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Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:44:39
Анон у которого есть тян, расскажи как ты с ней проводишь свободное время? Кроме ебли чем еще занимаетесь, о чём разговариваете? И ответьте, у вас тян как друг или нет?


Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:46:29
>>52610168
Гуляем по лесу, ходим в кино, кафе и театр. Разговариваем, разумеется. Не знаю насчет друга, это сложнее все гораздо. Другу веришь больше.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:47:03
>>52610168
Да, как друг. Всё друг другу доверяем, траллим друг друга и капчум мизулич

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:47:33
>>52610168
>И ответьте, у вас тян как друг или нет?
ТЫ МНЕ ДРУГ
И Я ТЕБЕ ДРУГ
МЫ ДРУГ ДРУГА
ДРУГ-ДРУГ-ДРУГ

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:48:24
>>52610168
Вечерами обычно играем в вов. Я бы предпочёл гулять, так ведь хрен её из дома вытащишь, твинки сами себя не оденут. Болтаем, готовим иногда вместе - вот и всё, наверное. Ну, на выходных встречаемся с моими друзьями, ездим в гости к родителям или сидим как сычи и играем в сраный вов.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:48:59
тян, встречаемся почти 2 года.
1st - мы учились, сейчас работаем. В будни видим друг друга по вечерам, ничего интересного. Максимум бытовуха если вместе, или просто гуляем - если ночуем раздельно.

Выходные - поездки куда угодно, просто гуляем и решаем рутину. С моих слов выходит один тухляк, впрочем так и есть - в последнее время из-за недостатка времени мы решили перенести отношения в формат фрилав, чтобы не батхерить лишний раз.

Вообще основной тезис такой - в постели. Мы проводим время в постели. Но так - природа, дача, фестивали.

А сейчас я ищу хикки-алоун туры, так как у нас не совпадают отпуска. Хуита. А мне всего 22.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:49:16
>>52610168
>у вас тян как друг или нет?
Ты заставил меня печалить
К сожалению этот пункт не сходится.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:49:40
>>52610296
Совсем забыл: не представляю, нахуя нужна тян, с которой вы при этом не друзья. Вообще я всегда так и представлял себе идеальные отношения: дружба + ебля.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:50:00
>>52610225
>Другу веришь больше.
Хм, почему так? Обычно же люди своим партнерам доверяют больше чем друзьям. Всё же больше времени проводят с партнерами чем с друзьями.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:50:49
>>52610168
чё Оп? сам никогда не узнаешь так хоть на дворике спросишь?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:51:47
>>52610168
Моя тян мне как друг. Это лучший вариант, вместе охуенно, при этом еще можно ебаться

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:52:56
>>52610327
А как у тебя?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:52:57
>>52610337
Двачую, тоже всегда считал что тян должна быть неким бро в юбке которого и выехать можно.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:53:07
Хм, ну ок. Живём вместе 2 года, из них встречаемся 3. Завели двух домашних ёжиков :3, вместе катаемся на сноубордах, путешествуем, часто играем в хвох и денди. Вчера ходили в лес, покормили комаров и принесли 2 корзины грибов. По поводу общения - да, скорее всего, я могу назвать её своим другом, у нас очень схожие интересы начиная от музыки, заканчивая кинематографом. Такие дела.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:54:34
>>52610337
Ницше, залогинтесь.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:55:13
>>52610530
Ого, а Ницше тоже думал что тян должна быть такой?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:55:39
ТЯН = ЕБЛЯ + ДРУЖБА

Школьники, такие школьники.

фейспалм.жопоёг

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:55:48
>>52610530
Да тут все такие. Прогрессивная молодежь, блять. Такое чувство, что я один свою тян воспитываю. Остальные с ней в иксбокс играют и на сноуборде катаются. Ну какая может быть с бабой дружба?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:56:10
>>52610554
Нет. Ницще думал, что ьян нужна только для секса. И других наслаждений. Не слушай его

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:57:26
>>52610571
Докажи что не так, взрослый ты наш.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:57:42
>>52610554
Никак нет. Нише вообще не считал тней за людей, по крайней в Сверхчелвоеке точно, да и в Так сказал Заратустра тоже.
А былинный сверхчеовек по Нише вообще смотрел на всех как на прах и пепел, ну а тней вообще не замечал.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:57:42
>>52610473
Дома всё няшно ми-ми-ми поцелуйчики, обнимашечки, киношечка...ля ля ля жизнь беззаботна
Но я не могу её познакомить со своими друзьями, я не могу с ней постоянно гулять пешком, ибо велосипедист до мозга костей.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:58:12
В свободное время ебемся, ибо в детстве не наебались. Иногда бухаем, а потом ходим гулять по безлюдной местности. Иногда у нас бывает плохое настроение и мы просто целый вечер молчим по разным комнатам. Но потом все же ебемся. Только молча и грустно. Учим вместе английский. По выходным обязательно выбираемся в кино и на набережную. Любим посидеть на лавке, посмотреть на море и пожрать пян-се. Иногда пьем пиво в баре, а потом подвыпившие ходит в музее любоваться искусством. Под градусом оно лучше воспринимается, ибо большинство художников алкаши. Логику, я думаю, вы поняли. Играем в PS3, хотя до сих пор не могу вразумить как нам это удается, ведь там нет игр. Друзей разумеется нет, поэтому мы сблизились шо пиздец. Тащемта, получается, что она друг, которого можно трахать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:58:38
>>52610577
Ты какой-то поехавший, зачем мне её ВОСПИТЫВАТЬ? И как?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:58:43
>>52610480
> в хвох
Поссал на говноеда.
пс3БОГ предзаказ ящик один, жду предзаказ на пысы4

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:58:46
Хватит, суки! Идите нахуй со своими тянами! Я не могу это видеть.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 16:59:32
Оп, меня тянет блевать от тебя. хуёво да, без тян? Охотой узнать каково это?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:00:14
>>52610577
Животные не нужны. Парой стоит жить с человеком таких тян оче мало.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:00:16
>>52610426
Вот интересно, есть такие тян, которые стремятся своему партнеру рассказать обо всем, что у нее в жизни было - как ебалась, налево или на право, с кем встречалась, кого любила и.т.д. Сам встречал такой "феномен" пару раз всего, и так и не пойму мотивы таких "раскрытых" тней. Может кто объяснит?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:00:25
Я бы хотел просто ебаться. А вот друг у меня и так есть.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:01:00
>>52610693
А мне и с тян хуево, и без тян.
Мимокрок

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:01:03
>>52610648
Самое охуенно из треда.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:01:12
>>52610648
ДС2?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:01:47
>>52610727
Еби друга.

Очевидно же!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:02:08
>>52610727
Этот прав.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:02:47
>>52610693
Ну да, охото узнать каково это, и что?
Еще вопрос: надоедали ли вам отношения с тян? Или то что живете вместе?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:02:58
>>52610669
Вся суть сониблядей, лол

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:03:08
>>52610168
Оп, так в чем твоя проблема? Заведи тню и узнай.
Тут, блять, антипиратский закон вступил в силу, а спермотоксикозники продолжают гнуть свою линию.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:03:16
>>52610758
Ноуп.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:03:42
>>52610168
Тян не нужны. САЖА@СКРЫЛ.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:03:47
>>52610672
джва чаю

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:03:54
>>52610168
И какого ответа ты ждешь? Да обо всем разговариваем и все делаем, епт. 19 лвл, в отношениях 4 года, оба учимся и работаем, разговор сам перетекает из темы в тему, думать не надо, о чем поговорить. Строим планы на будущее, едем в августе в Париж, в след. году планируем в Тайланд. Раньше очень много гуляли, сейчас появилась машина, поэтому гуляем пореже. Кино/кафе/походы в гости к друзьям. Смотрим достопримечательности страны(беларусь-кун), в субботу едем в Мирский замок.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:04:06

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:04:21
>>52610723
У меня такая была. К тому же истерила постоянно, а это заебывает по самое нехочу.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:05:02
>>52610820
Надоедали, разумеется. А ты как хотел?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:05:01
>>52610863
Через неделю, собственно. Забыл, что уже первое.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:05:17
>>52610168
на бокс вместе ходим.
Там и встретились.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:05:39
>>52610909
Быдло в треде, все в падик.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:05:52
>>52610648
Как найти такую тян? Я всю жизнь мечтал о таком.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:06:19
Одни какие-то сноубордисты-путешественники успешноблядки. Я просто охуеваю.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:06:20
>>52610795
>Вангую студента или школьника, не жившего с женщиной дольше пары месяцев.
Хуёвая из тебя Ванга, вместе 3 года, из них полтора живём вместе, ни разу её не ВОСПИТЫВАЛ. А ты, кстати, так и не ответил на мой вопрос, взрослый ты наш.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:06:23
Я думаю у меня ситуация похожа к анегдотической, про то что муж постоянно скрывает доходы от жены, бухает и скрывает. Коммандировок и любовниц у меня нет, остальное анекдот.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:06:27
>>52610879
Вот одна была истеричка. Второй случай - это невероятная серая мышь! И все туда же.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:07:29
>>52610835
Стой, я не запустил ниодного нытмковского посто в треде, типа я загрустил или сэд фрог. Я просто захотел узнать конкретную вещь и всё. А на 100% халяву не закроют.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:07:41
>>52610953
Тебе сколько лет?
Отвечаю: на корню пресекать попытки пилить и прогибать тебя под свою волю. Заставлять стирать шмот, гладить его, и еду готовить. Дальше продолжать?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:07:47
>>52610571
>ТЯН = ЕБЛЯ + ДРУЖБА
но ведь так и есть.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:07:55
>>52610951
Всегда отписываю в таких тредах, ибо присутствует какое-то желание похвастаться, чтоли. Что я такой счастливый. И доказать, что не одни неудачники сидят на бордах. И я говорю не только об отношениях, но и о прочих аспектах жизни.

inb4:Тян ни нужны.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:08:05
>>52610723
Просто болтливая и истеричная пизда, которая "по секрету всему свету" о себе всё расскажет, не бери в голову.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:08:40
>>52610820
Иногда хочется одиночества, чтобы телефон не пиликал и ни кто не беспокоил. Но когда мы в ссоре и неделю не видимся начинаю скучать по ней, а потом опять, будни и желание уехать в закат возвращается.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:08:43
Расскажите лучше как ебетесь. Можете ли просто подойти и напихать ей за щеку? Или стянуть трусы и вылизать ей анус?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:01
>>52610951
Харкач - борда успешных людей, здесь одни альфы и миллионеры.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:04
Аноны, а тян с какой внешностью вы хотели, и какую получили?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:13
А я со своей тян бухаю. И слушаю охуительные истории о том, как прошёл её день. Дурачимся. И снова бухаем.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:17
>>52610927
у тебя штампованое представление о боксе

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:28
>>52611014
Хвастать на <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(127, 252, 218); color: rgb(126, 4, 76);">мизулин</span>ах.жопеже

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:29
>>52610951
ага, <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(90, 92, 215); color: rgb(152, 46, 15);">мизулин</span> - доска для успешных людей знаю что умер

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:09:53
>>52610648
Запили историю о том, как вы познакомились.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:10:12
>>52611038
Зависит от настроения, на самом деле. Ей очень нравится, когда я к ней пристаю. Даже на улице могу просто взять ее за попу и помять, допустим. Она делает вид, что смущается и вокруг люди, но ей нравится. Ну и все в таком духе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:10:27
>>52611060
Тогда ответь, у вас там что, кружок интеллектуалов? На боксе-то.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:10:38
>>52611038
Именно так, практически в любой момент могу пристать с сексом исключая те случаи когда она действительно занята или торопится. Даже во время месячных, стоит довести её до определённой степени возбуждения и она не может отказать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:11:13
>>52610648
Как она выглядит?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:11:44
>>52611095
Дружище, а ты посмотри какая грация в ударе боксёра! Сколько мощи! Это же восхитительно!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:11:56
>>52611002
Бред какой. Моя мне и так с самого начала готовила, стирала и убирала. 5 лет вместе, ни разу не приходилось [воспитыватьk. Хотя вообще-то тян у меня в первую очередь друг, мы очень близки.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:12:07
>>52611052
Не поверишь анон, мечтал о симпотичной тян, небольшего роста, с милым личиком и фигурой что надо. Получил то, о чем мечтал

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:12:33
Так-то да. Я сам насеменить такими историями. Ну вам в пизду. Уже год не могу нормально сидеть тут. Успешноблядков не виню, но я не за этим сюда прихожу.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:12:48
>>52611002
25
Когда прихожу домой, меня встречает тянка с вкусным ужином. Ну, иногда в кафе можно зайти для разнообразия или в магазин вместе заехать.
Ни разу не приходилось ЗАСТАВЛЯТЬ гладить, стирать или убирать, её так воспитали, что она считает это женской обязанностью и делает сама.
Не помню, чтобы она хоть раз меня пилила, серьёзно, скорее наоборот, расстраивается из-за любого пустяка. Меня, в принципе, напрягает только её домоседство и нежелание хоть как-то выбираться на улицу и ходить хоть куда-нибудь.
Ну, продолжай, мне интересно как оно там, чтобы было ВСЁ КАК У ЛЮДЕЙ.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:13:19
>>52611129
Я говорил про интеллектуальное развитие, а не эстетическую составляющую мордобоя.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:13:29
тян охуенный друг, в свободное время кроме поебушек <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(151, 156, 15); color: rgb(34, 76, 71);">мизулин</span>уем капчу, играем в игори, смотрим сериалы/фильмы, курим бошки, пьем, готовим.. бля, да дохуя чего делаем. да, живем вместе. лампа пиздец

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:13:51
>>52611129
Двачую, пять лет боксом занимался. Бросил из-за того что лицо портить не хотел.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:14:07
>>52611038
Беру на руки\закидываю на плечо и несу в койку. Там уже никуда не денется.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:14:20
>>52610168
Я с тней гуляю, няшусь, смотрю кино, музицирую иногда, читаем друг другу, я ей пасты с двaча рассказываю, делимся историями, угараем над разной хуйней, иногда вместе душ принимаем, встречаемся с ней 1-3 раза в неделю из-за работы. А, еще смотм аниму, ютуб и Время приключений. Оба 21 лвл, секс очень редко, примерно 2-3 раза в месяц в лучшем случае, ибо негде. У меня родители все время дома, у нее брат или мама.
Постить ее фото не буду, чтобы вы на нее не дрочили, разумеется.
Вместо этого ноги из вчерашнего треда.

Сам не понимаю как мне повезло с няшей-стесняшей кун

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:14:37
>>52611144
Двачую этого. Сам не альфач, но она очень красива и умна. Недавно разговаривали на подобную тему, она сказала, что в отношениях смотришь на красоту только первый месяц, потом решают только личные качества. Лицо у меня красивое, но шесть лет назад посидел целое лето безвылазно за компом и заработал себе синяки под глазами, так и не проходят. В поликлинике сказали, что со здоровьем все ок. Если бы не они, был бы еще более уверен в себе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:01
>>52611163
Двачую, заехали успешнокуны.
оп

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:12
>>52611205
Лицо - это ладно, главное голова, а точнее то, что внутри.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:23
>>52611144
Погоди, ты что, ебёшься с моей тян?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:26
>>52610168
>няшей-стесняшей
Фу блять

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:44
Аноны, как вы решаете батхерт недостатка времени в будни из-за работ обоих (ну и параллельно из-за транспорта)? у нас буквально нет времени из-за этого
В чьей квартире живет тян, в твоей или съемной? у меня - своя
Кто готовит лучше? я - бог готовки и совершенно обламываюсь, когда тян проебывает мелочи и готовит не так хорошо как я - это существенный недостаток лол
Как вы оцениваете свою тян по сравнению с другими? на пике - моя
Как вы решаете проблему, когда тян говорит " я не хочу секса, давай не сегодня, я устала бла бла бла"?

С одной стороны - она ведь близкий человек, устает и тд
С другой - ну охуеть, устала она а как хуи пинать за ноутом силы есть

У меня серьезные дилемы насчет будущего - я хочу жить один, но как только решаю все проблемы - мне нужна компания... которая становится проблемой, от которой надо вновь избавится и так по кругу.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:15:55
>>52611252
Не всем же быть озлобленными неудачниками.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:16:03
>>52611163
Двачую.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:16:40
>>52610168
Тян как друг.
Смотрим аниму, кинцо, играем, она смотрит, как я играю, иногда я ее чему-нибудь учу (учимся вместе на программистов, я больше знаю)

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:06
>>52611283
Тян никогда не отказывает в сексе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:21
>>52611315
гуляем еще по паркам всяким, говорим о разных разностях

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:22
>>52610475

тоже думал так раньше, но это все хуйня, тян которая может быть охуенным другом куну это блять брильянт лежащий на дне моря говна, она достается одному из тысяч кунов. забудте об этом и принимайте тян какие они естьь

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:31
>>52610168
>Анон у которого есть тян

Дискриминация, блять! А что рассказывать тем, у кого нет тян?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:36
>>52611222
Ебется на стороне, инфа 146%

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:44
>>52611267
Она почти хикка, врядли. Она ебашит на электро. Я охуеваю, почему мне так повезло.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:50
>>52611283
Живем каждый с родителями, ибо еще 19 лвл же. Можем позволить себе снимать квартиру, но решили, что пока будем жить ни в чем себе не отказывая и два раза в год куда-нибудь ездить, так и получается. Пока все устраивает.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:17:51
>>52611222
Я не фетишист, но ногти красиво и ухоженно выглядят.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:18:13
>>52611222
Готовь колясочку для ребенка, только не забудь его а борьбу в 7 лет отдать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:18:51
>>52611260
Это да, но ходить с переломным носом не камильфо. Мне за пять лет один раз ломали.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:18:51
>>52611095
Ты удивишся, но да. В основном мужики от 35. У некоторых дети раньше меня высшее пооканчивали.
Просто представь себе не грязную полуподвальную качалку с шитыми сто раз грушами и рваными перчатками. И не зал, где в качестве тренера бывший военный или бандит, а нормальный зал с нормальным тренером. И куда люди приходят не для того, что потом ночью отжимать мобилы или нести возмездие во имя луны, а для того, что бы жирок потрясти и адреналин погонять. Этакая гимнастика с силовым уклоном.
Плюс несколько профессиональных спортсменов, но у них своя программа и мы с ними боксируем редко.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:19:05
И еще - бухать, играть в игры и смотреть кино? Вы серьезно? Для этого тян тоже не нужна. Все равно, что проебывать жизньх2. Суки, испортили настроение.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:19:33
>>52611222
Значит, у вас редко секс?
А твоя тня всегда счастливая и улыбается, поди? И у вас все так лампово и уютно? У меня для тебя плохие новости.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:19:45
У меня восновном я тянами:
Секс/алкоголь/разговоры на философские темы/посещение вечеринок у МОИХ (важно) друзей.
Никогда в жизни, не знакомился с компанией друзьяшек тян.
Да и откуда они у них. Особенно у красивых.
Чем тян ВНЕШНЕ УСПЕШНА, тем на самом деле она в душе одинока.
мимо27лвлкун,отношений с тян 10+

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:03
Ну что за хуйня? Идите нахуй.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:07
>>52611283
Пик где, ньюфаг?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:09
>>52611283
>Аноны, как вы решаете батхерт недостатка времени в будни из-за работ обоих (ну и параллельно из-за транспорта)?
Никак. Хуёво, но я никак не могу раньше восьми домой приходить.
>В чьей квартире живет тян, в твоей или съемной?
Моя бабка очень вовремя откинулась.
>Кто готовит лучше?
Я, но дело в том, что мне совершенно лень готовить повседневные блюда. Зато раз в неделю у меня прокает скилл, я занимаю кухню и начинаю готовить какую-нибудь йобу.
>Как вы оцениваете свою тян по сравнению с другими?
Не совсем понял вопрос, да и пих у тебя охуительный.
>Как вы решаете проблему, когда тян говорит " я не хочу секса, давай не сегодня, я устала бла бла бла"?
Опять же, хуй знает.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:10
>>52611352
Съебать в ридонли и не засорять тред своими не нужными постами.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:21
>>52611222
Трипл не врет, я тебе пиздец как завидую.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:27
>>52611414
Вместе лучше, няшнее, счастливее. Кто бы что ни говорил.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:32
>>52611002
> гладить его, и еду готовить
Дать тян гладит ьсвои рубашки\брюки? Нахуя надо. Я же лучше делаю.
дать готовить? только когда меня дома нет, ибо я готовлю лучше большинства современных тней.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:44
>>52611434
Ты быдло.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:47
>>52611434
> разговоры на философские темы
Какое быдло тут у нас.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:20:57
>>52611445
релейтд.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:21:57
>>52611474
А хуле ты хотел? Офисный планктон-хомячок 27 лвл.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:22:18
>>52611474
Хайв.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:23:17
а я женат 2 года. Интересов общих 0. Ей бы про шмотки и про кого нибудь обсудить. Мне это все не интересно. Я бы по философствовал, по размышлял бы на любую тему, но вот хуй. Ее мозг не создан для этого. Не тянет. Так и живем. Она на кухне. Я на <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(46, 186, 64); color: rgb(217, 189, 248);">мизулин</span>е или на работе. все как у людей

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:23:21
>>52610951
Это точно блеать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:23:25
>>52611414
>И еще - бухать, играть в игры и смотреть кино? Вы серьезно?
А что не так? Вдвоём играть интереснее, кино я не смотрю уже несколько лет, бухать тоже не бухаю.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:13
>>52611560
Обоссал свиньянина.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:22
>>52611120
Ну.. У нее две ноги, есть верхние конечности, эпидермис черепа покрыт волосяной растительностью. А если серьезно, то чуть ниже меня, волосы черные, не длинные. Худенькая. По моей шкале ебабельности - 6 из 10. Однако ее обаятельность и женственность все компенсируют. Еще радует, что она не чухонка, даже дома выглядит прилично, без засаленных волос и растянутых маек.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:30
>>52611560
а женился зачем?
и сразу доп вопросы - какое у тебя и жены образование?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:34
>>52611283
>Аноны, как вы решаете батхерт недостатка времени в будни из-за работ обоих (ну и параллельно из-за транспорта)? у нас буквально нет времени из-за этого
Аналогично. Никак.
>В чьей квартире живет тян, в твоей или съемной?
В своей живет.
>Кто готовит лучше?
>я - бог готовки
Аналогично. Тян в хояйстве безрукая.
>Как вы оцениваете свою тян по сравнению с другими?
>на пике моя
Аналогично
>Как вы решаете проблему, когда тян говорит " я не хочу секса, давай не сегодня, я устала бла бла бла"?
Не было такого.
>У меня серьезные дилемы насчет будущего - я хочу жить один
Та же хуйня. Слишком самодостаточен.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:46
>>52611560
Нахуя она тебе?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:24:58
>>52611568
Иди нахуй. Все ваши занятия полная хуйня.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:25:23
>>52611568
>кино я не смотрю уже несколько лет, бухать тоже не бухаю
НАХУЙ ТАК ЖИТЬ, МУЧИНА?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:25:30
>>52611594
поешь говна, уебок

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:25:42
>>52611565
Я не понимаю вас. Тред вопросов про отношения с тян, значит тут в любом случае будут отписываться успешнокуны ну или те, кто соврет, в любом случае, почти все посты будут об успехе в отношениях - это же очевидно. Так зачем сюда заходить, зная, что тут будет? И зачем возмущаться потом?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:25:55
>>52611609
Есть моар твоей тянки? Шишка дымится.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:26:11
Хочется завайпать вас уебков.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:26:21
>>52611609-кун.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:26:52
>>52611659
Что ты делаешь на моей борде?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:26:56
>>52610168
>как ты с ней проводишь свободное время?
Никак, только ебля + час-полтора общения до и после.

