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Last year's snow fell I go buy something to chew during overtime hours and see a picture of Repin. Given: in the lobby between the doors there is a little man, well, exactly of the pre-revolutionary kind to whom Vanka Zhukov wrote a letter to the village - grandpa, in a word. All ranks are ranked - a padded jacket of light protective color, dark protective color of cotton trousers, healthy boots with shiny galoshes, three and three men from Last Year's Snow Fell - all three ears in different directions, and two cords hang loose.
A beard with a mustache - in short, a find for the director of some historical film. So, this little man stands half-bomzhovogo look (but not bum - there is some kind of inner composure, correctness Domostroevskaya) and with a serious look walking around on a cell phone at the cost of at least a half bucks. I am quietly scrolling from this picture, and he ends the conversation, puts the phone under his quilted jacket, leaves the department store, sits in a silver Lexus and takes it from its place so that “Oh, three, bird three” comes to mind.
Wet swimming trunks . Yesterday, I was sitting with friends and watched the picture: Dad and his little son went to wash their hands in the bathroom. The son sees in a basin a soaked large wash with daddy's swimming trunks lying on top, raises his head and, with understanding, sympathetically asks:
- What, dad, signed up?
Transistor Once, at the dawn of our family life, my husband woke me up at four in the morning and in a completely calm and awake voice said loudly to me: - Nadia! The transistor has three legs! One to the collector, the other to the emitter, and the third to the base.
Then he turned away and snored.
The next morning he did not remember anything. But I remembered about the transistor for life.
Nobody noticed? It was a long time ago when “open” lessons were regularly held in schools, with more teachers than students. There was such a lesson, either in history or in geography, and the teacher was just on the beat, she wrote the whole board in three layers, the story was exciting, both adults and children were sitting with their mouths open. After the lesson, the teacher anxiously asked her female colleagues:
- Well, how? Nobody noticed?
- What?
It turns out that in the middle of the lesson, an eraser, sorry, on her panties burst, and they slipped from under her skirt to the floor.
Without interrupting the story, she stepped out of them, lifted them from the floor and began to wash them off the chalk with a rag.
What color was the panties, the story is silent ...
The cat ... My sister Olya approaches the buffet with a decisive gait, takes the cookbook ("On Tasty and Healthy Food") looks at the kitten very seriously, then sits down, opens the book with a sigh and loudly commenting on the table of contents:
- Kol ... con ... com ... Oh! Found - a cat ...
I'm getting colder from bad premonitions.
- What? I ask in a quivering voice?
- Yes, I want to fry cutlets ...
Is it a zoo? It was in a completely pink childhood, in some class.
We called with the same child as I am stunned by an arbitrary number and asked a question amazing in its originality:
- Is it a zoo?
(This is followed by a no less elegant passage: when you are told that this is not a zoo, you, giggling idioticly, ask:
- Why then is the monkey on the phone?)
After dialing the next number and asking a sacramental question, for a short time while the person on the other end of the line was thinking about the answer, I could hear the ringing of dishes, a young female voice, the voice of an elderly woman (both of which were raised), and blocked all other sounds children's cry. After a second pause, a tired male voice answered me:
- Nearly...
A laptop on the floor My friend left the laptop on the floor halfway under the bed. His aunt thought it was a scales and got up to control her 90 kg ... The screen split in two, and the guy was waiting for him for 2 months from the service.
Do not leave laptops on the floor!
Hidden camera In the summer there was one case in the country.
An electrician climbs onto a pole with wires: everything is as it should be - in cats, tied with a chain, wire cutters in his hands, starts messing around with wires, and a boy of about twelve appears next, holding a video camera in his hands and starts shooting an electrician (on camera). Five minutes pass - the boy takes off.
Ten minutes pass - the boy takes off. Fifteen minutes elapses - the electrician asks: - Boy, why are you shooting me and filming me (on camera), huh?
And the boy says:
- And it’s me, uncle, I want to send an eyewitness to you, how you will fall from here when you get an electric shock !!!
Prop! Beams! Overlapping! There are no cooler jokes than in life, you just need to be able to identify them from the environment. For example, imagine a picture: a son-in-law and a mother-in-law are sitting at a table. The son-in-law takes out a small neat A4-size drawing and starts screaming:
- Supports! Beams! Overlapping! Priming! Frame!
To which the mother-in-law takes out the same professional, but slightly different drawing and shouts in response:
- Overlapping! Dew point! Condensate!
Already a little funny, isn't it? And if I say that this picture is repeated almost every day for six months now? The fact is that the son-in-law (design engineer of heavy engineering plants) and the mother-in-law (design engineer of oil refineries) can not agree on how the toilet should be built in the country ...
So I’m thinking - where did I come from, freak programmer in a family of hereditary builders?
30 rules of an extra-class mistress. Men love sex, they love women who love sex, is it worth it to be shy and repeat for bad lovers, and just not very smart women << they only need this ... >>.
After all, we certainly know that this is not so!
1. You can’t make love on a full stomach, weighed down by a hearty dinner, otherwise the man will be lethargic and sleepy, and the blood will rush to the stomach, and not where you need to.
2. For a "eating" and drinking before sex, aphrodisiac products are best suited:
- seafood;
- oysters (by the way, Casanova adored them);
- milkshake with fresh fruits;
- omelette;
- sandwiches with caviar;
- a glass of aniseed vodka;
- chops with garlic and other << garlic >> dishes (there are always two of them!);
- chocolate;
- cedar and any other nuts;
- sour cream and fresh herbs;
- spicy, but not very high-calorie dishes;
- vegetable and fruit salads, as well as fresh fruits and vegetables;
- spicy dishes (I think you've heard more than once about the temperament of Caucasians);
- mulled wine (in large doses causes drowsiness);
- punch (in large doses causes a violation of coordination of movements);
- a glass of cognac;
- glass of wine;
- a cup of cocoa, strong tea or coffee.

