There was a fellow student with whom there was no connection for 20 years, if not more. I found my bikes on the internet and guessed that I was me. They chose time with him to post-talk, organized a video conference with a bottle on each side of the monitor.
How on its own? I ask. Like a child, like a child?

Elenka is Volodina’s wife, she also studied with us. They had such a love in high school – the walls were shaking. Literally shaken, neighbors in the dormitory witness.

Same is okay. There are three grandchildren, three grandchildren, and a fourth is planned. The elephant is dead.
Sorry, I did not know.
In general, this is a positive story. They lived long and happy and all that. When she became ill, her son was still in the ninth class and her daughter was in the sixth. They were late, we first bought an apartment, and then we took them. It was always checked on clocks, mammograms, tests and everything that was recommended. Olga is very organized. She kept a diary all her life, starting from eighth grade. From the hand, in such thick notebooks with springs. I bought these notebooks for 100 or 200 pieces and I recorded something every day. Not everybody, but once a week.

Well, it was checked, checked and suddenly - the crashes, immediately the third stage. They did MRI - there are also metastases, that is, the fourth. Doing the operation is meaningless, say goodbye. We are, of course, there and there, in this dispenser, in that, in Germany, in Israel. In Israel, such a Russian doctor says: "I can't cure it, it's late, but I will try to extend life. Do you want?” As in a hotel with hourly payment: “Will you extend?” – “We will” – “For how much?” – “For all!”

There is, says the doctor, a chemotherapy protocol, entirely new, just tested. Drop hell poison once every three weeks. At a price, of course, like the Crimean bridge. How much time to do? And for the rest of life, how much the body will endure. It lasts who year, who two, more than four so far has not been done. It is chemistry, not vitamins.

We signed up for this chemistry. Later it turned out that in Moscow it is also done, and even for free, by OMS. You just have to find the right doctor and convince him. Not really vitamins. I understand why people don’t last long. On the day of droplessness, the feeling is normal. The second day was bad. And from the third to the seventh, only to die sooner. Nausea suddenly turns out, all organs and even bones hurt, it is impossible to breathe, all joints are broken, all mucous membranes are inflamed and bleed, neither to sit nor to lie down, neither to eat nor to drink, nor vice versa. And then two weeks like nothing, until the next dropper.

And in this mode she lived not a year, not two, not even four, but almost eleven. Three dissertations were written on it, doctors came to see from other cities – a unique case. She cried that he would not see how Yurk would finish school, and he had time to finish the institute, get married and have two children. Yulia graduated from the university and married her mother. I and Olynka visited half the world, all the theatrical premieres were all touring. Previously, everything was postponed, it was spent on repairs, then on future cars-apartments for children, and then I didn't care about the money. There are them, there are not them – I am a man, I will earn. If you want to go to Paris, go to Paris. You just need to guess to fly off on the eighth or ninth day after the dropper, and return to the next. Choose a route without physical activity. We didn’t have to go to Kilimanjaro, but we went to Kenya on a safari. There is good, the car is lucky, the giraffes themselves climb the window.

“Woloda,” I ask, “why do you think Olya lasted so long and others couldn’t?” Others also have children, everyone wants to stay with them longer. Just lucky or what?
Luckily of course. Plus the right lifestyle, there was good health before the beginning of chemistry. But the most important thing is her diary. She is responsible, every small thing has to be brought to an end. When the chemistry began, there were about a quarter of empty pages left in the next notebook. And when she cried that she could no longer, that she would refuse the next chemistry, that it was better to die than to suffer so much, I told her, "Here, write this notebook to the end, and then I will let you go, die for health." And the notebook did not end and did not end, so it remained printed for three quarters.
How is it?
Do you remember the story “The Last Letter”? There, the girl decided that she would die when the last leaf of plush fell out of the window. But he did not fall, and she also held on and eventually recovered. And then I learned that this last sheet was not real, the artist painted it on the wall.
I remember this story in English school.
We too. Well, I decided, what am I worse than that artist? I’ll give her the last note too. I slowly inserted clean sheets at the end of the notebook. And the written out of the middle was removed, so that the notebook did not appear too thick and always had three-fourths of the written out, a quarter empty. She gradually guessed that there was something dirty here, but didn’t find out anything. I saw it as a small miracle. So I wrote this last quarter of the notebook for eleven years.

Listen, I am a type of writer. I wonder how people feel when death is so close. What was there in that notebook?
Nothing on this topic. If you read it, you won’t even know that she was sick. She wrote about Paris, about giraffes. That Yulka has five, and Yurk seems to have a quarrel with a girl. A recipe for broccoli soup.
Can I post this story on the internet?
and valley.
You know, people don’t like the negative. They want stories to end well. Should I write that she is dead? As if we were talking to you not now, but when Olya was still alive. I conclude with the fact that she is 57, and that 58 will never be, I will be silent.
What is the difference? What if you don’t write that she’s dead, people will think she’s immortal? Readers are not fools, they will understand that this is still a story with a happy ending.
“You don’t understand, Volod, the principles of network literature. But it’s your business, I’ll write as it is.

Here I wrote. I dedicate this story to the bright memory of O.A. Jeremy.

The State Duma unified the laws “On the valet” and “On the rubber” into a single law “On construction”.

The daughter in the cartoon heard the phrase "I am crazy about love" and decided to find out this issue with us. I sit with my wife and eat lunch. The girl approaches and asks:

“Daddy, did you go crazy right after you saw your mom, or did you get crazy after you got married?

Last week I sat in the framework, I wrote an application for a vacation, in the neighboring office (doors open) the master, Tanya, a woman of 35, talks with a newly adopted cotton of forty:

“Andrew, can you go out tonight?