>о чём разговариваете?
Она пытается сплетничать, я в ответ начинаю грузить ее историей или философией какой-нибудь. В разговорах, которые устраивают обоих обычно всякий бред и просто обжимания.

>И ответьте, у вас тян как друг или нет?
Как можно в друзьях держать того, кто тебя в любой момент может предать?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:01
>>52610168
Ничем, даже не разговариваем иногда, хуй знает, фильмы иногда смотрим. А так работаем всьо. У нас графики разные. Мы тока ночью друг друга видим. Я больше с анонами времени провожу чем с ней.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:17
>>52611604
> а женился зачем?
Чтоб ВСЕ КАК У ЛЮДЕЙ ОТ ОСТАЛЬНЫХ НЕ ОТЛИЧАТЬСЯ НА РАБОТЕ ОДОБРЯЮТ РОДСТВЕННИКИ ТОЖЕ СМЫСЛ ЖИЗНИ ПРОДОЛЖЕНИЕ РОДА ЛИЧИНКА ГРОБ КЛАДБИЩЕ ПИЗДЕЦ И ВООБЩЕ ТЕБЕ НЕ ПОНЯТЬ ТЫ Ж НЕ ДОРОС НЕ ЛЮБИЛ НЕ ВСТРЕЧАЛ НЕ СТРАДАЕШЬ РАССТРОЙСТВАМИ ПСИХИКИ

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:33
>>52611659
Все их посты так слащаво написаны, что просто пиздец. И они не отражают реально сути человеческих отношения. Какие кино-домино, прогулки. Что за хуйня?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:44
>>52611669
Новенький ньюфаг?
Нагуглил похожую "тян"

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:46
>>52611713
Проебываю рабочее время.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:27:49
Напиваюсь или упарываюсь и иду гулять с тян. Где мы охуенно гуляем, целуемся, обнимаемся и прочие приятные вещи. Но всегда просыпаясь с утра у меня берет чувство стыда и вообще нахуй я с ней трусь. Но когда упарываюсь опять иду с ней, это пиздец. И вообще она подлиза, любит все мои интересы и внемлет каждому моему слову. Мозг не ебет и строит из себя всю такую идеальную, я таких людей не люблю.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:28:01
>>52611604
от любви одни проблемы. поэтому жену выбирал, как в магазине. Штоб жрать готовила вкусно, внешне не дурна. А остальное думал стерпится слюбится.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:28:31
>>52611604
у обоих вышки

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:28:45
>>52611719
>И ответьте, у вас тян как друг или нет?
Как жена, три года уже.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:00
>>52611625
Но я же ограниченный мудак, который не может придумать интересное занятие. Если бы я жил один, я бы сначала проводил время в каких-то полузнакомых компаниях, потом меня бы заебало и я сидел бы дома, читая <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(180, 77, 188); color: rgb(151, 61, 5);">мизулин</span>. Было уже такое, нахуй надо.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:07
>>52610648
>она друг, которого можно трахать.
Тащемта, такая же хуита. Самый близкий и хороший друг. Ну остальных тупо нет.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:17
>>52611743
Baily Jay

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:45
>>52611716
> философией
Ощущение, что на борде одни фелосафы.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:49
>>52611753
А женился нахуй? На служанку нищезряплаты не хватало?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:29:55
>>52611036
Слабак.
Ты ничего не понимаешь в одиночестве. Одиночество- это как хорошее вино, его надо смаковать, оно не может быть в тягость конечно если ты ментально дорос до него

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:25
>>52611743
Я тебя затралил.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:30
>>52610863-кун.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:32
>>52611099
животные же.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:36
>>52611019
Да пусть лучше будет прыгать на хуйце Ашотов и помалкивать. Ох уж посоветуют на бордах.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:55
>>52611831
судя по тебе, на борде одни школьники

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:30:57
ЧТО Я УВИДЕЛ ИТТ
Сборище социоблядков, успешно живущих в мире, поебывающих своих ЛАМП, и работающих на крутой работе. Вы все такие современные и клевые, что тошно становится. Ублюдки, пиздуйте обратно <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(227, 134, 212); color: rgb(194, 208, 147);">милонов</span>, хули вы тут забыли?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:31:00
>>52611811
Охухенная тянка. Есть ID?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:31:26
>>52611831
Почему у здешних от философии припекает?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:31:37
>>52611405
А ты что думал, будешь на кисейную барышню походить?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:31:42
>>52611860
Сейчас я раскрою эту страшную тайну. Суть в том, что ЧЕЛОВЕЧЕСКИЕ ОТНОШЕНИЯ - ГОВНО БЕЗ ЗАДАЧ

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:31:50
>>52611646
а как жить по другому?
кино почти всегда одно и тоже.
бухать? А зачем?

другой анон

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:32:13
>>52611716
>философией какой-нибудь
Фелосаф ИТТ, все в Ницшу!!!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:32:22
>>52611871
Лучше школьники, чем мелкобуквенные старперы с башорга.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:32:25
>>52611860
В том, как люди чувствуют по отношению друг к другу. Что происходит между ними. Никто ничего подобного не написал.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:00
>>52611882
Два чаю, анон.
Я вот тоже люблю филасофию и даже подписан на паблик филасофия джокира))))

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:23
>>52611873
Ты считаешь, что на двaчaх место только скаму и неудачникам, или что? Это просто еще один способ убить время, очередной форум со своей уникальной манерой общения и внутренней средой, такой же способ, как игори и фильмы. Так почему же я должен уебывать?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:35
>>52611738
то что ты говно и об тебя все вытерают ноги или пытаются развести/наебать не означает, что кругом все такие же.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:35
>>52611946
А я - на мысли ватника.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:45
>>52611129
Фи. Если хочешь научиться грации- иди в спецвойска. Там тебя научат изящно убивать. Ниодин боксер не устоит против военспеца. Или адепта полноценных боевых искусств и тут я говорю не за азиатские йобатехники, а за синтетические школы, основная цель которых убить противника.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:33:50
Знакомы с детства, сначала крепко дружили, просидели за одной партой 11 лет. Было всё - в садике играли вместе, провожал из школы, первый поцелуй и всё такое. Она спортсменка, времени ну очень мало. Живем не вместе ясен хуй, еще рано. сначала выучиться нужно. Я пиздец как к ней привязан. Больше не расскажу, еще сглазите блять

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:34:03
>>52611882
Смотря какая философия. Если уровня б, то нахуй такая философия. И пиздуйте филосовствовать в /re/.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:34:07
>>52611873
Я тут уже пятый год сижу, схуяли я должен уйти? Из-за того, что у тебя припекает?
Ах да, друзей у меня полторы штуки, работа так себе, живу в мире, да.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:34:15
>>52611836
>конечно если ты ментально дорос до него
Еще не дорос
20lvl

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:34:17
>>52611973
Все такие. Не льсти себе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:34:42
>>52611222
про хача-трюкача уже сказали? Готовься ашота воспитывать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:35:05
>>52611925
А может ты нахуй пойдешь?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:35:12
>>52611858
как что-то плохое

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:35:50
>>52611925
Может быть потому, что тред называется, как вы проводите свободное время с тян?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:36:16
>>52612034
он уже с тобой в одном треде сидит. Куда дальше-то?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:36:31
>>52611873
А вот и припекантроп девственника за 23 нарисовался. Что ты-то в этом треде забыл?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:36:36
>>52611963
>на двaчaх место только скаму и неудачникам
This. Вы можете пойти в мизулин пообщаться с друзьяшками. А мы, скам и неудачники, хотим общаться между собой. Поссал на успешноблядь.

Гоните успешноблядей, насмехайтесь над ними.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:36:51
>>52612066
Похуй мне.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:37:05
>>52610168
Играем в настолки, ваха там, карты и прочее. Смотрим аниму. Летом гуляем в парках. Это с тян. С любовницей секс секс секс.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:37:16
>>52611925
Извини, антоша, у меня через пол часа заканчивается рабочий день и я съёбываю. Не так давно я писал пасту на тему самостоятельной жизни вместе с тян на отдельной квартире, у меня ушло 2 поста и больше часа времени.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:37:25
>>52612089
Детектор себе когда нормальный купишь, ущерб?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:37:35
>>52611222
Мерзкие ноги. Алсо, если ты ее ебешь раз в месяц, то призадумайся, кто же там шебуршит в остальное время?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:37:41
>>52612001
Тянка есть?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:38:01
>>52611873
Я не собираюсь уёбывать.
Я не виноват в том что ты асоциален, я сам такой, просто мне повезло с тнёй и я ухватился за этот шанс.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:38:42
>>52611406
> а для того, что бы жирок потрясти и адреналин погонять. Этакая гимнастика с силовым уклоном.
т.е. хуита. От бега и то пользы будет больше.
Я лучше пойду заниматься к бывшему вояке, ибо он способен научить реальному скилу отрывания конечностей и прошибания костей черепа

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:38:50
>>52611925
Обнимаем друг друга, иногда тян может просто ни с того ни с сего прижаться и сильно сильно обнять, сказать, что очень любит. Иногда даже немного плачет, когда уезжаю от нее на выходных. При общении можем и подъебнуть друг друга, и довольно неслабо. Есть и милое общение, как бы это не звучало, пропитанное нежностью и любовью. Все присутствует. Проблемы всегда решаются вместе, серьезно, но и юмор есть. При каких то несчастьях первым делом идешь именно к любимому человеку, ибо он всегда поддержит и поймет. Куча банальности, но так действительно есть в отношениях. Не знаю, что тебе еще написать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:38:57
>>52612092
что хотят скам и неудачники никого не ебет
Не нравится? Сделай тогда хоть что-то.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:38:58
>>52612110
Иди наверни пивка.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:05
>>52610168
Смотрим сериальчики, мультики, ходим на вписочки, разговариваем, кушаем, дерёмся, дурачимся, ругаемся, играем, нарушаем закон и т.д.
Разговариваем о личных проблемах, о смысле бытия, о взглядах на мир, рассказываем как веселились пока не виделись

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:11
sage
особенное, если они еще и красивые! даже если они друзья и родственники" заявила мне подруга на днях за рюмкой чая. Успешная баба для нее, это
- красавица, имеющая работящего достойного мужа, который обеспечивает так, что можно и не работать самой.
- из себя чего-то представляет, на случай отсутствия работящего мужа
- имеет двоих детей, животных, дачу, квартиру, одну из них сдает, 1-2 машины на семью, жрет и не толстеет, хорошо одевается,
- имеет наглость преврать хобби в работу и лениться в свое удовольствие, зарабатывая при этом деньги.
Подруга у меня далеко не дура, но выслушав ее я поняла, что по всем параметрам подпадаю под ее определение "успешных баб". Чевой-то не по себе стало. Считаете ли вы себя успешными и завидуете ли успешным бабам?) Собс-на, вопрос. Начну с себя, успешной себя не считаю, отстающей тоже. Красивым слегка завидую, независимо от их успешности. А в целом, меня не парит, кто сколько жрет и насколько богат. За родственников только рада. За подруг тоже.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:22
>>52612138
> просто мне повезло с тнёй
Наверное, она у тебя ИЗ НОРМАЛЬНЫХ КОТОРЫЕ ЕСТЬ ИХ МАЛО НО ОНИ ЕСТЬ ВОТ МОЯ ТО ТОЧНО НЕ ТАКАЯ УЖ Я ТО ЗНАЮ, да? А НАМ НЕ ПОНЯТЬ?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:22
>>52612104
В следующий раз читай ОП внимательнее.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:26
>>52611716
Смотрите, пиздабол, не познавший пизды пытается кому-то врать и самоутвердиться на анонимной борде.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:39
>>52612089
А что, надо КАК У ЛЮДЕЙ? Хуй соси, быдло.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:44
>>52612138
За анус себе ухватись.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:45
sage
Я ненавижу интернет-уродов, которые ненавидят всех, кто своим трудом, умом, талантом и упорством добился заслуженного успеха. Не реализованные, нищие, убогие людишки исподтишка делающие гадость всем, кто хоть чуть богаче, чуть лучше них, уж не говоря о настоящем успехе. А за чудовищное расслоение в обществе надо ненавидеть власть прридержащих, а не Ваенгу и Михайлова. Столько бездарных ублюдков в шоу бизнесе, но они никого не волнуют, потому что у них нет аншлагов.А бабок то тоже не мерено и квартиры и машины, зарабатывают, кто задницей, кто передницей. Поют чушь всякую, но этим уродам нет дела не до кого. А порядочным людям надо портить жизнь своей ненавистью. Ненавижу интернет-уродов, ненгавижу, ненавижу, ненавижу!!!!!!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:39:53
>>52612009
Не все такие. Не льсти себе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:06
sage
Я велосипедист со стажем 5 лет!
Я на дороге себя веду максимально аккуратно!
НО всё равно на дороге полно уродов!!!!

Сегодня вечером возвращался домой на своём любимом байке!

Проезжаю перекрёсток,(так как у меня многоскоростной байк на нём можно прилично разогнаться!) еду 40 смотрю с парковки возле МЕНТУРЫ выезжает целика я начинаю резко тормозить водитель целики чмошная скотина нажимает на тормоз в последний момент я чуть не влетаю ему в зад, объезжаю её что бы посмотреть что же за чудо аборта за рулём при этом злостно выплёвывая из себя весь запас нецензурщины которую я знаю!!! и о ужас за рулём сидит блондинка тут с пасажирского сиденья вылетает её хахоль перекаченый до ужаса бык и начинает на меня орать что я мол сам виноват а самый его главный довод был [ТЫ ЧТО НЕ ВИДИШЬ КТО ЗА РУЛЁМ?!k
И ЧТО И ЧТО БЛИН?! если ты баба и ты блондинка значит тебе можно ездить как вздумается!!!??????

Фигня войня дело бы на этом и закончилось! НО тут останавливается рядом белый марковник и от туда начинают в 4 глотки орать какие то бугаи на меня что я вот чудак такой на букву М и что я сам виноват!
Дальше веселее!!! Из марковника выходит бугай который в полтора раза больше меня и даёт мне такую чёткую зуботычину со словами [Тебя га..дон вообще убить надо!k

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:08
Обсуждаем всякие вопросы/стори/проблемы, смотрим аниму/сериальчики/кинцо, играем в игори, на музыкальных инструментах, ходим по выставкам, катаемся, она на самокате, я на велеке или просто бегу рядом. Короч много чего можно делать вдвоем, если бы я еще не таким ленивым хуем был, было бы вообще хорошо.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:16
sage
ЗА ЧТО ЗА ЧТО МЕНЯ УБИВАТЬ?! ЗА ТО ЧТО МЕНЯ МАШИНОЙ ЧУТЬ не сбила какая то шалава?!!!!!!!!!!!

я еле себя сдерживал что бы не вломить в ответ, но я понимал что если я вломлю то ему это будет как слону дробина а вот мне пробьют череп 100пудоф!!!

А на пороге ментовки в этот момент стояли и курили курили и стояли стояли и курили!!!!!!! доблестные наши полисаи!!! УРОДЫ что ж вы не охраняете своих граждан!!!!

НЕНАВИЖУ тупых уродов которые неуважают ВЕЛОСЕПИДИСТОВ МОТОЦИКЛИСТОВ(я не про тупых школьников скутеристов)!!!!!! Автомобилисты вы УРОДЫ!!!!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:19
Хуевом тред. Я уебываю.
оп

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:19
>>52612092
Но тян это не признак успеха. Я нищеброд, друзей нет, но есть тян. Сижу на двощах, играю в ебу, задрот, неужели я тут чужой.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:45
>>52612138
Она НИ ТАКАЯ И НИ ИЗМИНЯЕТ А ВСЕ ЧТО ГОВОРЯТ ЭТО ВРУТ. Тьфу на пиздолиза.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:47
>>52612200
Лови сажи.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:49
>>52611753
Ебать, я проигрываю с таких уебков. Зачем? Нет, ну нахуя вы женитесь?
Доставляет пилить друг-друга? Эта планета проебана.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:40:49
sage
Я ненавижу женщин. Вот полгода назад я их ещё любил. а как больше их познаю, так больше ненавижу. И вот читаю книги, и понимаю , что в самом деле они меркатильные, мерзкие, мстительные, да много чего ещё плохого, просто слов не могу подобрать. Да ещё мужиков портят с рожденияю то есть сыновей воспитывают, и мужики превращаются в тряпочек. Ненавижу. Но я их хочу(ЖЕНЩИН), и ненависть мешает мне с ними общаться, и просто я знаю что все женщины типитчны, знаю. что у неё в голове происходит, что она скажет, как себя поведёт, из-за этого мне с ними е интересно общаться. с ними попросту не о чем говорить. Так и охото сказать порой женщине, да я знаю, ол чём ты думаешь знаю. что у тебя в голове, так что давай без прилюдей, я тебя трахну и разойдёмся ). Это же ужас да. Это у меня какая-то болезнь психологическое растройство. Что со мной такое?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:41:09
>>52610168
оп хуй

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:41:39
sage
Подкумаривают люди, возносящие музыку превыше всего. Ненавижу статусы типа [жить без музыки, как дышать без воздухаk.
Вы что, с дуба рухнули? Как можно жить не вынимая пипок из ушей? Как вы существуете с постоянным [умц-умцk в голове? Вы же рабы! Без этого жить не можете!!! Без наушников вас кумарит. Поломка мп это уже стабильный депресс.
Ненавижу!
Когда говорю об этом своим друзьям, они смотрят на меня, как на идиота. Типа: как я могу такое говорить? Музыка это ведь наше все! Куда не зайдешь везде что-то играет.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:41:47
>>52612168
Хуй соси. Это сайт для скама. Ты был на ТОМ <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(228, 71, 219); color: rgb(129, 7, 158);">мизулин</span>е, <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(234, 213, 85); color: rgb(225, 209, 25);">милонов</span>оребенок? Видел его? Нет? Ну и иди на хуй.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:41:54
sage
Тупые истории показывают на экране, но зачем? Тетки лет по 80 орут за одно, а лет по 79 за другое. А ещё они все там любят РОМУ ЖЕЛУДЯ!!! Мне было интересно посмотреть на то, как Малахов говорил, что он кумир молодежи, и все парни мира обожают его! Заметьте! Не девушки! Я просто не понимаю, почему это шоу ещё существует?! Шоу явно для умственно отсталых. Кто его ещё смотрит?! Ладно бабушки, но девочки лет по 6 его смотрят! У меня сестра удивляется тем, что у нее в детсаду воспитательница включает им это шоу, и они с детьми смотрят! Интересно, они смотрят истории про убийства и гомосексуализм?! Я все сказал!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:02
>>52612201
Сохраню этот тред, чтобы зимними вечерами перечитывать его, и греться от тепла, которое извергает твой зад.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:05
"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don&amp;#39;t tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my &amp;#39;faithful slave,&amp;#39; as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news."

