My Blog: jokes jokes funny stories
I had a friend at the institute. Kind, but a tree. Lecture on sports medicine. We play in the "Sea battle". Suddenly, the teacher turns around, and:
- Sasha, what is normal pressure in a person?
Sasha gets up silently and looks for a long time. I’m showing my index finger from under my desk (I want to show 120/80 on my fingers). Sasha, having fun:
- What is one?
At this moment, I am showing two on my fingers. Sasha:
- No, two.
Teacher: - What are two?
- Pascal. Like this.
I had one friend - Vasechka. Great lover of a drink and a meal. To drink - vodka, which he always affectionately called a blonde, and a drink in one of the Moscow clubs, most often in the "Hama". Moreover, he always wanted to combine the first with the second, which categorically did not allow the income of the cadet, whom he was. I indicate the direction of activity not in vain, but in order to once again prove that ordinary military people everywhere perform miracles. And so, in order to have fun and save money, Vasya decided to bring vodka to the “Chameleon”, bought in a tent next to the club. In the bottle, of course, it’s impossible to carry it - they’ll take it away and they won’t let it into the club — so he carefully bought a condom in the same tent with vulgar silicone aunts on the box, stuffed it into the pocket of light (!) Jeans and slowly began to pour vodka from the bottle into prezik. It is known that any container is not bottomless. Even a rubber product. And it was necessary to stop already and spit on the remaining 50 grams (well, or drink something then!), But Vasya resolutely overflowed the rest. A condom burst at the entrance to the club ... It was also a sight when a sober and angry, fragrant vodka, in light pants, completely drenched with combustible liquid, Vasya sawed home on the subway.
We went from the university for the exchange for a semester to England. Type of study. Well, I met there in the second month of my stay with a pretty girl. Before that, in my opinion, she had not seen Russian, she represented us according to the Siberia-Vodka-button accordion scheme, and indeed she was very decent and shy. In addition, she was neat, eating only a knife-fork, well, and everything else. Excellent student, their Komsomol member and just a beauty. For a long time, things didn’t go anywhere with her, but after a month and a half of acquaintances that first unforgettable night came. I don’t know why, but my mood that day was so cheerful. I wanted to rejoice and joke. And after the delight of owning my beloved, I simply fell into ecstasy. And I wanted to somehow surprise and make her laugh. Her initial ideas about wild Russians were remembered. Old jokes were spinning furiously in inflamed brains, and the "ingenious" idea came to my mind to wipe my curtain on it. There were no curtains in the dorm room; she had strict, clean and heavy silk curtains. Naked, under her perplexed look, I splashed to the window and pretending to be doing the most ordinary and normal thing, I began to wipe my x # th with these curtains. Then came her crazy cry, which aroused the whole quiet English town.
This cry woke the whole hostel, the police arrived. For a couple of hours I explained to the cops that there was no rape, and she screamed simply with delight. The girl herself did not dare to name the real reason for her cry. Puntsova, she sat on her bed and looked at a horde of policemen scurrying along the corridor of curious students and half-naked me in her room. But everything worked out and the police left, politely saying goodbye and asking them to restrain their emotions in the future.
What can be said in conclusion? A year later, I moved to England, married this girl and now we are growing a son.
I woke up and ...
In my student days, I had a friend named Alex. He was a very versatile person and loved to drink. So, in a state of intoxication, funny stories constantly happened to him, about which he was happy to tell friends.
The stories began with the same thing: "I woke up and ...".
For example, "I woke up and lie on the dining table at home ..." or "I woke up and am sitting in the police UAZ next to the driver ..."
But the most outstanding story looked like this:
- I woke up, and I'm sitting on a bench on October Square, telling Lenochka G. about the benefits of a blowjob ...
I had a friend - a scorcher worked on punching exploratory wells. That is, who knows, the fire method of blasting is a fuse, a cord, etc. Somehow I ask him - Vasya, where he lost his fingers on his hand (there are no three). He hesitated, hesitated, then he said:
- Do neher, catch a chipmunk, insert a fuse with a short cord in the ass and insert it on fire. He runs, runs, and then so cool BANG !!! So alone, when I set it on fire, dodged and clutched his hand in his teeth ...
