My Blog: jokes funny jokes
I went on Friday to my uncle to the country house in the village. The visit was accompanied by a plentiful libation. On Sunday afternoon it was decided to return home. Ivanych and I went to the bus stop, which was on the road, but across the field. After already passing half the field, we suddenly noticed that the bus that was supposed to drive us leaves, but obviously without us. Next in two hours. Return zapadlo. I say: - Ivanitch, do not be afraid. I know the place here. Let's go to the next village, km 1.5, there buses every half hour to the station go. In short, let's go. We found a stop. We stand, smoke, wait. We smoke, we wait, we stand. Probably about an hour stood. Suddenly a grandmother passes by and unobtrusively asks: - Guys, do you happen to wait for a bus here? - Yes Yes! Granny, himself, How much will he go? And then there is nothing to schedule. "Actually, the bus has not been there for two years ... Ivanych was very happy ...
Visiting the patient
Two friends (one of them is my wife, the second is also very well know) decided to visit a sick girlfriend. All three Natashki, so we'll just call them Two Girlfriends and the Sick. The patient is really sick, got cold, the temperature was over 38. After a while I was bored one and I asked to visit them. Oil painting: two Girlfriends sit at a table and vying to express their sympathy, A sick man rushes between a stove, a table and a refrigerator, serves Girlfriends. In addition, he still has time to respond to sympathy in his address. My arrival only added her work. As a result, after two hours and 2 liters of wine, the patient became much better. All the healthy people danced and sang karaoke.
Anecdote about Chukchi
I work as a manager and on a duty of service I communicate with clients. The clients came - the Yakuts. That is, according to the passport - such as Gorokhov Ivan Ivanovich, and according to the faces - poured Mongoloids from the history textbook. People are far from frail. Complexion of the type of new Russians. Gold nuts on the fingers. Gymnasts with brunettes - a mustache like people. And now they are sitting with their backs to the door to the study. And they talk with me. And in many so to speak. There are individuals in the collectives. Which are all heard, about which stories are told. And such a person we call him Alexei - appears on the threshold of my office. And rattles the bottles of beer. Seeing the guests, and me, not seeing their faces - they are back to him - suddenly yelled: - Max! A new joke about the Chukchi did not hear! The faces of my guests turn to him - and about horror he sees two Chukchi muzzles - the New Russian Yakuts. And their interest in listening to an anecdote. So here is Alexei. The jaw falls slowly and the hair on the head rises. I just discharged the situation a little. Said: - Alexei, consider that he has already told an anecdote. Laughter was - about 30 minutes.
Cottage cheese with raisins
It was my son of two years and we lived in a hostel (1994). In addition to students, as you know, insects always live in hostels. And the little boy is a sociable boy and was well acquainted with both the first and the second. But with the products the sign was weak and not with everyone (1994 - total deficit). I got to try it "Cottage cheese with IZUM". The young zoologist looked at the plate and firmly stated: "Flies!" We rushed to calm him: - What are you, zainka, it's not flies. Then, "Zainka", full of noble anger, trembling lips asked: "Ta-ra-kaa-ny!" - No, what are you? This is raisins! - we hastened to explain, in order to avoid the continuation of zoological interpretations. - Phew! Raisins! - Sadly said "Zainka," since he was not familiar with such an animal. And acquiesce flatly refused, as we persuaded. And when we tried to show by personal example how delicious this rating is, our rating has fallen dramatically and we were right next to the aborigines of Australia and Africa who eat live worms.
There was a case in the glorious city of Obninsk, Russia, the year so in 92. There was from ancient times the Obninsk branch of MEPhI (OF MEPhI), in 1985 it was successfully renamed to the now well-established and even quite decent Obninsk Institute of Nuclear Power Engineering (IAE). So, it means that at the IAE there is a half-seminar / semi-lecture on some computer topic. I (the teacher) tell about the peculiarities and difficulties of creating a user interface in literate and good Russian. As examples, I quote all the standard labels on the TurboHXX push buttons and say that here it's not always easy to find a good translation that would fit on the button, and would definitely be understood by a Russian user, far from the world of bytes and files. The group I was then was a deliberate, active, plus the girls were there - just at least immediately send to the top model. And here is one such shroud from the front desk, wanting to contribute to the lecture and show activity, to my, by God, vow, innocent rhetorical question - Will it be correct to translate word for word Change like Change? Gives a cue - Yes, indeed, it is unclear with whom .... The whole male part of the group slid under the tables, and then always tried to check the interface on the girls (in addition to using them for their intended purpose) ...