It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg, used only by the elite.

All her invitations without exception, written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows:

"If you have nothing better to do, Count [or Prince], and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer."

"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.

"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend&amp;#39;s mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even irony could be discerned.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:17
>>52611560
ИТТ сплошные фелосафы

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:19
"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are staying the whole evening, I hope?"

"And the fete at the English ambassador&amp;#39;s? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is coming for me to take me there."

"I thought today&amp;#39;s fete had been canceled. I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome."

"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed.

"Don&amp;#39;t tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev&amp;#39;s dispatch? You know everything."

"What can one say about it?" replied the prince in a cold, listless tone. "What has been decided? They have decided that Buonaparte has burnt his boats, and I believe that we are ready to burn ours."

Prince Vasili always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating a stale part. Anna Pavlovna Scherer on the contrary, despite her forty years, overflowed with animation and impulsiveness. To be an enthusiast had become her social vocation and, sometimes even when she did not feel like it, she became enthusiastic in order not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The subdued smile which, though it did not suit her faded features, always played round her lips expressed, as in a spoiled child, a continual consciousness of her charming defect, which she neither wished, nor could, nor considered it necessary, to correct.

In the midst of a conversation on political matters Anna Pavlovna burst out:

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:25
sage
Я ПРОЧИТАЛ СООБЩЕНИЕ В ФБ: Maiya Ossipova Раньше у меня был реальный успех во всех сферах....сплошные подъемы и процветание, но я всегда была в бунте против Бога: [Почему это не так, а почему то так, а не иначе, а это вообще что такое, почему и зачем?k Постоянно била кулаком в небо... Сейчас все наоборот: никакого процветания и подъемов ни в какой сфере, потеряно почти все, разбита полностью, но зато - никакого бунта против Бога.... Наслаждаюсь только одним: Его присутствием, Его милостью, Его ЛЮБОВЬЮ и Им самим... Многое непонятное мне Он сделал понятным....поэтому я ненавижу, когда дают неправильное учение в церкви и искажают ИСТИНУ....

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:29
>>52612169
Ща, пока на работе. Пивка или реддевил возьму. А в чем подьеб?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:31
>>52610168
Тян мне друг, я без этого не представляю себе чего-то большего. Тян в первую очередь должна быть тебе другом, а уже потом любимой, любовницей, женой, етц. Как проводим время, кроме всего прочего? Ебёмся.

Угораем, ходим в кино/кафе, в театр, ездим в деревню, на моря, в другие города на рок-концерты, гуляем ночами по городу, тусим с общими друзьями, занимаемся <span class="spoiler"><span class="spoiler">диванным и не совсем</span> спортом.</span>

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:34
"Oh, don&amp;#39;t speak to me of Austria. Perhaps I don&amp;#39;t understand things, but Austria never has wished, and does not wish, for war. She is betraying us! Russia alone must save Europe. Our gracious sovereign recognizes his high vocation and will be true to it. That is the one thing I have faith in! Our good and wonderful sovereign has to perform the noblest role on earth, and he is so virtuous and noble that God will not forsake him. He will fulfill his vocation and crush the hydra of revolution, which has become more terrible than ever in the person of this murderer and villain! We alone must avenge the blood of the just one.... Whom, I ask you, can we rely on?... England with her commercial spirit will not and cannot understand the Emperor Alexander&amp;#39;s loftiness of soul. She has refused to evacuate Malta. She wanted to find, and still seeks, some secret motive in our actions. What answer did Novosiltsev get? None. The English have not understood and cannot understand the self-abnegation of our Emperor who wants nothing for himself, but only desires the good of mankind. And what have they promised? Nothing! And what little they have promised they will not perform! Prussia has always declared that Buonaparte is invincible, and that all Europe is powerless before him.... And I don&amp;#39;t believe a word that Hardenburg says, or Haugwitz either. This famous Prussian neutrality is just a trap. I have faith only in God and the lofty destiny of our adored monarch. He will save Europe!"

She suddenly paused, smiling at her own impetuosity.

"I think," said the prince with a smile, "that if you had been sent instead of our dear Wintzingerode you would have captured the King of Prussia&amp;#39;s consent by assault. You are so eloquent. Will you give me a cup of tea?"

"In a moment. A propos," she added, becoming calm again, "I am expecting two very interesting men tonight, le Vicomte de Mortemart, who is connected with the Montmorencys through the Rohans, one of the best French families. He is one of the genuine emigres, the good ones. And also the Abbe Morio. Do you know that profound thinker? He has been received by the Emperor. Had you heard?"

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:38
sage
ОТВЕТ: Майя, спасибо за Ваше сообщение. Очень искренно и живо. Попытаюсь дать Вам расширенный ответ. Сразу скажу, что не буду обсуждать последнюю часть Вашего постинга (по поводу ненависти к инакомыслию). Я на семинарах спрашиваю людей: "Что лучше - быть богатым и потом попасть в ад, или быть небогатым и попасть в рай?" Люди кричат правильный ответ: "Быть небогатым, но попасть в рай". Тогда, выдержав паузу, я говорю им, что это неверный ответ! На лицах людей проскальзывает удивление... Но мое заявление стирает все сомнения: "Лучше быть и богатым, и попасть в рай!!!!"

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:45
>>52612115
в том, что бы делать пустые спойлеры? Ок, буду знать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:51
"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature."

Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.

"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone.

As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron Funke beaucoup d&amp;#39;estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness.

The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she said:

"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly beautiful."

The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.

"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid children? I don&amp;#39;t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don&amp;#39;t like him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so you don&amp;#39;t deserve to have them."
"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature."

Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.

"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone.

As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron Funke beaucoup d&amp;#39;estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness.

The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she said:

"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly beautiful."

The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.

"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid children? I don&amp;#39;t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don&amp;#39;t like him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so you don&amp;#39;t deserve to have them."
"I shall be delighted to meet them," said the prince. "But tell me," he added with studied carelessness as if it had only just occurred to him, though the question he was about to ask was the chief motive of his visit, "is it true that the Dowager Empress wants Baron Funke to be appointed first secretary at Vienna? The baron by all accounts is a poor creature."

Prince Vasili wished to obtain this post for his son, but others were trying through the Dowager Empress Marya Fedorovna to secure it for the baron.

Anna Pavlovna almost closed her eyes to indicate that neither she nor anyone else had a right to criticize what the Empress desired or was pleased with.

"Baron Funke has been recommended to the Dowager Empress by her sister," was all she said, in a dry and mournful tone.

As she named the Empress, Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s face suddenly assumed an expression of profound and sincere devotion and respect mingled with sadness, and this occurred every time she mentioned her illustrious patroness. She added that Her Majesty had deigned to show Baron Funke beaucoup d&amp;#39;estime, and again her face clouded over with sadness.

The prince was silent and looked indifferent. But, with the womanly and courtierlike quickness and tact habitual to her, Anna Pavlovna wished both to rebuke him (for daring to speak he had done of a man recommended to the Empress) and at the same time to console him, so she said:

"Now about your family. Do you know that since your daughter came out everyone has been enraptured by her? They say she is amazingly beautiful."

The prince bowed to signify his respect and gratitude.

"I often think," she continued after a short pause, drawing nearer to the prince and smiling amiably at him as if to show that political and social topics were ended and the time had come for intimate conversation- "I often think how unfairly sometimes the joys of life are distributed. Why has fate given you two such splendid children? I don&amp;#39;t speak of Anatole, your youngest. I don&amp;#39;t like him," she added in a tone admitting of no rejoinder and raising her eyebrows. "Two such charming children. And really you appreciate them less than anyone, and so you don&amp;#39;t deserve to have them."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:42:58
>>52612307
Шлюха твоя уже не греет, быдло? Или у нее сейчас смена на хуйце Ашота?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:00
>>52612258
> Нет, ну нахуя вы женитесь?
Чтоб ВСЕ КАК У ЛЮДЕЙ ДАВНО УЖЕ ПОРА НАДО ПОТОМУ ЧТО ТАК СКАЗАЛИ МАМА ПАПА ПОП И ПУТИН И ВООБЩЕ ЧТОБ ТЕБЯ ДОМА КТО ТО ЖДАЛ ПОТОМУ ЧТО ЖРАТЬ ПРИГОТОВИТЬ И ВООБЩЕ ТЫ Ж ЕЩЕ НЕ ВСТРЕЧАЛ ТУ САМУЮ НЕ ЛЮБИЛ НЕ ДОРОС НЕ ПОНЯЛ И СЛИШКОМ В АДЕКВАТЕ СМЫСЛ ЖИЗНИ ПРОДОЛЖЕНИЕ РОДА ЛАМПОВО ЛАМПИТЬСЯ В ЛАМПЕРДАК. Ватник.фм, не переключайтесь.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:08
sage
ОТВЕТ: Майя, спасибо за Ваше сообщение. Очень искренно и живо. Попытаюсь дать Вам расширенный ответ. Сразу скажу, что не буду обсуждать последнюю часть Вашего постинга (по поводу ненависти к инакомыслию). Я на семинарах спрашиваю людей: "Что лучше - быть богатым и потом попасть в ад, или быть небогатым и попасть в рай?" Люди кричат правильный ответ: "Быть небогатым, но попасть в рай". Тогда, выдержав паузу, я говорю им, что это неверный ответ! На лицах людей проскальзывает удивление... Но мое заявление стирает все сомнения: "Лучше быть и богатым, и попасть в рай!!!!"33333

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:11
And she smiled her ecstatic smile.

"I can&amp;#39;t help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I lack the bump of paternity."

"Don&amp;#39;t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her Majesty&amp;#39;s and you were pitied...."

The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.

"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.

"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.

"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can&amp;#39;t be helped!"

He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.

"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and though I don&amp;#39;t feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya."

Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.

And she smiled her ecstatic smile.

"I can&amp;#39;t help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I lack the bump of paternity."

"Don&amp;#39;t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her Majesty&amp;#39;s and you were pitied...."

The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.

"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.

"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.

"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can&amp;#39;t be helped!"

He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.

"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and though I don&amp;#39;t feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya."

Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.

And she smiled her ecstatic smile.

"I can&amp;#39;t help it," said the prince. "Lavater would have said I lack the bump of paternity."

"Don&amp;#39;t joke; I mean to have a serious talk with you. Do you know I am dissatisfied with your younger son? Between ourselves" (and her face assumed its melancholy expression), "he was mentioned at Her Majesty&amp;#39;s and you were pitied...."

The prince answered nothing, but she looked at him significantly, awaiting a reply. He frowned.

"What would you have me do?" he said at last. "You know I did all a father could for their education, and they have both turned out fools. Hippolyte is at least a quiet fool, but Anatole is an active one. That is the only difference between them." He said this smiling in a way more natural and animated than usual, so that the wrinkles round his mouth very clearly revealed something unexpectedly coarse and unpleasant.

"And why are children born to such men as you? If you were not a father there would be nothing I could reproach you with," said Anna Pavlovna, looking up pensively.

"I am your faithful slave and to you alone I can confess that my children are the bane of my life. It is the cross I have to bear. That is how I explain it to myself. It can&amp;#39;t be helped!"

He said no more, but expressed his resignation to cruel fate by a gesture. Anna Pavlovna meditated.

"Have you never thought of marrying your prodigal son Anatole?" she asked. "They say old maids have a mania for matchmaking, and though I don&amp;#39;t feel that weakness in myself as yet,I know a little person who is very unhappy with her father. She is a relation of yours, Princess Mary Bolkonskaya."

Prince Vasili did not reply, though, with the quickness of memory and perception befitting a man of the world, he indicated by a movement of the head that he was considering this information.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:25
sage

Мало кто из людей знает секрет, а те, кто его знает, живут без нужды и в близости с Богом. А секрет, действительно, есть. Он настолько прост, но очень эффективен! И если вы знаете его, вы не будете никогда иметь нужды. Однако, я не могу вам его сказать, так как "секрет" действует только для тех, кто его лично открыл. Я прочитал много книг и статей, и 12 лет назад я понял этот секрет. Как мне хочется его вам рассказать! Но я понимаю, что если раскрыть его вам сейчас, он не будет действовать в вашей жизни! Прочитайте мою статью еще раз, и вы сможете увидеть направление к ответу на правильный вопрос.

(Дело ещё в том, что многие не способны правильно поставить вопрос!!!)

Если статья понравилась, нажимаем [ПОДЕЛИТЬСЯk.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:28
"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That&amp;#39;s what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"

"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed &amp;#39;the King of Prussia.&amp;#39; He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov&amp;#39;s and will be here tonight."

"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that&amp;#39;s all I want."

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor&amp;#39;s hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.

"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I&amp;#39;ll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski&amp;#39;s wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family&amp;#39;s behalf that I&amp;#39;ll start my apprenticeship as old maid."
"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That&amp;#39;s what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"

"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed &amp;#39;the King of Prussia.&amp;#39; He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov&amp;#39;s and will be here tonight."

"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that&amp;#39;s all I want."

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor&amp;#39;s hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.

"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I&amp;#39;ll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski&amp;#39;s wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family&amp;#39;s behalf that I&amp;#39;ll start my apprenticeship as old maid."
"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That&amp;#39;s what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"

"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed &amp;#39;the King of Prussia.&amp;#39; He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov&amp;#39;s and will be here tonight."

"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that&amp;#39;s all I want."

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor&amp;#39;s hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.

"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I&amp;#39;ll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski&amp;#39;s wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family&amp;#39;s behalf that I&amp;#39;ll start my apprenticeship as old maid."
"Do you know," he said at last, evidently unable to check the sad current of his thoughts, "that Anatole is costing me forty thousand rubles a year? And," he went on after a pause, "what will it be in five years, if he goes on like this?" Presently he added: "That&amp;#39;s what we fathers have to put up with.... Is this princess of yours rich?"

"Her father is very rich and stingy. He lives in the country. He is the well-known Prince Bolkonski who had to retire from the army under the late Emperor, and was nicknamed &amp;#39;the King of Prussia.&amp;#39; He is very clever but eccentric, and a bore. The poor girl is very unhappy. She has a brother; I think you know him, he married Lise Meinen lately. He is an aide-de-camp of Kutuzov&amp;#39;s and will be here tonight."

"Listen, dear Annette," said the prince, suddenly taking Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand and for some reason drawing it downwards. "Arrange that affair for me and I shall always be your most devoted slave- slafe wigh an f, as a village elder of mine writes in his reports. She is rich and of good family and that&amp;#39;s all I want."

And with the familiarity and easy grace peculiar to him, he raised the maid of honor&amp;#39;s hand to his lips, kissed it, and swung it to and fro as he lay back in his armchair, looking in another direction.

"Attendez," said Anna Pavlovna, reflecting, "I&amp;#39;ll speak to Lise, young Bolkonski&amp;#39;s wife, this very evening, and perhaps the thing can be arranged. It shall be on your family&amp;#39;s behalf that I&amp;#39;ll start my apprenticeship as old maid."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:38
sage
Что может быть хуже общественного транспорта? Много чего, но сейчас именно об автобусах. Куда едут все эти люди в шесть утра? Ну ладно на работу, но бабушки то куда, еле стоят, но в шесть утра им по-любому куда-то надо съездить. Стоишь себе в автобусе, и какой-то недалекий или недалекая смотрит на тебя не отводя взгляд. Ну что посмотреть больше некуда? Позиция большинства не устраивает автобус иди пешком, я бы пошла, но встать мне тогда надо будет в 4 утра, а я на такое не готова. Еще три месяца мне осталось терпеть этот кошмар, потом получу права и свобода. Эти красные коробки буду [задалекоk объезжать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:48
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room was gradually filling. The highest Petersburg society was assembled there: people differing widely in age and character but alike in the social circle to which they belonged. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, the beautiful Helene, came to take her father to the ambassador&amp;#39;s entertainment; she wore a ball dress and her badge as maid of honor. The youthful little Princess Bolkonskaya, known as la femme la plus seduisante de Petersbourg,* was also there. She had been married during the previous winter, and being pregnant did not go to any large gatherings, but only to small receptions. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, Hippolyte, had come with Mortemart, whom he introduced. The Abbe Morio and many others had also come.

*The most fascinating woman in Petersburg.

To each new arrival Anna Pavlovna said, "You have not yet seen my aunt," or "You do not know my aunt?" and very gravely conducted him or her to a little old lady, wearing large bows of ribbon in her cap, who had come sailing in from another room as soon as the guests began to arrive; and slowly turning her eyes from the visitor to her aunt, Anna Pavlovna mentioned each one&amp;#39;s name and then left them.

Each visitor performed the ceremony of greeting this old aunt whom not one of them knew, not one of them wanted to know, and not one of them cared about; Anna Pavlovna observed these greetings with mournful and solemn interest and silent approval. The aunt spoke to each of them in the same words, about their health and her own, and the health of Her Majesty, "who, thank God, was better today." And each visitor, though politeness prevented his showing impatience, left the old woman with a sense of relief at having performed a vexatious duty and did not return to her the whole evening.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:43:57
sage
Я работаю в тепловых сетях города, в службе ремонта. Каждый день я прихожу туда в половину девятого утра, переодеваюсь, а затем, приступая к работе, начинает закипать моя ненависть. Дело в том, что в нашей бригаде работают шесть человек, и четверо из этого числа, включая меня, действительно работают, а оставшиеся двое ничего, практически, не делают. В основном мы выезжаем на объекты, ремонтируем трубы, меняем задвижки и т.д. И когда мы начинаем работать, то эти двое лоботрясов просто ложатся где-нибудь в кусты и мирно похрапывают. Как я это ненавижу!!! Однажды мы занимались вырубкой кустарника около теплотрассы. Так эти два охламона сидели на трубе и спокойно играли в карты! У меня было такое сильное желание подойти к ним, и вонзить в каждого топор, разов по пять.

А в другой раз, мастер отправил нас засыпать щебенкой подвал одного дома, в котором произошла небольшая утечка воды. Начало было обнадеживающим: все шесть человек работали нормально. Но наверное не выдержала лень одного тугодума, и он сморенный [упорной работойk лег прямо на кучу щебенки, и заснул на ней лицом вверх, предусмотрительно закрыв лицо каской, чтобы солнце не светило Затем и его кент тоже упал на кучу. Мы с негодованием таскали эту гребанную щебенку, пока эти двое мирно спали на куче щебенки. Но ничего, они даже не подозревают, что над каждым из них уже заносится по две совковой лопаты

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:06
>>52612297
Да ты и сам на ТОМ не был, раз пишешь такую чушь. А если и заходил, то как был идиотом в терминальной стадии, так и остался.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:14
>>52610168
>расскажи как ты с ней проводишь свободное время?
Ебашим с работы на работу.
Еще она выплачивает ипотеку, а я плачу за нее в кафетериях.
Она устраивает мне истерики, а я жалуюсь на нее друзьям.
Она готовит всякие ништяки, а я делаю ей массажик.
Я помогаю ей с телефоном, а она читает за меня регламенты.
Ну кароч, мы вместе 2 года и стали крепкой ячейкой общества идущих к успеху. Было бы даже заебись, не будь я таким лунатиком.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:18
sage
Вернее даже не ненавижу, это приводит меня в состояние бешенства. Сидит здоровый мужик, руки ноги есть, мозги вроде тоже, пьет пиво и брюзжит [Вот он такая нехорошая взяла от меня и ушлаk. Так и хочется дать в лоб, чтоб не ныл и заткнулся. Если ушла значит сам виноват, не удержал, или повел себя не правильно. Почему люди ищут соринку в чужих глазах и не видят бревно в собственном? Или очередная блондинка начинает скулить, что у нее испортился маникюр. Да твою же маму, люди на планете тысячами молча умирают от голода, а она не знает как пережить оторванный ноготь. Или внеочередные жалобы на правительство, вот мол сидят на верху бабло под себя гребут. А что ты сделал для страны? Не воровал и честно работал? Этого мало, нельзя обвинять, нужно идти и делать. Это не значит что нужно сбиваться в массы и подымать революцию. Почему ты не можешь пробраться наверх и сделать так как нужно? Нет, все кругом плачут и жалуются, жалуются и плачут. Не проходит и дня чтобы я не услышал очередную жалобу. Почему нельзя посмотреть кругом и увидеть людей которым действительно плохо, но они терпеливо несут свой крест. Порой едешь в маршрутке и видишь человека с которым случилась беда, нет рук, ног или он слепой. Но он не жалуется, хотя ему все в этой жизни достается с трудом, ему чтоб за хлебом сходить это как целое путешествие с поджидающими опасностями. Так почему ты с руками, ногами, мозгами постоянно жалуешься?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:25
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her a little while, felt as if they too were becoming, like her, full of life and health. All who talked to her, and at each word saw her bright smile and the constant gleam of her white teeth, thought that they were in a specially amiable mood that day.

