As a result of many years of research, British scientists have found out: two twins distinguish perfectly from each other.

Today after the clinic met a St. Petersburger of the 85th level!
I went after the doctors on the way to the cafe, I sat down, relaxed with a coffee and a note. After some time, a guy passes by my table, putting a folded paper on my table, from a notebook, apparently. He hurried out of the cafe.
On paper, the inscription from the hand, but in printed letters, probably, so that it is not difficult to disassemble the handwriting.
“Maybe I’m not in my business, so if you don’t accept such an invasion of your life, don’t open this note and just throw it away.”
I opened the note!) With the same printed letters:
“You have bacillus on your legs that you probably didn’t remove after visiting a medical institution. If it is not a mistake, but a conscious part of the clothes, I apologize for the disturbance."

Lord, give me the strength to eat what is left, give me the courage to throw away what is ruined. Give me wisdom to distinguish one from the other.

In our family, the theme of sex was not to be banned, it simply did not exist. at all. But the time was like that. Not only my mother was silent. The adults were silent, the school was silent, television and the press were silent. It was like an information vacuum.



Even fresh were the echoes of the telemost of the 86th year “Leningrad-Boston”, when the phrase “In the USSR there is no sex” flew to the people.

Someone pronounced it with pride: “There is no sex in the USSR!”

Someone uncertain, as if doubting, seemed to be, but he did not see.

And somebody just said, “There is no sex in the USSR? Okay well”



Of course, we all know that the phrase itself was, as they say, pulled out of context. In the USSR there is no sex, there is love. There was only “sex” in the people.



For me, this phrase became the embodiment of the time of my adulthood, puberty. It was a time when I changed both in my head and body. Time for my unanswered questions.



The first interest is believed to have appeared in the kindergarten.

For me, a girl who grew up in a full matriarchate, with a rare Sunday daddy, it was twice as interesting as they, with boys, everything is arranged there. Our kindergarten games with daughters-mothers became more and more mature, and the games of doctors became more and more interesting. And in the quiet hour, moving the tabs, we and the girls quietly whispered that the boys, there, everything is confused - a lot of superfluity.



By graduating from kindergarten, we had a lot of time: we learned a song about the fun captain, learned to burn on boards, showed ourselves and saw others.



Like most of the children of that time, who grew up in small military towns, I spent all my free time outdoors. I went home to eat and watch another series of “Well, wait!” 

The street was not just a place for games, for communication, it was a powerful source of information. All the most interesting, scary, shameful, all the most forbidden I brought from the street. It was the street that told me what adults were silent about.



On the playground, in an old wooden house with paint, in a proven company, before me opened the door to the forbidden world of adult secrets.



Our company was led by my friend Olga. She struck me and admired me with the knowledge of such a huge number of nonsense: anecdotes, verses, songs.

Every day has benefits:

“Listen to another joke.



A boy climbed on a tree, a police officer approached him and said:

Go down. Not a tear.

What is your name? and Gan.

How is the name? and Don.

Where does your mother work? In the pharmacy.

A police officer comes to the pharmacy and says:

“Your Gan Don doesn’t tear!

And in response to him:

I had to buy the size.”



All of this anecdote broke up. Everyone except me. I didn’t understand what was funny about the fact that a boy with a strange name, Gan Don, didn’t want to come down from a tree.



Olga asked surprised:

Do you know what Gandhi is?

No, I shrugged my head.

This is... a candy. Tasteful and delicious. Go to the store and ask.



But in her cunning eyes there was a smell, and I understood that if the Gandon was really a candy, it was very unpleasant.



Yes, by the way, children of the 70s and 80s, do you remember how condoms were called in the USSR?

Products of No. 2. There is an opinion that rubber product No. 1 is an anti-gas, product No. 2 is a condom, product No. 3 is a calash, and number four is a napalnik. But it is just an opinion.



Condoms were sold only in pharmacies and were masqueraded with undetectable gray squares, like packaging paper. No flavour and no flavour.



