Paradox: even when Medvedev quotes Chekhov:
“The new year is as dumb as the old one, with the only difference that the old year was bad, and the new year is always worse.”
Most people still remember a very different classic quote:
“There are people who always say only smart and good words, but you still feel like they are stupid.”

Seafarers treat possible or impossible betrayals of wives calmly and philosophically. In this case, there are a number of standard answers. Is my wife cheating? So well, that means a healthy woman got in, and your problem? Or is he betraying? well well! So you still like men, and you, who are not lucky, no one wants?

There was such a case, the crew went on flight from its port in the Baltic Sea, in the North Sea died one main engine. had to return. There was no such connection then, the base knew and the relatives did not. Two or three days later, we came home at night.

None of the family members who lived in the city went home. Some had to walk 300 meters, so that they would not accidentally get their family. One of my acquaintances in this place story admired: Here are good men!

I am all this to the fact that my story is not a harsh investigation, but a fun joke.

Previously (now I don't know how) there was a clever battery on the rescue vests and a lamp attached to it. It was a human lighting system on board. The trick of the battery is that it started working only when sea water got inside. There were two holes with small traffic jams. As the darkness pulled the traffic jams out, the lamp burned.

One of the jokers pulled this piece out of his jacket and brought it home after the flight. The woman told this new Japanese tool to determine the sexual relationships of the last 3 months. I asked her to write in the box. Then I dropped the battery and the lamp burned.

And the wife broke her hand and said, "I forgive the vanilla only twice."

Erfurt Police (Germany) rescued two eggs who drank an egg liqueur from a broken bottle. They were taken to the zoo to shake them under the supervision of professionals.

WOW: In the sense of supervised by professionally drinking eggs?

Mom and dad often took their son to grandmother for the summer. When he grew up, he said to his parents, “I’m already big, why are you with me like a little boy? I can go to my grandmother!”

After a long discussion, the parents agreed.

Here they stand on the perron, accompany, give the last advice, and the son says, "I know, I know, 100 times have already said...! " Then the father says, "Son, if you suddenly get bad or scared, then this is for you..." and put something in the child's pocket.

And here the boy sits in the car, goes, looks at something in the window... And around people... strangers... push, noise, go in, go out, the conductor dissatisfied with him, someone also dissatisfied with him and... the guy becomes uncomfortable... and every time it becomes more unpleasant and more difficult...

He soon becomes scared. He stumbled, stumbled in the corner, tears rolled. He remembers having something in his pocket from his father.

With a shaking hand, he touches the paper, turns it out, and there is a note: "Son, I am in the neighboring car..."

One of my classmates turned out to be a real millionaire. Not those to whom the dad got something or an apartment in the center of Moscow from the grandmother, and not exactly those who used a gun in the 90s to make money. And really turned, rose and fell, but now there is a decent business, it is not shameful for people to look in the eyes. But it’s not so cool to be called an oligarch and try to take everything away. He has a small security service. Its chief is a former officer from the Organs. They shared a lot, shared a lot. The SBB chief was looking for it. Someone from the nearby circle recommended a landlord who recently moved to the capital. (The one-class director and his SBShnik are not Moscovites, they moved from the region together.) meet with. They talked. Former police officer (no longer serving in the police). He knew that he worked in the SB. Damn in measure, prof deformed in measure. It looks like everything is fine, but a worm is swallowing. And he decided "on a friendly foot" in the evening for a cup of tea to show his boss and "reveal." Well supposedly that "you understand, not all things are directly legal." And the potential deputy was surprised at some point and in support of "I am in the subject, I am my own" told how he in his youth, even before the Police was engaged in selling "confiscated cars from the special parking." Shareholders sent him people who wanted to buy a half-price Mercedes or jiggle (somebody in the pocket, both now and in the early 1990s), he acted as an intermediary - showed the car, opened the keys, launched, walked in the courtyard. It contains “preliminary documents”. There were many keys. Court of the organization. Everything looked credible. And then I took the advance, sometimes I managed to 100% and entered the office with a solid sign. And when the buyer was tired of waiting and looked into the office, he saw an empty room and an open window. Dissertations, as a rule, did not lead anywhere - his father was a big rank in the organs, 99% of the cases came down to the fact that "he went around, lost money, I promise to give as I could, there was no intention to steal." 1% had to be returned. Once he got on very serious, the father sent him to the army, then placed in the militia, where he "was crystal clear". was served. I understand you guys.