The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her. "I have brought my work," said she in French, displaying her bag and addressing all present. "Mind, Annette, I hope you have not played a wicked trick on me," she added, turning to her hostess. "You wrote that it was to be quite a small reception, and just see how badly I am dressed." And she spread out her arms to show her short-waisted, lace-trimmed, dainty gray dress, girdled with a broad ribbon just below the breast.

"Soyez tranquille, Lise, you will always be prettier than anyone else," replied Anna Pavlovna.

"You know," said the princess in the same tone of voice and still in French, turning to a general, "my husband is deserting me? He is going to get himself killed. Tell me what this wretched war is for?" she added, addressing Prince Vasili, and without waiting for an answer she turned to speak to his daughter, the beautiful Helene.

"What a delightful woman this little princess is!" said Prince Vasili to Anna Pavlovna.
The young Princess Bolkonskaya had brought some work in a gold-embroidered velvet bag. Her pretty little upper lip, on which a delicate dark down was just perceptible, was too short for her teeth, but it lifted all the more sweetly, and was especially charming when she occasionally drew it down to meet the lower lip. As is always the case with a thoroughly attractive woman, her defect- the shortness of her upper lip and her half-open mouth- seemed to be her own special and peculiar form of beauty. Everyone brightened at the sight of this pretty young woman, so soon to become a mother, so full of life and health, and carrying her burden so lightly. Old men and dull dispirited young ones who looked at her, after being in her company and talking to her

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:41
sage
Бывает, доверяешь человеку а он тебе врет нагло в глаза и тогда ты понимаешь, что раз он тебе врет значит ему наплевать на твое отношение, чувства, мысли. Я просто не переношу этих людишек, которые врут, будь моя воля я бы отправил их всех на один какой-нибудь остров и пусть они там все сами себе врут. Ложь порождает ложь. Задумайтесь люди, не стоит врать своим близким людям, ибо от этого лучше не будет никому. Лучше и вправду горькая правда. Я ненавижу когда девушка врет своему парню: [Я была с Олей (или какой-нибудь очередной неизвестной подружкой)k. А сама была с каким-нибудь другом своим. Я что, зверь? Да лучше сказать правду, так меньше будет подозрений, ведь так, да? А если ты впоследствии узнаешь, что она тебе соврала, то тогда ты начнешь думать, что что-то здесь нечисто, что-то не так. Друзья, которые врут для того, чтобы тебе было лучше.. Я думаю, что настоящие друзья, когда бы то ни было все равно будут говорить только правду, нравится она тебе или нет, потому что они твои друзья и всегда должны говорить тебе правду, нравится она тебе или нет. Поэтому, я прошу, не стоит врать своим друзьям и близким. Говорите друг другу правду и вас тогда будут уважать, ценить, а ненавидеть. Верьте нам..

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:48
>>52612201
Ты слишком злой. Серьёзно, хуёво это, если ты будешь так злиться из-за любой ерунды, ничем хорошим это не закончится. Ты и в жизни бугуртишь из-за всего, что тебе не нравится?
Тебе, конечно, похуй на то, что я сейчас скажу, но попробуй научиться спокойно принимать то, чего не можешь изменить и на что никак не можешь повлиять. В твоей злости нет никакого смысла, если она не конструктивна.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:53
sage
Вот просто не выносимо, когда человек тебе врёт! Особенно когда ты знаешь правду и проверяешь его, а он начинает врать!

Например, когда проверяешь девушку на верность, заранее зная, что она тебе изменила, ну вот захотелось тебе её проверить, чтобы хотя бы в её честности убедится. Но тут она начинает врать, причём так глупо. Начинает сочинять нелепые истории, в которые просто не верится. И уверяет тебя в том, что она тебя любит, уважает и никогда бы не соврала, начинается ссора. А ведь когда ты ей скажешь, что всё знал и она заплачет, больно и тому и другому. Враньё никогда не приведет к добру. Это ситуация из личного опыта, после этой ситуации просто НЕНАВИЖУ, когда мне врут.

Но ведь враньё бывает разное. Бывает враньё, которое описано выше, то есть враньё чтобы оправдаться и не чувствовать себя виноватым. Но ведь ещё нельзя забывать ложь для добра. Например, Дед Мороз, как бы враньё, но очень приятное враньё для ребёнка. Ведь дети верят в него и каждый Новый Год ждут. Такое враньё приносит радость!

Ложь это конечно самое низкое, что есть в человеке. Ложь порождает боль и зло в душе! Человеку становится очень плохо, когда он узнаёт, что ему врали! Тайное всегда становится явным! Это высказывание моё жизненное кредо. И я хочу, чтобы на всей планете люди меньше лгали друг другу. Тогда они начнут доверять друг другу намного больше! Я НЕНАВИЖУ ЛОЖЬ!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:54
>>52612351
>ко-ко-ко
Продолжай, битардик.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:44:59
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known grandee of Catherine&amp;#39;s time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else in that drawing room.

"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.

Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty&amp;#39;s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man."

"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very interesting but hardly feasible."

"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe&amp;#39;s plan chimerical.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known grandee of Catherine&amp;#39;s time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else in that drawing room.

"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.

Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty&amp;#39;s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man."

"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very interesting but hardly feasible."

"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe&amp;#39;s plan chimerical.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known grandee of Catherine&amp;#39;s time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else in that drawing room.

"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.

Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty&amp;#39;s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man."

"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very interesting but hardly feasible."

"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe&amp;#39;s plan chimerical.
One of the next arrivals was a stout, heavily built young man with close-cropped hair, spectacles, the light-colored breeches fashionable at that time, a very high ruffle, and a brown dress coat. This stout young man was an illegitimate son of Count Bezukhov, a well-known grandee of Catherine&amp;#39;s time who now lay dying in Moscow. The young man had not yet entered either the military or civil service, as he had only just returned from abroad where he had been educated, and this was his first appearance in society. Anna Pavlovna greeted him with the nod she accorded to the lowest hierarchy in her drawing room. But in spite of this lowest-grade greeting, a look of anxiety and fear, as at the sight of something too large and unsuited to the place, came over her face when she saw Pierre enter. Though he was certainly rather bigger than the other men in the room, her anxiety could only have reference to the clever though shy, but observant and natural, expression which distinguished him from everyone else in that drawing room.

"It is very good of you, Monsieur Pierre, to come and visit a poor invalid," said Anna Pavlovna, exchanging an alarmed glance with her aunt as she conducted him to her.

Pierre murmured something unintelligible, and continued to look round as if in search of something. On his way to the aunt he bowed to the little princess with a pleased smile, as to an intimate acquaintance.

Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s alarm was justified, for Pierre turned away from the aunt without waiting to hear her speech about Her Majesty&amp;#39;s health. Anna Pavlovna in dismay detained him with the words: "Do you know the Abbe Morio? He is a most interesting man."

"Yes, I have heard of his scheme for perpetual peace, and it is very interesting but hardly feasible."

"You think so?" rejoined Anna Pavlovna in order to say something and get away to attend to her duties as hostess. But Pierre now committed a reverse act of impoliteness. First he had left a lady before she had finished speaking to him, and now he continued to speak to another who wished to get away. With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe&amp;#39;s plan chimerical.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:02
>>52612328
Правильно, для всего остального есть любовницы. Тян это просто типа другана, но которого можно ебать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:13
>>52612255
Лолблять, как же вам, долбоёбам, припекло.
Я хуй знает, изменяет или нет, но если узнаю 100% сьебу сразу же, не проронив ни слова

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:17
"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile.

And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to another group whose center was the abbe.

Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.
"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile.

And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to another group whose center was the abbe.

Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.
"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile.

And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to another group whose center was the abbe.

Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.
"We will talk of it later," said Anna Pavlovna with a smile.

And having got rid of this young man who did not know how to behave, she resumed her duties as hostess and continued to listen and watch, ready to help at any point where the conversation might happen to flag. As the foreman of a spinning mill, when he has set the hands to work, goes round and notices here a spindle that has stopped or there one that creaks or makes more noise than it should, and hastens to check the machine or set it in proper motion, so Anna Pavlovna moved about her drawing room, approaching now a silent, now a too-noisy group, and by a word or slight rearrangement kept the conversational machine in steady, proper, and regular motion. But amid these cares her anxiety about Pierre was evident. She kept an anxious watch on him when he approached the group round Mortemart to listen to what was being said there, and again when he passed to another group whose center was the abbe.

Pierre had been educated abroad, and this reception at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s was the first he had attended in Russia. He knew that all the intellectual lights of Petersburg were gathered there and, like a child in a toyshop, did not know which way to look, afraid of missing any clever conversation that was to be heard. Seeing the self-confident and refined expression on the faces of those present he was always expecting to hear something very profound. At last he came up to Morio. Here the conversation seemed interesting and he stood waiting for an opportunity to express his own views, as young people are fond of doing.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:18
>>52612297
>Это сайт для скама.
Эты был сайт для скама.
>Ну и иди на хуй
мне уже с тобой в одном треде сидеть приходится. Куда дальше то?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:34
>>52612400
Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna.

The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d&amp;#39;hotel serves up as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the murder of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte&amp;#39;s hatred of him.

"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte."

The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.

"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef on a hot dish.

The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile.Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna.

The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d&amp;#39;hotel serves up as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the murder of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte&amp;#39;s hatred of him.

"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte."

The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.

"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef on a hot dish.

The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile.Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception was in full swing. The spindles hummed steadily and ceaselessly on all sides. With the exception of the aunt, beside whom sat only one elderly lady, who with her thin careworn face was rather out of place in this brilliant society, the whole company had settled into three groups. One, chiefly masculine, had formed round the abbe. Another, of young people, was grouped round the beautiful Princess Helene, Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s daughter, and the little Princess Bolkonskaya, very pretty and rosy, though rather too plump for her age. The third group was gathered round Mortemart and Anna Pavlovna.

The vicomte was a nice-looking young man with soft features and polished manners, who evidently considered himself a celebrity but out of politeness modestly placed himself at the disposal of the circle in which he found himself. Anna Pavlovna was obviously serving him up as a treat to her guests. As a clever maitre d&amp;#39;hotel serves up as a specially choice delicacy a piece of meat that no one who had seen it in the kitchen would have cared to eat, so Anna Pavlovna served up to her guests, first the vicomte and then the abbe, as peculiarly choice morsels. The group about Mortemart immediately began discussing the murder of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien. The vicomte said that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had perished by his own magnanimity, and that there were particular reasons for Buonaparte&amp;#39;s hatred of him.

"Ah, yes! Do tell us all about it, Vicomte," said Anna Pavlovna, with a pleasant feeling that there was something a la Louis XV in the sound of that sentence: "Contez nous cela, Vicomte."

The vicomte bowed and smiled courteously in token of his willingness to comply. Anna Pavlovna arranged a group round him, inviting everyone to listen to his tale.

"The vicomte knew the duc personally," whispered Anna Pavlovna to of the guests. "The vicomte is a wonderful raconteur," said she to another. "How evidently he belongs to the best society," said she to a third; and the vicomte was served up to the company in the choicest and most advantageous style, like a well-garnished joint of roast beef on a hot dish.

The vicomte wished to begin his story and gave a subtle smile.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:45:49
"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of another group.

The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its effect.

"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her unchanging smile.

"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, smilingly inclining his head.

The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor&amp;#39;s face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.

The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene.

"Wait a moment, I&amp;#39;ll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag."
"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of another group.

The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its effect.

"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her unchanging smile.

"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, smilingly inclining his head.

The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor&amp;#39;s face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.

The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene.

"Wait a moment, I&amp;#39;ll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag."
"Come over here, Helene, dear," said Anna Pavlovna to the beautiful young princess who was sitting some way off, the center of another group.

The princess smiled. She rose with the same unchanging smile with which she had first entered the room- the smile of a perfectly beautiful woman. With a slight rustle of her white dress trimmed with moss and ivy, with a gleam of white shoulders, glossy hair, and sparkling diamonds, she passed between the men who made way for her, not looking at any of them but smiling on all, as if graciously allowing each the privilege of admiring her beautiful figure and shapely shoulders, back, and bosom- which in the fashion of those days were very much exposed- and she seemed to bring the glamour of a ballroom with her as she moved toward Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so lovely that not only did she not show any trace of coquetry, but on the contrary she even appeared shy of her unquestionable and all too victorious beauty. She seemed to wish, but to be unable, to diminish its effect.

"How lovely!" said everyone who saw her; and the vicomte lifted his shoulders and dropped his eyes as if startled by something extraordinary when she took her seat opposite and beamed upon him also with her unchanging smile.

"Madame, I doubt my ability before such an audience," said he, smilingly inclining his head.

The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary. She smilingly waited. All the time the story was being told she sat upright, glancing now at her beautiful round arm, altered in shape by its pressure on the table, now at her still more beautiful bosom, on which she readjusted a diamond necklace. From time to time she smoothed the folds of her dress, and whenever the story produced an effect she glanced at Anna Pavlovna, at once adopted just the expression she saw on the maid of honor&amp;#39;s face, and again relapsed into her radiant smile.

The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene.

"Wait a moment, I&amp;#39;ll get my work.... Now then, what are you thinking of?" she went on, turning to Prince Hippolyte. "Fetch me my workbag."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:03
sage
Бесит проклятый день ВДВ! Этот день правильней бы назвать днём гопарей, потому что пьяные вдвшники и быки в тельняшках и беретах ходят и хулиганят! И страдают от этого нормальные люди! Разве можно так праздновать! Лучше бы парад устроили или салюты запускали. А то эти уроды в тельняшках нажрутся в хлам и начнут буянить: то в фонтаны полезут, то погром устроят, а то ещё хуже: изобьют прохожих! Такое чувство, что всех зеков из тюряги выпустили, причем массово! Кстати, как раз скоро этот проклятый день ВДВ. Скорее бы отменили этот сраный праздник! Это не праздник, а день гопников!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:07
>>52612446
Долбоеб здесь только ты.
> 100% сьебу сразу же, не проронив ни слова
ХОМЯК ЯРОСТИ. Спешите видеть.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:08
>>52612404
> мы вместе 2 года и стали крепкой ячейкой

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:17
>>52612328
> Тян в первую очередь должна быть тебе другом, а уже потом любимой, любовницей, женой, етц.
Под<span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(86, 10, 4); color: rgb(207, 55, 156);">мизулин</span>ну.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:22
sage
Да, я дура, что все терплю, но у меня нет выхода! Я ненавижу его за все, я проклинаю тот день, когда встретила его! Мне 21, а я чувствую себя полностью раздавленной и ненужной! Эта тварь живет со мной, поднимает на меня руку, оскорбляет, из-за него я лишилась друзей, я забыла, что такое радость жизни! Каждый день это повторяется! Живем в чужом городе, на съемной квартире, никуда не могу уйти, так как тупо не к кому! Снимать квартиру одной дорого! Не знаю что делать? Помогитеее! В голове страшные мысли!
Я его ненавижу!!!ненавижу!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:27
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in her seat.

"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she took up her work.

Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her.

Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister&amp;#39;s, but while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.

"It&amp;#39;s not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.

"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he had uttered them.

He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.

The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress&amp;#39; favors, and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc&amp;#39;s mercy. The latter spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in her seat.

"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she took up her work.

Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her.

Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister&amp;#39;s, but while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.

"It&amp;#39;s not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.

"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he had uttered them.

He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.

The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress&amp;#39; favors, and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc&amp;#39;s mercy. The latter spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.
There was a general movement as the princess, smiling and talking merrily to everyone at once, sat down and gaily arranged herself in her seat.

"Now I am all right," she said, and asking the vicomte to begin, she took up her work.

Prince Hippolyte, having brought the workbag, joined the circle and moving a chair close to hers seated himself beside her.

Le charmant Hippolyte was surprising by his extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, but yet more by the fact that in spite of this resemblance he was exceedingly ugly. His features were like his sister&amp;#39;s, but while in her case everything was lit up by a joyous, self-satisfied, youthful, and constant smile of animation, and by the wonderful classic beauty of her figure, his face on the contrary was dulled by imbecility and a constant expression of sullen self-confidence, while his body was thin and weak. His eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed puckered into a vacant, wearied grimace, and his arms and legs always fell into unnatural positions.

"It&amp;#39;s not going to be a ghost story?" said he, sitting down beside the princess and hastily adjusting his lorgnette, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.

"Why no, my dear fellow," said the astonished narrator, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because I hate ghost stories," said Prince Hippolyte in a tone which showed that he only understood the meaning of his words after he had uttered them.

He spoke with such self-confidence that his hearers could not be sure whether what he said was very witty or very stupid. He was dressed in a dark-green dress coat, knee breeches of the color of cuisse de nymphe effrayee, as he called it, shoes, and silk stockings.

The vicomte told his tale very neatly. It was an anecdote, then current, to the effect that the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien had gone secretly to Paris to visit Mademoiselle George; that at her house he came upon Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the famous actress&amp;#39; favors, and that in his presence Napoleon happened to fall into one of the fainting fits to which he was subject, and was thus at the duc&amp;#39;s mercy. The latter spared him, and this magnanimity Bonaparte subsequently repaid by death.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:36
>>52612436
Раздался пронзительный голос со стороны параши. Но битарды не обратили на него внимания. Пиздолиз не человек, и сегодня его ждет очень трудная ночь.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:42
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies looked agitated.

"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the little princess.

"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of the story prevented her from going on with it.

The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by the young man&amp;#39;s simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.

"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the world!"

"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning.

At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The Italian&amp;#39;s face instantly changed and assumed an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing with women.

"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate," said he.

Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies looked agitated.

"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the little princess.

"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of the story prevented her from going on with it.

The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by the young man&amp;#39;s simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.

"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the world!"

"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning.

At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The Italian&amp;#39;s face instantly changed and assumed an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing with women.

"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate," said he.

Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.
The story was very pretty and interesting, especially at the point where the rivals suddenly recognized one another; and the ladies looked agitated.

"Charming!" said Anna Pavlovna with an inquiring glance at the little princess.

"Charming!" whispered the little princess, sticking the needle into her work as if to testify that the interest and fascination of the story prevented her from going on with it.

The vicomte appreciated this silent praise and smiling gratefully prepared to continue, but just then Anna Pavlovna, who had kept a watchful eye on the young man who so alarmed her, noticed that he was talking too loudly and vehemently with the abbe, so she hurried to the rescue. Pierre had managed to start a conversation with the abbe about the balance of power, and the latter, evidently interested by the young man&amp;#39;s simple-minded eagerness, was explaining his pet theory. Both were talking and listening too eagerly and too naturally, which was why Anna Pavlovna disapproved.

"The means are... the balance of power in Europe and the rights of the people," the abbe was saying. "It is only necessary for one powerful nation like Russia- barbaric as she is said to be- to place herself disinterestedly at the head of an alliance having for its object the maintenance of the balance of power of Europe, and it would save the world!"

"But how are you to get that balance?" Pierre was beginning.

At that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, looking severely at Pierre, asked the Italian how he stood Russian climate. The Italian&amp;#39;s face instantly changed and assumed an offensively affected, sugary expression, evidently habitual to him when conversing with women.

"I am so enchanted by the brilliancy of the wit and culture of the society, more especially of the feminine society, in which I have had the honor of being received, that I have not yet had time to think of the climate," said he.

Not letting the abbe and Pierre escape, Anna Pavlovna, the more conveniently to keep them under observation, brought them into the larger circle.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:42
sage
Я ненавижу своего парня из-за того, что он меня ударил! Нет, мне не было физически больно, но сам факт данного действия меня полностью шокировал. Обидно то, что это произошло из-за того, что я на него кричала после того, как он меня несколько раз назвал обидными мне словами. А я ведь даже не заслужила тех оскорблений, которые он мне выписал Это правда Я ненавижу его за этот поступок! И еще Я ненавижу себя за то, что поверила ему и готова была даже связать свою жизнь с этим человеком Ненавижу себя за то, что я работаю в небольшой фирме, которая принадлежит ему, и в связи с этим, уйдя от него, мне придется сменить работу Причем работу необходимо менять очень оперативно, потому как мы живем в съемной квартире вдалеке от родительского дома. Мне нужно будет найти себе жилье Живем в столице, и назад домой я ехать не могу там полная разруха, мне там дискомфортно Вот и остается сидеть и ждать чего-то, потому что нет храбрости и уверенности в себе Такая я трусиха :-(

От редактора: Легкий и удобный шопинг, не выходя из дома, одежда в интернет-магазине мужская. Разнообразие моделей, размеров и расцветок.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:46:58
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess&amp;#39; husband. He was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face, kissed Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned the whole company.