So, taking advantage of her sexual awareness and my sexual illiteracy, Olga often suggested to me:

“Jeanne, look, there are high school girls sitting out on the bench. Tell them they are prostitutes.

What is it?

That means they are beautiful. They will be delighted and give you chocolate.



I may have been stupid, but very careful.

I didn’t get close, I stopped nearby, made a friendly face and gently, kindly said:

You guys are such prostitutes.



In response, a rubbish and a piece of dirt flew into me. I understand, I have to beat, there will be no chocolate.



In the fifth grade, I went to the camp, and brought back the "precious treasure" - a promised notebook, where were recorded frankly nasty anecdotes, songs and verses, with explanations of incomprehensible words. For a week I obscured the popular Olga in our company, or even in our yard. So that’s the garden – I became the star of the city.



The friends came in:

Hi my aunt Julia. Will Jeanne go out? - And I was quietly, stealing, because of my mom's shoulder whispered, "Tetradku grab."



Mother styles from my testament notebook were scattered on other testament notes. I was mega popular. But not long. A week later, I burned this precious artefact in a titanium ball. The fear of being caught and hooked in something shameful obscured the thirst for fame.



And these pioneering camps, rural relatives and friends filled my sexual luggage with forbidden verses and scabies stories. Often the information received on the street was frightening and disturbing. She demanded explanation and explanation. To whom to go?



I decided and went to my mom. To my strict mother. I had only two questions. The first, somewhat late, but quite traditional and harmless childhood question - Where do children come from?

But here is the second, adult and dangerous question, I took everything out of the same cluttered house on the playground: “Mom, what is sex?”

In response, I got sharply and categorically: “Children are for love, and sex is dirty and shameful. They are just prostitutes.”



Mom’s intonation was frightening and did not have any further inquiries. Who are the prostitutes, I guessed, and so I realized the main thing: sex is bad, sex is dirty, sex is shameful.



And when the neighbor Natasha said that all the parents are doing THIS, I struck her with fists and tears:

is not true! My mother is not like that!



I studied in a rural school. Often there was a lack of teachers, lessons were combined. Sometimes housekeeping for girls and labour education for boys were transformed into one great common work. In this lesson, our constant worker Sergey Nikolaevich explained to us how to behave in the theater and who are homosexuals.



He did this as a worker, in a simple language:

“I go to school, I hear the boys in the class cuddle and say, ‘P@Doras! You are Dorothy! “They saw me, and their ears were squeezed, and they were squeezed. The word is literary and means...



And the laborer brought out a long, beautiful, incomprehensible word on the class board in large letters: HOMOSEXUALIST.



So, he says, fight for health, only literally.

Another worker taught how to behave correctly in cultural public places, in the theatre:



So yes, write it down. Not to roast, not to chew, not to mate. Nicholas, this is about you. And when you pass to your place, it is with apologies and face to face, because no one is pleased to smell your ass.



And immediately from the last part flew a quite logical question from the second-year-old Nikolayev:

It smells good at the front, right?



In the upper classes introduced a new subject "Ethics and psychology of family life". A dull, dull schoolgirl also dictated boring and colorlessly from the textbook under the inscription "family as a cell of society..." 

of boredom. We fell asleep.



And one day, either she got sick, or she resigned, but we had a new, absolutely amazing teacher. It was during her lessons that I saw the condom alive and learned that oral sex did not come from the word “orate”.



At one of the lessons, as a textbook, the teacher led the whole class to the movie "Greek fig tree". In the small theater we sat as enemies – boys to the left, girls to the right.

The essence of the film is this: a young sexy beauty travels around the country, embarrassed, flirting and looking at couples during sex. And shoots all this on camera to find out why people do love without love.



The same question was asked by the teacher after the film was finished.

But the two hostile camps were silent and tried not to look at each other. The boys laughed quietly. And the girls sat punctured by shame and outrage, because in the film was shown a lot of naked female body, and the male quite a bit, literally a piece of ass. And there was such a feeling that the boys saw us naked, and we weren’t.



