Baroness and Cossacks

I went to the electric shop for a lamp.
Within the people there were a few, five people in all, but only two of them can be called characters. The first character is a lady (with, not by age, straight back) standing at the box office. Running forward, I admit that I envy her friends and acquaintances, because they have the opportunity and pleasure to communicate with such an extraordinary person. Dressed she was shameless and somewhat old-fashioned: a dark dress to the floor, a silver brochure, a small riddle, a ring cloth in her hand and a hairstyle like the lady from the Chekhov stories. In the theatre hall, no one would pay attention to it, but in the electric goods store, it looked like a wooden rope in Silicon Valley. The age of the lady was difficult to determine, maybe 61, or all 79. The hell knows her. In one thing I now have no doubt that she has a secret family recipe, according to which she makes a tincture and takes it one teaspoon on an empty stomach, every two hundred years.

The second prominent character in the store was a bearded Cossack studying a window with wires. The Cossack was dressed simply and with taste: shoes, a sporting suit, and on his head a carakle hat-cube. On the street was hot under thirty, so the face of the Cossacks from under the hat flowed courageous streams of sweat.
The cashier for some reason for a short time got out of the box and the turn spread throughout the store. There is only a mysterious lady left.
I approached her and asked:

Are you in the box? I will be after you.

She sneered and, pointing to the side of the Cossacks, replied:

- I have to warn you that the gentleman in the winter hat was behind me.

Everyone in the store exploded with a wild whistle, including me.
Kazak was obviously offended, he pulled his chest forward and said strictly:

My grandmother is not your winter hat, I am a Cossacks!

The lady pretended to be surprised and replied:

Who could think? and Kazak. What a sweet coincidence, your nobility, you are a Cossacks and I am a Baroness.
I am a Cossacks without coincidence. I understand!? I can’t see anything on the hat.? to
“Well, don’t get angry, pigeon, on the hat, so on the hat, Cossacks, so Cossacks. But I am older than you in age and rank, so I will allow myself to give you a little life advice: if you suddenly get bored of being a Cossack and you want to be called, say, a pearl hunter, then one swimming cap will not be enough, you will still have to dive for a pearl.

A man in a winter hat spotted the lady with a glance, splintered inside and, without waiting for the cashier, proudly left the store, lying with invisible spurs on his shoes.

The mayor of Quebec refuses to remove pork from the menu of school dining rooms and explains why:

“Muslims must understand that they must integrate and learn to live in Quebec. They must understand that it is they who have to change their way of life, not the Canadians who so generously welcomed them.

Muslims should understand that Canadians are neither racists nor xenophobes. Canada hosted many immigrants before Muslims appeared here. Like other peoples, Canadians are not ready to give up their identity or culture.

And if Canada has accepted someone into its land, it is not the mayor who welcomes foreigners, but the Canadian people as a whole. Finally, they should understand that in Canada (Quebec), with its Christian roots, New Year’s trees, churches and religious festivals, religion should remain a personal matter for everyone.

For Muslims who disagree and feel uncomfortable in Canada, there are 57 beautiful Muslim countries in the world, most of which are sparsely populated and ready to welcome them with open arms.

If you left your country for Canada, not for other Muslim countries, it’s because you thought life in Canada was better than in others.

We will not allow you to bring Canada to the level of these 57 countries.

If you came to Canada with the idea that you are going to push us out with your fertile spread and eventually capture our country, you should gather and return to your country where you came from.

If you agree to accept these provisions, then stay. If not, be prepared to leave.”