"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna.

"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the last syllable of the general&amp;#39;s name like a Frenchman, "has been pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...."

"And Lise, your wife?"

"She will go to the country."

"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?"

"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!"

Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre&amp;#39;s beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile.

"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to Pierre.

"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his story.
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess&amp;#39; husband. He was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face, kissed Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned the whole company.

"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna.

"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the last syllable of the general&amp;#39;s name like a Frenchman, "has been pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...."

"And Lise, your wife?"

"She will go to the country."

"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?"

"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!"

Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre&amp;#39;s beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile.

"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to Pierre.

"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his story.
Just them another visitor entered the drawing room: Prince Andrew Bolkonski, the little princess&amp;#39; husband. He was a very handsome young man, of medium height, with firm, clearcut features. Everything about him, from his weary, bored expression to his quiet, measured step, offered a most striking contrast to his quiet, little wife. It was evident that he not only knew everyone in the drawing room, but had found them to be so tiresome that it wearied him to look at or listen to them. And among all these faces that he found so tedious, none seemed to bore him so much as that of his pretty wife. He turned away from her with a grimace that distorted his handsome face, kissed Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s hand, and screwing up his eyes scanned the whole company.

"You are off to the war, Prince?" said Anna Pavlovna.

"General Kutuzov," said Bolkonski, speaking French and stressing the last syllable of the general&amp;#39;s name like a Frenchman, "has been pleased to take me as an aide-de-camp...."

"And Lise, your wife?"

"She will go to the country."

"Are you not ashamed to deprive us of your charming wife?"

"Andre," said his wife, addressing her husband in the same coquettish manner in which she spoke to other men, "the vicomte has been telling us such a tale about Mademoiselle George and Buonaparte!"

Prince Andrew screwed up his eyes and turned away. Pierre, who from the moment Prince Andrew entered the room had watched him with glad, affectionate eyes, now came up and took his arm. Before he looked round Prince Andrew frowned again, expressing his annoyance with whoever was touching his arm, but when he saw Pierre&amp;#39;s beaming face he gave him an unexpectedly kind and pleasant smile.

"There now!... So you, too, are in the great world?" said he to Pierre.

"I knew you would be here," replied Pierre. "I will come to supper with you. May I?" he added in a low voice so as not to disturb the vicomte who was continuing his story.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:06
В игры играем, гуляем, сериалы-фильмы-летсплеи смотрим. Если много времени - можем просто валяться на диване часами, оба ленивцы пиздец. Можем просто у окошка сидеть и болтать-болтать-болтать.
Когда далеко - во всякие логические игры играем, типа шахмат или простых, типа балды, виселицы и так далее.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:08
sage
Я ненавижу жену (гражданскую) брата моего парня. И не подумайте что я просто так ее ненавижу. На это есть весьма обоснованные причины. Дело все в том, что я с парнем встречаюсь уже 4 года. Мы планировали свадьбу, жить вместе, и т.д. Но своего жилья у него не было и его родители собирались его ему купить. На тот момент у его брата была вполне законная жена, и жили они у нее на квартире. Потом они поссорились, и развелись, он переехал в родительский дом, а через несколько месяцев сошелся с одной [бабойk. Без слез на нее не взглянешь. Ей тогда было 28 лет, а выглядела на все 38 лет. Это же надо так себя не любить. Но мало того что не красавица и даже не симпатичная, так еще и [тормозk конкретный. Общаться с ней вообще невозможно, говорит только о своих родах (ее дочке 13 лет). Работать не хочет, сидит дома с высшим образованием и знанием французского и английского. Нашла брата моего парня, села ему на шею, ножки свесила и живет припеваючи. Так вот, эта [бабаk не такая уж тупая как оказывается. Забеременела от него, и пришлось родителям парня покупать им дом (до этого они жили на съемной квартире). А я с парнем осталась ни с чем. Теперь его родители сюсюкаются с ребенком и все им только помогают. Ух, как же я ненавижу эту жену брата моего парня!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:14
"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre&amp;#39;s hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.

"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador&amp;#39;s deprives me of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.

"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew.

"Very," said Pierre.

In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre&amp;#39;s hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women."

Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed only anxiety and fear.

"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom. "I can&amp;#39;t remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my poor boy."

Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre&amp;#39;s hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.

"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador&amp;#39;s deprives me of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.

"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew.

"Very," said Pierre.

In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre&amp;#39;s hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women."

Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed only anxiety and fear.

"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom. "I can&amp;#39;t remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my poor boy."

Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre&amp;#39;s hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.

"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador&amp;#39;s deprives me of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.

"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew.

"Very," said Pierre.

In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre&amp;#39;s hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women."

Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed only anxiety and fear.

"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom. "I can&amp;#39;t remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my poor boy."

Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.
"No, impossible!" said Prince Andrew, laughing and pressing Pierre&amp;#39;s hand to show that there was no need to ask the question. He wished to say something more, but at that moment Prince Vasili and his daughter got up to go and the two young men rose to let them pass.

"You must excuse me, dear Vicomte," said Prince Vasili to the Frenchman, holding him down by the sleeve in a friendly way to prevent his rising. "This unfortunate fete at the ambassador&amp;#39;s deprives me of a pleasure, and obliges me to interrupt you. I am very sorry to leave your enchanting party," said he, turning to Anna Pavlovna.

His daughter, Princess Helene, passed between the chairs, lightly holding up the folds of her dress, and the smile shone still more radiantly on her beautiful face. Pierre gazed at her with rapturous, almost frightened, eyes as she passed him.

"Very lovely," said Prince Andrew.

"Very," said Pierre.

In passing Prince Vasili seized Pierre&amp;#39;s hand and said to Anna Pavlovna: "Educate this bear for me! He has been staying with me a whole month and this is the first time I have seen him in society. Nothing is so necessary for a young man as the society of clever women."

Anna Pavlovna smiled and promised to take Pierre in hand. She knew his father to be a connection of Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s. The elderly lady who had been sitting with the old aunt rose hurriedly and overtook Prince Vasili in the anteroom. All the affectation of interest she had assumed had left her kindly and tearworn face and it now expressed only anxiety and fear.

"How about my son Boris, Prince?" said she, hurrying after him into the anteroom. "I can&amp;#39;t remain any longer in Petersburg. Tell me what news I may take back to my poor boy."

Although Prince Vasili listened reluctantly and not very politely to the elderly lady, even betraying some impatience, she gave him an ingratiating and appealing smile, and took his hand that he might not go away.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:21
sage
Я его действительно ненавижу. Прошло уже восемь лет, а легче не становится. Бросил меня беременной, причём с улыбочкой, мимоходом. Просто развернулся и ушёл. Что самое циничное когда нашему мальчику исполнился один год, он появился как ни в чём не бывало. [Это же мой сын, я имею право его видетьk. Естественно, я позволила им общаться, ради ребёнка. Сейчас появляется пару раз в год, каждый визит сопровождается скандалом и дракой. Последний раз выломал нам дверь, ударил ребёнка и ушёл с улыбкой.

Подлец, жестокий и циничный негодяй. Он не хочет оставить нас в покое и жить своей жизнью. Искренне не понимаю почему? Случалось всё: милиция, выяснения отношений. Пробовала пообщаться по-хорошему, ничего не получается. Похоже, ему доставляет удовольствие издеваться над нами. А что особенно меня пугает сын очень похож на него, привычками, внешностью, характером. Такая же несдержанность, временами злость и агрессивность. Часто задаю себе вопрос закончится это когда-нибудь? В ситуации только один положительный момент этот негодяй живёт в другом городе, поэтому встречаемся мы редко. Я его правда ненавижу и сильно жалею, что нас свела судьба в своё время. Хочется сказать ему: [Исчезни, забудь про нас, тебя никто здесь не ждёт, уходи и никогда не возвращайся, если в тебе ещё осталось что-то человеческоеk.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:26
>>52612189
>она у тебя ИЗ НОРМАЛЬНЫХ КОТОРЫЕ ЕСТЬ ИХ МАЛО НО ОНИ ЕСТЬ ВОТ МОЯ ТО ТОЧНО НЕ ТАКАЯ УЖ Я ТО ЗНАЮ, да? А НАМ НЕ ПОНЯТЬ?
приятно иметь дело с умными и догадливыми людьми.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:33
"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she.

"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the best way."

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her former influential connections. She had now come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception and had sat listening to the vicomte&amp;#39;s story. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s arm more tightly.

"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my father&amp;#39;s friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God&amp;#39;s sake to do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," she added hurriedly. "No, don&amp;#39;t be angry, but promise! I have asked Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes.

"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.

Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya&amp;#39;s case he felt, after her second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved him.
"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she.

"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the best way."

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her former influential connections. She had now come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception and had sat listening to the vicomte&amp;#39;s story. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s arm more tightly.

"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my father&amp;#39;s friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God&amp;#39;s sake to do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," she added hurriedly. "No, don&amp;#39;t be angry, but promise! I have asked Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes.

"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.

Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya&amp;#39;s case he felt, after her second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved him.
"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she.

"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the best way."

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her former influential connections. She had now come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception and had sat listening to the vicomte&amp;#39;s story. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s arm more tightly.

"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my father&amp;#39;s friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God&amp;#39;s sake to do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," she added hurriedly. "No, don&amp;#39;t be angry, but promise! I have asked Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes.

"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.

Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya&amp;#39;s case he felt, after her second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved him.
"What would it cost you to say a word to the Emperor, and then he would be transferred to the Guards at once?" said she.

"Believe me, Princess, I am ready to do all I can," answered Prince Vasili, "but it is difficult for me to ask the Emperor. I should advise you to appeal to Rumyantsev through Prince Golitsyn. That would be the best way."

The elderly lady was a Princess Drubetskaya, belonging to one of the best families in Russia, but she was poor, and having long been out of society had lost her former influential connections. She had now come to Petersburg to procure an appointment in the Guards for her only son. It was, in fact, solely to meet Prince Vasili that she had obtained an invitation to Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception and had sat listening to the vicomte&amp;#39;s story. Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s words frightened her, an embittered look clouded her once handsome face, but only for a moment; then she smiled again and dutched Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s arm more tightly.

"Listen to me, Prince," said she. "I have never yet asked you for anything and I never will again, nor have I ever reminded you of my father&amp;#39;s friendship for you; but now I entreat you for God&amp;#39;s sake to do this for my son- and I shall always regard you as a benefactor," she added hurriedly. "No, don&amp;#39;t be angry, but promise! I have asked Golitsyn and he has refused. Be the kindhearted man you always were," she said, trying to smile though tears were in her eyes.

"Papa, we shall be late," said Princess Helene, turning her beautiful head and looking over her classically molded shoulder as she stood waiting by the door.

Influence in society, however, is a capital which has to be economized if it is to last. Prince Vasili knew this, and having once realized that if he asked on behalf of all who begged of him, he would soon be unable to ask for himself, he became chary of using his influence. But in Princess Drubetskaya&amp;#39;s case he felt, after her second appeal, something like qualms of conscience. She had reminded him of what was quite true; he had been indebted to her father for the first steps in his career. Moreover, he could see by her manners that she was one of those women- mostly mothers- who, having once made up their minds, will not rest until they have gained their end, and are prepared if necessary to go on insisting day after day and hour after hour, and even to make scenes. This last consideration moved him.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:51
sage
Я его действительно ненавижу. Прошло уже восемь лет, а легче не становится. Бросил меня беременной, причём с улыбочкой, мимоходом. Просто развернулся и ушёл. Что самое циничное когда нашему мальчику исполнился один год, он появился как ни в чём не бывало. [Это же мой сын, я имею право его видетьk. Естественно, я позволила им общаться, ради ребёнка. Сейчас появляется пару раз в год, каждый визит сопровождается скандалом и дракой. Последний раз выломал нам дверь, ударил ребёнка и ушёл с улыбкой.

Подлец, жестокий и циничный негодяй. Он не хочет оставить нас в покое и жить своей жизнью. Искренне не понимаю почему? Случалось всё: милиция, выяснения отношений. Пробовала пообщаться по-хорошему, ничего не получается. Похоже, ему доставляет удовольствие издеваться над нами. А что особенно меня пугает сын очень похож на него, привычками, внешностью, характером. Такая же несдержанность, временами злость и агрессивность. Часто задаю себе вопрос закончится это когда-нибудь? В ситуации только один положительный момент этот негодяй живёт в другом городе, поэтому встречаемся мы редко. Я его правда ненавижу и сильно жалею, что нас свела судьба в своё время. Хочется сказать ему: [Исчезни, забудь про нас, тебя никто здесь не ждёт, уходи и никогда не возвращайся, если в тебе ещё осталось что-то человеческоеk. 535345

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:47:58
>>52612532
Традиция - агриться на всё подряд.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:07
sage
Нет, ну почему все девушки нормальные, а моя нет? Почему я должен любить ту, которая уже в таком молодом возрасте так научилась выносить мозг? Наверное, потому, что это нельзя описать словами и объяснить здравым смыслом. Да, и это я тоже, черт побери, ненавижу!

Это не девушка это черт в юбке, да еще и улыбается! Еще не было ни одного свидания, когда бы она не опоздала. Даже когда я опоздаю, она все равно опаздывает дольше, чем я. И даже не извиняется: мол [для девушки это нормально!k. Да, но не на два часа!!! Слава Богу нашел способ, как с этим бороться: опаздывает более чем пятнадцать минут иду домой. И знаете, помогло, как ни странно, теперь успевает Но, теперь другими приколами начала выносить мозг.

Не отвечает на мои звонки: мол [не видела и не слышала я, что ты звонил, милый!k. И не перезванивает! И не извиняется! Ну что ты скажешь? Опять прибегать к тактике: не звонить и дождаться, когда она своим миленьким и обиженным голосочком спросит: [а почему ты не звонишь? забыл обо мне?k Ну и что ты скажешь??? Если по телефону еще как ни будь можно перебороть себя и оставаться суровым, то как быть, когда она сядет тебе на руки, посмотрит в глаза и запоет: [миленький, а я соскучилась по тебе!k.

Ненавижу, блин! И люблю одновременно

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:13
"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father&amp;#39;s memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?"

"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your kindness!" He turned to go.

"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..."

Prince Vasili smiled.

"No, I won&amp;#39;t promise that. You don&amp;#39;t know how Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants."

"No, but do promise! I won&amp;#39;t let you go! My dear benefactor..."

"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, "we shall be late."

"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?"

"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?"

"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don&amp;#39;t promise."

"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.

Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was accomplished.
"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father&amp;#39;s memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?"

"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your kindness!" He turned to go.

"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..."

Prince Vasili smiled.

"No, I won&amp;#39;t promise that. You don&amp;#39;t know how Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants."

"No, but do promise! I won&amp;#39;t let you go! My dear benefactor..."

"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, "we shall be late."

"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?"

"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?"

"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don&amp;#39;t promise."

"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.

Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was accomplished.
"My dear Anna Mikhaylovna," said he with his usual familiarity and weariness of tone, "it is almost impossible for me to do what you ask; but to prove my devotion to you and how I respect your father&amp;#39;s memory, I will do the impossible- your son shall be transferred to the Guards. Here is my hand on it. Are you satisfied?"

"My dear benefactor! This is what I expected from you- I knew your kindness!" He turned to go.

"Wait- just a word! When he has been transferred to the Guards..." she faltered. "You are on good terms with Michael Ilarionovich Kutuzov... recommend Boris to him as adjutant! Then I shall be at rest, and then..."

Prince Vasili smiled.

"No, I won&amp;#39;t promise that. You don&amp;#39;t know how Kutuzov is pestered since his appointment as Commander in Chief. He told me himself that all the Moscow ladies have conspired to give him all their sons as adjutants."

"No, but do promise! I won&amp;#39;t let you go! My dear benefactor..."

"Papa," said his beautiful daughter in the same tone as before, "we shall be late."

"Well, au revoir! Good-by! You hear her?"

"Then tomorrow you will speak to the Emperor?"

"Certainly; but about Kutuzov, I don&amp;#39;t promise."

"Do promise, do promise, Vasili!" cried Anna Mikhaylovna as he went, with the smile of a coquettish girl, which at one time probably came naturally to her, but was now very ill-suited to her careworn face.

Apparently she had forgotten her age and by force of habit employed all the old feminine arts. But as soon as the prince had gone her face resumed its former cold, artificial expression. She returned to the group where the vicomte was still talking, and again pretended to listen, while waiting till it would be time to leave. Her task was accomplished.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:21
>>52612547
Двaчyю этого

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:22
sage

Я ненавижу интернет!!!
Я ненавижу пауков!!!
Я ненавижу себя за свою зависть!!!
Принято 30.03.2012 редактором Евгений

Ненавижу завистливых людей. Зависть это страшный грех, за который надо просить прощения у господа. Но наступил такой момент в моей жизни, когда я поняла что завидую. И завидую не безобидной белой завистью, а именно так, что я себя ненавижу! Я живу обычной жизнью человека со средним достатком. У меня есть квартира, муж, ребенок, нормальная работа. Но я не могу позволить себе съездить отдохнуть в отпуске, купить машину или дорогую технику. Не могу отдохнуть на всю катушку и забыться! Причина проста нашей семье не хватает финансов, и почему то никак не получается преодолеть этот нищий барьер! Причем тут зависть?

Да притом, что когда я слышу что друг, знакомый или просто сосед купил иномарку или уехал в отпуск в жаркие страны, во мне просыпается это страшный и омерзительный зверь зависть! Пытаясь заглушить в себе это изъян, я съедаю себя изнутри, но зависть не уходит. Я добрый отзывчивый человек, со стороны и не скажешь, что я так отвратительна! Но, к сожалению, это так.

Могу сказать только нашему дорогому государству: Спасибо! Спасибо за то, что мы нищие и завистливые! Это вы сделали нас таковыми! Но поверьте, хорошо смеется тот, кто смеется последний!

Ну а сейчас, я себя ненавижу! И пусть этот грех останется со мной, но я буду жить и верить, что все еще будет хорошо!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:29
>>52612478
Никакой ярости, просто пока я не уверен в измене и даже не было на то посылов (попросту мы рядом проводим ммаксисум времени + созваниваемся часто). А в случае когда я узнаю на верняка мне не нужно будет выдавливать из себя комканные фразы, я просто уйду буд-то ничего и не было.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:37
>>52612404
> ароч, мы вместе 2 года и стали крепкой ячейкой общест
это пиздец. Нет, правда пиздец.
Тут зомбиштамповочная машина безовсякого прозиума работает.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:39
sage
Ненавижу свою подругу, которая считает себя идеальной. Это так сильно бесит, что хочется выматериться и уйти. Ничего не могу с собой сделать. она неудачница, и когда я плохо выгляжу говорит, что хорошо, только чтоб выглядеть лучше на моём фоне. Это невыносимо. Говорит. что её задолбала мама, потому что задаёт много вопросов. Как же это БЕСИИИТКак можно не любить мааму..это же самый близкий и родной человек. Тем более, что её мама очень умный и светлый человечек. ей так с ней повезло. в последнее время я перестала её понимать. Это ужасно.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:46
"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one&amp;#39;s head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"&amp;#39;Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!&amp;#39;* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "&amp;#39;Dio mi l&amp;#39;ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!&amp;#39;"

*God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d&amp;#39; azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.
"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one&amp;#39;s head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"&amp;#39;Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!&amp;#39;* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "&amp;#39;Dio mi l&amp;#39;ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!&amp;#39;"

*God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d&amp;#39; azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.
"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one&amp;#39;s head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"&amp;#39;Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!&amp;#39;* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "&amp;#39;Dio mi l&amp;#39;ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!&amp;#39;"

*God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d&amp;#39; azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.
"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one&amp;#39;s head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"&amp;#39;Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!&amp;#39;* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "&amp;#39;Dio mi l&amp;#39;ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!&amp;#39;"

*God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d&amp;#39; azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.
"And what do you think of this latest comedy, the coronation at Milan?" asked Anna Pavlovna, "and of the comedy of the people of Genoa and Lucca laying their petitions before Monsieur Buonaparte, and Monsieur Buonaparte sitting on a throne and granting the petitions of the nations? Adorable! It is enough to make one&amp;#39;s head whirl! It is as if the whole world had gone crazy."

