The car's left rear wheel collapsed.
The next day’s decree: “All cars have to check the rear left wheels.”
So we live...

Why should the stomach suffer because the ass, you see, grows?

It was today. He approached the house, turned on the side path to the nursery, began to tie the big. A three-and-a-half-year-old girl passed by on a selfie, in an extremely good mood and in full motion. I hear a terrible cry from behind the order of the deceased mother:
Masha is standing! The car is going!! to

I turned around, it goes. It’s already over 40 meters. And the driver is unlikely to see this girl behind the fence of the garden. And she doesn’t think of stopping.

This is a fucking place. Passing through, and the pedestrian have nowhere to hide. The sidewalk under the residential house opposite is parked cars in front of. Damn, of course, but hopeless throughout the city. On the other side of the road is a fence. The road is narrow, man and car cannot separate. When the car appears, it remains to look for "bags", such as the nearest entrance or such an exit from the garden. However, this road is in a quiet courtyard, cars rarely pass here. But this gives rise to dangerous carelessness when you are three years old and your soul is full of delight. Where is this idiot right under the wheels? My mom is good, from the same cloth.

I exploded and I followed a girl, giant jumps. In a group race with my parent, I was five meters ahead of her, and continued to confidently increase the distance, but it was not easy to catch up with the damned car. The Saviour of Fuck.

In response to the repeated desperate scream, “Stand, do you not see anything?” She finally replied offended:
I see!

A dialogue has been established! But he did not decrease the speed. I soon realized that the girl was silent before, just thinking about how to formulate an intuitively understandable thought in a new language for her. In anger for the reproach that she doesn't see the shit before her, she finally woke up with the right words:
The blue wheel is swollen! In the back of aunt Elia. She is definitely floating.

Masha finished his observations, already turning to the road and headed to this car in the frontal attack. The feelings did not deceive her. Unknown aunt Irah raised her hand out of the window and welcomed her. Then I turned, who could think, right. And Masha went on the free road with celebration. I am still worried about the heart of my mother who ran past me. I think the world for Masha seems to be filled with huge, caring, but terribly dull adults.

Hello to the police! I was kidnapped by aliens.
Are you drunk?
Yes, it coincided so.

Who does not know how to enjoy life, happiness is for nothing.

I am now in the tram, a guy with a guitar enters the tram, the doors are closed and the tram driver speaks:
- A young man, who has been begging for the third year with the same composition, during this time could already get to work or at least learn a new composition. If you are not taken to work anywhere, come to work already for the usual position for you, a conductor!

Everything seemed normal. The struggle began after the words "The semantics of ethudism in Prishvin's prose is ambiguous."

How easy it is to forgive a bastard who has tortured you!

Moscow Mathematical Olympiad:

The reward of the rewarded, not rewarded,
The event takes place on Wednesdays from 15 to 19 in room 207.”

https://olympiads.mccme.ru/mmo/2015/zakr.htm

What is the morality of the tale “The Bell”?
Even if you have a crust, ride more carefully.

If you don’t see what’s happening around you, it doesn’t mean that those around you don’t see what you do.

I work in a clothing store. A boy comes in with his mother and says, "Give this beautiful girl the best dress, she's birthday today, I'm crying!" I put 120 rubles on the box and with an important look stood waiting for my mom to pick something. At the entrance was my father. He showed gestures that we would sell the dress for those 120 rubles, and he would then come and calculate. very cute.

From the testimony of Yulia Skripal: "When I bought a strawberry in Peterochka, I was still surprised - why Putin himself is there at the box office?"

Our business partner (a lawyer by profession) does not tolerate phone spammers, because his direct mobile hangs on the site like a contact phone.

The Standard Spam Call:

SPAMER: Hello, can I talk to an employee who submits tax reports in your company?

Partner: We do not submit tax reports.

C: How is it? And the accounting?

Q: We are working black, without reports. We don’t need an accountant.

Q: What if I call the tax office?

Q: We will come to you and shoot you.

There were no more questions.

A couple of months ago I did repairs, some of the items I bought myself, including a hammer and a perforator. After the repair a couple of times borrowed to the neighbors, but soon sold because of unnecessity. Today comes a neighbor and asks to borrow a buyer, I answer that I did not sell. The neighbor's eyes are 5 copies. How sold it? Why didn’t he say! I have already called the master. I promised that the next time I decided to sell something, I would definitely consult him. I didn’t appreciate humor :(

We are not interested in the gold party. Can you tell who and at what price gave up the iron curtain?

From the stories of the “movements” of the construction workers.

