Good deception begins with half-truth.

About the issue of divorce on the phone. What there was the IRS - I was hit here "from the VTB support service": a robot with a well-established voice, Igor Kirillov, with a tragic voice, what I had (oh horror, horror!) The credit card is blocked and I need (already with the metal in the voice and the press) to immediately call back to the support service on the determined phone. At first I simply ignored the calls, put the numbers in the block list, but then the number of calls per day exceeded the limit of decency, and I was given free time. I put a plate of seeds in front of me (I don’t like popcorn) and put a watch in front of me. He answered with a “shy” voice. I regret, the imagination of generating stupid questions around the given topic, ohms, breaths, jokes, additions, old-age whistling and "leaving" from direct requests to tell the number of your card ("you should know yourself" - a taboo) I only had enough for 8 minutes, although I planned to stay 15. At the next stone of a young man who was already boiling, but did not lose hope, demanding to tell him the number of the card, that "he could help me," I took a deep breath and, as soon as I could, said that "but this is not understandable to me, practically inexplicable to me, and that most confuses me in this difficult story, although in 1975 I had almost the same story (here is an insert of the story about the sberkass in Urupinsk, "on Lenin's street, what was there about in the middle, on the left, you know? How not? Then I will tell you...” which, however, I could not clearly shake up until the end) because I just don’t have any of the most collapsing VTB cards, which I am very sad about.” The pause on the other side before dropping the line was long and magnificent. The phone did not answer, the calls did not repeat.

Dmitry Rogozin flew to the landing site of the "Union".
I had to leave Roscosmos.

I live in South Korea. I stayed in the motel for a few days. I have a cherry on my foot. As a man of old hardening, I trust ancient remedies, so I treated the wound with Vishnevsky ointment, which I carried with me, glued it with a patch and fell asleep. And in the morning I found that the bandage was asleep and the dark green, brown ointment was slightly smeared on the snow-white bed.

I think okay. Change by evening.

In the evening I come back, and really the bed changed, and in addition to the bed, in the area of the ass, I laid a cloth... There was still a butterfly on the tub. The shameful...

My friend went on a trip to Obninsk. I decided to connect the local simka. He enters a communication room.

and hello. I want to connect to the local network.

Good morning, please get your passport.

The girl takes a passport, leaps to the page with registration, raises her eyes and says:

We cannot connect you.

Known with confusion:

Why is? ? to

“Because you are registered in Kamchatka, and this is not Russia.

...... ? to What is this?

I do not know.

- Girl, open the first page, there in Russian is written "Citizen of the Russian Federation"!

No, we will not sign a contract, take your passport.



Connected to the neighboring room. The foreigner EPA.

Here you are even afraid to raise the voice on the official, and Kokorin and Mamayev decided to raise the chair!

I’ll tell you a cat’s story. Sometimes it can?

When I was a student, we had a cat at our college. Ordinary such, grey striped. They called her Docente (women’s gender from “docent” in Lithuanian). What is the name of the university cat? Especially one who likes to attend lectures, exams and accounts.

We met her on the day I came to take my first entrance exam - the history of the USSR. I was nervous, of course. I was worried. But when I entered a small, sun-filled audience, I saw that a cat was comfortably arranged on a wide window and was washed in nothing. The spectacle was so home-friendly that all the nervousness evaporated somewhere, and the exam passed surprisingly easily and calmly. Especially because the examiners were rarely kind. Per the cat also acted calmly on them?

When the school year began, we saw that Docente loved lectures and preferred to have as many people as possible. In the audiences there were long old banks-party, where five or six people sat. The cat was usually arranged between two students and slept, listening to the lecturer. Those she chose felt very polished and confessed, not forgetting to scratch her behind her ear from time to time.

She loved the subject of "Ancient literature". These lectures were held on Saturdays – the elderly professor who read them was, simultaneously, Minister of Higher and Secondary Special Education of the Lithuanian SSR. And by education he was a philologist-classic (Latin and ancient Greek). He loved his subject so much that even ministerial duties could not force him to refuse to teach his beloved Latin and ancient literature.

He seemed to have lived for these few Saturday hours all week and could not wait. Students felt and appreciated this – the lectures were extremely lively and entertaining. Despite Saturday morning, almost no one ever missed them.

The professor himself was a remarkable figure. High, wide-handed, with a lush grille of gray hair, always unusually elegant in a dark suit and a white shirt, and the voice is a deep rocky bass baritone. Two hundred people listened to the lecture without any stress, it was heard perfectly even in the furthest corners of the huge auditorium.