Prince Andrew looked Anna Pavlovna straight in the face with a sarcastic smile.

"&amp;#39;Dieu me la donne, gare a qui la touche!&amp;#39;* They say he was very fine when he said that," he remarked, repeating the words in Italian: "&amp;#39;Dio mi l&amp;#39;ha dato. Guai a chi la tocchi!&amp;#39;"

*God has given it to me, let him who touches it beware!

"I hope this will prove the last drop that will make the glass run over," Anna Pavlovna continued. "The sovereigns will not be able to endure this man who is a menace to everything."

"The sovereigns? I do not speak of Russia," said the vicomte, polite but hopeless: "The sovereigns, madame... What have they done for Louis XVII, for the Queen, or for Madame Elizabeth? Nothing!" and he became more animated. "And believe me, they are reaping the reward of their betrayal of the Bourbon cause. The sovereigns! Why, they are sending ambassadors to compliment the usurper."

And sighing disdainfully, he again changed his position.

Prince Hippolyte, who had been gazing at the vicomte for some time through his lorgnette, suddenly turned completely round toward the little princess, and having asked for a needle began tracing the Conde coat of arms on the table. He explained this to her with as much gravity as if she had asked him to do it.

"Baton de gueules, engrele de gueules d&amp;#39; azur- maison Conde," said he.

The princess listened, smiling.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:48:53
>>52612547
Просто у пиздолизов один набор фраз на всех. Предсказуемо.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:13
"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, and then..."

He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under observation, interrupted:

"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, "has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.

"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old regime."

"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to Bonaparte&amp;#39;s side."

"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion.

"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic smile.

It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.

"&amp;#39;I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,&amp;#39;" Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting Napoleon&amp;#39;s words. "&amp;#39;I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.&amp;#39; I do not know how far he was justified in saying so."
"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, and then..."

He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under observation, interrupted:

"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, "has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.

"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old regime."

"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to Bonaparte&amp;#39;s side."

"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion.

"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic smile.

It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.

"&amp;#39;I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,&amp;#39;" Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting Napoleon&amp;#39;s words. "&amp;#39;I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.&amp;#39; I do not know how far he was justified in saying so."
"If Buonaparte remains on the throne of France a year longer," the vicomte continued, with the air of a man who, in a matter with which he is better acquainted than anyone else, does not listen to others but follows the current of his own thoughts, "things will have gone too far. By intrigues, violence, exile, and executions, French society- I mean good French society- will have been forever destroyed, and then..."

He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands. Pierre wished to make a remark, for the conversation interested him, but Anna Pavlovna, who had him under observation, interrupted:

"The Emperor Alexander," said she, with the melancholy which always accompanied any reference of hers to the Imperial family, "has declared that he will leave it to the French people themselves to choose their own form of government; and I believe that once free from the usurper, the whole nation will certainly throw itself into the arms of its rightful king," she concluded, trying to be amiable to the royalist emigrant.

"That is doubtful," said Prince Andrew. "Monsieur le Vicomte quite rightly supposes that matters have already gone too far. I think it will be difficult to return to the old regime."

"From what I have heard," said Pierre, blushing and breaking into the conversation, "almost all the aristocracy has already gone over to Bonaparte&amp;#39;s side."

"It is the Buonapartists who say that," replied the vicomte without looking at Pierre. "At the present time it is difficult to know the real state of French public opinion.

"Bonaparte has said so," remarked Prince Andrew with a sarcastic smile.

It was evident that he did not like the vicomte and was aiming his remarks at him, though without looking at him.

"&amp;#39;I showed them the path to glory, but they did not follow it,&amp;#39;" Prince Andrew continued after a short silence, again quoting Napoleon&amp;#39;s words. "&amp;#39;I opened my antechambers and they crowded in.&amp;#39; I do not know how far he was justified in saying so."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:16
>>52610168
Вместе с тян уже 8-й год, она же мой однозначно лучший друг. Вместе путешествуем, ебашим игорей и аниму, ну и все такое, что делают друзья + то, что делают люди противоположного пола.

Не представляю, как можно опуститься настолько, чтобы встречаться и развивать отношения с человеком, которые неинтересен тебе как, собственно говоря, человек. Любовь, сиськи и прочее - это все временные вещи. Вся суть в дружбе и человеческом интересе друг к другу, ну и общем взгляде на наиболее важные для каждого вещи.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:18
>>52612487
давай встречаться, я буду няшить тебя и каждый день делать массажик.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:32
"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one hero less on earth."

Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte&amp;#39;s epigram, Pierre again broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him.

"The execution of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that deed."

"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper.

"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices.

"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.

The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and continued.

"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man&amp;#39;s life."

"Won&amp;#39;t you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna.

But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.

"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain power."
"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one hero less on earth."

Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte&amp;#39;s epigram, Pierre again broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him.

"The execution of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that deed."

"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper.

"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices.

"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.

The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and continued.

"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man&amp;#39;s life."

"Won&amp;#39;t you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna.

But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.

"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain power."
"Not in the least," replied the vicomte. "After the murder of the duc even the most partial ceased to regard him as a hero. If to some people," he went on, turning to Anna Pavlovna, "he ever was a hero, after the murder of the duc there was one martyr more in heaven and one hero less on earth."

Before Anna Pavlovna and the others had time to smile their appreciation of the vicomte&amp;#39;s epigram, Pierre again broke into the conversation, and though Anna Pavlovna felt sure he would say something inappropriate, she was unable to stop him.

"The execution of the Duc d&amp;#39;Enghien," declared Monsieur Pierre, "was a political necessity, and it seems to me that Napoleon showed greatness of soul by not fearing to take on himself the whole responsibility of that deed."

"Dieu! Mon Dieu!" muttered Anna Pavlovna in a terrified whisper.

"What, Monsieur Pierre... Do you consider that assassination shows greatness of soul?" said the little princess, smiling and drawing her work nearer to her.

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed several voices.

"Capital!" said Prince Hippolyte in English, and began slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.

The vicomte merely shrugged his shoulders. Pierre looked solemnly at his audience over his spectacles and continued.

"I say so," he continued desperately, "because the Bourbons fled from the Revolution leaving the people to anarchy, and Napoleon alone understood the Revolution and quelled it, and so for the general good, he could not stop short for the sake of one man&amp;#39;s life."

"Won&amp;#39;t you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna.

But Pierre continued his speech without heeding her.

"No," cried he, becoming more and more eager, "Napoleon is great because he rose superior to the Revolution, suppressed its abuses, preserved all that was good in it- equality of citizenship and freedom of speech and of the press- and only for that reason did he obtain power."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:35
>>52612593
> на верняка
Значение знаешь?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:37
>>52612478
Мимими, маленький троллчёнок делает свои первые неуверенные шажки.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:41
>>52611002
>Заставлять стирать шмот, гладить его, и еду готовить
С какой это радости тян должна это делать?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:42
sage

Я ненавижу ложь!!!
Я ненавижу хладнокровное отношение к настоящей музыке некоторых людей!!!
Я ненавижу себя за свою несобранность!!!
Принято 27.02.2012 редактором Евгений

Как только заканчивается очередной будничный день, в голове возникает одно огорчение за саму себя. Это все потому что мне, непутевой, многое достается с каким-то подвохом. Да я могу ошибиться, да у меня все может получиться наперекосяк, но это не повод говорить мне что я такая рассеянная! В конце концов, я делаю выводы, что люди меня просто толкают в спину, чтобы хоть как-то шевелилась. Возникает множество недовольств в мою сторону, ну и с последующим появлением внутренней закомплексованности. Ненавижу себя за это. И еще удивляюсь, почему среди ровесников я не могу найти своих людей, приятелей. Даже сделать определенное задание для меня равняется какой-то пытке, потому что спотыкаюсь на любом месте, в результате гул негодований. Пытаться бороться с этим, у меня просто не бывает подходящего расположения духа, а ведь в наше-то время, люди мобильнее, комуникабельней и более приспособлены к жизни. (Правильно, психолог мне в помощь)

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:48
"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have called him a great man," remarked the vicomte.

"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind.

"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... But won&amp;#39;t you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna.

"Rousseau&amp;#39;s Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile.

"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas."

"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected an ironical voice.

"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in full force."

"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it."

Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment of Pierre&amp;#39;s outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre&amp;#39;s sacrilegious words had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator.
"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have called him a great man," remarked the vicomte.

"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind.

"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... But won&amp;#39;t you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna.

"Rousseau&amp;#39;s Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile.

"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas."

"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected an ironical voice.

"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in full force."

"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it."

Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment of Pierre&amp;#39;s outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre&amp;#39;s sacrilegious words had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator.
"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have called him a great man," remarked the vicomte.

"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind.

"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... But won&amp;#39;t you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna.

"Rousseau&amp;#39;s Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile.

"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas."

"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected an ironical voice.

"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in full force."

"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it."

Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment of Pierre&amp;#39;s outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre&amp;#39;s sacrilegious words had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator.
"Yes, if having obtained power, without availing himself of it to commit murder he had restored it to the rightful king, I should have called him a great man," remarked the vicomte.

"He could not do that. The people only gave him power that he might rid them of the Bourbons and because they saw that he was a great man. The Revolution was a grand thing!" continued Monsieur Pierre, betraying by this desperate and provocative proposition his extreme youth and his wish to express all that was in his mind.

"What? Revolution and regicide a grand thing?... Well, after that... But won&amp;#39;t you come to this other table?" repeated Anna Pavlovna.

"Rousseau&amp;#39;s Contrat social," said the vicomte with a tolerant smile.

"I am not speaking of regicide, I am speaking about ideas."

"Yes: ideas of robbery, murder, and regicide," again interjected an ironical voice.

"Those were extremes, no doubt, but they are not what is most important. What is important are the rights of man, emancipation from prejudices, and equality of citizenship, and all these ideas Napoleon has retained in full force."

"Liberty and equality," said the vicomte contemptuously, as if at last deciding seriously to prove to this youth how foolish his words were, "high-sounding words which have long been discredited. Who does not love liberty and equality? Even our Saviour preached liberty and equality. Have people since the Revolution become happier? On the contrary. We wanted liberty, but Buonaparte has destroyed it."

Prince Andrew kept looking with an amused smile from Pierre to the vicomte and from the vicomte to their hostess. In the first moment of Pierre&amp;#39;s outburst Anna Pavlovna, despite her social experience, was horror-struck. But when she saw that Pierre&amp;#39;s sacrilegious words had not exasperated the vicomte, and had convinced herself that it was impossible to stop him, she rallied her forces and joined the vicomte in a vigorous attack on the orator.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:49:54
>>52612600
25, любимое число, бро!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:02
>>52610168
Лампово смотрим кинцо, слушаем музыку, летом играем в хардбол, просто гуляем, обожаем иногда, весьма редко, дудку-на-двоих.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:04
sage
Она мне ни когда не звонит, это постоянно делала я, бывало такое, что я ей звоню, чем-то делюсь , а она меня даже не слушает, гулять она со мной перестала по неизвестной причине, когда я спросила в чем дело, она отморозилась, мол занята, хотя позже узнала, что гуляет она без меня. Не знаю, что со мной не так, много раз на нее обижалась из-за того, что она меня унижала, и постоянно прощала, закрывала глаза на это. Сейчас я ей перестала звонить, мы с ней не общаемся уже неделю. Что мне дальше делать? Кроме нее у меня нет друзей.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:05
"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?"

"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great man!"

"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.

"He&amp;#39;s a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte.

Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to ask forgiveness.

The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. All were silent.

"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it seems to me."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of this reinforcement.

"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is difficult to justify."

Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness of Pierre&amp;#39;s remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.

Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated began:
"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?"

"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great man!"

"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.

"He&amp;#39;s a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte.

Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to ask forgiveness.

The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. All were silent.

"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it seems to me."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of this reinforcement.

"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is difficult to justify."

Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness of Pierre&amp;#39;s remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.

Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated began:
"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?"

"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great man!"

"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.

"He&amp;#39;s a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte.

Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to ask forgiveness.

The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. All were silent.

"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it seems to me."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of this reinforcement.

"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is difficult to justify."

Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness of Pierre&amp;#39;s remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.

Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated began:
"But, my dear Monsieur Pierre," said she, "how do you explain the fact of a great man executing a duc- or even an ordinary man who- is innocent and untried?"

"I should like," said the vicomte, "to ask how monsieur explains the 18th Brumaire; was not that an imposture? It was a swindle, and not at all like the conduct of a great man!"

"And the prisoners he killed in Africa? That was horrible!" said the little princess, shrugging her shoulders.

"He&amp;#39;s a low fellow, say what you will," remarked Prince Hippolyte.

Pierre, not knowing whom to answer, looked at them all and smiled. His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people. When he smiled, his grave, even rather gloomy, look was instantaneously replaced by another- a childlike, kindly, even rather silly look, which seemed to ask forgiveness.

The vicomte who was meeting him for the first time saw clearly that this young Jacobin was not so terrible as his words suggested. All were silent.

"How do you expect him to answer you all at once?" said Prince Andrew. "Besides, in the actions of a statesman one has to distinguish between his acts as a private person, as a general, and as an emperor. So it seems to me."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Pierre chimed in, pleased at the arrival of this reinforcement.

"One must admit," continued Prince Andrew, "that Napoleon as a man was great on the bridge of Arcola, and in the hospital at Jaffa where he gave his hand to the plague-stricken; but... but there are other acts which it is difficult to justify."

Prince Andrew, who had evidently wished to tone down the awkwardness of Pierre&amp;#39;s remarks, rose and made a sign to his wife that it was time to go.

Suddenly Prince Hippolyte started up making signs to everyone to attend, and asking them all to be seated began:

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:29
>>52612450
А теперь это сайт для социоблядков успешных?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:42
>>52612615
> и аниму
> аниму
> аниму

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:45
sage
Она мне ни когда не звонит, это постоянно делала я, бывало такое, что я ей звоню, чем-то делюсь , а она меня даже не слушает, гулять она со мной перестала по неизвестной причине, когда я спросила в чем дело, она отморозилась, мол занята, хотя позже узнала, что гуляет она без меня. Не знаю, что со мной не так, много раз на нее обижалась из-за того, что она меня унижала, и постоянно прощала, закрывала глаза на это. Сейчас я ей перестала звонить, мы с ней не общаемся уже неделю. Что мне дальше делать? Кроме нее у меня нет друзей0000.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:50:56
>>52612615
"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their attention to his story.

"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a lady&amp;#39;s maid, also big. She said..."

Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with difficulty.

"She said... Oh yes! She said, &amp;#39;Girl,&amp;#39; to the maid, &amp;#39;put on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some calls.&amp;#39;"

Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however smile.

"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world knew...."

And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte&amp;#39;s social tact in so agreeably ending Pierre&amp;#39;s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, and when and where.
"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their attention to his story.

"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a lady&amp;#39;s maid, also big. She said..."

Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with difficulty.

"She said... Oh yes! She said, &amp;#39;Girl,&amp;#39; to the maid, &amp;#39;put on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some calls.&amp;#39;"

Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however smile.

"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world knew...."

And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte&amp;#39;s social tact in so agreeably ending Pierre&amp;#39;s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, and when and where.
"I was told a charming Moscow story today and must treat you to it. Excuse me, Vicomte- I must tell it in Russian or the point will be lost...." And Prince Hippolyte began to tell his story in such Russian as a Frenchman would speak after spending about a year in Russia. Everyone waited, so emphatically and eagerly did he demand their attention to his story.

"There is in Moscow a lady, une dame, and she is very stingy. She must have two footmen behind her carriage, and very big ones. That was her taste. And she had a lady&amp;#39;s maid, also big. She said..."

Here Prince Hippolyte paused, evidently collecting his ideas with difficulty.

"She said... Oh yes! She said, &amp;#39;Girl,&amp;#39; to the maid, &amp;#39;put on a livery, get up behind the carriage, and come with me while I make some calls.&amp;#39;"

Here Prince Hippolyte spluttered and burst out laughing long before his audience, which produced an effect unfavorable to the narrator. Several persons, among them the elderly lady and Anna Pavlovna, did however smile.

"She went. Suddenly there was a great wind. The girl lost her hat and her long hair came down...." Here he could contain himself no longer and went on, between gasps of laughter: "And the whole world knew...."

And so the anecdote ended. Though it was unintelligible why he had told it, or why it had to be told in Russian, still Anna Pavlovna and the others appreciated Prince Hippolyte&amp;#39;s social tact in so agreeably ending Pierre&amp;#39;s unpleasant and unamiable outburst. After the anecdote the conversation broke up into insignificant small talk about the last and next balls, about theatricals, and who would meet whom, and when and where.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:03
>>52612650
Личинка не моя, это ее племянник.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:06
sage
Ненавижу тех, кто приходит в тему для мотивации и выпрашивает [волшебных пинковk. Люди собираются в группы/темы для того, чтобы подбадривать и хвалить друг друга. Но некоторые одаренные считают себя выше этого! У них же нет времени, они могут написать только [вы все такие молодцы!k, но для себя ждут поименного обращения, конкретных советов и одобрения! И еще смеют обижаться, когда подобных филонщиков начинают игнорировать!

Остальные, видимо, все с машинами времени! Всегда находят время прочесывать комментарии, хвалить по мелочам новичков, подбивать на более глобальные цели тех, кто дальше продвинулся. Они ничем не заняты! Им видимо деньги платят за взаимопомощь и поддержку!
Откуда только берутся такие люди, считающие что им все должны, а они окружающим ничем не обязаны?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:06
>>52612631
Ты по теме продолжай, а свои граммар-наци замашки, для своей мамки оставь.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:22
>>52612615
Two footmen, the princess&amp;#39; and his own, stood holding a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh.

"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador&amp;#39;s," said Prince Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? Delightful!"

"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be there."

"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long time, as though embracing her.

Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.

"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her.

Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into the carriage.

"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as well as with his feet.

The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone&amp;#39;s way.

"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path.

"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and affectionately.
Two footmen, the princess&amp;#39; and his own, stood holding a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh.

"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador&amp;#39;s," said Prince Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? Delightful!"

"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be there."

"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long time, as though embracing her.

Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.

"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her.

Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into the carriage.

"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as well as with his feet.

The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone&amp;#39;s way.

"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path.

"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and affectionately.
Two footmen, the princess&amp;#39; and his own, stood holding a shawl and a cloak, waiting for the conversation to finish. They listened to the French sentences which to them were meaningless, with an air of understanding but not wishing to appear to do so. The princess as usual spoke smilingly and listened with a laugh.

"I am very glad I did not go to the ambassador&amp;#39;s," said Prince Hippolyte "-so dull-. It has been a delightful evening, has it not? Delightful!"

"They say the ball will be very good," replied the princess, drawing up her downy little lip. "All the pretty women in society will be there."

"Not all, for you will not be there; not all," said Prince Hippolyte smiling joyfully; and snatching the shawl from the footman, whom he even pushed aside, he began wrapping it round the princess. Either from awkwardness or intentionally (no one could have said which) after the shawl had been adjusted he kept his arm around her for a long time, as though embracing her.

Still smiling, she gracefully moved away, turning and glancing at her husband. Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s eyes were closed, so weary and sleepy did he seem.

"Are you ready?" he asked his wife, looking past her.

Prince Hippolyte hurriedly put on his cloak, which in the latest fashion reached to his very heels, and, stumbling in it, ran out into the porch following the princess, whom a footman was helping into the carriage.

"Princesse, au revoir," cried he, stumbling with his tongue as well as with his feet.

The princess, picking up her dress, was taking her seat in the dark carriage, her husband was adjusting his saber; Prince Hippolyte, under pretense of helping, was in everyone&amp;#39;s way.

"Allow me, sir," said Prince Andrew in Russian in a cold, disagreeable tone to Prince Hippolyte who was blocking his path.

"I am expecting you, Pierre," said the same voice, but gently and affectionately.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:27
>>52612635
Съеби, шлюха.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:28
>>52612631
А шот.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:36
sage

Я ненавижу обстоятельства, в которых появляется ненависть!!!
Я ненавижу [тыкающихk!!!
Я ненавижу человечество!!!
Принято 26.04.2013 редактором Евгений
Добавил(а): Аноним

Я ненавижу людей за их тупую похоть без любви. За людской материализм и самомнение. Люди постоянно пытаются тебе что-то навязать, начиная с религии, ценностей, политических взглядов, кончая маркой презерватива. Люди постоянно считают себя праведно правыми и выше тебя. Они постоянно поучают других, считая себя мессией. Люди это тупое стадо баранов, водимое за нос то Гитлером, то Лениным, то Сталиным и т. д.
Люди никогда не поймут того, что с ними не приключалось. Стоит прийти к психологу и объявить, что ты лежала в психушке и не хочешь туда попадать снова, как начнется самомнение психолога говорящего:
- А что это за детское нежелание такое?
Люди это тупая скотина, и я жалею, что родилась среди них. Люди ничем не отличаются от животных, их предок это горный тупорылый баран. Люди очень тупые и не потерпят того, чтобы кто-то кроме них был счастлив

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:40
>>52612631
ПИТ БУЛЬ в треде.
я спокоен.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:51:40
>>52612615
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar&amp;#39;s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can&amp;#39;t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar&amp;#39;s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can&amp;#39;t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar&amp;#39;s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can&amp;#39;t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar&amp;#39;s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can&amp;#39;t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.
The postilion started, the carriage wheels rattled. Prince Hippolyte laughed spasmodically as he stood in the porch waiting for the vicomte whom he had promised to take home.