An agitated intellectual
There was a time when I worked in one academic institute of the Academy of Sciences. And then one morning he goes into the labor camp - an intellectual in the third generation, refined extremely, and at the same time she is under sixty. And she feels that she is very excited. And he says to me: - You imagine, I just got SUCHED IN THE REJECT !!! It turned out that someone had driven into her Zhiguli.
There was a case in the glorious city of Marburg, where I happened to study in 1995-96. Our main occupation was, of course, drinking beer at home and in local beerhouses ("kneippas"), which in 80,000 Marburg times three times more than in my own 1.5 millionth E-burg. One day, my friend and I fell for an excursion to a local brewery. For the sake of this case, I did not drink beer for two whole days, anticipating the tasting in such cases. Expectations were not deceived. On the appointed day near the building of the brewery a small crowd of undergraduates (Germans) gathered, to which we also joined. After an hour's hike through the brewery with the participation of its director, everyone was invited to a tasting. Everything is in order with a snack. The director pushed a toast for the development of small businesses and rushed. German students, Germans, were transformed into ordinary litrobolists before our very eyes. Director, too, pretty nakushalsya. We did not lag behind, but we tried to keep ourselves within the framework. At this time, the Germans were already shouting loudly, grabbing for the outstanding places of a few students and were ready to sing the folk songs. After a while, the beer in the barrel of the tasting room ended. The people demanded the continuation of the banquet. With the authorization of the director, the people carried out a march to the warehouse and brought a few more boxes ... The lawlessness lasted about five hours. I already started to feel some overflow and moved home. But the happiest thing happened to me in the morning. Waking up in the morning in a terrible state (still hung over a beer - the most terrible), I thoughtlessly went to 9-00 for a couple (which you can not do with drinking). Food, therefore, on the bus, I'm troubled, the state of the body, like a heated bottle of champagne. At one thought about Marburg beer, about beer in general, and about any liquid, the stomach starts to vibrate reflexively. And at one point the bus overtakes the car, on which arshin letters (of course, in German) is written ... yes yes ... MARBURG BEER. RS I very successfully managed to jump out of the bus and empty my stomach in a nearby park ...
New form of payment
There was at us a lady who catastrophically confused words. For example, one of her pearls is "in twenty rides from here". But here is the biggest her masterpiece - telling something, instead of "gave it all vacation" blurted out - "gave all the monthly". The people were surprised at first. And then he laughed and laughed for a long time, exchanging opinions - this is where now this form of payment.
My wife and I had a tradition: in the morning, as soon as the alarm clock rang, one of us climbed, put on the el. Stove kettle with a whistle and again went to bed. And when the water boiled and there was a deafening whistle in the apartment, we finally woke up and started to get ready for work. So, according to the established algorithm, I did a wonderful sunny morning - jumped up, set the kettle, flopped back. I fell asleep. I wake up from the fact that the whole apartment is in the smoke - a wicker straw stand stuck to the bottom of the kettle. Well, I knocked her down in the sink, swore, put the kettle on another burner (I did not clean the fouled in my morning schedule), well, and went to bed. I fell asleep. I wake up because the whole apartment is in smoke. (My wife sleeps) I run out into the kitchen, where it turns out that I turned on a completely different cooking zone-the third, on which stood a cast-iron frying pan with the remains of our dinner ... But this is all garbage. I took it with my bare hands ...