But despite this shock, shame, and embarrassment, I was looking forward to the next lesson on “The Ethics and Psychology of Family Life.” For the first time I got answers to my questions. Not in the form of shitty verses and songs, these were correct and delicate explanations from an adult understanding woman. She spoke to us equally, like a woman with a woman, like a mother with an adult daughter.

Unfortunately, these lessons did not last long. Someone of the parents saw the disgrace and wrote a report to the director. And the “Greek fig tree” was replaced by the “family as a cell of society.”



Now my daughter is growing up.

And, remembering my teenage throws, this heavy burning soup in my head with a taste of shame and prohibition, I’m always open to her questions.

I never get rid of Dianka, say, it’s too early for you to know. Once he asks, then the time has come.  I am not ashamed to explain to my older daughter what my mother was silent about.



Well, what I can’t explain, I’ll help Yandex.

And you never wanted that during the session of the Duma to the tribune came the sailor Zheleznyak and said: "Citizens, the convoy is tired, clean the room!“?

The law is the law!
Russian Federation, Republic of Komi, Ust-Kulomsky district, village of Myelodino. No, not from the words “We are helda!”
The village is stretched along the bank of the river. Length kilometers 7-8, width meters 100.
Central, it is the only street with the logical name Central. Killed all the ground, holes and dams, first-to-second transmission, speed 10 km / h. In front of the school 20 meters of perfectly flat asphalt, and on these 20 meters - 2 artificial bugs, "lieing police." It is logical not to lay on the ground of lying policemen. And signs, of course: Transition, Artificial Inequality, Speed Limit 20 km / h. There is nothing to chase here. The kids anyway!
And then again the same ground, the same 10 km / h.
How would you hint on the deputies who adopt smart and necessary laws (for example, about compulsory policemen lying near each school), that there is also life beyond the ICAD?

The ban on keeping the house of penguins, beemots, crocodiles and lions came into force. But the ban on the holding in the Kremlin of colonies of parasites has not entered into force.

Zarutsky F. D., Fyodor Taras "Training the intelligence officer: the GRU special forces system" (1998)



"If there is a need to quietly lower the gases, you should stretch your buttocks with your hands and then, in order not to give yourself a smell, quickly dissipate the air with your palms, without producing shock."



yyy: I tried to do in the guests, so weirdly looked at me, especially when I took off my pants to stretch my buttocks.

When I was 10 years old and I lived in the USSR, which was not distinguished by the variety of goods, a "danger" happened to me - I forgot the keys to the apartment. Mom from work had to come not soon, and to cross through the neighboring balcony (as then practiced) I did not dare then. After sinking a little, I decided to use my considerations for the external identity of my castle with the castle of the neighbors opposite, and knocked. The elderly Zoya was at home.

What to you?

Can you give me your key to open my door?

How is it?

The castles are the same.

I persuaded her to give the key, approached the door and opened it. My friend did not share my joy:

Have you tried before?! to

and no.

The castle was changed.

I remembered one curious from an old job at the SC on the repair of equipment.

Sometimes it turns out that customers are not in a hurry to take their equipment from the word at all)) Usually when the cost of the announced repair is too high, the state of the equipment is no and do not want to pay for the diagnosis. Once a month the manager called on such requests of customers and asked to pick up the equipment even without paying for diagnosis, but many are just lazy)) but the space in our service was enough and we depended on the devices did not strain.

One morning, a man comes and asks, “Do you still have my laptop?” and extends a receipt of the old sample, the date of delivery 3 years ago (the base has changed over this time, the data has gone away). The administrator rounded her eyes, like, “Now let’s see.” I found a note on the shelf of "growing" technology, wears - gives and is interested in:

“Why did you go to us so long?” 

The man is like this;

“Yes, I just sat in jail, I couldn’t get it, you know. “Thank you, all the good.”

It was at sunset.)

Comrades repairers try to keep the equipment as long as possible, they can always come for it))

I remembered the winter (not New Year's) story that happened many years ago. My son was still young and my mother was still alive. So here...

