at school.

Elena (aka Strange Girl)

My girlfriend thinks the new Apple product is a great gift for the New Year.
Thank you, Apple, for removing this headache, I don’t have to think about what to give it anymore.
We are separating.

The boy (7th grade) asks for advice on what to talk to the girls. I'm telling him about topics that girls are interested in:

Do not exaggerate your taste. Maybe she loves cabbage and broccoli? And you will talk about meat, she will be uninterested, and then the conversation will not work out.

(I noticed that he was distracted and looked at the cat.)

Do you listen to me? Repeat what I said.

Dad, I hear it all. If she loves cabbage and broccoli, then the conversation will not work!