We had a secretary at the firm, so pretty, just shooting your head. It causes it to be commercial and says: - Tanya, Sasha and I are going to Moscow on Wednesday "night horse", book tickets for the train. Tanya leaves and returns in 5 minutes. With an anxious face she says to the director: "Tatyana Alexandrovna, there is no such train" night horse ".
Kitten to whom?
From the dialogue in ICQ: - A kitten to whom? Qualitative. Almost not yuzaniy, 2 months total. Manned. There is a wool (cheerful black and white coloring), paws (4 pcs), a mustache (uncountable) and a rumble (built-in). The subject has the function of urinating in the toilet, lying on the TV dangling his tail on the screen and irrepressible cheerfulness. The function of the food is simply fine-tuned: with pleasure, even bread and pasta are eaten. And also a unique self-cleaning system. And all this happiness I give away just so, for good people do not mind! - Brand? Glitches are not present? Upgrade? Manibek? Guarantee? Mouse recognizes?
My older friends warned me that pregnancy and childbirth have a negative effect on the brain, that is to say, you stop thinking something completely. Recently I had the opportunity to see this. In the hospital, it means that we adapted ourselves to drink tea with condensed milk, so that the milk would come. And you have to eat in the dining room as: while the baby is sleeping, quickly eat soup, grab the second and tea or compote and rush into the room: what if your miracle has woken up? So, somehow I, feeling that the daughter will soon wake up and I do not have time to finish my tea, grabbed a mug, ran into the room, hurriedly condensed quickly and was sitting quietly. Then I look, in a circle something floats, at times disappearing in the condensed thickets. Strange, I think that they put in tea? Half an hour I caught this garbage. I caught it. Long considered, could not understand what it was, then found out that some kind of berry. Strange, I think, what kind of tea is this? Okay, I think, I will not be dressed. I started to drink: but what is it, why so cold and vile? Only in the middle of the circle realized that it was actually a compote!
Once I rode the capital on a bus from Fili for 1905. Long ride. At some point, crossed the avenue. This prospect looked natural, as after a good air assault strike. And the sign was corresponding: "Works lead Su-25".
I was at the hydrological faculty of the deputy deputy, named Sekan (or maybe Sikan - that's not the point). And now one applicant had to settle in the hostel. Knowing people advised her to turn to Sekana. She goes to the dean's office and asks, they say, do not tell me where I can find the secune hydrological faculty. The most resourceful of those present suggested that he was in a sekanate.
There was once I'm with a friend at his girl's house. We sit in the kitchen, drink coffee, and the girl's mother rested in the bedroom. And during a leisurely conversation I mentioned that there is a contagion in Moscow and I have a morbid state for two days already. To which the girl responds that, they say, like: - I have an apartment, too, some kind of infection goes. A friend, not looking up from a cup of coffee (so sad): - Yes, he walks. Only now she is SLEEPING.
I was in America in the 90's. Director of the CIA - Robert Gates. Being already retired, he wrote a most interesting book, a passage from which I propose to your attention. The story is real and confirmed. In the sixties, as is known, relations between the USSR and China began to deteriorate rapidly. Mutual insults and slander on the party level have become the norm. Well, if members of the CPSU and the CCP treat each other as enemies, respectively, and at a lower level, following the installation from above, ordinary Russians and Chinese did not honor each other either. Now imagine. One of the sections of the Soviet-Chinese border. Almost every day, Chinese border guards lined up, took off their pants and showed their asses to the USSR, watching binoculars for the reaction of Russian border troops. One day Soviet soldiers got fed up with this and a radical and witty decision was made. When the Chinese comrades once again lined up on the bank and bare their asses, Soviet soldiers in response picked up from the ground factory posters depicting ... Mao Zedong. Seeing his leader in the binoculars, the Chinese commander instantly gave the order to put on his pants. More our border guards on the other side of the border bare bare ass. Unfortunately, the book does not describe whether one of the Chinese was shot for this disgrace or not. The book also says nothing about whether someone from the Soviet command was awarded a medal for wit.