One beautiful winter day we (I, my mother and my little son) went for a walk. As it happens, when we wear noise and cries, we catch a boy to stretch his hat. And then my mom says, “Something like a knock, you hear?” I answer: No.

M: Listen to me!

Probably repair somewhere.

M: No, it is knocking out the window!

What a window, we are on the 8th floor!

However, the knock on the glass is spread throughout the apartment. We walked around the apartment in search of the source of the sound. And, indeed, on the balcony in the snow someone stands and knocks on the glass! There was no limit to the joy of the son: Mom, look, Carlson! My first wish was to call 02. We approached with caution, looked closer: the grandmother is standing in a coat on the frost, crying and asking to let her go. Oh, that’s the neighbor comes to the mother-in-law and grandson to sit! They let in, grafted a valocordine, and she was hysterical: she went out to the balcony to hang underwear, and the grandson (3 years old) closed it and can not open. And she decided (in the winter on the slippery pavements, 8th floor) to the luck to climb onto our balcony! A few more minutes and we would go, desperate old lady! Luckily, she always had the keys and the phone in her jacket pocket! The entrance door was safely opened from the outside with keys. I ask, why did you not call anywhere? Why risk their lives? She says: she was afraid that the son and daughter-in-law will know and will not let her grandson go any more. He asked not to tell the neighbors. We saw Carlson.

It’s funny when the president wishes the Russians the best, and the prime minister offers them to stick.

Dad and Zoh.

My father was always a supporter of a healthy lifestyle - never drank, did not smoke, must have done many kilometers before breakfast, - in general, I was always far ahead of him, I just admired his energy.
The only thing I was categorically disagreeing with was that as soon as the sun was a little warmer in April, my dad began to walk barefoot. And so until October.
Oh well! You’ve already melted your legs up to size 48! I’m looking for shoes for dogs in the store. I remember, you had the size 46 before, I warned him.
But Dad was relentless – walking barefoot on the ground was helpful. And the sandals, hardly found in the store, were rolling.
Until he broke his leg. There was a need for sandals - I insisted that he should at least temporarily start wearing them.
Two days later, it was a problem again.
“Girl, look, I think I’ve caught the curtain.

I had never seen the skins of a begemot in the vicinity, but, in my sensations... My dad’s foot was something of the middle between a slate of paper and asphalt. Taze with hot water, with the evaporation of the legs for half an hour - also helped little.
For a long time, armed with a needle, I looked in, trying to find a hole. I took off my glasses, put on my glasses... Then I called my husband. We both, like the Inquisitioners, ticked the needle to the misfortune - suddenly lucky? Where is the entry?
We never found it, and we gave up. Asking Daddy not to walk barefoot anymore - you see which side you got it!
The father breathed for two days, shuddered (well, he was hindered by the unfounded slope), but stoically walked in sandals.
On the third day I couldn’t stand it, removed the hated shoe – and, oh miracle! It hurts as never before.
And in the foot of the sandalwood, piercing it through, torched the self-cut...

We didn’t put a tree on this New Year, we didn’t look at Putin, we didn’t eat an olive tree.
Well, guess, is this legal at all?! to
© by

Unlike ordinary sinners, the patriarch in hell awaits a golden boiler with holy boiling water.

The Tajik Roman

The 90s. In the Deaf Taiga military part. The young lieutenant arrived with his wife. Together they looked fairy. Not that he was quite small in height, and with the muscles it was okay. There is something in the middle between Pushkin and Putin. Weakened, just below average growth. A normal man, not a dwarf at all. But in the background of his wife he looked like himself. Original articles by Baba. Her name was Zinaida.

It was difficult for them at first. Letehu was constantly hunted into the guards, and she could not find a job, all women's vacancies were occupied. But she did not despair. She was a native of Taiga, feeling at home in a new place. Summer was over when they arrived. It’s time for her, baby summer. She managed to collect supplies in the forest for the whole winter, then hit the salt, marinade and drying. I only managed to squeeze the banks and throw the bags into the basement. The grandmothers around were jealous – they were generally afraid to hang in the taihu. There were terrible bears. Zina was not embarrassed. Several times I encountered these bears, but kept calm, somehow established a dialogue with them, went apart.

