Sophia, can you tell me how you met your mom?
I was working at the pharmacy then, and he came for condoms and asked for the size of XXXL... And then after the wedding I found out that this pot is getting stuck...

I have a son, almost 5 years old.

They went to play with his aunt and ran away from her. He calls his wife in tears, looking for her. The woman comes out of the entrance, and here the runner is sitting on the bench. I went to my grandmother, and my grandmother, let's mock, you can't say that, I was scared, worried, and if I die?

The little one replied:

No problem, I have a grandmother.

My grandmother’s response to the second candidate was barely enough.)

About a year after the wedding they fought with their wife (young, hot, stupid because of some small hernia). She left things in her bag and, knocking loudly at the door, went to her mother. After an hour, she came back and said her mother didn’t let her go. I already knew about it, since my aunt called me and stated-I married? We live with her, we live with her, we live with her, we live with her, we live with her.

Here are such "rough" northern hardening parents of my wife, so we have lived with her for 17 years.

They love to be surrounded by zero.

American artist Hugh Troy (1906-1964), a famous illustrator of books and a great lover of games, served as a chancellor in one of the army training camps during the Second World War. He was plagued by the need to fill out a huge number of forms, information and reports. As a protest, he invented a special report on the number of flies caught in the officer’s dining room. He sent a report to the Pentagon on a daily basis. Day after day these reports went to the Defense Ministry until the inevitable happened: someone in the Pentagon wondered why only one training company sends such a report? Where are the others? Do some officers neglect their duties?
One day, two officers from another unit approached Troy and asked him if he knew what the report about the flies they had caught was required from them.
Of course, I know,” replied Troy. I send my report every day.
After hearing his story, the officers that they had not been sent the corresponding forms and they did not know how to report for the fly. Then the artist offered them forms, independently printed on the rotator, and showed them how to fill them. So the number of papers coming to the Pentagon immediately increased. As far as we know, generals began to demand such reports from other parts. However, how this story ended is unknown: the Pentagon archives relating to this time are still classified.

The Ministry of Health has promised to make vaccination against the coronavirus voluntary. At the same time, they promised that the fines for refusing voluntary vaccination will not be higher than for violating voluntary self-isolation.

I once, sorry, struck the most precious woman’s place with cowards. She went to the pharmacy and asked for a baby cream to ease her suffering. He even explained the area of defeat. Who knew that this fox would give me a baby cream with mint?!? Sadist to fucking. In the eve of relief, I smeared without looking at the packaging... The feeling was, gently speaking, so to myself. I do not recommend. Zero of stars. I wanted to go and write a complaint on her the next day, but I couldn’t go.

I was born and raised in Ufa, Republic of Ufa. of Bashkortostan. The city is one of 15 million-dollar cities of Russia, among other things. Then he moved to live in Moscow.

The most popular issues in employment and not only:

1st Ufa is what country?

2nd Do you have a work permit in Russia?

Three Is Ufa Kazakhstan?

4 is Ufa is where Tatarstan is.

There was another case. A colleague in full seriousness, with a little sadness in the eyes and sympathy in the voice, once asked me: do you live there in the jurts?

in the subject. For those who remember. In the Soviet Union, the cream for shoes was produced exclusively in black color, but it was called "Rainbow".

Summer snow cleaning tenders announced in Nizhny Novgorod

Finally in the city came truly summer days: on the street +34 degrees, the sun shines brightly, with a special force baking the heads of the lower towns. Well, and once these things are behind the window, the road drivers decided that it is time to do the business: it is time to remove the snow.
In this case, by the way, a large contract on state procurement has already been allocated.

According to the documents of application No. 32009293806, posted on the portal on July 3, 2020, the contractor will have to clean snow and snow from the territory of motorways and adjacent pavements. It is planned to spend only about 15 million rubles.
At the same time, all the snow and all the snow on the low-city roads need to have time to clean up before August 31, 2020!
We wish the downtown roadmen success in their heroic work.

I have the feeling that on the night of January 1, people will not so much welcome the New Year as to spend the old 2020...

My husband and I are in the car, it rains.

I’m a frog, I need to change.

My husband yes. and brakes.

I am, but the houses are

My husband, phlegmatically - ah. We need to see where we go without brakes.

xxx: A long time ago, 10 years ago (maybe a little less), I worked in the security, at one enterprise, which is now in our Zadrypinsk, almost a monopoly on the Internet. I always preferred dull work, as you can read, shake and if you need to sleep, and experience drops to everything.



Well, it fits me like a person at work who sits on a relatively important position as an engineer and says:

Agent, do you need to work out your profile?

Why not get fired.

You need to be in one of the “currently operating enterprises” to sit down.

-Nie, I will not pull on two jobs, we are also fed well here)

For a month and a half altogether.

Where is the previous one and why do they not take the permanent one? ! to

- And they have a girl in this position for this time on vacation, she does not play, it is necessary to scratch Augie's barracks.

Why don’t they take the normal job?

A bearded uncle in a sweater with deer for such a salary will not suck from the management)))



Here I fell into a precipice and seriously re-evaluated life values.



Worked and stayed? Was the girl fired?

I gave the child a laptop, played in the developers, went to the kitchen. In a few minutes, I hear a whistle with a characteristic sound of flying plastic. I run into the room, praying for myself: “Not just a laptop! “Though there is little hope. In the room, the child sits, like nothing else, with a note on his knees.

What did it fall with such a hustle?

The toy machine fell out of the closet.

I thought it was a laptop.