The head of the Board and the Director thoughtfully looked at the potential employee and remembered how after earning the first big money the Director wanted to buy himself and his wife a normal Mercedes, but the money was only enough for one. And Someone from acquaintances advised to buy "confiscate from the special parking lot". And that’s why the name of the landlord seemed unfamiliar.

Graduated from school, went to study in Peter, a year or two of the granite of science, returned home on winter holidays. Here is the meeting of graduates. I went, with the pot to reflect, said, I am there, in the cultural capital, and you are all fucking. Not exactly so, but you understand.

We sat down with classmates, boasted, picked up, in general, everything was standard. When I left, a classmate came to me alone. We were somewhat blurred at school, but I didn't need it all at the time, I didn't understand until the eleventh grade at all, why to start a girl and spend time on her. And then he grew up, entered the age.

So, she approaches me and says, say, come in tomorrow evening, let’s sit down, let’s talk. Well, I immediately understood what she was hinting at, I was transparent, like all the twenty-year-olds. Okay, I say, I will come, I say.

But the next day some events happened that did not allow me to keep my promise. It seemed like it was a drunk or something so fascinating. In general, I wake up after a day from a phone call at home. There were no mobile phones at the time. A classmate calls and asks why he didn’t come. Something unclear stuff, and she says, no problem, come tomorrow. Okay, I say, although somewhat strange...

But tomorrow, something distracted me. No, I remembered in the evening that I promised to come in, I could even call, but for some reason did not. of curiosity. I wondered how the lady would react.

Then another morning, and a call again. This time, I didn’t get stuck for revenge, I said, say, I just couldn’t and all. The alpha, ch. Okay, he said, come tomorrow.

The next day I didn’t go and didn’t call quite consciously. Well I wanted to go, it hurt somehow persistent was the lady. What would this be...? And after the third shot, she will surely suspect something and fly into the fog... or not?

The morning. The call. What did not come? Come here tomorrow.

I have already surrendered. I understood girls in situations with persistent cavalry. And curiosity, of course. Well, something straight I was very interested in the girl, until the pride and honor of the girl forgot. I thought I would come and explain that yes, of course I am crazy beautiful, but, girl! Have a dignity!

I go in, meet me somehow unexpectedly not dressed, I walk into the room, there sits some shit in a shiny jacket. He jumps, holds my hand and begins to roar:

- Hi, my name is Anton, and a representative of the company "Amway" and we have a unique offer for you! Only for today! Within a month, you will be able to reach a higher level of income.

And I stood and thought I had a normal classmate. Money is just needed.

The release of Terminator 2 Judgment Day produced a strong mental influence and personality formation of my friend and classmate, Ruslan. In order to be like Arnie, my friend signed up in a puppy, pulled off a leather jacket and tried to get rid of the facial mimic. Whenever it was possible, he tried to speak like a soulless machine with short sentences or quotes of a cyborg from a movie.

One morning we went to school with him. In front of the street we walked, there were birds. A lot of birds, as if something was scattered on the road.

I wanted to scream or shake to whisper them, and I got a little forward as I was left by a strong hand of the T-800. He looked at me with a senseless glance, waved his hands in the air as if he had recharged the blast, took a few steps forward, targeted and said "Asta lavista, baby" very loudly. I’ve been accustomed to these numbers, so I wasn’t surprised. We lived in peaceful times, so my Terminator could only shoot with this and no other method. But this time something went wrong. After shooting, Arnie stopped.

I approached the Terminator. He looked into the dal.

— Fuck, Andrew, I think it’s... It’s gone.

I looked at the robot. There was a drop of sweat.

Are you chasing? We are late to school, we are late to school.

I swear...

After a while, when I was finally able to breathe and wipe away my tears from laughter, it was decided to take this robot to his grandmother, who was just living on the way to school. The robot walked small steps, joining his knees, as if walking in a narrow shirt.