3. A good lover always knows what her man wants. She guesses it or feels it, calculates it using the selection method, and with enough experience it even applies probability theory. Sex ends in bed, and begins with thoughts and conversations, trust and shared experiences. Men make love with their brains, not << one place >>, but only fuck with women who don’t understand this.

4. It is necessary not to think, but to give the man what he wants, to overwhelm him with caresses, to fulfill whims, but not to be intrusive in personal relationships (for example, “torture” with his calls, demanding attention to himself). The strongest networks are invisible. It is them who skillfully seductress braids the body, soul and brain of a man.

5. More geisha knew the surest means for a “love spell” - copying gestures, words, facial expressions of men. Psychologists say that the easiest way to achieve the location of a new acquaintance is by copying it. Probably, the establishment of contact occurs subconsciously, based on ancient instincts, which can still be seen in animals. The interlocutor takes you for a member of his pack, as if together you perform a ritual dance. Contact has feedback. You begin to better understand the interlocutor, which means that you better meet his expectations.

6. The lover of the extra class does not allow herself to become a “tunic”, who buys clothes at her own whim or in her own, not very good, taste. To correspond, without even seeing the chosen one - this is a preliminary setting for the man of your dreams. You have to approach the issue of clothes from a completely different perspective, from the side of a man who is looking at you for the first time. But he does not look at clothes at all, but at you as a whole. And he doesn't give a damn about the cost of your outfit. The maximum that the average man is able to calculate is that a woman is dressed from the Chinese market or from an expensive store. Clothing is often paid attention to when it << does not go >>.

7. The main thing in a relationship with a man is to first give everything that you have, without thinking about yourself, without selfishness and miscalculations of what will happen next, without fear of spoiling, and then get triple for it.

8. You should not look into a man’s eyes after the first night spent together with the question: << When will you come next time? >>. It is very important for a man to feel like a master. Calling him at home and at work, you put him in an uncomfortable position in front of his colleagues, and maybe another woman, with whom he will not part until he makes sure that you are better. Why spoil everything from the very beginning? So, a good lover will never allow herself to be intrusive.

9. Men least of all love when they are presented with a tough choice. The man is lost, embittered and ... makes completely illogical acts, in which he then repents for a long time. Why check his feelings for strength, if the same forces can be used to make them stronger?