"Well, mon cher," said the vicomte, having seated himself beside Hippolyte in the carriage, "your little princess is very nice, very nice indeed, quite French," and he kissed the tips of his fingers. Hippolyte burst out laughing.

"Do you know, you are a terrible chap for all your innocent airs," continued the vicomte. "I pity the poor husband, that little officer who gives himself the airs of a monarch."

Hippolyte spluttered again, and amid his laughter said, "And you were saying that the Russian ladies are not equal to the French? One has to know how to deal with them."

Pierre reaching the house first went into Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s study like one quite at home, and from habit immediately lay down on the sofa, took from the shelf the first book that came to his hand (it was Caesar&amp;#39;s Commentaries), and resting on his elbow, began reading it in the middle.

"What have you done to Mlle Scherer? She will be quite ill now," said Prince Andrew, as he entered the study, rubbing his small white hands.

Pierre turned his whole body, making the sofa creak. He lifted his eager face to Prince Andrew, smiled, and waved his hand.

"That abbe is very interesting but he does not see the thing in the right light.... In my opinion perpetual peace is possible but- I do not know how to express it... not by a balance of political power...."

It was evident that Prince Andrew was not interested in such abstract conversation.

"One can&amp;#39;t everywhere say all one thinks, mon cher. Well, have you at last decided on anything? Are you going to be a guardsman or a diplomatist?" asked Prince Andrew after a momentary silence.

Pierre sat up on the sofa, with his legs tucked under him.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:52:03
>>52612635
Сельдью завоняло.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:52:07
sage

Я ненавижу обстоятельства, в которых появляется ненависть!!!
Я ненавижу [тыкающихk!!!
Я ненавижу человечество!!!
Принято 26.04.2013 редактором Евгений
Добавил(а): Аноним

Я ненавижу людей за их тупую похоть без любви. За людской материализм и самомнение. Люди постоянно пытаются тебе что-то навязать, начиная с религии, ценностей, политических взглядов, кончая маркой презерватива. Люди постоянно считают себя праведно правыми и выше тебя. Они постоянно поучают других, считая себя мессией. Люди это тупое стадо баранов, водимое за нос то Гитлером, то Лениным, то Сталиным и т. д.
Люди никогда не поймут того, что с ними не приключалось. Стоит прийти к психологу и объявить, что ты лежала в психушке и не хочешь туда попадать снова, как начнется самомнение психолога говорящего:
- А что это за детское нежелание такое?
Люди это тупая скотина, и я жалею, что родилась среди них. Люди ничем не отличаются от животных, их предок это горный тупорылый баран. Люди очень тупые и не потерпят того, чтобы кто-то кроме них был счастлив0000

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:52:14
>>52612650
"Really, I don&amp;#39;t yet know. I don&amp;#39;t like either the one or the other."

"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it."

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he had met that evening.

"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?"

"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right."

Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre&amp;#39;s childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.

"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.

"And that would be splendid," said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically.

"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..."
"Really, I don&amp;#39;t yet know. I don&amp;#39;t like either the one or the other."

"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it."

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he had met that evening.

"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?"

"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right."

Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre&amp;#39;s childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.

"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.

"And that would be splendid," said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically.

"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..."
"Really, I don&amp;#39;t yet know. I don&amp;#39;t like either the one or the other."

"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it."

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he had met that evening.

"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?"

"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right."

Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre&amp;#39;s childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.

"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.

"And that would be splendid," said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically.

"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..."
"Really, I don&amp;#39;t yet know. I don&amp;#39;t like either the one or the other."

"But you must decide on something! Your father expects it."

Pierre at the age of ten had been sent abroad with an abbe as tutor, and had remained away till he was twenty. When he returned to Moscow his father dismissed the abbe and said to the young man, "Now go to Petersburg, look round, and choose your profession. I will agree to anything. Here is a letter to Prince Vasili, and here is money. Write to me all about it, and I will help you in everything." Pierre had already been choosing a career for three months, and had not decided on anything. It was about this choice that Prince Andrew was speaking. Pierre rubbed his forehead.

"But he must be a Freemason," said he, referring to the abbe whom he had met that evening.

"That is all nonsense." Prince Andrew again interrupted him, "let us talk business. Have you been to the Horse Guards?"

"No, I have not; but this is what I have been thinking and wanted to tell you. There is a war now against Napoleon. If it were a war for freedom I could understand it and should be the first to enter the army; but to help England and Austria against the greatest man in the world is not right."

Prince Andrew only shrugged his shoulders at Pierre&amp;#39;s childish words. He put on the air of one who finds it impossible to reply to such nonsense, but it would in fact have been difficult to give any other answer than the one Prince Andrew gave to this naive question.

"If no one fought except on his own conviction, there would be no wars," he said.

"And that would be splendid," said Pierre.

Prince Andrew smiled ironically.

"Very likely it would be splendid, but it will never come about..."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:52:22
>>52612701
Ты такой остроумный!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:52:37
>>52612650
The rustle of a woman&amp;#39;s dress was heard in the next room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose and politely placed a chair for her.

"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!"

"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can&amp;#39;t understand why he wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse with young women.

The princess started. Evidently Pierre&amp;#39;s words touched her to the quick.

"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don&amp;#39;t understand it; I don&amp;#39;t in the least understand why men can&amp;#39;t live without wars. How is it that we women don&amp;#39;t want anything of the kind, don&amp;#39;t need it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle&amp;#39;s aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the Apraksins&amp;#39; I heard a lady asking, &amp;#39;Is that the famous Prince Andrew?&amp;#39; I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?"

Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the conversation, gave no reply.

"When are you starting?" he asked.
The rustle of a woman&amp;#39;s dress was heard in the next room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose and politely placed a chair for her.

"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!"

"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can&amp;#39;t understand why he wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse with young women.

The princess started. Evidently Pierre&amp;#39;s words touched her to the quick.

"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don&amp;#39;t understand it; I don&amp;#39;t in the least understand why men can&amp;#39;t live without wars. How is it that we women don&amp;#39;t want anything of the kind, don&amp;#39;t need it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle&amp;#39;s aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the Apraksins&amp;#39; I heard a lady asking, &amp;#39;Is that the famous Prince Andrew?&amp;#39; I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?"

Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the conversation, gave no reply.

"When are you starting?" he asked.
The rustle of a woman&amp;#39;s dress was heard in the next room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose and politely placed a chair for her.

"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!"

"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can&amp;#39;t understand why he wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse with young women.

The princess started. Evidently Pierre&amp;#39;s words touched her to the quick.

"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don&amp;#39;t understand it; I don&amp;#39;t in the least understand why men can&amp;#39;t live without wars. How is it that we women don&amp;#39;t want anything of the kind, don&amp;#39;t need it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle&amp;#39;s aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the Apraksins&amp;#39; I heard a lady asking, &amp;#39;Is that the famous Prince Andrew?&amp;#39; I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?"

Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the conversation, gave no reply.

"When are you starting?" he asked.
The rustle of a woman&amp;#39;s dress was heard in the next room. Prince Andrew shook himself as if waking up, and his face assumed the look it had had in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s drawing room. Pierre removed his feet from the sofa. The princess came in. She had changed her gown for a house dress as fresh and elegant as the other. Prince Andrew rose and politely placed a chair for her.

"How is it," she began, as usual in French, settling down briskly and fussily in the easy chair, "how is it Annette never got married? How stupid you men all are not to have married her! Excuse me for saying so, but you have no sense about women. What an argumentative fellow you are, Monsieur Pierre!"

"And I am still arguing with your husband. I can&amp;#39;t understand why he wants to go to the war," replied Pierre, addressing the princess with none of the embarrassment so commonly shown by young men in their intercourse with young women.

The princess started. Evidently Pierre&amp;#39;s words touched her to the quick.

"Ah, that is just what I tell him!" said she. "I don&amp;#39;t understand it; I don&amp;#39;t in the least understand why men can&amp;#39;t live without wars. How is it that we women don&amp;#39;t want anything of the kind, don&amp;#39;t need it? Now you shall judge between us. I always tell him: Here he is Uncle&amp;#39;s aide-de-camp, a most brilliant position. He is so well known, so much appreciated by everyone. The other day at the Apraksins&amp;#39; I heard a lady asking, &amp;#39;Is that the famous Prince Andrew?&amp;#39; I did indeed." She laughed. "He is so well received everywhere. He might easily become aide-de-camp to the Emperor. You know the Emperor spoke to him most graciously. Annette and I were speaking of how to arrange it. What do you think?"

Pierre looked at his friend and, noticing that he did not like the conversation, gave no reply.

"When are you starting?" he asked.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:04
>>52612315
фелософствовать может любой быдлан, истины все равно никто не сможет придти, так что похуй

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:06
>>52612701
Бугурт неграмотного быдла.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:06
>>52612650
"Oh, don&amp;#39;t speak of his going, don&amp;#39;t! I won&amp;#39;t hear it spoken of," said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. "Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked significantly at her husband) "I&amp;#39;m afraid, I&amp;#39;m afraid!" she whispered, and a shudder ran down her back.

Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.

"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don&amp;#39;t understand," said he.

"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up alone in the country."

"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently.

"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to be afraid."

Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of the matter lay in that.

"I still can&amp;#39;t understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.

The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair.

"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..."

"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. "You had better go."

The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about the room.
"Oh, don&amp;#39;t speak of his going, don&amp;#39;t! I won&amp;#39;t hear it spoken of," said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. "Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked significantly at her husband) "I&amp;#39;m afraid, I&amp;#39;m afraid!" she whispered, and a shudder ran down her back.

Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.

"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don&amp;#39;t understand," said he.

"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up alone in the country."

"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently.

"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to be afraid."

Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of the matter lay in that.

"I still can&amp;#39;t understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.

The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair.

"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..."

"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. "You had better go."

The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about the room.
"Oh, don&amp;#39;t speak of his going, don&amp;#39;t! I won&amp;#39;t hear it spoken of," said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. "Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked significantly at her husband) "I&amp;#39;m afraid, I&amp;#39;m afraid!" she whispered, and a shudder ran down her back.

Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.

"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don&amp;#39;t understand," said he.

"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up alone in the country."

"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently.

"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to be afraid."

Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of the matter lay in that.

"I still can&amp;#39;t understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.

The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair.

"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..."

"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. "You had better go."

The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about the room.
"Oh, don&amp;#39;t speak of his going, don&amp;#39;t! I won&amp;#39;t hear it spoken of," said the princess in the same petulantly playful tone in which she had spoken to Hippolyte in the drawing room and which was so plainly ill-suited to the family circle of which Pierre was almost a member. "Today when I remembered that all these delightful associations must be broken off... and then you know, Andre..." (she looked significantly at her husband) "I&amp;#39;m afraid, I&amp;#39;m afraid!" she whispered, and a shudder ran down her back.

Her husband looked at her as if surprised to notice that someone besides Pierre and himself was in the room, and addressed her in a tone of frigid politeness.

"What is it you are afraid of, Lise? I don&amp;#39;t understand," said he.

"There, what egotists men all are: all, all egotists! Just for a whim of his own, goodness only knows why, he leaves me and locks me up alone in the country."

"With my father and sister, remember," said Prince Andrew gently.

"Alone all the same, without my friends.... And he expects me not to be afraid."

Her tone was now querulous and her lip drawn up, giving her not a joyful, but an animal, squirrel-like expression. She paused as if she felt it indecorous to speak of her pregnancy before Pierre, though the gist of the matter lay in that.

"I still can&amp;#39;t understand what you are afraid of," said Prince Andrew slowly, not taking his eyes off his wife.

The princess blushed, and raised her arms with a gesture of despair.

"No, Andrew, I must say you have changed. Oh, how you have..."

"Your doctor tells you to go to bed earlier," said Prince Andrew. "You had better go."

The princess said nothing, but suddenly her short downy lip quivered. Prince Andrew rose, shrugged his shoulders, and walked about the room.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:16
>>52612668
>А теперь это сайт для социоблядков успешных?
йеп.
или ты тут полчаса?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:17
sage
Я ненавижу человека, который живет рядом со мной Ненавижу его До боли ненавижу!!! Что я делаю рядом с ним? Почему продолжаю жить? Не знаю Живу и все Ненавижу и себя за то, что много раз пыталась выкинуть его из своей жизни, но не получилось. Каждый вечер мне хочется, чтоб он не приходил домой Устала я бороться Я НЕНАВИЖУ ЕГО!!!! Хочу жить спокойно, а спокойно это без него!!! Мне плевать, где он и с кем, мне вообще пофиг, что происходит в его жизни Гораздо важнее, что когда он уходит, мне становится гораздо легче

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:18
>>52612755
Я то да, а ты исчерпал себя

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:21
>>52612668
>Психиатр или клинический психолог?
Да. А ты что, тут недавно?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:25
>>52612431
Ох лол! А ты смирился ? Спасибо, мне подобное не подходит.
Лучше ярко вспыхнуть в пламени напалма,сгореть и не оставить после себя пепла, чем тускло тлеть

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:35
>>52612790
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind.

"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the war and have no pity for me. Why is it?"

"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself regret her words. But she went on hurriedly:

"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you behave like that six months ago?"

"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more emphatically.

Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself.

"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An outsider is out of place here... No, don&amp;#39;t distress yourself... Good-by!"

Prince Andrew caught him by the hand.

"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of the pleasure of spending the evening with you."

"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without restraining her angry tears.

"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch which indicates that patience is exhausted.

Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess&amp;#39; pretty face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful eyes glanced askance at her husband&amp;#39;s face, and her own assumed the timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags its drooping tail.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind.

"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the war and have no pity for me. Why is it?"

"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself regret her words. But she went on hurriedly:

"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you behave like that six months ago?"

"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more emphatically.

Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself.

"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An outsider is out of place here... No, don&amp;#39;t distress yourself... Good-by!"

Prince Andrew caught him by the hand.

"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of the pleasure of spending the evening with you."

"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without restraining her angry tears.

"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch which indicates that patience is exhausted.

Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess&amp;#39; pretty face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful eyes glanced askance at her husband&amp;#39;s face, and her own assumed the timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags its drooping tail.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind.

"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the war and have no pity for me. Why is it?"

"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself regret her words. But she went on hurriedly:

"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you behave like that six months ago?"

"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more emphatically.

Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself.

"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An outsider is out of place here... No, don&amp;#39;t distress yourself... Good-by!"

Prince Andrew caught him by the hand.

"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of the pleasure of spending the evening with you."

"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without restraining her angry tears.

"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch which indicates that patience is exhausted.

Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess&amp;#39; pretty face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful eyes glanced askance at her husband&amp;#39;s face, and her own assumed the timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags its drooping tail.
Pierre looked over his spectacles with naive surprise, now at him and now at her, moved as if about to rise too, but changed his mind.

"Why should I mind Monsieur Pierre being here?" exclaimed the little princess suddenly, her pretty face all at once distorted by a tearful grimace. "I have long wanted to ask you, Andrew, why you have changed so to me? What have I done to you? You are going to the war and have no pity for me. Why is it?"

"Lise!" was all Prince Andrew said. But that one word expressed an entreaty, a threat, and above all conviction that she would herself regret her words. But she went on hurriedly:

"You treat me like an invalid or a child. I see it all! Did you behave like that six months ago?"

"Lise, I beg you to desist," said Prince Andrew still more emphatically.

Pierre, who had been growing more and more agitated as he listened to all this, rose and approached the princess. He seemed unable to bear the sight of tears and was ready to cry himself.

"Calm yourself, Princess! It seems so to you because... I assure you I myself have experienced... and so... because... No, excuse me! An outsider is out of place here... No, don&amp;#39;t distress yourself... Good-by!"

Prince Andrew caught him by the hand.

"No, wait, Pierre! The princess is too kind to wish to deprive me of the pleasure of spending the evening with you."

"No, he thinks only of himself," muttered the princess without restraining her angry tears.

"Lise!" said Prince Andrew dryly, raising his voice to the pitch which indicates that patience is exhausted.

Suddenly the angry, squirrel-like expression of the princess&amp;#39; pretty face changed into a winning and piteous look of fear. Her beautiful eyes glanced askance at her husband&amp;#39;s face, and her own assumed the timid, deprecating expression of a dog when it rapidly but feebly wags its drooping tail.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:38
>>52612785
На мысли жокира подписался уже, феласав?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:43
>>52612600
>это пиздец. Нет, правда пиздец.
Тут зомбиштамповочная машина безовсякого прозиума работае
согласен, но она пиздец деятельная. Не может и дня спокойно на стуле посидеть. Постоянно чего то добивается. Квартиру/машину сама купила. Ща планы на детей и дачу строит. И я уверен, что она добьется своего. А я хз. Я лентяй с потенциалом. Благодаря ей я в перманентном заебе, но иду к успеху. Хе-Хей!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:44
>>52612744
> И?
СъебИ

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:48
sage
Actually, something very different took place. Note that when Moses composed his song of victory after Pharaoh and the Egyptians were destroyed by the waters of the Red Sea, Moses said: "They sank into the bottom as a stone" (Exodus 15:5). Again. "They sank as lead in the mighty waters" (verse 10). These two verses seem to show that Pharaoh&amp;#39;s army was on top of the waters. How could they sink as stone and lead if they were already on the sea bed? Besides that, Moses said that the Egyptians "were cast into the sea" (verse 4) as if they were on some kind of a bridge and hurled overboard into the waters.

A bridge? Now don&amp;#39;t throw this book away and say this is the opinion of some "kook" who must be as batty as a barn owl. If you will slow down and read the text for what it actually states you will be amazed how clear the whole thing becomes (though one should read the evidence two or three times to get a proper re-thinking on this matter).

That&amp;#39;s right, the Israelites went across the Red Sea on a bridge -- a natural bridge that God had created out of the water -- composed of ocean water at the northern end of the Gulf of Suez. The water was turned into something. The Israelites actually crossed the Red Sea on a type of bridge which was floating on the surface of the Red Sea. That&amp;#39;s right, it was a bridge constructed from ocean water. There are several clues that Moses gives which allow us to understand the matter.

Moses said something happened to the waters when God began to "blow a wind with his nostrils." With the blast of thy nostrils the waters were gathered together (verse 8 -- that is, the wind caused the waters to begin to pile up and they became compressed). Now look also at the last part of verse 8. As a result of the "gathering together" (or, "piling up" of the waters), the text goes on to relate that "the floods stood upright LIKE AN HEAP [like a single HEAP of stone -- not like two heaps (or walls) of water on each side]." Psalm 33:6,8 uses similar language. It says that God with the breath of his mouth gathers the ocean waters in a heap and that he places those heaped up waters into places for storage. What? Can God place waters which look like a heap of stones into some storehouses of the deep? He not only can, he does! Read the next verse of Moses&amp;#39; song (verse 7). Moses said "The floods stood upright LIKE AN HEAP, and the depths WERE CONGEALED in the heart of the

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:53:56
>>52612790
The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his forehead with his small hand.

"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door.

They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak out.

"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That&amp;#39;s my advice: never marry till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don&amp;#39;t look at me with such surprise. If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with a court lackey and an idiot!... But what&amp;#39;s the good?..." and he waved his arm.

Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at his friend in amazement.

"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of those rare women with whom a man&amp;#39;s honor is safe; but, O God, what would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one to whom I mention this, because I like you."
The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his forehead with his small hand.

"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door.

They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak out.

"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That&amp;#39;s my advice: never marry till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don&amp;#39;t look at me with such surprise. If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with a court lackey and an idiot!... But what&amp;#39;s the good?..." and he waved his arm.

Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at his friend in amazement.

"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of those rare women with whom a man&amp;#39;s honor is safe; but, O God, what would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one to whom I mention this, because I like you."
The friends were silent. Neither cared to begin talking. Pierre continually glanced at Prince Andrew; Prince Andrew rubbed his forehead with his small hand.

"Let us go and have supper," he said with a sigh, going to the door.

They entered the elegant, newly decorated, and luxurious dining room. Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the newly married. Halfway through supper Prince Andrew leaned his elbows on the table and, with a look of nervous agitation such as Pierre had never before seen on his face, began to talk- as one who has long had something on his mind and suddenly determines to speak out.