If you tell anyone about it, I’ll kill you.

How would you say, friend, you are not in a position to dictate conditions.

You can see when I walked, right?

“No, you’re like a Terminator who came from the future to save mankind, but something went wrong with him.

Visitors are interesting people. They always fall into stories. They came to us from a large land. The next day, the three mouths were broken and the finals. Not drunk, not drunk. Yesterday we went for a walk around the village, we went near the river, we watched the helicopter fly. We wrapped his hats. He gave a circle and sat next to us. The men of Kakieto jumped out and ran to us. What happened? We say nothing. How nothing? Why the Mahal? Just so. Oh just so. They beat us, we asked why. They say you won’t go like that another time. We also wanted to beat, but sadly these fools became. Only laughed.

I don’t know how it was with savings at lunch, but my father and I got caught one day by our brother by sorting empty bottles from under beer. We put together the supplies that were stored on the balcony in bags and dragged through the road to the tent where we took the glass. There were a lot of packages. And here, on the next walk, our father comes in to us. On a black volga with the chief accountant on the front passenger seat. I confused my father, short.

He got out of the car, gave us money, 10 times more than we could earn on the bottles, and the bags with the bottles ordered to put to the trash and roll home.

We dropped the minutes for 5, the money to hide, and then returned for the bags and took them away))) on which I spent the bubbles I don't even remember! )

The uncle sent a message to the family group asking for money. I wrote him in person to clarify the bank details to which to transfer money. He said he didn’t need money at all. And he asked that no one thought to ask him.

xxx: Keanu Reeves was at my job today and we started talking. In the process, I mentioned that my son needs a donor kidney and that I can’t pay for such an operation right now. He stood quietly for a few minutes, and then went to his car, when he returned, he gave me his kidney.

Yyy: One day I stood at the stop at 6 a.m. I went to a factory in Novokuznetsk. I put my hand in the coat and the clothes ended. I am sad. And there is a man in a coat and a shirt, he looks at me sad and says, "No! And stretches the papyrus "White Canal". I looked at you, Baa! This is a man from the Matrix!! by Keanu Reeves!

Zzz: One day I was lying on the couch and looking at the knot. Then I got my right egg. Scratching was so lazy. Suddenly Keanu Reeves approaches me and says, “How did you all beat me?”

The rich also laugh at the poor.

See you tired...

42-year-old Vladimir Beloborodov left his home on January 4 after a quarrel with his wife. Near its multi-storey on the Open Highway is just the Losinoostrovsky Park, - you can walk and air. But the whites got involved. He did not come home after a few days.

At first, the wife was not very worried about the life and health of her faithful. But on the third day, the woman's heart could not withstand a lonely life, and the lady to the police the disappearance of her husband. The search began, complicated, however, by one fact - the woman did not bring a single photo of Belobrodov.

First, rescuers reached the local manor and clarified if there were any losses in the district. Yager at this time celebrated the New Year with a friend and did not notice anyone. A friend also said that rescuers are the first people they see in a few days. The men walked away, and the woodsman and his friend continued to roast meat and drink.

Five hours later, Beloborodov’s wife found his only photo and handed it over to the search group. Great was the surprise of rescuers, when on the photo they recognized the same "friend" of the egger. The forest was immediately drawn.

By their arrival, the Beloborod and the Eger were deeply drunk. The escaped man pressed a bottle of cognac in his hands and shouted that he did not want to go home and remained living in the forest. He was somewhat reassured and, whispering, taken to his wife.

via base

Turn on the TV. I don’t know how and where to write comments, there are no twists. I turned off.

42-year-old Vladimir Beloborodov left his home on January 4 after a quarrel with his wife. Near its multi-storey on the Open Highway is just the Losinoostrovsky Park, - you can walk and air. But the whites got involved. He did not come home after a few days.



At first, the wife was not very worried about the life and health of her faithful. But on the third day, the woman's heart could not withstand a lonely life, and the lady to the police the disappearance of her husband. The search began, complicated, however, by one fact - the woman did not bring a single photo of Belobrodov.