The idiots are saving.
The Ministry of Health decides to save money. Because they are foolish, the savings are foolish.
To begin with, they decided that once the doctor is taught twice as much as the nurse, then the doctor will cope with her duties. The nurses were discharged and the doctors were forced to carry out all the documentation alone. As a result, high-quality specialists are busy half the time with what a not-so-high-paid specialist can do.
After that, right as in the children's cartoon about seven caps from one sheep, the fools began to "saving" again. The doctor spends too much time on the reception (moreover, he smells for himself and for the nurse), let’s reduce the reception time. have reduced. Now almost all the time of reception a doctor who has been taught for 6 to 7 years spends on the work of a nurse who is taught twice as much. There is no time to look at the patient. For excessive consultation - punishment, fools are spared. Uzi, Kt, dead only the plate. for free - punishment for the doctor, fools are spared. As a result, the patients who did not receive help should quietly die to the joy of the fools. But the people "why" do not want to die and call an ambulance. And the challenge is a medical brigade, again - a high-paid. The driver, again, is not one of them. come and understand that the patient does not need an ambulance, and no one provides him with a plan. And the emergency is more expensive than the call to the clinic. That is, one challenge would pay for the correct and normal treatment, but the fools will save. Further, the ambulance or leaves the patient at home and he tries to follow the instances further, or, when the consequences of the planned "non-treatment" become... bad, he will be taken to the hospital. There are high-paid specialists, examinations and hospitalizations, where they carry out treatment that they could spend at home for a lot less money. But the fools are saving. And often after the examination they say - you are treated in the clinic and everything goes on in the second, third and so on. and specialists often in the clinic were not bad, but 12 minutes per patient, 10 of which are spent on holy - to fill out medical documentation. This is why fools don’t save money. And the worst thing is that these specialists in a few years will simply not be able to work normally. Here the documentation they fill will learn to the joy of the fools.

In her youth she worked as a translator for a foreign humanitarian organization that identifies cases of “sexual abuse of minors.”
It did not work for long – it was difficult even to translate the reports of our “field agents” who worked with the affected children. A terrible statistic that the vast majority do not even know.

Alkashi rented the children to friends for a bottle. A grandfather for years raped his granddaughter, threatening to kill his mother. Six-year-olds in the crowd are washing over second-class children right behind the school. A man gives a student money to bring the boy out. A seller in the store for a year forces the girl to come to him regularly, threatening that otherwise he will rape her little sister. The mother puts her daughter under her father’s arm so she doesn’t leave.
Often these are well-off children, the environment does not even suspect what is happening to them, specialists have to work long and hard.
To trust them and tell them.
The children do not believe they will be saved. Children know what you will say: I invented it, I provoked it, it is my fault.

Shame on all of you who say so. I see there are many of you here.

If you’re on "you" it’s a sign of respect. The big letter is your language between my buttocks.
^ ^ ^
It is gold. The main would.

At the Safe Internet Forum, commenting on the latest sovereign Internet law, Mizulina cried out that “Prohibition is freedom.”
In my opinion, it’s as if she came to the doctor, complaining about the pain in the heart, and he said to her, “Well, you, blue girl, disease is health!

Today, the three richest Russians have lost $12 billion.
Tomorrow they will find them in the pockets of the rest of the Russians.

On Friday I go to the hypermarket to bake beer and shrimp. I see - there is a free place, next to the Offgen Harley.
I park, get out of the car, start looking at it, because I love motorcycles like that. A family is sitting next to the car, making shopping. Mom, Dad and Boy, 5 years old.
Here comes the owner of Harley.
Classics - leather pants, cosacks, leather vests on the naked body, on one forearm of the tattoo ZZ Top, on the other - AD/DC. And... A huge snow-white hairstyle with curls, and the same snow-white beard to the pup. This is a mixture of the same ZZ Top and MC Flash.
The boy is like a whirlwind – “Mom, look at Santa!!!“”
And his mother says, “No son, it’s a motorcycle uncle.”
The child’s lower lip begins to swell.
A motorcycle uncle turns to the boy, and says in a well-set bass (further dialogue with the boy):
Yes, I am Santa Claus.
Where is your red coat and why on a motorcycle?
- So summer, I have a vacation, I ride here, at the same time I look at children who behave well and who is bad, to know who to give gifts for the New Year, and who - not. And on a motorcycle, because the deer rest, the grass is sprinkled, the strength is gaining, because in the winter, how many things we will have.
Where is the Snowman?
Snowmen in the south is resting in Turkey.
Does it not grow?
- Yes, no, these are stories, we do not melt from the heat.
Further, he opens the copper, which is filled with small plush rabbits.
He takes one and gives the boy with the words:
Be good, listen to Mom and Dad, and you will have a good gift for the new year.
He has tears in his eyes of happiness.
Then he turns to me, blinking and whispering, “Third for today.”
He sits on a mouthpiece and moves smoothly.
Mom smiles, Dad smiles, the boy hugs the rabbit.
I look at the sun and think, “How good is life!”