10. Complaining to a man is the last thing. As a rule, our problems seem insignificant and ridiculous to them, and complaints - by female whims. These men have REAL problems, we can talk about them for hours. So, when it comes to life's difficulties, rely on yourself, forget that you have a loved one, or turn to him only in an extreme and really serious case.

11. For the most part, men don’t give a damn, in any case, at first, do you feel pleasure in bed. Only very few men can recognize a pretender portraying passion. Not the woman’s passion, but her desire flatters men's vanity. Many ordinary-looking and stupid women won the hearts of smart, handsome and non-poor men only because they clearly understood this rule. Only by making yourself loved, you can demand affection that will lift you to the heights of pleasure.

12. There is a misconception that men do not like smart people. Not smart, but those who overly demonstrate their minds, pointing to a man on the gaps in his knowledge. An intelligent woman never shows that she is smarter, does not emphasize her superiority in any way.

13. The ability to make a house beautiful and comfortable has not harmed anyone. Any husband and wife are pleased to come to the house, in which order smells good (in everyday terms, order and smell are almost synonyms).

14. An extra-class lover knows that falling in love with men is much less important than for women. You should not torture a man, forcing him to tell << how much you love me >>. Men such behavior leads to the idea that women have only all kinds of romantic nonsense on their minds, and therefore, they are stupid like geese.

15. Even if a man has gone on a walk, you should not << torture him with suspicions >>, all the same, he will not be recognized. Being on the other side of the barricade, that is, being a mistress, is also not worth << placing tags >>: stain his things with lipstick and irrigate perfume, scratch his back in a fit of passion. He is not your property.

16. The following rule: never teach a man to live. We all do not like moral instruction from the school bench, and many do not like their parents because of moral instruction. You don’t want to be like them?

17. The ability to forgive is also the ability not to recall past mistakes. Forgiving means forgetting ... or pretending to have forgotten.

18. An extra-class lover knows: all men are obsessed with the thought that they want to use them, rob them and let them go around the world. Nothing scares off in the first days and months of acquaintance, like commercialism.

19. Coquetry is our weapon, if applied to a place and wisely. The task of a sexy woman is to make it clear that although she is a female, she is by no means a cheap whore.

20. An extra-class lover knows that jumping up after the first (and subsequent) nights and running off to paint and wash is silly. Most men like to “have mercy” in the morning, they like women without a “war paint”. And if you are shy, buy waterproof mascara or make a light tattoo.

21. It is foolish to think that a man with serious intentions will hold a pause and not call for several weeks. The man who liked you is likely to call within three days, the rest is probably an attempt to use you << on a baby ». It makes no sense to wait, as well as to be “led” to offers that were received in a few weeks, or else to be >> and months.

22. An extra-class lover never picks about her appearance, knowing that most men are fleeing from the squeezed and notorious, and not from the chubby and non-standard. And even more so, they do not run from partners only because of the size of their breasts.

23. If you want ALL to end quickly:
- squeeze the muscles of the vagina;
- change the position so that inside it becomes “cramped”, and the head of the penis during each friction is stimulated by the cervix;
- pay attention to positions that accelerate the approximation of ejaculation:
knee-elbow in any variation; a woman on her back, with very tight legs (there will not be much difference - they are elongated or raised and bent at chest level); in Hussars - legs lying on the back, women are thrown over the shoulders of the partner; a small fish - a woman on her stomach with legs straightened and very flattened, a man on top;
- take an active position and control the introduction of a member so that it turns out: once - until the very end, and two - only a shallow introduction that stimulates the head;
- active oral stimulation - the perfect completion of sexual intercourse;
- if there is not enough lubricant, use a gel lubricant - this will speed things up;
- whisper to him a few dirty words, maybe this will lead you too;
- if the pose allows, grab the base of the penis with two fingers and additionally stimulate it;
- caress yourself, your excitement is a powerful incentive for a man;
- Ask for a rest, and after about thirty minutes renew your caresses;
- make movements towards him, deeply "sitting down" on a member.
- kiss his ears, neck, scratch his back, squeeze the buttocks with his hands or gently massage the testicles;
- jokingly depict the victim, try to push him slightly and tear himself up, just do not overdo it;
- do not let him go astray;
- Cheer your beloved with loud moans.
24. There are no rules for a free and self-confident woman when and where to surrender to a man for the first or subsequent times. If a woman agrees to intimacy on the very first evening, it does not follow from this that the husband of the rank will consider her a special easy behavior. According to statistics, only thirty percent of men are supporters of the phased development of relationships and courtship.