I came to my girlfriend. And her bed is small, well, and settled on the floor (in the sense of just lying down and chatting), no intimacy ... Almost ...) In general, we lie, she laid her head on my feet ... We rest. Here comes the girl's mother, looks at this picture (not the first time already sees this) and gives out a pearl: - Lord! Yes, this is for you for the SEXUAL DISEASE this! With laughter all died ... nervous Lecture at night
There were times when I came home from work late and my husband, laying our five-year-old son, did not tell him fairy tales, like most parents, but gave small popular science lectures. My son liked it and when, against custom, I had the honor to put him, he turned to me with a request: "Tell me about the laser, or about the molecules." Then he looked at me, thought, and continued: - Or at least about the kolobok.
Were somehow with her husband in a toy store. He saw one radio-controlled car and caught fire: I want, he says, to give his nephew for the holidays - let the child be glad. Well, we bought it. Time passed by, about the nephew is not a word. Now he is sitting at the computer, he works, the remote from the car is next to him - she to him, when I'm in the kitchen, she goes for a beer to me.
I had a birthday with a good friend of mine. Of course, we drank. And our two friends, husband and wife, left the holiday two hours earlier. The rest of the company, somewhere around 1 in the morning, remembered the departed. And decided to visit them. Walking feet an hour, no more. In stalls in passing, was bought, of course, an additional drink. So we walked, sang songs. Already on the way to the house of friends, I stumble and my glasses fall. They fall into the basement window, closed by a lattice. It seems that the object is visible, but not accessible (the grid interferes). Of the guys, we were two - me and my friend. Further from the words of my wife. I tell my friend - guard your glasses. I recall - the birthday, drunk a lot, they were singing songs. And my wife and I go up to my friend's apartment. We call, the door opens, we are admitted. We explain the situation: glasses behind the bars, they seem to be pathetic, the frame of money costs. And I already fell asleep in the armchair in the hallway. My friend got into trouble and went to save points. He goes out into the street and only reached for the points, then comes out into the arena a friend who PROTECTED glasses. He fucks my friend in the forehead with all his foolishness. There was an easy fight, because not everyone immediately understood where ours are, and where the Germans are. A friend told next morning the next - I lie, sleep, wake up in the middle of the night, lead to the street and to the LOB. Here too after all a situation.
There were times when our "smaller brothers" from Southeast Asia not only made mistakes in the markets, but also struck hard at the construction sites of the national economy. The case took place in the usual construction. The foreman is given to the brigade of several people of such bright and clever Vietnamese brothers. Having sent the greater part of the brigade to engage in "intellectual work" in dragging heavy loads, he left one (most clever in his opinion) for a specific task - concreting a small hole in the floor on the first floor. Before that, various works were done in the basement and not to drag the generator into the basement, in the floor for the cable a hole with a diameter of about 20 centimeters was punched. Here it was necessary to seal it. Instructions were minimal, because the technology of conducting work is simple to disgrace. In short, a shovel is there, a car with a solution here, a hole here! After 2 hours, the "brother" resorted and the soldier reported to the foreman: "Commander, the solution is over!" The superintendent is slowly making off, well, for two hours he was hanging around somewhere, but where, damn, is the car of the solution of cases, the businessman? He went to check, and that he sees - the worker grabs a shovel of mortar and splashes into the hole all the time. The mortar slowly falls into the lower room with a solid slap. Instead of supporting it from below and shoveling a hole with one shovel, this craftsman famously threw the mortar machine into the basement, apparently enjoying the process itself. The rest of the day the Vietnamese brigade dragged the solution back ...
I had a friend. Or rather, it is now, but it is far from me. So that's it. I do not remember when, but we began to call each other "Dear", and so we nicknamed each other, that already by name we stopped calling: we are all DEAR (even my box with floppy disks I signed - Clients were frightened: they thought that my services were at a higher price, but the story is not about that ...) One day, DEAR and I were in a terrible hurry and caught the car. We stopped all such mannered toned 99th. Behind the wheel - a person of Caucasian nationality. Smiling joyfully, the person informed us that he would take us anywhere and for free, if it was to him along the way. It turned out - along the way. We sat down with the road as usual: I - in the front seat next to the driver, and the EXPENSIVE - behind. We had such a dialogue with the road: - Honey, why do you always put me on the front seat? "Because you always look good ..." "Darling, you're flattering me again ... Flattering all day ... For the rest of the road the face of Caucasian nationality did not smile and did not say a word, but when we reached the house and left the car, "Thank you," shouted: "Wait ... Do not be afraid (seeing our surprised faces) - I do not need anything from you, just say: nevertheless, who among you flatterers ?!