In a happy youth, I had a friend - a musician who played the guitar in the "team" of a St. Petersburg tavern and madly revered his western idol, the famous guitarist from the band DEEP PURPLE Richie Blackmore. Everyone was a good friend of mine: he played the guitar well, and sang like a nightingale, and drank like all the cabbage cocks. One was his flaw - he was terrible anti-Semite, and honored the Jews for nothing and for any reason. Somehow I go to his house (he tries to play the legendary Blackmore guitar passage from the Nighwau Star thing to the clubs of cigarette smoke) and, for fun, I say:
“Hey,” I say, “and Blackmore is a Jew.”
A cigarette hung on my friend’s lower lip, he quit playing, looked at me dumbfounded, then at the tape recorder, then at the photo of DEEP PURPLE hanging on his wall, sat a little silently and then very thoughtfully, with some narrowed eyes, he said :
- Well, damn it, I felt - something was wrong in his music, something was wrong ...
For a long time I then tried to convince him, said that no Blackmore was Jewish, that I was so pinned, but he only nodded somehow to me. At that time, my friend did not find facts that clearly confirm the Jewish origin of the British guitarist, nor did he find facts that would argue otherwise. However, to the music of DEEP RURRLE and to the subsequent creative career of Ritchie Blackmore, he noticeably cooled, although he himself, as far as I know, is still playing the guitar. And what was he that he heard Jewish about in Blackmore’s guitar game, he never really told me that.
In one airborne unit, planned jumps with paratrooper paratroopers were carried out. As usual - a long drill, briefing, laying domes for do it once. Army, in short. We jumped with D-5 parachutes with stabilization of 3 seconds. This is such a large round white dome, a classic landing (I do not remember exactly, but the area is something about 70 square meters). After separation from the aircraft, a small stabilizing parachute (1.5 sq. M) is forced to open, preventing the parachutist from tumbling, and after three seconds of falling under it, the parachute safety device strikes the satchel, and the stabilizing parachute pulls out the main dome. Everything is quite simple and reliable.
And then one young soldier (let Alekseev Seryoga be) is preparing for the jump. From the briefing, he knows that after opening it is necessary to look up - is everything all right with the dome. Above your head should be white, regular round shape. If everything is fine - do not twitch, prepare for a landing. A hit on landing, the instructor said - like a jump from 1.5 meters. This was worked out several times, jumping from the nightstand. And finally, take off. We went on a combat course, the ensign opens either the door or the ramp (I don’t know what they jumped from), but the point is that during the opening he touched the slightly nearest soldier with this door. The closest was Serge. Well, hooked and hooked - Serge and did not feel almost. But in fact, the door had to be touched exactly on the glass of the safety device (~ 2 cm in diameter), which cracked, broke inside and jammed the arrow of the mechanical timer, set for three seconds!
The signal, "get ready," "go," "go," "go." Seryoga also went. Separated - air flow, stabilization spurt, whistle, carousel of pictures (imagine the feeling of a person jumping for the first time). The timer on the device counts seconds before opening: one, two. And the arrow rests on a piece of glass. The castle does not open, and what happens in the parachute world is called continuous stabilization, that is, the paratrooper whistles down under a small cupola. But it should be noted that this cupola copes with the task of stabilizing the body with dignity, but not so much in terms of slowing down the fall of the body. The speed under it is ~ 35 m / s (but just in free fall ~ 50 m / s).
Serega falls, raises his head ... If you think that he immediately put in place a spare wheel - FUCK THERE. Round over your head? Round. White? White. The correct form?
Correct. And what’s not enough - they warned at the briefing after all: the slings are long, the dome is far from you, it seems smaller than on the ground. In short - the SEREGA HAS PREPARED FOR A GROUND. As it always happens in stories with a good ending - either the snow was soft, or it was summer, but the hillock was caught, or the bushes and trees grew successfully, or it was just that the paratroopers were real then - he imprinted at that speed on the ground: - No x-yourself - a jump from 1.5 meters !!!