25. An extra-class lover is never shy about discussing contraception with a man. What is shameful about it? Yes, to a greater extent, protection is your problem, but forcing a man to put on two condoms is also not an option. According to men, if a woman does not agree to sex without a condom in any way (naturally, not at the first meeting, but when the relationship has been going on for some time), the man may have the opinion that she is sick with some kind of sexually transmitted disease or suspects that he may be sick. Both are not very pleasant to realize.
If you do not have money for birth control pills, feel free to ask your man to take part in their purchase. There is nothing shameful in such a request, and the purchase of hormonal contraceptives solves two problems at once: preventing pregnancy and getting complete satisfaction from proximity without a nasty condom.

26. Do not get involved in reading manuals on sexual techniques.
Most of them are not very successful << rehash >> << Kama Sutra >> with comments of a concerned author. The advice of foreigners does not suit us at all. What will your tired husband say after work if you meet him at the door in latex panties? The effect of the sexual revolution may be the opposite - the man will run away to the “traditionalist” who has not been blown up for sex.

27. If you want to extend the pleasure:
- do not let him move too fast;
- relax the muscles of the vagina;
- Ask him to stop frictions for a while;
- change your position;
- pay attention to positions that prolong sexual intercourse: a woman on top, a woman lying on her back, with legs raised and widely spread, on the side << spoons >> (woman with her back to the partner’s face), sitting facing each other;
- in the midst of a member removed from the vagina - and kiss him, only very gently, otherwise it will end even faster;
- ask him to breathe deeper;
- Tell us about the delights of tantric or Taoist sex. Special (by the way, not too complicated) exercises will help control ejaculation for as long as you like.
28. The rule of choosing underwear: buy only what your beloved man likes. Beautiful underwear and bedding are the key to a strong and long relationship and self-confidence.
29. The best smell is the smell of your body, plus a drop of good perfume. Excessive perfection and the smell of sweat (a nightmare vaccinated with advertising!) More often scares men away than the lack of perfume smell.
30. Men love sex, they love women who love sex, is it worth it to be shy and repeat for bad lovers, and just not very smart women << they only need this ... >>.
After all, we certainly know that this is not so!