Potatoes are large, potatoes are small
We were last summer at training camps (students pass such at the military department) in the military unit near Sablino. So, there was such a barn, where vegetables and canned food for soldiers are stored. There were four huge boxes for potatoes with the following inscriptions (from left to right): "potatoes large", "medium potatoes", "small potatoes" and "potatoes" Ruchi ". PS: Sorry, maybe not funny, but the truth.
Thank you, Vaso!
I had a car in 1992, my native 2106, 1600, all cases, a diplomat. I adored her right away was not. But sometimes it was crappy for nothing. Somehow I leave the office of the clock at 8 pm. On the street no one (the case in St. Petersburg, Rzhevka, Kosygin Avenue). I get in the car - do not start. The battery died. I took off my pince-pin with pockets, pushed it down (parked in my pocket), jumped into it - almost grabbed. Back to the peas, she eatolkal, again down, jump - well, almost grabbed! Again it in the hills (but already slower), down, jump, almost! He took off his shirt, dragged her, blushing, naked, on the peas, pushed, jumped, no words how close it was. I stand, sweat pours. Then behind her in a soft voice: "Brother, do not have the strength to look, eat the tomato." I look around, I look - a man, from Azerbaijan or Dagestan, young, with a tomato. - Thank you, I say, could you help me? - No, just eat tomato, I can not help, we argue about you for money! Ok, I think the pancake life is a toadstool, again pushed, jump into it - nyoer !!! Then I furious, back her, kick her in the face, swear at her, down, into her, fuck! Back, the current was ready to push - behind the stamping: three guys and the same with a tomato from a stall with wild faces: - Sad, shout, sit down, push, Vaso ran out of money !!! I sat down, started, left, thank you, Vaso!
Sir in the eye
I had a friend Lucy. She is a very sociable girl. And very brave. Because when the evening comes home, from the subway goes on foot. Often she goes with someone in the company, so it's not so scary. And then, one day she walks home through the darkness of Izmaylova, and with her there is a decent gentleman, about thirty-five years old, with a briefcase in her glasses. They go, they talk about this and that. Suddenly, the topics for conversation end. There is an alarming pause, which stretches and stretches. Ten minutes. Finally, the fellow traveler suddenly asks, with a cunning little fellow, in Lenin's words: "Do you know what's in my portfolio?" Lusya was frightened. Is it not enough that a person in a portfolio can have? I do not even want to think about it. Mister in ochochkah, without waiting for an answer, mysteriously smiles and says: "Bu-babies are different ..."
We had a teacher in our school. Taught physics. At the age she was already far away as a pension and she had already heard a little bad. But she was emotional, she always spoke with an expression and was very fond of showing her hands about what she is telling. Naturally, everyone often poked fun at her, she gave plenty of reasons. Once she explained to the class how the neutrons of the uranium nucleus bombarded them and how they split. Showing on the hands how the nucleus behaves, she says: "The nucleus is bombarded with neutrons." And now, under the impact of strikes, it begins to stretch. And so it stretches, stretches, stretches, and ... Then, glancing around the class, she pauses, as though searching for words to express her thoughts. At this moment, from somewhere near the back of the desk, it's heard quite loudly: - X ## to! - Yes! "Says the little girl, and with such relief that it was the very word she was looking for. Indeed, how else can the uranium nucleus split? The class of twenty minutes was lying on the desks.