Sometimes the professor was fascinated and began to declare Latin or Greek hexameter, walking from window to door. (Steps helped hold the rhythm.) At the same time, he still raised his already powerful voice, and then his declaration began to ring the window windows.

The cat did not like it anymore. As soon as the poems began, she jumped off the bench and walked relentlessly through the passage, proudly holding her tail with a pipe. Arriving at the professor, she tore his trousers, as if advising to stop this noise, and then, without achieving the result, also hastily went to the exit. The professor, not stopping to declare, opened the door (the students grumbled - the lecture was interesting, but with the cat was somewhat cooler), released it and continued to step out.

The cat was also present at other classes. A teacher of German used it in grammar examples - Die Katze sitzt am Fenster.... A young and very enthusiastic teacher of vocabulary as an oral exercise offered to tell what a cat thinks about students or life in general - first-class students forgot about their shyness, and the stories sometimes turned out very funny... The tortured teacher of logic, pointing to the four-legged "free listener", urged students to listen to his lectures just as carefully...

Sometimes she was with us and in the reading room. In the long winter evenings, the circles of light from the lamps lay on the tables, and in silence only the pages shurched, and the cat murmured... The blessed sense of peace and peace in these evening hours was remembered after many years...

The librarians did not bother the cat at all. They only rejoiced in her presence – for books, mice pose a serious danger.

In the spring, cats were born. Three grey-banded, and one black with a white manic and in white socks.
- Such an educated lady, - the students pretended to crush, - and where was it, I wonder, she was able to find a couple? She needed a Cat Scientist, and there was probably just a cat...But where is it? Look at this cavalier.

The cat did not wait long and announced quite soon. A week or two later we found him in one of the small university courtyards, where he obviously decided to settle. A black valley beautiful man with white breasts sat on a height and thoughtfully looked around the surroundings. With the posture and expression of the face, that is, forgive me, the mouth, he reminded us of someone painfully. When I looked closer, I suddenly realized who it was.

The cat was called “Professor.”

As it turned out, Kokorin and Mamayev celebrated the end of the football career.

I was 18 years old. The Winter. I ran for a meeting with a girlfriend. My path was to the subway, and there is a small slope, well, and the sidewalk plate lies, as Sobyanevsky suggested. Slowly shorter. So here, and on the way my grandfather gets in my eyes, old and with a stick. I think I will help him. Or suddenly slide, there is a fracture of the hip neck, the hospital and the grandfather's cranes. I approach and ask:

Hi to you! I’m always polite to help you. I can lead you, or smoothly.

My grandfather was delighted, and in my hand was stuck an acky cloth. He said he was chewing at home and gave me the address. And happy, I know the address (with my topographic cretinism).

I know where it is. I live in the same house!

My grandfather was blooming. I carried him until I came in. And he says:

Here is thanks! Which entrance are you from? Could we meet?

Stay a lot??? What do you mean, grandfather?

Move to me.

I strongly refused. But now I regret, the apartments with the old grandfather on the road do not fall!

The human brain is so arranged that it constantly generalizes incoming information. Thanks to this ability we can learn quickly: we just show a couple of photos of the gepard, and we will know exactly how the gepard looks.

This same ability helped our species to survive, because generalization helped to identify and avoid danger. Dangerous animals, situations and so on. Everything has certain signs that our brain is trying to identify.

No one doubts that such signs as "sports suit", "seed slide", "sitting on the courts" can hide a danger. And we know that the hoops are worth bypassing.

But also, our brain doesn’t care what signs to identify. It can be both beard, ethnicity, and hair color, etc.

So, if the Chechens are not treated very well, it means that a sufficient number of their representatives behaved inappropriately, so the brains of other societies simply made a generalization.

It is just nature.

I sit, I don’t touch anyone, I fix the force. Suddenly the door ringed and I looked in the eyes of a neighbor. Immediately it is worth noting that my neighbor is gently speaking a woman who has gone, a post of the Balzac age. She’s one of those neighbors who scream “Naarcoman” and can’t sleep because of the music at 19: 00. I open the door and the neighbor says:

Your cat is screaming at my door! Go to clean!

I have no cat.

Who was joking then? ! to

Take care of your own petty affairs. to Goodbye.

I close the door and go into the room. After 10 minutes, again the door rings, I open, the same neighbor:

I took your cat’s shit on your shoulder and threw it under your door. You will clean yourself!

I squeeze down, and there is a piece of squeezed black isolant, I say:

It’s not shit, it’s a piece of isolation that I have nothing to do with. I still don’t have a cat.