I would have killed a black man ... I guess I’m not very original, but throughout my stay in the Togolese Republic (short, but very eventful) I repeatedly recalled the lines of Korney Ivanovich Chukovsky, familiar from childhood: << Don’t go, children, to Africa for a walk! >>. And here I go. And it was exotic - more than enough.
Little did not seem.
Aeroflot planes do not fly to Togo. In Moscow there is not even an embassy of this lovely African country. Once it was, but it was closed. I went to Togo in transit, on the way from Ghana to Benin.
A Ghanaian taxi driver drove me to the very border. Numerous black hands with thick wads of money immediately popped into the windows of prehistoric Toyota, opened on the occasion of eternal heat. Street money changers suggested that I exchange Ghanaian cedis, which are valued lower than toilet paper outside Ghana, for the current currency in the territory of Togo and several neighboring countries - CFA francs.
I refused the exchange, since I spent the Ghanaian waste paper without a trace, and the dollars in my pocket could easily endure until I crossed the border and ended up in Togo's capital, the city of Lome. In any case, I thought so at that moment. I got out of the car and asked the driver to open the trunk, where my travel bag was lying. A bag was immediately picked up by a black man and ran towards the state border. Do not think that he wanted to steal it - he just wanted to make some money. In West Africa, on a white man, they want to earn about everything he has to deal with.
With the exception of perhaps the richest, who have already provided for their families with money from the IMF and other philanthropic organizations. I immediately caught a black man by the shoulder and explained that I was quite capable of carrying the bag on my own.
Then he offered his services in another matter - unhindered border crossing. For only 20,000 cedis (that is, three US dollars) I was promised that I would be able to go through 2 border posts and 2 customs out of turn, without searches, waiting and other problems. I looked forward. A small group of black citizens stood in front of the small gates of the border control point, resembling in numbers and organization the clothing market in Luzhniki. And I, unfortunately, accepted the offer made to me.
His friend immediately appeared next to the black man, who at the same time was the best friend of all the border and customs orders of both countries. We really went without any queue. The border guard took my passport and said that all the documents are in order, there are not enough trifles. Small bills - translated best friend.
A paper worth 1 dollar disappeared in the drawer of his desk and the documents were in perfect order. For another $ 1, the customs officer believed that I should not be inspected.
On the neutral strip, the small bucks, alas, are over. And the big problems started. An old one-eyed soldier blocked me and my companions with a rubber club. You can go? I asked. It's hot today - looking with one eye into the bright blue African sky, I noticed a veteran of some kind of African war. I repeated the question.
Eh, I would drink a beer - the soldier hinted. I looked around to see if they were selling beer nearby. Not sold. The smallest banknote in my wallet was worth 500 French francs. With this money in West Africa you can drink a box of beer a day for a month and change will remain.
I reasonably decided that the veteran would be too fat. He reasonably reasoned that such a greedy white man should not be allowed on. Other people wishing to enter Togo calmly passed by one-eyed one, but I stood still and the thirty-five-degree heat inspired me to think that beer would really be very welcome. Then one of my companions came to my aid: Come on, I will pay him, and you will give it to me on the other side. I nodded, the soldier made a fortune of 1000 CFA francs (or, as they are called in Africa, sif), the border crossing process continued.