Rises and, swearing and limping, drags to the start. And there is a schukher, state of emergency - the man crashed! Serega realizes that his problems are almost no problems, in comparison with this, and together with everyone he goes in search of the body. Searched, of course, for a long time. And, of course, they did not find it. Command in shock - they decided to at least find out who he is - tragically dead. We carried out the construction with verification - everything is in place. Command is simply in a stupor and panic. And here the ensign notes a parachute on Seregin's laying table:
- Alekseev, your mother, completely fucked up - why and when did it fit in without a team ?! One corpse is not enough ?!
Serega is trying to explain that he did not stack anything, that he landed. Of course, they look at him like a moron. And then the ensign noticed the glass on the device and remembered the door on the plane ...
I had a friend in my student years, Sanya. He was a big motorist. And they had a Zhiguli-kopek in their family, an old-aged one, living on the principle of "we are not a checker, we should go." That is, everything that "did not affect speed" was unimportant. And the area in which Sanya lived was somewhat unfriendly to cars (St. Petersburg, Vitebsky Prospect). At night, they smoked everything they could from cars. And in the evenings it was possible to see a mini-caravan from Sani and his dad, who were pulling all kinds of keys, a jack, a spare wheel, etc. from the car into the house. In the morning, accordingly, all this was carried back into the car and it became equipped for the flight. And one morning Sanya comes out of the house and sees that they were trying to CARRY out their self-propelled unit. It looked like this: thieves broke the window in the driver's door and tried, pulling the handle, to open the door.
They did not know, poor fellow, that there was no lock in the door for a long time, and that the door had not been opened on the go, it was blocked by a CROWD.
They pulled, pulled - the door does not open. Seeing such a thing, they climbed on the other side. There, fortunately, the castle still remained. We got in. They began to start the car. But where can they get it when Sanya himself cannot always get it ... They broke off. They began to push the car, since such things. We must at least somehow hijack, just come from. But after about fifty meters, the WHEEL fell off her. Then the thieves could not stand it. Spit, you see, in the hearts, and left.
Anecdote about the government
I was here a few days ago with a friend and told an old, but funny joke. Everyone laughed, and especially his girlfriend, and they forgot. Four days later, he again came to this comrade, and there were still people there. His girlfriend and says:
- And what kind of joke did you tell such a funny one, like something about the government?
Well, do you remember all the jokes that he told somewhere ?! Yes, and about the government ?! In short, they hushed up, and after another 15 minutes I decided to tell a joke. Remember, “the girl sits in the sandbox, one eye has leaked out, the other is hanging out, her mouth is torn and says,“ she didn’t sneeze herself. ”And so, everyone is laughing and my friend’s girlfriend says:
- There he is! the joke that you told!
Silent scene ...
Labor protection of MGSU (former IISS), CAD specialty, 5th year, people write diplomas ... It has been preserved from the old days that every diploma project should include a section “Labor protection” And now, people receive appropriate labor protection at the department assignments seem to be on the topic of the diploma ... A student long and dreary explains to the teacher that the calculations of fire resistance of structures, lightning protection, safety of installation of structures, illumination of the construction site, etc. are not suitable for her on the topic of the diploma ... A piece of dialogue:
“Well, what are you telling me!” What is your diploma theme?
- I have - creating a graphic library for ...
- Well, here, and you say that you do not need labor protection ...
Here you are and count the illumination in this very library!
Read the instructions!
93 years old, Moscow, bar, people with the habits of new Russian brothers. Sitting means one pretzel at the bar and asks the bartender, like they are serving tequila boom? He says that there are no problems, in general, the brother says that he only consumes it. Then there’s an oil painting, everything is according to the rules, the bartender puts a pinch of salt on his hand, serves a lemon (well, I think people know that lick, drink, bite), a stopar waggles on the counter and hands it to a pretzel. Then the picture is no longer in oil, but in sausage. The eagle lands a stoparica, bites with a lemon, and "sniffs" the salt with a professional cocainist gesture. To say that all the visitors to the bar were formed in half is to say nothing.
So, read the instructions.
As you know, during the Great Patriotic War we had many good generals. One of such worthy generals was Chuikov, who commanded the defense of Stalingrad.