Bill Gates. The Creation of Microsoft
I was at the book fair yesterday. Various shops and publishing houses sent their representatives there. The room is small, but the people are full. Books are not only on the tables of representatives, but also in boxes. And disassembled more or less on the topics: a box with cookbooks, a box of science fiction, etc. ... I go to the next drawer, see what's behind the books. The first thing that catches your eye is "Bill Gates. The Creation of Microsoft." Well, I think that for the topic? Computers or biographies? I look at the next book - "Famous psychopaths" ...
Cotton, you sho ?!
We were somehow with a friend Zhenya in the glorious city of Kiev on the student line of the year in 1984. Among other attractions visited the Bessarabian market. Zhenya - he is a southern person, with Odessa roots, decided to buy cheese, which at that time in our northern Estonian lands did not work ... We went to my aunt, asked how much it cost, asked for gram 500, we pull out the money. Suddenly we see - the grandmother somehow was confused, it is direct in the person has changed: - Hloptsi, vi sho ?! Now we are perplexed: - And what is it? And then my aunt gives out: - ... And PO-O-O-TRADE-A-HADDEN ?!
JOURNEY IN GERMANY.
I tell you from the very beginning. One of my friends (together they served in Mozdok), said that it would be nice to meet. I wanted to surprise him. He is a big man there, repairs the buses, built a two-story house on credit for five years, bought a car, but did not marry. With all the truths and crooks having collected documents for a visa for three weeks (gave for her one and a half thousand, including various insurance), I began to read reviews of those who were already there. It is not comforting. Bread expensive, expensive meat, vodka - even more so. I typed a full bag of stew, 1l a bottle of vodka (no more), a block of strong cigarettes and the last money (total 8200r). He disassembled and smeared his gun, and his parts and cartridges hid between the banks. He also took a raincoat-tent, a package of matches, hooks, a line and a backpack, so that it would be convenient to carry. I drove to Moscow. The same garbage as five years ago. Neubrano, cops at every step, but do not seem to stick. I drove to the embassy, filed papers, said to wait until the day after tomorrow. I slept twice on the roof of the nearest house to the embassy, I had to cut the lock with a hacksaw. I ate the stew and tried to keep myself quiet. Moscow after all. At midnight he came to the embassy. Wow, a visa was given (and the Fuhrers had evil faces at the interview, I thought they would not). Only came out, I was surrounded by various freaks selling tickets for the bus. The money had to be saved, therefore, two hours of driving through them to << offices >>, bought a ticket to Berlin and back. They wanted to tear off four thousand, to the offices >> but it was a shit they did, they paid three and a half, although they promised that they would land me directly on the border with Poland. He said that without problems. They asked how I would get to Berlin. He showed me a raincoat, told me about the stew. They were surprised. It seems as if there are some rich people on the bus to Germany. Strange Check out in two hours! I bought another bottle of vodka, so it was more fun to go to the border. Traffic jams in Moscow, Mozhaisk, then Minsk (there was no inspection), then Grodno. Stop at the customs. They said that Belarusians will look first, then Poles. I went to the toilet (Belarusian territory). The entrance is 300 rubles. Came out. Descended into the bushes. Then I learned that 300 rub Belarusian, our less than 5p. Freaks. Announced another 160r of some environmental charges from the nose. Refused to pay. We started the procedure for getting off the bus. Has paid. At customs (in prikol!) Things do not look! The cutoff could not be disassembled, but to collect a full bag of cartridges, covering them with rags. The Belarusians did not look at the bags at all, but the Poles were asked to open and immediately close. I bought more vodka in duti-frey (expensive, about 250 rub) and immediately drank, I ate it with stew (local snack too expensive). Further I remember badly, only woke up in Poland. Fed soup and potatoes with meat. Delicious. The German customs only looked at the passport. Did not land, as promised, drove to Berlin. I went out there by the station. Surprise. The saleswoman in the book was looking for Lorup long (my friend lives there) and said (wrote on a piece of paper) 400km. In German, I do not boom, like it is in Russian, so I could not explain how to get to. I gave it to her. Gave her a jar of stew. From a pack of cigarettes refused. At the ticket kiosk after an hour of debate (eventually, the Russian came in) found out that the ticket costs more than seven thousand in one direction. Freaks. He said that I'll walk. Asked to draw a pen handle the route, long perlis, but painted. Potsdam Brunswick Hanover Bremen Lorup. For almost 6 days I crossed this route, along with the rest and food. I tried not to show myself in public near the road. After passing the first kilometer, I went into the forest. I collected the bleed. I went further. I slept at night in a raincoat, I did not make a fire (it was warm). The easiest way was to go from Brunswick to Hanover, where a fellow traveler threw me up (I realized that with a raised hand along the road it was useless to stop, I just found out in Brunswick how to go further, and the man explained by signs that he was going there and drove). The greatest difficulty arose immediately after. Passing 10 km from Hanover, I ended with stew. I had to eat it, but after another 10 km I accidentally stumbled upon a lake in the town of SteinNude. Hardly searching, I found some good worms and a solid stick. The fishing rod was ready. Pisces in Germany is very much and catch it simply. I built a small fire, I cooked fish, ate, and prepared the rest for future use and was about to put out a fire when a man in jeans and a rucksack came running. He argued for a long time, splashed saliva. When I realized that I did not understand anything, I explained by signs that his name was Baur. I realized that the topic was stupid and did not seem to be. Persuaded to show a passport, said that it is impossible to breed a fire. I showed it to the harvested fish, I almost cried. I did not want to listen to it, I was going to leave. He did not let me. I took out my purse, showed 100 euros, began to prove to me that I owe them. I pushed him away (I used to fight racketeers in my town once, there is an experience). I walked around the lake. After walking 500 meters, I heard a shot from behind me. He lay down, dug in as he could, took out a cut-off, loaded it. I watch two people go, the one who screamed at me, the second is younger and looks like a person (son, probably). The people are not prepared, they run ten meters away from me, but they do not see, they do not even recharge the gun, and the gun is loaded with Lokhov's salt, the salt is charged with the campaign. He ran up to the one who was older, knocked the butt with his butt, took his gun. The young man fell to his knees. In Russian, neither boom boom. But they realized that I would shoot, if they jerk. I began to cry, I left my purse. Yes, I did not intend to beat them, they themselves climbed on to the trouble. I took the money with the gun (the rifle was thrown away later). These fag-fangs to the tree with a fishing line, so that they do not twitch. Running for 15 minutes ran to Hagenburg, a small town. I bought new pants (in the purse of Baur it was almost 200 euros), jacket, went to the local hairdresser, sheared and shaved. The rest of the money was given to the taxi driver, he drove me to the town of Melle. It was not on the road, but still closer. Then Baur's money ran out, and I did not plan to spend my money on a taxi. Well, a day and a half before the friend came. On the way the fish ended, which I caught, but in the local forests there are a lot of hares, I shot a little of them. Two weeks we went to water parks, smoked drugs in Holland (she was there, and the customs post was unguarded), filmed aunts and generally felt great. And then he took me back to Berlin on his Mitsubishi. It is not interesting to tell in detail, on the one hand I do not remember everything, on the other hand they met me exactly as they should meet friends. The Russians will understand me. A common opinion: everything that is written about Germany is nonsense. Money for life there is not particularly needed, suckers are much more than we have, the streets are better to be cleaned, and on cars one freaks go. It seems that if you put a limit of 5 km / h on their road, they will go that way. In general, it's very similar to Kaluga's native land, but it's worth looking for (though if our janitor pays such money as the Fuhrers pay their own, he'll start cleaning the street's language). There are no wooden houses, and all the windows have plastic windows. And another friend said that the state gave him a refrigerator. We would. He gave him a saucer, he laughed like a child. Back traveled by bus without adventures. We fed in Poland again with the same soup. In Belarus, he ate on his own money. Back at the customs Belarusians shmonali well, although obrez would still not notice. I brought back a half thousand back home. Mom cried with joy. Soon again to the factory. I will not go any more. Boring there, the right ones are all too much.