I can’t work at night, I have supervision.

In other words, what kind of supervision?

I was released recently.

I understand. What was he sitting for?

for murder.

Not easier yet. Will you not kill us?

The man thought for ten seconds and replied:

and no.

No thanks in your pocket.
Thank you, it doesn’t even fit in the safe.

In the courtyard in 1991. The son of a Moscow businessman was abducted. I will not tell all the details, only a few details. When transferring money to the intermediary for the hostage ($6,000, at the time a fairly large amount), my task was to stop in the taxi cab (from a nearby bandit called with a message that the money was in his possession) and by clicks of the rotating disk (plus looking) to count the number, transfer it to the technical service for the "through address".
Today, Sasha’s daytime was attended by an employee of the technical department of the Vimpel unit, who worked with us very often (they had and remain the best technical equipment). So, 30 years later, today he decided to ask the question that tormented him all these years: “WHOW????” You did it wrongly, right?” The violin’s musical hearing, visual attention and, of course, responsibility for the hostage’s life.
So we worked.
The boy was released a few hours later, his father later sent him away from sin to London, and I wrote with this guy for another ten years.
Yes is. As a gift from the father of the liberated boy, she received Poison perfumes, over which she cried, because she believed that she did not deserve them, but only performed her professional and official duty. The boy’s father disagreed. I gave my perfume to my mom.
This is how my music education in the class of scripture helped me.

Elena Rifenschtal

And you also have clothes hanging in the closet that you do not wear, and the one you wear hangs on the back of the chair, on the door, on the back of the bed, in general, anywhere but not in the closet?

Do you want your descendants to remember you? Buy kids ice cream more often.

I came across the story of a taxi driver with Tomik Blavatsky in his hand. And here I remembered.
I sit in a sex shop, I do not touch anyone, in the sense of no buyers. The evening already. And suddenly a man, forty years old, runs with a phone in his hand.
I found this on your website, but I did not understand the size. - And shows a photo with a lesbo, - Can you see it in nature?
If anyone does not know, it is like two fallos, spinning in different directions from the place of growth.
I show him a window, there are four pieces. The size is about one, the material is different. He weighed them in his hand, picked a pink gel, "This will be heavier, and gray."
I go to the box and he says:
"I am not intended, just you can't drive a real shovel with you, without anything too, I gave it to one person who refused to pay, they barely landed there, and here, a hundred percent, that it's not a weapon, and nobody will go into the mistake, who will make himself confess to people that he's been fooled."

“The transfer was done, but we did not take into account the commission of the Tinkoff Bank.” Minfin revealed the cause of the default.

I remembered how I met with my general director, entered the network of cellular communications salons, worked for a couple of weeks and not that the bosses, colleagues from other points did not see everyone in the face. In general, in the next of the days goes into the store some man, a couple of minutes looking at the window with phones, then approaches me with the words "I am such such as Takitovich, your general manager, I should have the phone ready, let it here", well I am not a fool said, I see you at all the first time, I am waiting for the elder in the store, then I will give the phone. The man, of course, stopped, but began to wait until I first called the elder and when he came to the store with the bullet. As it turned out, it was indeed the general manager, and well he turned out to be an adequate person, even praised for caution.

Do not hit a man with a gun.

48 for my mother. And I remember 7 years old, and my mom 29, it’s the reverse count, then I didn’t think about it. And she, in the summer, in a blue dress in flowers, holds me by the hand, and we go through the sunny yard, and I know that I have a very beautiful mother, and I am happy madly, and proud. That is all. Such a bright memory from 1979. Mommy in a summer dress, the sun that shines through the leaves of huge topols, and just happiness.

I have lived with Russia all thirty years of reforms! And you decided to scare me with some sanctions?

For some time, he lived in the suburbs of Madrid and went to a local marketplace. Standing in a line for meat, in front of me, a woman, apparently an immigrant of the CIS, fell into the insidious trap of the Spanish language. Pulling his finger on the chicken, he says to the seller, “Polla, please.” The seller, a typical Spanish Pedro, stretches in a smiling smile, clarifying with his buyer:

How much do you?

And a kilogram.

The Spanish people are fun, always happy to joke.

What do you want, with or without hair?

– Ricardo, do you have a kilo polla? He cried out to a neighbor’s fish seller.

Today, my wife is busy.

Under a wild whistle, a woman is given a chicken, and she leaves without realizing that the pollo is a chicken and the polla is a fox.

Xxx: List of used literature

The biggest lie of any student.

When I was studying at Doshafe, the instructor told me. He had meant one student, drove off the field, and here is the first exit to the city. Prepare to leave, and here the instructor remembers the documents forgotten on the table. He goes out of the car, goes to the docks, returns... No cars, no students. and panic. They jump into the cars and go looking for them. They find the untouchable quickly about a kilometer from the field. The car in the cube on the side. A student stands next to me. I was scared and bleak. When asked why she left alone, the answer was unexpected: “I wanted to surprise you.”

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End of the 90s. We sit with a girl at her house and argue. I say that the entire female sex is talking and can’t keep secrets. She said we are not like that. I say that I will go to the pharmacy now, do this and that, and then it will be seen.

The pharmacy was on the first floor, where our friend worked, more mine than my girlfriend. I introduced them. I buy a pack of condoms and in a conspiracy tone I say to my girlfriend that I don’t get broken. I go up to the third floor, open the door, my girlfriend looks at me, puts the phone on and silently goes into the room. has proved.

But right now I understand perfectly that the men in terms of balabolism, too, have not gone far.

The largest number in the world is the Chiclo Pi.