The next step was the Togolese border guard. Is there a visa? he asked. I prudently received a visa at the Togolese Embassy in Ghana, and therefore proudly showed the right page of my passport to the border guard. This made an extremely negative impression on him. - How much did you pay for it? he asked.
- 20 thousand sif.
- The visa is not valid.
- Why?
- Pay another 20 thousand to me, then it will be valid.
This idea didn’t seem too interesting to me, but here the Negro accompanying me handed two 10 thousand pieces of paper to the border guard and dragged me towards the second customs. The green corridor cost another 1,000. And I finally stepped on the land of Togo. I changed some money, but meanwhile my companions caught a taxi for me. They carefully packed the bag in the trunk, hospitably opened the front door in front of me, and they themselves sat in the back seat.
“Remember, you promised to return the money with which I paid your way?” You also have to pay for our services. I think 300 dollars for two will be fair. African said dreamily.
It seemed to me that either he was joking or I misheard. I did not answer.
“Well, or at least $ 200.” Сто - мне, сто - моему другу.
Хм, значит, не ослышался. Но услуги по выдаче коррумпированным госслужащим мелким купюр, на мой взгляд, не стоили 100 долларов, не говоря уж об услугах носильщика.
- Это очень много, - сказал я.
- Давай 100 долларов на двоих, - снизил запросы носильщик.
- 100 долларов - это тоже много.
- А сколько же ты хочешь заплатить?
- Максимум 10 долларов.
- Моё последнее слово - 50.
- А моё последнее слово - бери 10 и до свиданья - твёрдо заявил я, даже не поворачиваясь в сторону заднего сиденья.
Похоже, чернокожие исчерпали свой словарный запас. Потому что я неожиданно ощутил у своего горла что-то металлическое. Я скосил глаза вниз и убедился, что это лезвие ножа. Тут мне в голову неожиданно пришла мысль, что жаднич ать нехорошо, ребята трудились как могли, а я лишаю несчастных голодающих африканцев их законного заработка. Я достал кошелёк и протянул им свою самую мелкую, 500-франковую бумажку. Африканцы вышли из машины, а таксист, все это время с интересом наблюдавший за нашей беседой, повёз меня в отель. Проблема была в том, что надо было где-то поменять деньги. После потери 500 франков у меня остались только самые популярные у россиян купюры - 100-долларовики. Я попросил таксиста остановить машину у какого-нибудь банка.
Банк подвернулся скоро. Он был закрыт. В пяти метрах от входа стоял популярный в Африке дорожный знак Тут писать запрещено . Знак этот выглядит следующим образом . красный круг (как на обычных дорожных знаках), внутри него на белом фоне черный кудрявый человечек, от которого тянется параболическая струйка. Безобразник перечеркнут красной полосой.
Подобные знаки встречаются нечасто. В Того и сопредельных государствах они устанавливаются около банков, солидных офисных зданий, дорогих супермаркетов. Все остальные места используются местными жителями как общественный туалет. Только самые стеснительные пользуются для подобных целей пляжами. Обычные же туалеты, в европейском понимании этого слова, встречаются не чаще, чем у нас в тундре.
Около знака - и это тоже западноафриканская традиция - стоял охранник, следивший за тем, чтобы никто не нарушал требования дорожного знака. - Почему банк закрыт? - спросил я.
- Пасха.
- Какая пасха зимой? - обалдел я.
- Я - вудуист, меня не волнуют ваши христианские праздники - пояснил охранник.
- А завтра будет работать?
- Завтра - будет, - пообещал поклонник вуду.
И вдруг резко вставил в рот свисток и куда-то побежал, свистя на ходу. Я проследил за ним взглядом. На небольшом расстоянии от нас какой-то прохожий справлял малую нужду, несмотря на знак. Кроме охранника банка, к нему с другой стороны бежали трое полицейских. Подбежав, они вежливо попросили виновного проследовать в участок, предварительно вылив на него балончик слезоточивого газа и немного побив резиновыми дубинками и ногами, пока лицо и белая рубашка негра не приобрели одинаковый цвет - красный.