First, rescuers reached the local manor and clarified if there were any losses in the district. Yager at this time celebrated the New Year with a friend and did not notice anyone. A friend also said that rescuers are the first people they see in a few days. The men walked away, and the woodsman and his friend continued to roast meat and drink.



Five hours later, Beloborodov’s wife found his only photo and handed it over to the search group. Great was the surprise of rescuers, when on the photo they recognized the same "friend" of the egger. The forest was immediately drawn.



By their arrival, the Beloborod and the Eger were deeply drunk. The escaped man pressed a bottle of cognac in his hands and shouted that he did not want to go home and remained living in the forest. He was somewhat reassured and, whispering, taken to his wife.

Democracy is the power of a crying minority over a law-abiding majority.

case of operation. The Surgeon's Story

"At 12 a.m., a phone call: "Please come to the gynecological department of the municipal hospital. The woman’s stomach opened and we don’t know what to do next.”

I go to the operating room. Immediately I learn that the head of this department, an experienced head, is on leave. The students are operating. The abdominal cavity is covered with a small cross section. A young woman, a cosmetic cut, when they made this cut, thought they would meet a small ovarian cyst, and found a large peritoneal tumor that goes deep into the small pelvis. And here they stand over their open stomachs. Shear - conscience does not allow, to isolate the tumor - are also afraid: the area is very dangerous and completely unfamiliar to them. Neither there nor here. and stupid. This story has been going on for 3 hours!

Everyone is looking at me, waiting for an exit. I have to calm them and encourage them with my appearance, so I smile and talk very easily and relaxedly. I open my peritoneum over the tumor and enter the abdominal area. The tumor is ugly, dense, almost immobile, goes deep into the pelvis, where the eye can not penetrate, but only to the touch. You can or can not remove this tumor - you will not immediately say, you need to start, and there will be visible. Very deep, very tight and very dark. There are vital organs and major blood vessels. Separate the upper pole from the general artery.

The easiest part of the operation, not very deep, and the wall of the artery is dense, it is not easy to hurt it. It even turns out to be beautiful, elegant, a little “for the public.” The result is unexpected. From the sight of a pulsing artery in my assistants begins hysteria. It seems to them that we have entered some terrible hole from which there is no way out. It affects three hours of previous tension. The gynecologist stands opposite, her eyes are enlarged. She cried out, “Enough! Stop to! There will be bleeding!” She grabs me by the hand, pushing me out of the wound. He is screaming all the time. Her hysteria is contagious. There are a lot of people in the operation. Doctors and nurses are here, even the nurses are here. And from her cries they begin to boil. Everything is collapsing.

I am covered by anger. “Silence,” I say to her, “Close your mouth! Tra-to to to to!“She is really silent. An elderly surgeon suddenly grumbled with a quick speech: “Thank God! Thanks to God! The man smells, the man smells. I heard such words, such words... Everything is well, Everything is well! It is OK!” And they calmed down. have believed.

Go further and deeper. I need long scissors, but they don’t exist, and with the scissors I’ve been given, you can’t work in depth. His own hands hide the field of sight, nothing is visible. In addition, the branches of these scissors differ, the tips do not connect. You can’t make a delicate movement (and it’s here, in such a narrow space). There is no blood supply either. The assistants are falling from their feet and do not understand anything. And again they say supplicantly, overwhelmingly, but without hysteria, convincingly: take a piece and go. There is no blood, no tools, we are bad assistants to you, you see where you got. What if he bleeds if he dies?

At this time, I am just separating the urethra, which is tightly attached to the lower surface of the tumor. A millimeter, a centimeter, in the dark. Sweat on the forehead, on the back, on the legs, tension hell. The ureter is separated. Even deeper the tumor attached to the extra-abdominal part of the rectum. There is only a feeling. I need normal knives. I cut bad slices. I force one assistant to put on a rubber gloves and push the patient’s finger into the rectum. My finger touches her finger from the side of the stomach and cuts her finger. And all the time at the base of the scissors - a wide, ugly and dangerous movement.

The tumor from the rectum is still separated. Only the patient is worse, almost five hours on the table with an open stomach. The pressure drops, the pulse divides. There is no blood at the transfusion station. Why is there no blood at the blood transfusion station? I scream somewhere in space to be brought immediately, to open their veins and to have the blood be this moment, immediately! “We have already gone,” they say.