I watched with the children “Old men go to battle” and remembered.

In our kindergarten worked cook Antonina Vasilyevna. She was fifty years old or older, and I didn’t know much at the time. Of all the workers of the kindergarten dining room, I remembered only her - Antonina Vasilyevna could always get a supplement, running for a glass of compot or a bowl of gray even during a walk. The other change did not allow anything like this and, as a rule, pushed us away.

One day, when I got an extraordinary portion of cocoa, I noticed that the eyes of the cook, as my mother said, were on a wet spot. Then I didn’t give that importance and quickly forgot. But a couple of days later, rushing to the kitchen for a snack, I saw Antonina wiping her eyes with the edge of a towel.

I asked my mother, who worked in the same garden as an educator, why Antonina Vasilyevna was crying all the time. My mother told me that when the war began, Antonina, who just finished school, volunteered for the front. She served in the dining room of the aviation regiment. With this regiment she almost went to Berlin. Once, one of the pilots, a young lieutenant, who had recently arrived from school, ran to her kitchen and asked for cocoa. The time was rough, everything prepared for lunch was drunk and eaten, and dinner was just beginning to cook. In principle, cooking cacao was a matter of a couple of minutes, but Tonia was not the spirit that day and the lieutenant refused. Come in, she said, tonight. He did not come in tonight. As she later learned, the lieutenant was killed while performing a combat task - his fighter was shot down by the Nazis.

Twenty-five years have passed since then, and there has not been a single day when Antonina Vasilyevna did not think that if she poured that unfortunate glass of cocoa, everything could have turned out differently - and the battle would have gone differently, and the lieutenant would not have died. That’s why she never refuses any of the children in the supplement. She just cries often.

When I was six years old, this story shocked me.

The investigator told me. In the night of the 31st on the 1st he was on guard. Someone is starting to break in the shelter. He opens, and in front of him with a almost toothless mouth a swollen bumble with a naked torso. On the street 30. In his hands a dirty and stinking telogreek. “Help my friend.” He launched it, says sadly, it will freeze.Bomj the telogreek carefully on the table, and there is a baby. He found him in the garbage, took off his clothes, wrapped. I walked 2 km. In such cold. We fed and drank that bomb with the whole duty for a long time!

Bondarev Oleg
3 hours ·
The idea of a modern detective novel. I do not know how to name. I choose between the "Barbershop of Death" and "The Knife in the Spinner". Propose other options? The main character is a hipster detective in a board cardigan.

Commentary
Mickhail: Girosprut
Andrei: The Doors of Death
Sigway of Destiny
Yuri: "Engineer at outstaffing" - a very relevant topic
Andrei: "The whip of the dead". "The Body at Timbuilding" "Coworking of Killers" - ready trilogy
Here is the finished epigraph:
- Hi, we are vegans-weepers from the neighboring crossfit center. Want to talk about love for life?
- Mother of God... Bring a shotgun, these creatures have found us!

to this:

ejack662: Am I that one unwittingly chew plus over the records until the 4 eyes of the Chinese appear? OO

and----
Now let’s figure out who it is when it comes... ;)

In the woods there was a right-handed tail.
He was beaten away by the Homosexual.
But the forces exhausted, the right-hand fell.
It was easy for them to get homeowner.
I quickly finished and knocked my ass.
He said, “Hello, now you’re in Europe.