Despite his abilities as a strategist, he is even among colleagues
(!!!) He was known as a man rude and unrestrained. Screaming at a subordinate general and giving him a muzzle was commonplace. So after the war, as you know, Zhukov fell out of favor and was promoted to commander of the Urals Military District; Chuikov, on the contrary, went uphill. Is it necessary to explain that the relationship between them was, frankly, not very good?
This is a prelude. The fairy tale itself, or rather, the reality, is such. Chuikov had a daughter, Nelly. A kind of "pirlaugirl", in the sense that the representative of the then "golden youth". And the designated child decided not to go somewhere, but to EastFak Moscow State University.
Moreover, as expected, received a "2" in history. And the next day - such a picture. The same teachers go to take exams at another faculty. And they come out of the subway, and there is a cordon, and all of them are captains. Passed the aisle - another of the majors. They approach the building - the cordon from the colonels already. In the building itself are all generals. Teachers are invited to the office, there is the dean, Chuykov and his offspring, modestly awaiting a showdown.
The professors, respectively, are asked, they say, what is it, the child of the Hero of the Soviet Union comes, and on you? .. To which the professor answers:
“Do you know what we asked her?”
- Who commanded the defense of Stalingrad.
“And what did she answer you?”
“And you ask her.”
Chuikov turns to the child and asks:
To which the child, having looked down, answered:
History has preserved for posterity a wild cry of a general insulted in the best feelings:
- TO THE COUNTRY !!! WASH FLOORS !!! AND BECAUSE I DO NOT SEE YOU HERE MORE !!
Pheasants learn to fly
I have a friend in one state hunting farm. Every game is bred there: a la deer, wild boars, etc. nonsense. So, this state hunting farm decided to breed pheasants. But what about the "royal hunting" .... A high-set boss will come to hunt with a can-thread ... and here you shoot pheasants. We bought pheasants. They bred, as expected. Only then bad luck came out. From abundant feeding (and we can still from any of the charms of life) pheasants plundered and completely refused to fly. A senior came to hunt, dogs, guns. all things, and pheasants running through the bushes, and persuade figs to fly. Embarrassment. A friend shares her problem with a colleague from another hunting farm. He says that somewhere in the Yugoslav hunting farm there was a similar problem. Well, he gave a solution to the problem. One of the local "Kulibins" came up with a cunning such device as a catapult. They made them, arranged them in bushes.
Further, like clockwork. Dogs drive pheasants. They run through the bushes ... and then ... Klats! The catapult is triggering ... The pheasant is in the sky and there is nothing left for him but to flap wings until they shoot him. When a friend of mine told me all this ... the first reaction was: - And you would have used pheasants and given a gun to his paws, so that he shot himself ...
Mink and the pet store Nabul yesterday is an original phenomenon, I decided to share it.
I’m leaving this house, I see a yard cat, known by the nickname Mink, clinging to the door handle of the pet store on the ground floor (this is my comfortable house). He decided to help the man, opened the door, Minka walked in with a businesslike look and headed straight for the saleswoman, expressively wrinkling; was served immediately by a portion of viskas. I was interested in the sight, and already a while ago I noticed a flea collar coming from Minka’s neck, although he didn’t lose the look and habits of the fighting yard cat.
The saleswoman issued the following description of the situation.
About six months ago, Minka, then still unknown to the staff, showed up at the store using the same method for about seven, before closing, sat down on the counter with food and screamed until it was given. Since then (the first time) a daily (!) Tradition has been carried out. The saleswomen agreed with the management, Minke was allocated a share in feed with an expiring shelf life (usually transferred to cat shelters).
A month ago, Minka arrived at about noon, that is, at the improper time, climbed onto the hygiene counter, brushing a stack of shampoos from him and other things, sat down on the window with flea collars and began to scratch expressively.
Departed saleswomen found an opportunity to give a man a collar. Minka reacted favorably to the present and left about his business, already in a collar (although usually he doesn’t make physical contact).
A couple of days ago, the incident repeated. In the instructions for this collar there is really an indication that, although the validity period is from two to three months, in conditions close to combat, it is recommended to change the collar monthly.
And after all have changed ...