The lieutenant, a man of the city, on the contrary, is dumb and cruel. He was borrowed by the burdens of the Tajik service when the frosts broke. And at home, another difficult test awaited - a joyful grandmother flourished in the fresh air.

It’s not that in this military town they like to talk, but it’s like an orbital station – you can’t hide anything. Multi-apartment houses, interconnections between them. No one will whisper if it shrieked overnight behind the wall and quieted. But if several times a night wake up stones, vividly reminiscent of a bear reef, then any neighbor will be angry. When will these fools go out! And then he walks this miracle in pursuits with black circles under his eyes, his soldiers are arranged. And there will be a harsh assessment of colleagues - weak! That grandmother caught me! It was wrong caliber.

Especially worried about this ambal of flags named Bora. He was a Zen caliber. The rich of the Russian land. A good guy was this Borja, but not everyone will decide to do so. Specifically, no one in this town decided on Bora.

And then this tragic loneliness ended up falling in love with Zina by ears. He was sad that she loved her lieutenant. The wrong, he thought, was the choice made by this wonderful girl. Bora wanted to correct the mistake, played with it, but was resolutely sewn away and treated it with dignity. Heined a good, equal relationship with her.

A self-confident, powerful man, Borya had no doubt that sooner or later nature would take its own and it would strike in him. This is a lieutenant misunderstanding. Her real happiness is Bora.

However, the process of understanding the obvious fact by the girl was delayed. He stoically endured mental suffering. In moments of sadness, he walked dark like a cloud, trying not to get in her eyes at all. In a small town it was fun. It is easier to hide an elephant in a dishwasher. The sudden ringing of the pot in the capsicum once again announced to everyone that Bore was able to hide when he saw Zina again. And that he is very sad. And with what he specifically messed up all these pots, fun hypotheses were built.

This was also known to the Lieutenant. He probably boiled inside, but also kept dignity and tranquility from the outside. Well, I fell in love with some tragic ambal in his wife. You will not command the heart. A good flag fights itself, even hiding. His behavior is perfect. Submitting a report on translation means showing your weakness. Leteha held the honor of an officer. A cup in the eyes.

Zina noticed this ugliness and treated it in her usual manner – actively. She surrounded her husband with care and affection. I accepted to feed him with delicious dishes for which there was a masterpiece.

They sent him to remote guards where the kitchen was forbidden. So that the spark does not blink. And in general, the guard on the sushi is much worse and more vigilant than usual. In those days, Zina waved over the taiga verstas. She wandered with hot cakes, soups and other snacks to her favorite. It was also for soldiers. Everyone was pleased with her.

The lieutenant rejoiced, began to regain forces. He gained weight well and by November smiled of a well-fed cockroach. He actively swung, began to do the sunshine tournament. At one glance at this spectacle, Bora honestly walked out of the side.

And one winter day, the Red Hat went back to her lover, with a box full of hot cakes. The flag’s heart could not stand. As he emerged from another shelter, he long and harshly sinked. Finally said:
Don’t go alone, Zina. The bear has gone bad. Let me accompany you. I have a rookie. Don’t be afraid of your Othello. I’m standing behind the turn, I won’t shake my eyes. I smoke, I eat your cakes. Then I will take you back.

Zina thought about it. Why the bear went bad, it was clear. All the normal bears had already fed no worse than her husband and went to sleep on the bars. And whoever does not lie down is a very bad bear, will eat anyone.

She agreed to the convoy of the flag. I gave him a large bag. I looked at his rookie with admiration. In general, an impressive figure.

The devil knows what’s in his head. Is the look mad, or is the tempting thought that he is deaf? Far away from the house, and to the guard. Per they did not go along the way. But in any case, he suddenly woke up in the midst of the marriage season.

He dropped a rogatine and a bag on the road. He looked at Zina furiously, raised her on his arms and carried her to the nearest nuts. The purpose of transportation of the flag could not be clearly explained. I stumbled into her with a warm kiss. She turned her head desperately.