The Killer Doctors

I fired the doctor. With threshold. For “violation, non-conformity and the other, and the other.” A quiet, calm woman, always seemed to be tolerant and unwavering, but here she collapsed.
Collapse of calls, consistent clinic and acute seizures, consultations.
The challenge - twelve floors, the elevator is not on duty, we walk up to the 11th floor. We get up, resting - the caller stands at the door, shooting us on the phone, and commenting so obsessively "This is how our "ambulance" rushes to call."
We walk in silence without reacting. Madam lives alone, has a bunch of health complaints, without a single clear, basic and favorite "bad, why incomprehensible?“!”
It holds us for more than an hour, demanding consultation on all existing, including exotic, diseases, mandatory scheduling of treatments and recommendations until old age - instead of periodically popping up the names of officials and other cappuccinously familiar FSB sheriffs, who in case of refusal will immediately be called. We leave completely exhausted.

The next challenge is “lost consciousness, does not breathe.” At the other end of the area. We fly, we push through traffic jams. The courtyard of Stalin, the crowd of people, the body of an old lady. The face is blue, the eyes are coloured - the devil knows it, maybe a stroke, maybe - TELA [Tromboembolism of the pulmonary artery], not to say. We have time to get out of the car - the daughter flies to the doctor, spit in her face and clings into her hair. If we pull away, we tolerate the ears of smoking on our heads, we hide in the car from the angry crowd. Long drive, the hell knows where it carries us, more than an hour have waited, creatures heartless, so that you yourself.
Just released from this - repeat to the same address, to the previous aunt, the supervisor on the phone "complains on the quality of assistance".
I go, I get married, the doctor is strangely silent.
Again climbing to the 11th floor, again madam with the phone and already with a girlfriend - in a voice discussing our rush, uncomfortable and unstable.
Question: “The reason for the challenge?” Madam, smiling, "I hit your paper somewhere, where you wrote appointments - write another one." My doctor, a quiet, sweet woman, takes a step forward and with her size. At the entrance, her exhausting scream is heard: “Have you gone, Ssssuka!” Elijah pulled away.
Her acquaintances seemed to have really known her. I was fired by article, without the right to work at the SP at all.
As she left, she smiled, “Yes, fuck them. A job where murderers should be killed, not beaten, is not for me.”
I thought. This lady is a murderer. If she wasn’t with her challenge, we’d be able to get to that grandmother. And to many other grandmothers whose lives have eaten these ladies.
They still live now. And they call. And they take away for the sake of their fast-paced “I” life from those who really need us.
They like to talk about “killer doctors,” it’s fun.

I was nineteen. My father is Moscow. One day I went to visit relatives. I don’t remember why or why, but I’m standing on the railroad, waiting for the electric car. On the contrary, another perron. He came, stood and left. People in front of me slowly absorb... but suddenly I notice the girl. She is about 25 years old, cute, slim. It is obviously nervous.. passing men and grandmothers look at her, turn around, chick, show the finger... In a couple of minutes I realized: a problem happened to the girl. Apparently, on the road, she suddenly had women’s days. She shrugged her light coat. The company of young people, in general, she whispered... The girl was all confused, compressed, bored... pressed to the pillar and cried. Suddenly, a guy approaches her... appears to be 17-18, no more... I thought, “Well, another goat!” I decided to go to her... at least...
And suddenly I see... the guy takes off a light jersey and binds his sleeves around the girl’s waist. In short, I covered the girl... She stumbled... And I...
The boy took a good step in his business. The girl recalled in a few seconds:
Oh yeah! The guy! Thank you very much!
The boy looked around, smiled, shrugged her hand... and dissolved in the crowd.
Not a boy... a man. In the big letter...

Not in Satan’s Rockets and Nuclear Cruisers. This is not the Soviet Union.