Бедняга! - подумал я. - А деньги в отеле придется поменять. Только на курсе, небось, обманут - подумал я. Это решение тоже оказалось ошибочным.
Мимо поста ГАИ зигзагами проносится машина. Естественно, нарушителя тормозят. Машина останавливается, оттуда выходит о-о-очень пьяная дама, облокачивается на свой автомобиль, выплёвывает на дорогу шоколадную кофетку и обращается к гаишнику:
-Ик...представляешь....с ликёром попалась!...
Сидим с приятелем в кабинете. В углу стоит искусственный цветок с красно-зелеными листьями в соломенном горшке, заполненном мхом. Стук в дверь. Заходит молодая блондинка-секретарша и начинает деловито вытряхивать в цветок содержимое заварника.
Мы переглядываемся и приятель спрашивает: "Оля, ты что делаешь?" She says:
"Да вы не беспокойтесь, это растению полезно, это как удобрение." Нас разрывает, но с серьезным видом диалог продолжается. "А ты часто его поливаешь?". "Да нет, раз в неделю. Зимой цветы заливать нельзя." Напряжение нарастает. И тут я говорю.
"Ладно, вечером можешь отломать веточку на развод." ... Утро. Красная Оля и погнутая проволочная ветка.
Отношение к мышам
Мы с моей мамой очень похожи, но отношение к мышам у нас диаметрально противоположное.
С мамой произошел как-то такой случай. Сидела она как-то еще до Горби на посольской даче под Нью-Йорком, и начали на территорию ломиться какие-то демонстранты-экстремисты. Мама стала звонить в полицию. А на даче жила кошка. Страшная, как смерть, но с нежным и ласковым характером. И вот мама объясняется с полицейскими, а тут появляется Фима с полуживой мышкой в зубах и кладет ее у маминых ног.
Подарок, мол. Выдержка советских людей не знает границ - мама продолжает говорить по телефону, медленно покрываясь холодным потом. Фима, видимо, подумала, что мама не умеет кушать мышку в шкурке, и, придушив продукт, стала его разделывать, заботливо подкладывая самые вкусные кусочки маме на колени. В полиции повесили трубку, и тут мама, наконец, закричала. А на линии оставалась телефонистка.
Говорят, в тот раз полицейский наряд, обычно в таких случаях не спешивший, приехал через две минуты.
А со мной все наоборот. Мы с Майком работали по ночам.
Иногда уходили рано - часов в пять утра. Как-то раз заперли уже все двери, и вдруг я вижу - бежит по коридору мышка. Ей деваться было особо некуда, ну, я ее и поймала. Запихнула в карман. Идем к выходу. Майк пошел электричество вырубать, а я стою около вахтера (который нас доставал безумно своими визитами на наш этаж и претензиями к нашей ночной работе).
И вот тут-то мышь у меня из кармана и выпрыгнула. Во мне проснулись соответствующие инстинкты, и с диким криком "Мяу" я бросилась на убегающую мышь. На глазах у вахтера.
Поймала. Мышь у нас несколько дней прожила, потом мы ее выпустили. А вахтер в наш отдел больше никогда не заходил - даже днем. 2 модема
Приходит как-то к нам в фирму, торгующую железом, один весьма амбициозный господин и требует продать ему два модема - внутренний и внешний.
- А зачем вам одному два модема? - спрашиваем. Он поглядел свысока:
- Как это зачем? Внутренний для связи в России, внешний с заграницей.
Пришлось продать оба - очень уж он настаивал. Фамилии
Сегодня на работе от нефига делать решил сидюк с телефонной базой покрутить. Дык такие корки - я часа два этой фигней страдал. Вот, например, выяснил, что в Москве обитают: 4 Сидюка, 2 Писюка, 1 Комп, 1 Проц, 4 Мейлера, 1 Пентюх, целых 8 Виндюковых, 9 Саксов, 1 Хакер (неплохо, а?) и аж 6 человек по фамилии Бизи... А вот просто корочные фамилии:
Слон, Жмотов, Чмырь (аж 13 человек!), Хернес, Пукман, Нарков (причем я там еще Наркевичуса нашел;) и Тормоз...
Еще я хотел бы посмотреть на человека с фамилией Дохлик. А увидев фамилии Нирванов, Металликов и Пантеров я просто со стула упал...