You are HAM!

Then she finally left. About an hour later I came out on the street. I go downstairs and see the same neighbor on the staircase. Next to the unfortunate piece of the isolant, which lies already under another door into which, that is the force of our heroine.

When a woman beats her mouth, she cuts the fist on which she sits.

Grandma three days in a row buys a bucket of mushrooms on the market. Buy cool, recycle in the evening, buy cool again tomorrow - the winter is long, the family is big. In the mushrooms, the whole kitchen, the whole apartment was drained with mushrooms. The grandmother does not rest, on the third day again brings a bucket of mushrooms from the market. What to do? The little one can’t stand:

Did you buy these mushrooms again? Why do I think they’re called scammers?! to

In the light of the latest news, only one point remains unclear: will Kokorin and Mamayev visit Salisbury?

One day, at one auto forum, I decided that there was nothing to do to burn up over another fool who put a Chinese silencing pad on his budget car. I asked him, and Naphika did it at all. The opponent did not give me a single chance to scandalously continue the discussion, answering with the utmost sincerity:

I am a minor idiot. I don’t need a reason ?

It was 10 years ago. A boring day. We sit with a friend, he plays a counter, I sit in an agent, I rewrite, each is busy with his not very important business, a normal day with students in general.

His phone is ringing, not breaking away from the game for a long and sweet talk.

And I only hear all the moments of conversation and (thousands of thousands) the sounds of the game. What is it like - Hello, hello, a thousand thousand, yes, normal, and you, a thousand thousand, funny, a thousand.

He talked for 10 minutes, finished the conversation, and continued the war.

5 minutes later, without breaking away from the phone, with indifferent eyes I decided to ask.

Who was calling?

The girl (not even the game)

What did she want?

He left me, thousands of thousands.

I remembered history from my studenthood. There was a fourth-year worker in the community, who smashed all the first-year students and collected money from them. I remember doing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. And we, as pearls, at first often conflicted with him on this ground. On the third or fourth day from his side, we and a neighbor sent him to Yuh with direct text, after which a clash began right in the common kitchen. I, like a cannon-meat real hero, bound him with a struggle that quickly turned into a parter. You are naive, right? with a parrot in the parrot.

I don't know what a miracle, but I avoided the pain on my arm twice and saved my neck twice))

Plus, it was helpful that a friend was walking around us and hanging him a straw, not allowing me to break on the kitchen floor. And here, I turned successfully, closed the guard, and I try to press his hands to his body with my hands. In a slight panic, Comrade:

Volodya is crazy! Go fuck him!

He answered:

Good luck, keep it up!

It surrounds us around a circle and strikes a crushing blow with the leg straight... to me in the haru.

The stars burned in the turtle and the bell broke. I try to turn my face.

My root runs around our bodies again, tries to choose a favorable position, pulls my leg away... Again, it hits me in the board.

I shouted something like, “Fuck, better go away! “Then I got suffocated and left with relief.

That’s what I call the “your-foreign” system is working badly))

If they ban onanism, what will they do in Douma?

The story is not funny at all, but I want to tell it, since I first saw the difference between male and female character (psychology?). My sister and I studied in Leningrad and lived in a dormitory. I was 18, my sister was 20, and she was married. Her husband was also a young man of 22, but looked solid, with a red beard he had grown just for solidity. He had already served in the army, returned, but he did not find a job at the time better than a guard in our dormitory. The deviation is small - my sister and I grew up without a father and never imagined and never encountered how men can behave in everyday life, or in extreme situations.
The story itself is that one day my sister and I went out of the cinema in a fun foolish mood, and her husband was sitting on the watch that evening. So we decided to joke a little about him. The sister stayed outside, and I, leaving a frightened view on me, approached him, and I say that someone approached us and stood, I barely escaped, and your wife was there with him outside. Here my devil in a fraction of a second changes in the face, his eyes become just white, he catches out of the belt under the shirt a huge knife (I had no idea that he was wearing it at all), and the bullet flew out on the street. There is my sister, alone, naturally, and rocks. How he hurt us! “Two idiots! Are they joking about such things? Imagine for a moment that someone of your acquaintances would approach her, because I would kill him without thinking! Then I would sit down because of your foolish jokes.” It was a great lesson for me for the rest of my life! And then I realized how different we are, and that this immediate willingness to stand up for defense deserves endless respect. Feminists in note.

In the sport bar of Mahakkaly, 50 Dagestaners crashed into a TV hanging on the wall in an attempt to jump out on the ring.