Note from the dog I recently went out into the kitchen - looking for something to feed the dog with.
I look - there is nothing, but usually they leave something.
It’s strange. And at that moment a dog comes into the kitchen with a piece of paper in his teeth. I take a piece of paper and consider. On a piece of paper it says:
"The dog has already eaten."
Rent a car or you won’t spend ...
It was in the Emirates a couple of years ago.
We arrived there with the company on vacation and, after a couple of days in the heat, decided: we need to rent a car. Well, it’s necessary, it’s necessary. There are 6 of us, including 2 children, so the choice fell on a minivan. The search was short-lived and, having stumbled upon a Chevy-lumina, I decided not to be smart and take it (all the more so, I had such an ashtray and I was very pleased with it.)
An Arab arrived, brought a contract and a car. A little bargaining, agreed on $ 60 a day (although he had previously asked for 80). The Arab, in the guise of our fuss, joyfully and clumsily added something to the "special conditions" and went to show us the car. During the inspection, the Arab showed me a slightly cracked turn signal and said that they say that the old defect, not yours, do not worry ...
What a decent uncle, I thought, and settled even more towards him. Seeing my slack, the Arab immediately delighted us that we would need another 200 dollars of bail, they say you are lovers of fast driving for insurance and violations ... and we have a fierce traffic police, etc. And if nothing happens, then get the full ...
Well, you have to do it this way, all the more so there was no need to violate it, much less abroad. Although suspicious. On that and dispersed. We rode for a short time, without adventure, a couple of days in total. And so neatly that even from local, very polite drivers, they received a beep in the ass. Parking has always been paid ahead and for a long time. They left the car only where it was possible, even if far then to go. Bluly, in short. And so it began ...
We leave the museum all together, look forward to a trip to the restaurant and see that our “NECK” is standing sideways, tilting its head low and quietly hissing with its front right wheel.
I, like today's driver, roll up my sleeves, climb for a tool and a spare wheel, put everything apart. Everything is usually a trifling matter ... BUT then I find on the wheel what?
- RIGHT!!! - SECRET !!!
Freaks !!!! And this is where there are 140 taxis of merino bodies, and all kinds of CAMRI there are like Cossacks, and the cars don’t close at all (I saw it myself) WHAT DO YOU NEED FOR THE BALD RUBBER FROM THE MINIVAN !!!!!!!
WHO ?????????????? !!!!!!!!!!!
We rummaged through the whole car, but did not find the secret key! They called the rental office - there is nobody there, probably already late. They called the Arab on his cell phone - silent. They called the travel agency - they received oath promises of help and all that. Okay, I collected all my belongings and, until the wheel was completely blown away, limped to the gas station. There, some captured Indian tanker, at my request, pumped as much as 3.5 atm. and said in the language of the deaf-mute that the tire service is very close and we can get there in 5 minutes easily.
If you can read their street names and even at night and on the go, and even under the constant twitching of two hungry children and female bores. But luck didn’t let us down - found! HURRAH!!!
Quick, fast, guys! A pair of Indians promised for $ 3 to wave the wheel.
I went to wash my hands, I come - both are standing, stupidly looking at the wheel, mechanics, their mother! Apparently the elder says:
- Here you have a secret castle. Give me the key, please.
- Ha! I would begin to look for you here if I had it!
- Then we won’t be able to help you, it’s impossible to break !!!
Wives come closer, seeing that something is not right and the wheel does not change:
Interfere with the dialogue:
- Children! We are hungry! Help as you can.
Hindus are dead.
- CAN'T AND ALL HERE!
And then they suddenly remembered something about the unions and the end of the working day.
I start to boil and switch to Russian
- Dick, you’ll go where until you change the wheel !!!
“This is impossible, sir!” There is no key!
- Ah, you can’t! We ourselves can! Okay, give a hammer and a pipe piece!
- What do you need?
- Hammer, your mother !!! And what else do you have there - I climbed into their bins.
Seeing my perseverance, the Indians parted.
I found a piece of pipe of suitable diameter, made it a "secret key" - flattened on the nut. For a couple of strokes, he put it on a nut, twisted it from the heart - and after a minute solemnly handed the wheel to the dead Indians:
- Latai, your mother - and then eat the hunt!