He did not explain the wise plans of his flag, he simply carried it away. Getting out of his hands was risky. What a good thing on a suck is sharp. In a fight, it can be stifled. Not in man.

Zina, coming out of the otropy, tried to calm down and made a plan. He recalled the tactic of Barclay de Tolley when retreating from the border to Moscow itself - to exhaust the enemy. No matter how strong Bora was, the weight he raised was epic. With each step towards the nuts, the flag became weaker, and she became stronger.

When Bora, in order to stumble, carefully put her on the ground, she sent him with a powerful hook into the nickdown, which smoothly went into a deep knock-out. Bora stumbled and fell heavily.

And Zina began to think about what she would do next with that mortar. I did not want to leave them in the forest. Suddenly it freezes to death. Or freeze something. It finally gets cold. The bear comes out of noise. Blood from the nose. The smell of shadows is beautiful.

I thought hard, and breathed. She took a rogatine in her hand, a bag with cakes on her shoulder, pressed the flag boots with her armpits and went on. The flag is not an obstacle. His hands were bound by his shirt. Is it little. His shirt was left on his neck. He needs a man on the snow. It’s so hot to pull such a bowl.

The path was difficult, difficult. A few times the flag broke. He began to move his feet. The merciful virgin breathed, turned and gave him another hook from all her heart. I cried and thought. How to explain all this shame to my husband.

I find it difficult to express further words. It became a legend of the part. It was told in the evenings years later. Everyone is different. I grew up in a military town. Easy to reproduce:
The alarm! Unknown people are approaching the object. Stand up, hands up!
(by looking at it)
Guys, the ass is going on!
(Looking into the binoculars, confused)
A huge ass!

And poor Zina is just tired of the tricks of the flag. At some point, he turned on his brain and gathered forces. He tried to liberate himself with a powerful movement. The prize for the smart got a new hook. Then she pulled her arms, turning back forward. I had to throw away the roast and a portion of the cakes. Not too long, they will be picked up.

The lieutenant, looking carefully into the binoculars, recognized his ass, canceled the alarm and sent a couple of soldiers to meet him.

Shortly after, the scene in the capsicum.

“Sasha, you can imagine a shadow bear has attacked us! As soon as he did not get rid of him. I was lucky, right in the nose. He was confused and fled.

During this time, Borya woke up and found that he was being dragged by his legs again. I looked around and noticed that Zina was no longer there. His golden heart was affected.
Is she alive?! to
and yes! The servants answered – he has it!

Bora heavyly stood on his feet and went to explain to the leitech. By this time, Zina finished her story about the feats of Boris in the battle with the bear, and they kissed. Borya drowned indecisively at the threshold. Welcome to the gathered. He repented as he could.

Sorry of course. I grew up in a normal village. Honest women resist to the last. As long as you are cowardly, if a girl says no, but smiles, it means yes. What a couple you are! Laughing alone. So I decided...

In this place of repentance the flag arrived a couple from the angry lieutenant. He was a master of boxing sports.

In the future, they had an equal, respectful relationship. But for a long time, the dishes crumbled on the caps.

You read that the word “Dutch” will no longer be used, but only “Dutch.”
And why?
“There it is believed that the word ‘Dutch’ is associated with drugs and the Red Light Quarter.
Will our Dutch cheese also be renamed?
Don’t worry, the cheese is still there. I have never heard of it in Holland.

I don’t buy lottery tickets because I’m afraid of winning a billion.

I work outside the city, I go to work always in the same inter-city bus, with the same driver, at the same time. The distinctive feature of the bus - it is bright yellow, so I am not afraid to miss it, and calmly, I listen to the music in the headphones at the stop, knowing that something yellow is about to flash. Well, today, as usual, I stand at the stop, listen to music... Suddenly, through the headphones, I hear a very loud car signal, I look, some bus stands, the door opens, and there my driver screams - "yellow has gone... sit down, or you will be late to work!"
This is good morning :)

For the employees of the airline "Victory" in hell provided a separate boiler size 36x30x27cm.