After the first course, we, real yet children, with the unbeaten until the end consciousness of my sons, sent to the construction team to the distant Volodovskiy. To build a railway either to forestry farms, or to the areas of Kotlas and the surrounding area. The headquarters of the detachment was confused - where to send this young shellfish, so as not to confuse it under the feet of the zombies of the summer shabash. And by his naivety, he did not go where it was necessary to assign and steal the headquarters. Fortunately or unfortunately for them, some local forestry company asked a group of students to put them on a remote site with a barrel for shooters and trucks. whom? Here are the ones to exercise. And here they bring the child to a remote pick-up, load them out a potato tank, a box of potatoes, point their finger to the shell where they live and the other finger to the place where in a week the shell should stand. Removing the hand, they say - the forest and the columns of the tam, the wire to turn here, the boards and the shiffer to remove from those cabins. We take in a week. and wrapped. We remained alone. As they arranged, they built a mangal and went to look for pillars. Probably not on that side. Now we realize that what we found was not intended for the navy. These were LEP supports, stored together or simply hidden by someone until the better times. But an order is an order. It is said to do, it must. That this fucking unbearable weight - did not make anyone think at all. On the contrary, we are physics engineers of the future. From the pipes of the destroyed water pump made a railway, on it placed rolls from a rotten tractor, drawn on paper in cells a plan. and forward.
They forgot about us. I came to take the task in two weeks. They were met by a gang of bearded swollen from the bites of mosquitoes and mosquitoes in the bats, left of the beautiful forms of the construction workers at first, and behind their back stood THIS! The giant size of the heroin with a height of 20 meters, covered with a thick wall of rust iron with balancers from the wind load (we are physicists crazy). Oh yeah, just spoke the director of the Lespromhoza. There was a slang from the staff of the surrounding areas. Probably we’ve hit the chairman’s ass. Overall it ended well. At our anchor, locals first conducted excursions, and then adapted for the storage of left-handed pile materials and helicopters. They paid us 300 rubles and sent us away from our sins to our mothers. Only then we left as boys, and came as fighters, men who did their men's hard work for the first time. It was a construction team.

“Hurra, comrades, Christ has risen!”! to
Wait, the stranger has risen. Our in a week.

Interesting truth, not an opinion about it.

The best teacher

At the beginning of the school year, the class leader of the 6th grade stood in front of her former fifth grade students. She looked at her children and said that she loved them all equally and was happy to see them. It was a big lie, because behind one of the front sides, crumbling in pieces, there was a boy who the teacher did not like.
She met him, as well as all of her students, in the last school year. She noticed that he didn’t play with classmates, was wearing dirty clothes and smelled like he’d never washed. Over time, the teacher's attitude toward this student became worse and came to the point that she wanted to scratch all his written works with a red pen and put a unit.

Once, the student asked to analyze the characteristics of all students since the beginning of their education in school, and the teacher put the case of an unloved student to the very end. When she finally reached him and unwillingly began to study his characteristics, she was stunned.

The teacher who was leading the boy in the first class wrote, “This is a brilliant child, with a radiant smile. Do homework carefully and carefully. It’s a pleasure to be next to him.”

A second-grade teacher wrote about him: “He is an excellent pupil, appreciated by his comrades, but he has problems in the family: his mother is ill with an incurable illness, and his life at home must be a struggle with death.”

A third-class teacher said: "The death of his mother hit him very hard. He does his best, but his father is not interested in him and his life at home may soon affect his education if nothing is done."

The fourth grade teacher wrote: "The boy is optional, does not show interest in studying, has almost no friends and often falls asleep right in the classroom."

After reading the characteristics, the teacher became very ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when, on New Year’s Eve, all the students brought her gifts wrapped in a glossy gift paper with bands. The gift of her unloved student was wrapped in a rough brown paper. Some children started laughing when the teacher took out a bracelet, which lacked a few stones, and a bottle of perfume, filled a quarter.

But the teacher suppressed laughter in the classroom, shouting, “Oh, what a beautiful bracelet! - and, opening the bottle, sprinkled a little spirit on her wrist. On that day, the boy stopped after the lessons, approached the teacher and said, "Today you will smell like my mother smelled.

When he left, she was crying a long time. From that day on, she refused to teach only literature and mathematics, and began to teach children goodness, principles, and sympathy. After some time of such training, the unloved student began to return to life. At the end of the school year, he became one of the best students.

Despite the fact that the teacher repeated that she loved all the students equally, she really appreciated and loved only him.

A year later, when she was already working with others, she found a note under the door of the classroom where the boy wrote that she was the best teacher he had ever had.

It took another five years before she received another letter from her former student; he told her that she had graduated from college and was estimated to be third in the class, and that she continued to be the best teacher in his life.

Four years passed and the teacher received another letter where her student wrote that, despite all the difficulties, she would soon be graduating from the university with the best grades, and confirmed that she is still the best teacher he has ever had in his life.

Four years later, another letter arrived. This time he wrote that after graduating from university he decided to improve his level of knowledge. Now before his name and surname was the word doctor. And in that letter he wrote that she was the best of all the teachers he had in his life.

The time went. In one of his letters, he told me that he had met a girl and married her, that his father died two years ago and asked if she would refuse to take the place where the bridegroom’s mother usually sits at his wedding. Of course, the teacher agreed.

On the day of her student's wedding, she wore the same bracelet with the missing stones and bought the same perfumes that reminded the once unhappy boy of his mother. They met, hugged, and he smelled the native.

Thank you for your faith in me, thank you for giving me a sense of need and importance and for teaching me to believe in my own strength, for teaching me to distinguish between good and bad.

The teacher with tears in her eyes replied:

You are wrong, you have taught me everything. I didn’t know how to teach until I met you.