MIN NO )))
Women who are ready to gnaw low-calorie crackers around the clock for the sake of the apotheosis of the diet - the weight of the body is equal to its temperature - people in white coats strongly recommend cheering the body substance weary of starvation with an oral orgy ...
And the fact is not that one serving of male sperm contains only 5-8 kilocalories. It turns out that high-quality and impeccably performed fellatio is one of the natural, optimal and most effective ways to relieve psychological fatigue and nervous stress among the representatives of the fair half of humanity.
Needless to say that a rampant starving woman around the clock is on the verge of a nervous breakdown ?! It is infuriated by frankly harmless details, malomalsky trifles and sheer trifles. And all because a man in the name of his impeccable figure does not get a good piece of well-roasted pork ...
Sometimes in those special cases when the “weather in the house” reaches the mark of a storm point, and the precious spouse annoys her very much, already tormented by starvation nerves, the girl wants to throw passion into the offender with something bulky and very heavy. For example, a freshly baked apple pie, to which she, being on a diet, alas, will not touch. However, if you do not bake as well as your husband would like, a direct hit of this culinary product on the target can kill right on the spot. Remember: not only is human blood not vodka, but it’s also much harder to clean the carpet from it ... For this reason alone, it’s probably worth listening to the advice of good aibolites that stress is best removed not by assault, but by the oral sexual exercises.
Doctors explain such an unexpected effect from the boring blowjob procedure with activity in the oral cavity, which also, like sucking lollipops, calms the nervous system and relieves irritability. Remember the delightful faces of babies with a pacifier in their mouth: they shouted foolishly 3 minutes ago, but as soon as the mum shoved a foreign object into their mouth that was easily sucked, the child calmed down.
In the very procedure of sucking, psychoanalysts see the subconscious return of a person to serene infancy, when breastfeeding was not only a source of satisfying hunger, but also satisfied the baby's need for tactile contact with his mother - the protector and nurse. After all, when mom is nearby, you can not worry in vain - she will not let you offend ...
In order to finally convince the masses of the need to include blowjob in the diet of daily sexual games, doctors draw our attention to the fact that quite frequent oral sex classes can help get rid of such bad habits as smoking, nail biting and even manic picking in the teeth. “In this case, oral sex, as one of the types of oral activity, replaces another, less useful and more boring one,” the doctors say.
"Suck on your health - and don't be nervous!" - people in white coats give free recommendations to girls. Perhaps this is one of the few drugs, the use of which, in addition to benefits, also brings pleasure ...
A friend comes to me yesterday and tells a new joke from his life about the ensigns (he works at the institute and now sits in the selection committee). So, the ensign comes to him with his son (a spilled little ensign) to submit documents for admission. They were given forms, explained how to fill out and left unattended. After half an hour, it turns out that how to fill it did not reach them! Then they are poked face into the sample and explained why this sheet is hanging here. It seems to reach them and they begin filling out the form.
An hour later, when the entire admissions committee slowly begins to giggle, the ensigns bring the completed form and leave. Then comes the fun part! The whole admissions committee, having seen the completed form, begins to slowly slide off the chairs, not paying attention to applicants, and the thing is as follows.
As exemplary warrant officers, these guys filled out the form, and they managed to fill out their data correctly, after which they DECIDED THE SHEET and wrote “SAMPLE” below !!!
I work for a candy company, well, in the sense, the company is engaged in the sale of Moscow sweets. November-December we have the most season. We sell various gifts. Here you and teddy bears and dogs and pyramids and Christmas trees, in short there is something to choose from.
People once decided that candy gifts are an integral attribute of the New Year. (Well, who doesn’t remember: Santa Claus, adjusting the sliding beard, takes a bag from the bag, and it’s ... candy !!!) And the "supplies" of Santa Claus are the parent committees of all kindergartens and schools. They are bought from us. So, the vast majority of mothers walks along shop windows for a long time, choosing gifts. There are heated discussions:
- For girls we will buy gifts in the form of carriages, and for boys in the form of locomotives ...