The Soviet Union is when the old grandmother, my neighbor, a girl, was taken by the Bolsheviks and moved from the basement to a normal apartment. and free.
The Soviet Union is where education is free, including higher education, and at the same time the highest quality in the world.
The Soviet Union is when pioneering camps and children’s sanatoriums are built on petrodollars, not yachts with blades worth like a large anti-submarine ship and not two-storey airliners for 500 people for personal use.
This is when you walk in the streets of your hometown, but he is not confused with the clutch wire, and the surveillance cameras at each washing are not overwhelmed, as in a concentration camp, and mint without machines and even without oaks, and the crime rate is one of the lowest in the world, and the street so much more.
This is when on the TV is not glamorous shadows in pink fears, and not bodies of mountains, but something that makes you think.

Wake up rescuers.

Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishermen of men and not of fish.” They immediately left the nets and followed him. (Mark 1:16-18)

I did not catch fish in the water, but people. The MISIS swimming center was a pleasant obligation to rescue a month in Pitsund. Ordinary students flocked and praised with their tails on the trade commission parket, picturing a promised trip to the camp, and we were driven there in order.
A full lava. In your full disposal a house on the shore, two boats and all the babies in the district. The holy thing man does. Yes, plus-all as a selection of athletes.The burned and muscular-passion what souls.
It is a sin not to let such white teeth go.
If they weren’t resting, I would have them... with this stupid habit of drowning anywhere.
Everything is like about the firefighter in the anecdote: "The collective is soulful in our calculation, the brand master-father of the native, feed until the fall - but as a fire - so at least resign!"
We first met the boss. The rushed drunk Micheich - in the past, the navy "box" was the brightest personality. Externally, it resembled the twisted passages with its short curved legs and huge streams, swirling to the knees. The strength was simply incredible.
From the fleet to the rescuers he was spared because once did not count the malech gave a brown sailor in a dungeon, and that through a falchboard take and bulk into the water.
It was a good deal in the area.
Micheich pulled him out, pursuing him. The headquarters appreciated the talents of the Mitchman and dismissed the hero from the fleet, arranging him to work on his vocation.

Upon arrival Micheich spent a couple of classes with us.He impressed us, nothing to say.
It must be said that the real lifetimes of rescue on the water are radically different from those charitable posters that adorn any OSVOD station.
I remembered :
The client is digging, not digging, first and foremost, a strike in the dune of him! And then the hair.
Otherwise, you will get rid of him. Together you will sink to the fucking...
I have to say that to send in the water in the drum, with a rause in the end, the matter is far from easy. There is no resistance. You have to jump out of the water and hit the top. This is the difficult thing Micheich taught us.
from his instructions.
If an ambulance arrives to pick up, look at both, what would be indicated in the papers, that the rescue activities were carried out with him. Or it is easy for pathanatoms to put a violent death - how many times the ribs were broken with artificial breathing - not counting. You get bored to write papers...
And the main:
- Found a dwarf of the night afternoon - drag it to the neighbors to the site. Call me in the lie.
Then they will be registered, not you. There is paper writing dark. Even the prizes can be deprived.Well, and be careful that they don’t get yours.
Subsequently, we regularly conflicted with the neighboring station on this matter. It often came to Morocco. The paintings were Hellenistic-a group of half-naked men in the rays of the dawn sun beat a friend of harry over the deceased. The Battle of the Trojan and the Greeks for the body of Patroll in pure form.
Not for, but against.
Patroll was defeated along with all the accompanying hemorrhoids.

But, despite the alcoholism-order in the house, Micheich supported absolutely the navy. No hell in our area during the day did not sink, no matter how we tried.