Таможенное пари
Однажды генерал-губернатор Новороссийского края князь Воронцов и его друг помещик Торопов присутствовали при задержании контрабандистов на таможне.
- Дураки, - сказал помещик, - не могут провести незаметно контрабанду. Ведь таможенников очень легко обмануть.
- Вы ошибаетесь, - ответил ему главный таможенный начальник, - мы контрабанду легко найдем, где бы ее ни спрятали.
- Раз вы так уверены, давайте заключим пари.
В разговор вмешался князь Воронцов.
- Я принимаю пари и ставлю сто тысяч рублей. Вам контрабанду незаметно не провезти.
- Завтра в двенадцать часов дня я провезу контрабанду, и вы ее не заметите. В свою очередь, против ваших ста тысяч я ставлю свое имение. Посмотрим, чья возьмет.
- Что же вы повезете? - поинтересовался таможенный начальник.
- Кружева, бриллианты и другие драгоценности. Ровно на десять тысяч рублей.
На следующий день в назначенный час к таможне подъехала коляска, в которой сидел помещик Торопов. Начался обыск.
Помещика увели в отдельную комнату, раздели догола, осмотрели каждую складку его платья и белья, но ничего не нашли. Такому же строгому обыску был подвергнут его кучер.
Отпороли обивку экипажа. Нигде контрабанды не было.
Пошли на крайнюю меру: разрубили экипаж, предварительно уплатив Торопову приличную сумму денег за него. Нигде ничего.
- Ну, что, закончили осмотр?
- Закончили, - уныло подтвердили таможенники.
- Где же ваша контрабанда? Показывайте!
- обратился к помещику князь.
Торопов подозвал к себе белую собачонку, спокойно дремавшую у дерева, и попросил подать ему ножницы. Потом он распорол <шкуру> своего пуделя вдоль спины. Оказалось, что он навертел на простую дворняжку дорогих кружев, между ними расположил бриллианты и другие драгоценности, после чего искусно <упаковал> невольную сообщницу в шкуру пуделя, а лапы, хвост и голову выкрасил в белый цвет.
Пари он, разумеется, выиграл. Carlson
Лет -надцать лет назад в Норильске наблюдал забавную картину. В то время снегоходов было мало, и один изобретатель приспособил на спину движок с пропеллером, типа как у Карлсона, только винты были побольше. Встал на лыжи, включил пропеллер и поехал.
Я видел финальную стадию этого трюка. Кулибин благополучно въехал в дом, руки у него оказались придавленными к стене и выключить двигатель он не мог. Подойти к нему было невозможно из-за пропеллера (как в анекдоте про Карлсона:
<Голубые, от винта! >). Минут через пятнадцать топливо кончилось, и он смог оторваться от стены. Я пищал от восторга! Диалог
Как-то после сложной трудовой недельки меня разбудить пытались, так диалог произошел примерно такой:
- Наташ, вставай!
- Ты цены на флопы и сидюки знаешь?
- Наташ, ты чего?
- Короче, забирай шнур, и уходи.
Зашел мужик в антикварную лавку, вяло посмотрел на прилавок, собрался уже уходить. Вдруг видит: у входа кошечка молочко пьет, а блюдечко [мать не видать!] - Тутанхамон! 7-ой век до нашей эры!
Мужик возвращается к продавцу:
- Извините, я одинокий человек, живу без друзей... Вот ваша кошечка мне так приглянулась... Вы не могли бы мне ее отдать?
- Нет, нет. Ее так мои дети любят.
- Ну, я такой одинокий... Я вам 10 долларов дам...
- Нет, нет, не продается.
Наконец, на 150 долларов сторговались. Мужик уходит, уже в дверях оборачивается:
- Ваша кошечка, наверно, привыкла пить из этого блюдечка, вы не отдадите?
- Нет, нет.
- Я вам 10 долларов за него дам...
- Ну что вы, это же Тутанхамон, 7-ой век до нашей эры... Я так уже 87 кошечек продал..
Заходит в заднюю дверь мужик. Пьяный в дрова, но на ногах держится.
И самое интересное, что руки у него в карманах. Стоит шатается. Потом решает идти вперед. Надо отметить, что трамвай полупустой - заняты только сидячие места (потому как раннее утро). Так вот, мужичок начинает движение вперед по ходу движения трамвая. В этот момент трамвай трогается.
Следуя законам физики и земного тяготения, мозжечок мужичка отдает его телу приказание наклониться вперед, дабы оно (тело) не упало назад. Наклонившись вперед от вертикали градусов на 30, НЕ ВЫНИМАЯ РУК ИЗ КАРМАНОВ, мужичок продолжает движение вперед. Проходит примерно треть вагона, после чего трамвай сразу после ускорения (неслабого) резко тормозит не знаю по какой причине.
Что дальше произошло, многие уже наверное догадались. Ессно, руки в карманах у него запутались Но он не упал лицом об пол, нет Пытаясь сохранить равновесие он начал бежать вперед, причем на скорости, близкой к скорости бешеной антилопы.
Но бежать не вынимая руки из кармана все-таки сложновато, да еще когда спирт в мозгах булькает. В итоге ноги у него заплетаются, он падает на пузо, проезжает на нем остаток вагона и заезжает головой в открытую дверь вагоновожатого, а точнее - вагоновожатой Вынимая руки из карманов, и еще лежа на полу он произносит: "Мадам, я просто ох@ваю от вашего Феррари!"

Новый пункт в анкетах: "Есть ли у вас родственники в Большом театре?"
После того, как солист ленинградского театра оперы и балета Барышников стал невозвращенцем, в буфете театра появились конфеты "Мишка на западе".
- Кто такие Белоусова и Протопопов?
- Конькобеженцы.

Антирадар
Еду, значит, сегодня в машине (с водителем за рулём), и тут антирадар как запищит. Заканчиваем поворот и видим: стоит мент, залез рукой под плащ и копается в районе ширинки.
- Радар поправляет, - говорит водитель.
Следующая остановка
На остановке Платонова в переполненный автобус лез какой-то пенсионер и ему руку зажало дверью:
- Дверь открой, придурок, руку сломаешь!!!
Водитель, не расслышав:
- Следующая остановка гипсовый завод...