So far there is nothing to move. You cannot allow bleeding, in no case: we will lose the patient. And the place is damned, bleeding - a small pelvis. All that has been so far is not the most difficult. Now I have come to the terrible. The tumor was infiltrated into the lower wall of the internal pelvic vein. The vein lies in the bone marrow, and if its wall explodes - the gap will easily go into the depth of the marrow, you will not sew there. However, I do not have to think about it. The tumor is almost in my hands, the assistants calmed down, the worst they can’t see. A heavy rough stone hangs on a thin venous wall. Now the rock is freed from above, and from below, and from the side. With one accidental movement of his, he can pull and blow the vein.

But the main danger is me and my bad scissors. I slide my finger in front of the rock - into the bottom, in the dark, to somehow highlight the dull front pole and slightly pull the tumor onto yourself - from the dark to the light. Yes is. It seems to be moving, moving. Something is already seen. And in this moment - a terrible whispering sound: blood shed from the depths of the small pelvis. The bleeding!! to

The assistants shout desperately, and I grab the towel and squeeze it into the depths from where it flows. I push my finger! I stop, but this is temporary - while I give, while the towel is there. There is no blood to replace it. You need to think about what to do, evaluate the situation, find a way out, some solution.

Then I realize that I am in a trap. There is no exit. To stop the bleeding, you need to remove the tumor, nothing is visible behind it. Where does it flow? It is impossible to remove it. I don’t see the boundary between the wall of the vein and the damned stone. Something else can be seen above. Deeper in the dark? Sweatshirts and brands do not fit together. There will be no gentle, tiny cut. Crash, a woman will die.

A whirlwind and war runs in my head: “Why did I do this? Where did you go? Asked not to go. He was wise and wise.” And the blood, though not fragile, flows from under the tight wipes. Instead of anything else, a beautiful young woman dies. You need to quickly find the trap, quickly - time goes away. Where is the trap? What is Chess? The surgical solution is quick, clear, risky, any! And he is not! No is!

And then a hot heavy wave hits the head from the inside; the beard throws, the head hits through the ceiling – up, up, and strange, unknown words rise out of the afflicted soul: “Lord, strengthen my hand! Give me reason! Give me!” Something came from there. The second breath? The body is dry and cheerful, the thought is fresh, sharp and the eyes on the tip of the fingers. And the absolute certainty that I will do everything right now, I don’t know how, but I’m the master of the situation, it’s clear. It went quickly, easily. I remove the vein from the tumor. It just goes! Smooth and clean, as in medicine. All of. I have a tumor on my hand. The bleeding stopped.

Blood was brought here. Absolutely well. I said to them, “What are you moaning about? You see, everything ended well.” And they worship. Tatsat alcohol (I fought a lot, such and drink great). Only I do not drink. They are happy again.

The patient woke up. I bow to her and drop tears on her face."

by Emil Eisenstein. Dispenser: Passions and Repentance of the Chief Doctor (1997)

During the negotiations on Nord Stream 2, Merkel and Putin divided Poland as usual.

As a child I went to kindergarten. Before the New Year, the teacher told us to bring myshures for the new year, decorate the tree.

So, at home, I demanded that I be taken with me to the FARS garden, because I forgot the word myshur and I was sure that it was the farch that was needed, and not what kind of myshur there is.

Today I suddenly remember how I liked the series "Brigade" when I was a teenager. The last series could not be seen and I gave the cassette (for sight) to a friend, asked her to record this series for me. I remember watching, crying, experiencing, killed my favorite hero (Cosmos). The titles passed and I am all in trouble, all in sadness... And then the wedding of my parents begins to show. Somewhere in the middle. Your own mother! All my sorrow was removed with my hand. I was cold of horror. What have I done? How could I give the wrong recording?  Fuck, Fuck, Fuck... I’ve kept this secret for 17 years.  It’s good that no one has sights anymore.  And it seems that the wedding video is being filmed so that the video operator can make money (joke).  My parents never wanted to watch the recording. Now we live in different cities and I very hopefully that my cottage will remain a secret.