I remembered my first forever. There was a big uncle. and loud. He drank a bottle of water with seawater and sharply changed the tone with "Paashli all our!" (in response to our cries in the matyuhalnik about buys, back, and those de), on “Oh, blah, tannou!”
By the way, it is rare. Drowners, as a rule, people are quiet - humility and lack of air do not allow them to scream. It voted for the whole district. Exclusively a mate.
We approach the boat and throw around. The imagination broke. His hands scratch on the water, his skin is scratched out, and Nihren does not understand. A. A. A. A. A. A. A. A. A. A. A. Buriing closer risky-turns the boat as bad to do. I dive, swim to the beautiful. I remember Mitchell’s lessons.
and NNNA!
Fuck, I got through my nose... He shrugged right away.The man is astonished by the eagle’s eyes on me.
NNNNNNNN!
Again by the way. He just broke his lips and scratched his fist at his teeth.
The man's amazement has no limits.He probably did not imagine the process of rescue on the water.
Together with him behind this impressive picture, the beach is observed.
NNNNNA!
What a fucking thing in the eye...
To the man touches, that the thing is bad, he sharply increases the flooding and quite sharply falls away from me.
and NNNA!
Those are Irods! What are you doing? From the shore came the shout of indignant spectators.
But I am not to them. He entered Rage.
You will not go, fuck! I will save you anyway!
Finally, I get into a man’s neck. FFF, finally that is. Riding my hair, fuck, tear it off, and pull in the boat again. Three of them pulled him.
We took the motorcycle, approached the shore and woke up. He immediately threw on me. I meet him with a pair in the throat rescued flying overboard. They jump and run to the shore. I follow him somehow. I only manage to get him in the ass - the beautiful man with a sharp spurt goes to the gap.People with a whisper run out of our way.The legs are hanging in the sand, I slow down - this pig is carrying without dealing with the road.It carries a fungus, not slowing down the run.It jumps through two beds-without touching. Fuck you like that. And why is it, in fact, I run-in, finally, in my head?
The client is alive, healthy, in a beautiful tone, what else can I help him?
The car hit me all over the beach. But Mikhailich, with the help of свояak in the mindset, settled the question.
Even a handshake, which for him, expensive to praise, meant:
The Beautiful! Keep it so!
After that, military discipline was established on our site. No one was swimming close to the bucks.
It was worth anyone to try the sunny-yourself citizens caught the brave for swimming.
You hear it from far away, whisper! Here are the rescuers! Named man for the bucks swam-they drove him like this! All the roots of violence fled from them! If I had not fled, I would have killed the naked!
Maybe there were no drowners.
and Amen.

I go into the office, sit in a chair, stretch my legs, cover my eyes.
The first year?
What is? I grumble, I grumble. It was half-dark in the office, I did not notice that there was anyone else here.
Do you work the first year? A fat man sits on a couch in the remote corner of the room. - Just I see, a young doctor came in, tired and too excited at the same time.
Sorry, but strangers cannot be here.
Please forgive me. But I am not entirely alien. I worked here for almost 30 years. The Surgeon. The Child. Two years in retirement. I went to visit my colleague, Pavel Alexandrovich. You must know him, he is the chief doctor here.
A man approaches me.
by Vasily Igorovich.
- Sergey... Sergey Vladimirovich, - we exchange handshakes. His fingers are thin, but his hand is hard.
- I was already going to the exit, but passing past the "native" office room did not stand up and looked. This sofa is 10 years old! How many nights he spent on duty. I just sat down, and here are you. He breathed heavily and fell straight into the chair. I think it’s a newbie!
I’m here for the third week after the appointment. Children’s hospital emergency is the most desperate choice. You know, all these injuries in children... it seems I will never get used to. Although colleagues assure that in a couple of months I will not react to the screams and crying, "like scaly." If it doesn’t work, I’ll go to an adult clinic.
Vasily Igorovich slightly smiles, looks in the eyes.
I hope you don’t turn around and stay here. I have never regretted becoming a child surgeon. Our profession allows you to know a person like no other. I can confidently say that everything is present in children. Fear, pain, despair, courage, courage and love.
Vasily Igorovich is silent for a few seconds, whispers, tells:

Fifteen years ago, at night, a nurse runs here from the reception room.
The highway! The patient is in the second operation.
He ran, the brigade had already gathered, a six-year-old girl was on the table. While wearing clothes and sterilizing, I learned the details. There was a family of four people in the car. Father, mother and two children: twins a boy and a girl. The girl suffered the most: the blow hit the area of the right back door, where the child was. Mother, father and her brother were hardly injured - scratches and hematomas. Help was provided on the spot.
The girl has fractures, dull injuries, bruised wounds and large blood loss.
In a couple of minutes comes a blood test, and carry with it the news that it is the third positive we do not have right now. The question is critical - the girl is "heavy", counting minutes. A blood test of the parents. My father has a second, my mother has a fourth. I remembered the twin brother, of course, he has a third.
They sat on a bench in the reception room. The mother is all in tears, the father is pale, the boy is desperate in his eyes. His clothes were filled with his sister’s blood. I approached him, sat down so that our eyes were on the same level.
“Your sister was badly hurt,” I said.
“Yes, I know,” the boy whispered and squeezed his eyes with his fist. When we hit, she hit hard. I held her on my knees, she cried, then stopped and fell asleep.
Do you want to save her? Then we have to take your blood for her.
He stopped crying, looked around, reflecting, suffocating hard and sneezing. I gave a gesture to the nurse.
Aunt of Light. She will take you to the procedure room and take blood. Aunt Light is very good at doing this, it will not hurt at all.
and well. The boy took a deep breath and went to his mother. I love you, Mom! You are the best! Then, to Daddy – And you Daddy, I love you. Thanks for the bicycle.
Light led him to the procedure room, and I ran to the second operation room.
After the operation, when the girl was already transferred to the resuscitation, he returned to the hospital. I noticed that our little hero is lying on the couch in the procedure room under the blanket. The light let him rest after taking blood. I approached him.
Where is Katya? The boy asked.
She is sleeping. Everything will be well with her. You saved her.
When will I die?
Not very soon when you’re old.

Vasily Igorovich pronounces the last phrase with trembling in his voice. Silence for a minute.
“I see, Sergey Vladimirovich, you didn’t really understand what special happened then. I also did not realize immediately. Several hours tormented doubts, and then shaded. Many years have passed, and I still get sick every time I remember that day. The boy thought he would die after he was “taken blood.” So he said goodbye to his parents. Childhood naivety? and what? He was 100% sure he would die. He sacrificed his life for his sister. Do you know what action he did? The most real. And no one noticed. Stay here to work, Sergey Vladimirovich. It will be hard sometimes, but you will never regret it.

Bring me home! So that again in the morning at nine o’clock I went for a walk, in the evening at eleven came back and nothing you need all day: neither to eat, nor to drink, neither car, nor salary.
Let me find a rod and all you have is happiness: and a sword and a rifle, two shit in one. If you want to be a soldier, you want to be a knight. Well, and if I found some fucking rugged incomprehensible, then it was actually concrete, just ecstasy! Drop the TV, Drop the Internet – you have a rugged shit and all the fucking, you are the king of the world. Walk with her for at least a day, it will not get bored at all! It’s a shit, how can it get bored?! to
Bring me back! The girls are angry again. So that in the lawn in the shoe grounds of the grandfathers and slowly so melt on it, you are looking in the lawn such a place where the water straight to the edge of the shoe grounds, but at the same time does not flood inside. That sweets are hidden from you - not because you look at this raffaella now and get sick as soon as you imagine its taste. That the bicycle had only one star and that the rear brakes worked when the pedals turned back. Let the catapots on the wheels hang, colored wire spikes wrapped and all - now you are, just not real, incredibly cool! And fill your sports fields, just give the field: two backpacks dropped and all the football gates ready, today you are Zinedine Zidane.
And in the winter night, that the street is full of dirt, the blackness is invisible, and you have buried in two blankets, in the room a candle burns... warm... you lie down, looking at the naked branches behind the window... and well.

At the lesson, one student correctly answered all the questions of the teacher, which provoked a classmate to a contemptible comment: "Botanic!"
The teacher made her notice that it would not hinder a more respectful treatment of, possibly, the future employer.
The man added, “It’s unlikely. I don’t plan on becoming a snooker.”