- No, Mom, the laptop groove is quite different...

- O_O

This story happened a long time ago, in 1985. I don’t remember it, just some pictures. I know this story much more not from my memories, but from the stories of my parents.

We interrupted the road, or the pipes were changing, or something else – there was a deep pit, well, the earth was rolling that, there, here. We, the other children, around this pit, my parents nearby talk about something. So then.

A motorcyclist flies at an enormous speed, and whether it is a stone from excavating it to him under the wheel, or it is a whirlwind to get around - it is not a matter, it flies off the motorcycle, it flies in a cube, the motorcycle on the road cutting scars bounces. And some shit from a motorcyclist flies away and flies into the same hole, falls. My daughter and I followed the hernia that flew away, the adults let us help the motorcyclist, pulled him off to the stop, trying to provide first aid.

We quickly found what flew away in the pit, we get to the motorcyclist.

“Uncle, here’s your prosthesis, and we stretch him... his leg below his knee. And the uncle is in shock, white and unconscious.

There was such a subject - "Ecology", which is not needed for our specialty. As a result, few people visited him. The groupman walked all the pairs, did not come to the bill (why I don't remember), and somewhere a couple of weeks later went to negotiate to the department about the transfer. And in his trouble there was only this lead, leading our ecology. Then there was such a conversation:

A: Good morning, and the Prepodovich is possible?

Q: Why is he for you?

A: Yes, about the transfer to agree.

Q: What about ecology? Why did they not give up immediately?

A: It couldn’t be on account.

Q: Did you attend lectures and practices?

A: Yes, it was almost everybody.

Q: Well, you know, he flew to the U.S. not before the autumn.

The man was upset and left. The fact that he talked to the desirable predecessor learned only in a week)))

It is not terrible when the minority controls the majority. If this minority is genius and smart.

It is terrible when a foolish flock of bulls begins to teach their concepts to a tiny bunch of intelligent people.

I have a funny story about how we twice became ugly, ugly relatives. My grandmother had five sisters and a brother. All of them, due to the circumstances of life, travelled throughout the country, then the USSR. I went to my grandmother to rest. She had a private home in Sevastopol. My grandmother is an incredibly good-soul man, giving himself all his life to everyone but himself. She welcomed guests in any number, feeding, drinking and washing them all. I remember my childhood and courtyard, full of aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces and other relatives in the number of at least 15-20 people per summer. The guests did the same thing as all the vacationers - ate, slept and went to the sea. Grandma at this time went to work, then came, cooked food for everyone, cleaned and washed. No one offered special help, yes, except for the little things.
One day, when she saw her sister rolling on the bed, she asked her to help her in the kitchen. My sister replied, I did not come here to work, but to rest. And then the grandmother broke - she spoke about their behavior and literally in an hour expelled them all and never attracted anyone else, although at first many were still trying to get to a hideous rest. Then the grandmother through her tenth hand heard that all her relatives cursed her, saying that she was a villain, since she did so to them. Grandma, by the way, for a long time (and probably still until now) very much experienced this moment (she recently told me that secretly, in the hope of establishing a connection, she wrote letters to the sisters, but no one ever replied).

And here, since the moment of that conflict, it has been 15 years, my grandmother's house, on her wish, I sold, bought her an apartment and we began to live and live, leaving the new owners of the house grandmother's phone for the case. One day my grandmother calls me and tells me that the new owners have called and complained that a bunch of our relatives have come and are sitting with them near the house in their suitcases, demanding to find us and refusing to leave. The grandmother had all these memories, plus she, again by her kindness, did not want to cause inconvenience to the new master. In general, I was sent to our old house for dismantling.

I come and really - near the house on the suitcases are seated 7 completely unfamiliar people, of them 4 children. I imagine them, I ask what happened and immediately the adults jump up, fly to me and start, interrupting each other, screaming:

We came here and you even sold the house! How could you??? Why have we not been informed??? We sent you letters (later I learned from the owners - there were no letters), and you were all the same fools, not even a new address left, we had to sit here in the heat with the children for 3 hours while waiting for you. Laden your suitcases and go.

Wait for me, gentlemen. First of all, who are you? And why do you treat completely unfamiliar people, threatening them with the siege of the home? Where do I have to take you somewhere?

“I,” cried the man out of the crowd, “by the way, your uncle. And this is my wife, and this is her friend, and this is our children, your, by the way, native blood. I went where you live there, really I don’t want to go into the apartment, I hope you bought another house...

“Well, my native blood, I can tell you how to call a taxi and go to a hotel. And I advise the owners to call the police if you do not leave their territory. All good...

Further, there were many screams, I will drop them, because their essence was that they were going to us intentionally and no other hotels (so-called - other hotels) they did not look for.

Well in the calice a new hostess appeared, tempted me with the finger, or I thought I was right there being hit with suitcases and thrown away with children...

Going into the yard to talk to the owners and apologize to them, I heard in the back - exactly the apple from the apple does not fall far away, as ugly as her grandmother. The same one? Worse than 100 times, what kind of shit we grew up, not in vain they all hate us...

I regret that the grandmother had to lie, saying that people confused the house, or otherwise she would start to oppress herself again, that she did not greet her mother as appropriate...

The Federation of Daughterhouses of Russia has appealed to the LGBT community with the request that they make their symbol the Borschevik. At least for one season.

From discussions of boring descriptions of films:

The guy just flew out of the bookcase and was thinking about space.

Yyy: The guy was watching his daughter, sitting behind the closet.

zzz: How drastically the genre of the film has changed))))