- Well no! Look, we’ll buy motorcycles for the boys, and for the girls of these nice little cubs ...
Well, and in the same vein. As a result, mothers buy N-th number of motorcycles and a certain number of carriages (boys and girls). And today, three such parent-committee moms, after a half-hour discussion, come up to me to place an order: - For us, please, 11 steam locomotives, 14 carriages and 8 pyramids ...
Knock out, repeating (so as not to distort the order):
- So, there are 11 steam locomotives for boys, 14 carriages and 8 pyramids for girls ... WHOM ARE THE PYRAMIDS? I’m in a stupor, mothers and everyone around under the table.
It sounds like a joke, but one of my acquaintances successfully walked on the subway as follows: giving his physiognomy an extremely preoccupied and divorced form of worldliness, he approached the control booth and casually threw a cult phrase there:
- I'm discriminant!
And with the same expression on his face, he calmly continued on his journey in the subway past the frenzied granny.
For all the time while he practiced this method, I do not remember a single case that the controller had something against ...
Egg ... e
You just do not laugh very strongly, YESTERDAY YOUR HUSBAND FINALLY CONSIDERED THE CRYSTAL CRYSTAL TO BUY, WALKING (HALF A YEAR OF THE YEAR). WE WENT TO THE STORE, TAKE A CHANDELIER AND ON THE WINGS OF JOY OF HOME, ON THE ROAD, GRABED THE BRANDY (WASH THIS CASE). Sat down at the table, cut it in 50, then repeated, well, all the time, all the time. Either from cognac, or from my part I agreed. DELIVERED A CHAIR, ON HIS TABOO, I HAVE PREPARED MY ON THE TABLET, AND ME MAKED ME TO HOLD IT.
I STAND HAPPYLY, I HAVE WATCHING MY EAGLE BEHIND THE CEILING SHOULDER, (AND HE SOMETIMES HAVE BEEN IN FAMILY WORKERS) I TRANSLATE A LOOK BELOW, AND WHICH I SEE - FROM THESE SIMPATIC LIFE IS SOME LITTLE. MY "PRIDE EAGLE" HOW TO FLY WITH THIS FLOAT, TOGETHER WITH A CHANDELIER, WHICH BREAKED SUSPENDEDLY, DOES AND WITH A RESIDUAL CHANDELIER TIPS ME. THOUGHT THOUGHT TO KILL, AND HE SAYS: -B .. HOW CURRENT PI # D # ZERO, REACHED EGGS, GOOD NOT TO DEATH!
Yesterday I went to the dentist with my son Yegor (7 years old) to check if everything was in order. Egor courageously, with a stern look on his face, enters the CAM (for the first time in his life) into the office, (even, the promise to buy a new disc with a toy affects) he also courageously sits in the chair and opens his mouth.
- Mom! Yegorushka, why didn’t you also go to the dentist voluntarily?
What a child with sooo very serious muzzle gives:
- Because you, dentists, with your dental work, cause me some mental suffering. And after your useless manipulations, I like a bee in my mouth visited.
For about 5 minutes the dentist couldn’t work.
Once we drive along a suburban highway, we pass a village ... Suddenly on the road there is a hill through the entire highway, after a few meters - another one, no stripes on them, just hillocks. I ask my husband:
- Is that speed bumps, or what?
- Why not painted?
- They are in civilian clothes ...
The man had a car siren with independent power.
Somewhere he and his friends got drunk. Itself could not go any more, the friends took the car to put in a garage, and put the owner in a back seat. We arrived at the garages. The car was drowned and the garage began to open. They opened the garage, but didn’t get the car again - there’s a secret there. Snorted-snorted until the alarm went off and the siren howled. The owner woke up in the back seat, opened the door and ran away with a fright.
Night. Cooperative garages. The siren yells, one garage is open, someone else's car. There is no master. The friends were afraid that the cops would come — they would break it while they explained to them what was what. And they began to turn off the siren. The hood was opened, and the wires were torn from it - so she still yells, mean-spirited!
“And how did it end?” - I ask them. And they are so embarrassed:
- We broke it off from the car and buried it. She shouted from under the ground, but already quietly. And then the owner came back.