"Never, never marry, my dear fellow! That&amp;#39;s my advice: never marry till you can say to yourself that you have done all you are capable of, and until you have ceased to love the woman of your choice and have seen her plainly as she is, or else you will make a cruel and irrevocable mistake. Marry when you are old and good for nothing- or all that is good and noble in you will be lost. It will all be wasted on trifles. Yes! Yes! Yes! Don&amp;#39;t look at me with such surprise. If you marry expecting anything from yourself in the future, you will feel at every step that for you all is ended, all is closed except the drawing room, where you will be ranged side by side with a court lackey and an idiot!... But what&amp;#39;s the good?..." and he waved his arm.

Pierre took off his spectacles, which made his face seem different and the good-natured expression still more apparent, and gazed at his friend in amazement.

"My wife," continued Prince Andrew, "is an excellent woman, one of those rare women with whom a man&amp;#39;s honor is safe; but, O God, what would I not give now to be unmarried! You are the first and only one to whom I mention this, because I like you."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:54:26
>>52612803
As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s easy chairs and with half-closed eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of almost morbid irritation.

"You don&amp;#39;t understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s they listen to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial in everything- that&amp;#39;s what women are when you see them in their true colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were something in them, but there&amp;#39;s nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don&amp;#39;t marry, my dear fellow; don&amp;#39;t marry!" concluded Prince Andrew.

"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have everything before you, everything. And you..."

He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future.
As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s easy chairs and with half-closed eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of almost morbid irritation.

"You don&amp;#39;t understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s they listen to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial in everything- that&amp;#39;s what women are when you see them in their true colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were something in them, but there&amp;#39;s nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don&amp;#39;t marry, my dear fellow; don&amp;#39;t marry!" concluded Prince Andrew.

"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have everything before you, everything. And you..."

He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future.
As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s easy chairs and with half-closed eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of almost morbid irritation.

"You don&amp;#39;t understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s they listen to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial in everything- that&amp;#39;s what women are when you see them in their true colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were something in them, but there&amp;#39;s nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don&amp;#39;t marry, my dear fellow; don&amp;#39;t marry!" concluded Prince Andrew.

"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have everything before you, everything. And you..."

He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future.
As he said this Prince Andrew was less than ever like that Bolkonski who had lolled in Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s easy chairs and with half-closed eyes had uttered French phrases between his teeth. Every muscle of his thin face was now quivering with nervous excitement; his eyes, in which the fire of life had seemed extinguished, now flashed with brilliant light. It was evident that the more lifeless he seemed at ordinary times, the more impassioned he became in these moments of almost morbid irritation.

"You don&amp;#39;t understand why I say this," he continued, "but it is the whole story of life. You talk of Bonaparte and his career," said he (though Pierre had not mentioned Bonaparte), "but Bonaparte when he worked went step by step toward his goal. He was free, he had nothing but his aim to consider, and he reached it. But tie yourself up with a woman and, like a chained convict, you lose all freedom! And all you have of hope and strength merely weighs you down and torments you with regret. Drawing rooms, gossip, balls, vanity, and triviality- these are the enchanted circle I cannot escape from. I am now going to the war, the greatest war there ever was, and I know nothing and am fit for nothing. I am very amiable and have a caustic wit," continued Prince Andrew, "and at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s they listen to me. And that stupid set without whom my wife cannot exist, and those women... If you only knew what those society women are, and women in general! My father is right. Selfish, vain, stupid, trivial in everything- that&amp;#39;s what women are when you see them in their true colors! When you meet them in society it seems as if there were something in them, but there&amp;#39;s nothing, nothing, nothing! No, don&amp;#39;t marry, my dear fellow; don&amp;#39;t marry!" concluded Prince Andrew.

"It seems funny to me," said Pierre, "that you, you should consider yourself incapable and your life a spoiled life. You have everything before you, everything. And you..."

He did not finish his sentence, but his tone showed how highly he thought of his friend and how much he expected of him in the future.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:54:34
>>52612785
какого жокира блядь, давай, журнашлюшка, расскажи мне про свое мировоззрение

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:54:45
>>52612803
"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always astonished at Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s calm manner of treating everybody, his extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck by Andrew&amp;#39;s lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a defect but as a sign of strength.

Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary to wheels that they may run smoothly.

"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What&amp;#39;s the use of talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, smiling at his reassuring thoughts.

That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre&amp;#39;s face.

"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the present I am free and am all right. Only I haven&amp;#39;t the least idea what I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously."

Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority.

"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among our whole set. Yes, you&amp;#39;re all right! Choose what you will; it&amp;#39;s all the same. You&amp;#39;ll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!"
"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always astonished at Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s calm manner of treating everybody, his extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck by Andrew&amp;#39;s lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a defect but as a sign of strength.

Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary to wheels that they may run smoothly.

"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What&amp;#39;s the use of talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, smiling at his reassuring thoughts.

That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre&amp;#39;s face.

"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the present I am free and am all right. Only I haven&amp;#39;t the least idea what I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously."

Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority.

"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among our whole set. Yes, you&amp;#39;re all right! Choose what you will; it&amp;#39;s all the same. You&amp;#39;ll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!"
"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always astonished at Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s calm manner of treating everybody, his extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck by Andrew&amp;#39;s lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a defect but as a sign of strength.

Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary to wheels that they may run smoothly.

"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What&amp;#39;s the use of talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, smiling at his reassuring thoughts.

That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre&amp;#39;s face.

"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the present I am free and am all right. Only I haven&amp;#39;t the least idea what I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously."

Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority.

"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among our whole set. Yes, you&amp;#39;re all right! Choose what you will; it&amp;#39;s all the same. You&amp;#39;ll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!"
"How can he talk like that?" thought Pierre. He considered his friend a model of perfection because Prince Andrew possessed in the highest degree just the very qualities Pierre lacked, and which might be best described as strength of will. Pierre was always astonished at Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s calm manner of treating everybody, his extraordinary memory, his extensive reading (he had read everything, knew everything, and had an opinion about everything), but above all at his capacity for work and study. And if Pierre was often struck by Andrew&amp;#39;s lack of capacity for philosophical meditation (to which he himself was particularly addicted), he regarded even this not as a defect but as a sign of strength.

Even in the best, most friendly and simplest relations of life, praise and commendation are essential, just as grease is necessary to wheels that they may run smoothly.

"My part is played out," said Prince Andrew. "What&amp;#39;s the use of talking about me? Let us talk about you," he added after a silence, smiling at his reassuring thoughts.

That smile was immediately reflected on Pierre&amp;#39;s face.

"But what is there to say about me?" said Pierre, his face relaxing into a careless, merry smile. "What am I? An illegitimate son!" He suddenly blushed crimson, and it was plain that he had made a great effort to say this. "Without a name and without means... And it really..." But he did not say what "it really" was. "For the present I am free and am all right. Only I haven&amp;#39;t the least idea what I am to do; I wanted to consult you seriously."

Prince Andrew looked kindly at him, yet his glance- friendly and affectionate as it was- expressed a sense of his own superiority.

"I am fond of you, especially as you are the one live man among our whole set. Yes, you&amp;#39;re all right! Choose what you will; it&amp;#39;s all the same. You&amp;#39;ll be all right anywhere. But look here: give up visiting those Kuragins and leading that sort of life. It suits you so badly- all this debauchery, dissipation, and the rest of it!"

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:54:53
>>52612790
>Бугурт
Где? Ты о чём?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:54:58
sage


Наталья Андреева

Адам ищет Еву, или Сезон дикой охоты

Мы с тобой одной крови

Ура! В новый, только что отстроенный микрорайон Москвы приехал передвижной зоопарк! Еще вчера утром все видели, как по пустырю гулял самый настоящий верблюд! А сегодня и он, и старый седой волк, и стайка крикливых обезьян, и даже огромный бегемот все они сидели в плотно сдвинутых клетках. Туда, на огороженную площадку, с самого утра тянулся народ. Взрослые вели детей в передвижной зоопарк.

Маленькая девочка Алиса крепко держалась одной рукой за маму, другой за папу. В такой толпе немудрено и потеряться! Раньше Алиса жила в центре, в двухкомнатной квартире, вместе с родителями и бабушкой Любой. Бабушка была очень доброй, тайком кормила ее конфетами до обеда и разрешала Алисе в мамино отсутствие залезать в шкатулку, где лежали волшебные вещи: серьги, броши, браслеты, яркие разноцветные бусы. Однажды Алиса нечаянно разорвала одну нить, и баба Люба сказала маме, что это сделала она.

Да, бабушка была очень доброй, но мама и папа почему-то говорили, что это не жизнь, а сплошное мучение: из-за квартиры терпеть вздорную старуху. Вроде бы она была Алисиному отцу двоюродной теткой, и девочке долго пытались объяснить степень этого родства. Но Алиса не понимала, как могут быть двоюродные бабушки и почему тихую старушку называют вздорной.

И вот наконец свершилось! Папе дали квартиру в новом микрорайоне! Большую, светлую, пахнущую свежей краской и штукатуркой! А тихая одинокая баба Люба осталась в центре в старом доме с толстенными стенами, в двух комнатах с высоченными потолками. Алиса ее очень жалела, но приближалось первое сентября, надо собираться в школу в первый класс. Начались такие приятные хлопоты, за которыми тихая баба Люба вскоре забылась, как старая добрая сказка. Да, она когда-то была, но рано или поздно приходится взрослеть.

Школа тоже была новая, Алиса проходила мимо нее каждый день и всякий раз внутренне ликовала. Правда, побаивалась немного, ведь в новом микрорайоне нет у нее знакомых. А вдруг местные дети совсем не похожи на тех, что живут в центре?

И Алиса, крепко сжимая потные ладошки, чтобы не потеряться, изо всех сил крутила головой. Ее яркие синие глаза были широко распахнуты. Как же много здесь детей! И все они идут в передвижной зоопарк! Интересно, кто из них окажется ее соседом или соседкой по школьной парте?

Она была счастлива. Мама купила заветного петушка на палочке, огромного, медового цвета, а папа пообещал мороженое, самое Алисино любимое шоколадную трубочку за двадцать восемь копеек. Вскоре она уже стояла возле клетки с усталым сонным львом и в потной ладошке сжимала заветный леденец-петушок. На этот петушок то и дело косилась маленькая черноволосая девочка. Алиса долго колебалась, но потом протянула ей руку с петушком:

Хочешь? Лизни.

Девочка вытянула розовый язычок, коснулась леденца. Алиса тут же убрала руку:

Хватит. Как тебя зовут?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:05
>>52612803
"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!"

"I don&amp;#39;t understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme il faut, that&amp;#39;s a different matter; but the Kuragins&amp;#39; set of women, &amp;#39;women and wine&amp;#39; I don&amp;#39;t understand!"

Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin&amp;#39;s and sharing the dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s sister.

"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading such a life I can&amp;#39;t decide or think properly about anything. One&amp;#39;s head aches, and one spends all one&amp;#39;s money. He asked me for tonight, but I won&amp;#39;t go."

"You give me your word of honor not to go?"

"On my honor!"

"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!"

"I don&amp;#39;t understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme il faut, that&amp;#39;s a different matter; but the Kuragins&amp;#39; set of women, &amp;#39;women and wine&amp;#39; I don&amp;#39;t understand!"

Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin&amp;#39;s and sharing the dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s sister.

"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading such a life I can&amp;#39;t decide or think properly about anything. One&amp;#39;s head aches, and one spends all one&amp;#39;s money. He asked me for tonight, but I won&amp;#39;t go."

"You give me your word of honor not to go?"

"On my honor!"


"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!"

"I don&amp;#39;t understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme il faut, that&amp;#39;s a different matter; but the Kuragins&amp;#39; set of women, &amp;#39;women and wine&amp;#39; I don&amp;#39;t understand!"

Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin&amp;#39;s and sharing the dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s sister.

"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading such a life I can&amp;#39;t decide or think properly about anything. One&amp;#39;s head aches, and one spends all one&amp;#39;s money. He asked me for tonight, but I won&amp;#39;t go."

"You give me your word of honor not to go?"

"On my honor!"


"What would you have, my dear fellow?" answered Pierre, shrugging his shoulders. "Women, my dear fellow; women!"

"I don&amp;#39;t understand it," replied Prince Andrew. "Women who are comme il faut, that&amp;#39;s a different matter; but the Kuragins&amp;#39; set of women, &amp;#39;women and wine&amp;#39; I don&amp;#39;t understand!"

Pierre was staying at Prince Vasili Kuragin&amp;#39;s and sharing the dissipated life of his son Anatole, the son whom they were planning to reform by marrying him to Prince Andrew&amp;#39;s sister.

"Do you know?" said Pierre, as if suddenly struck by a happy thought, "seriously, I have long been thinking of it.... Leading such a life I can&amp;#39;t decide or think properly about anything. One&amp;#39;s head aches, and one spends all one&amp;#39;s money. He asked me for tonight, but I won&amp;#39;t go."

"You give me your word of honor not to go?"

"On my honor!"


Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:25
Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:29
sage
Страшно, покачала головой Регина. А вдруг он притворяется?

Ты трусиха! заявила Алиса. А вот я ничего не боюсь!

И покосилась на льва: а вдруг и в самом деле притворяется? Хитро прищурилась:

Ладно, пусть спит. Наверное, он болеет, а больным нужен покой. Пойдем смотреть бегемота?

Пойдем.

И они бегом понеслись к соседней клетке. За новоявленными подружками едва успевали родители.

Через две недели две девочки, светленькая и темненькая, сидели за одной школьной партой. Обе были очень хорошенькие, и учительница с удовольствием смотрела на две головки, склоненные над тетрадками. Какие милые девочки! Только Регина гораздо прилежнее подружки, зато Алиса гораздо хитрее. Недаром ее с первых же дней прозвали в классе Лисой. А грациозную черноволосую Регину с легкой руки той же Алисы вскоре стали звать не иначе как Багирой. Так они и шли по жизни вместе, рука об руку, целых десять лет, да и потом продолжали оставаться лучшими подругами. Хотя взрослая жизнь их сложилась абсолютно не похоже. И вот уже одна стала завидовать другой самой настоящей черной завистью.

Хищники выходят на тропу войны

Лиса

Я не дам тебе денег! Ни за что!

Алиса забилась в угол единственной комнаты и оттуда испуганно смотрела на мужа. Тот стоял, сжав кулаки. Желтоватые зубы оскалены, глаза горят, как у самого настоящего волка. Этот на части порвет, не задумываясь. Он выше Алисы на целую голову, плечи широченные, мускулы железные. Алисе страшно, но она не устает повторять:

Нет, нет, нет!

Я убью тебя! Сказал же: дай мне денег!

Сеня, у меня нет такой суммы! Двести тысяч рублей! Где я их возьму?

Я предложил: давай продадим дачу. Она больше стоит. Отдадим долг, остальное вложим в бизнес.

Алиса знала этот его бизнес. Муж привозит вещи из Турции, она сама была инициатором этого, сама же стоит на рынке, мерзнет в лютый холод, парится в жару. После того как военный завод, на котором работал Арсений, закрылся, другого выхода, как заняться торговлей, не оставалось. Вначале перспективы были самые радужные. Наконец-то! Работать на себя, не на дядю! Не дожидаться зарплаты будто манны небесной, гадая, вовремя дадут или задержат? Если задержат, то насколько?

Но Арсений оказался плохим бизнесменом. И это в то время, когда и у хороших дела идут не бог весть как! Люди жмутся, вещи покупают неохотно, да и торгуются так, будто пришел их последний день. Но их тоже можно понять, Алиса и сама вот уже много лет так живет. Тоже торгуется до хрипоты, а купив что-то на рынке, тут же идет к контрольным весам проверять, не обманули ли. Если бы не наследство бабы Любы, двухкомнатная квартира в центре, которую они с Арсением теперь сдают, было бы совсем худо. А так им многие даже завидуют. Еще бы! Тысяча долларов в месяц без особых хлопот! Господи, куда деньги только деваются? Ну не держатся они у Арсения, и все тут! Ведь можно было бы жить если не роскошно, то вполне приемлемо! Так нет, у него замашки миллионера: все только самое лучшее!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:38
>>52612815
It was past one o&amp;#39;clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of.

"I should like to go to Kuragin&amp;#39;s," thought he.

But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such &amp;#39;words of honor&amp;#39; are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin&amp;#39;s.

Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards&amp;#39; barracks, in which Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the distance.

Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and trying to set him at the others.
It was past one o&amp;#39;clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of.

"I should like to go to Kuragin&amp;#39;s," thought he.

But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such &amp;#39;words of honor&amp;#39; are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin&amp;#39;s.

Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards&amp;#39; barracks, in which Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the distance.

Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and trying to set him at the others.
It was past one o&amp;#39;clock when Pierre left his friend. It was a cloudless, northern, summer night. Pierre took an open cab intending to drive straight home. But the nearer he drew to the house the more he felt the impossibility of going to sleep on such a night. It was light enough to see a long way in the deserted street and it seemed more like morning or evening than night. On the way Pierre remembered that Anatole Kuragin was expecting the usual set for cards that evening, after which there was generally a drinking bout, finishing with visits of a kind Pierre was very fond of.

"I should like to go to Kuragin&amp;#39;s," thought he.

But he immediately recalled his promise to Prince Andrew not to go there. Then, as happens to people of weak character, he desired so passionately once more to enjoy that dissipation he was so accustomed to that he decided to go. The thought immediately occurred to him that his promise to Prince Andrew was of no account, because before he gave it he had already promised Prince Anatole to come to his gathering; "besides," thought he, "all such &amp;#39;words of honor&amp;#39; are conventional things with no definite meaning, especially if one considers that by tomorrow one may be dead, or something so extraordinary may happen to one that honor and dishonor will be all the same!" Pierre often indulged in reflections of this sort, nullifying all his decisions and intentions. He went to Kuragin&amp;#39;s.

Reaching the large house near the Horse Guards&amp;#39; barracks, in which Anatole lived, Pierre entered the lighted porch, ascended the stairs, and went in at the open door. There was no one in the anteroom; empty bottles, cloaks, and overshoes were lying about; there was a smell of alcohol, and sounds of voices and shouting in the distance.

Cards and supper were over, but the visitors had not yet dispersed. Pierre threw off his cloak and entered the first room, in which were the remains of supper. A footman, thinking no one saw him, was drinking on the sly what was left in the glasses. From the third room came sounds of laughter, the shouting of familiar voices, the growling of a bear, and general commotion. Some eight or nine young men were crowding anxiously round an open window. Three others were romping with a young bear, one pulling him by the chain and trying to set him at the others.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:41
>>52612816
Было бы охуенно.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:43
>>52612668
>Спасибо за совет. Но мне все же на него похуй. Не обижайся.
Я не в обиде, я в принципе знал, что ты так скажешь. Но я всё равно рад, что ты его прочитал, возможно это или что-то другое в будущем подтолкнёт тебя к чему-то новому и поможет стать счастливее. А может быть и нет, лол, может спокойствие не для тебя и из ярости ты получишь даже больше положительных эмоций, хотя мне это кажется очень сомнительным. В общем-то у каждого своя дорога к счастью и я допускаю, что не у всех она лежит через гармонию и здоровый похуизм.
В любом случае, мой рабочий день подходит к концу и мне пора бы покинуть тред. Добра тебе, анон.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:44
>>52612785
>фелософствовать
ШТО?
фаллософствовать, лол

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:50
Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:55:56
Я против вайпа на <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(110, 33, 95); color: rgb(82, 145, 26);">мизулин</span>ах. Кто согласен, ставьте лайк.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:00
>>52612815
"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one.

"Mind, no holding on!" cried another.

"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands."

"There, leave Bruin alone; here&amp;#39;s a bet on."

"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth.

"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre.

Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about him merrily.

"I don&amp;#39;t understand. What&amp;#39;s it all about?"

"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre.

"First of all you must drink!"

Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre&amp;#39;s glass while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out.

"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last glass, "or I won&amp;#39;t let you go!"

"No, I won&amp;#39;t," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to the window.
"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one.

"Mind, no holding on!" cried another.

"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands."

"There, leave Bruin alone; here&amp;#39;s a bet on."

"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth.

"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre.

Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about him merrily.

"I don&amp;#39;t understand. What&amp;#39;s it all about?"

"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre.

"First of all you must drink!"

Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre&amp;#39;s glass while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out.

"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last glass, "or I won&amp;#39;t let you go!"

"No, I won&amp;#39;t," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to the window.
"I bet a hundred on Stevens!" shouted one.

"Mind, no holding on!" cried another.

"I bet on Dolokhov!" cried a third. "Kuragin, you part our hands."

"There, leave Bruin alone; here&amp;#39;s a bet on."

"At one draught, or he loses!" shouted a fourth.

"Jacob, bring a bottle!" shouted the host, a tall, handsome fellow who stood in the midst of the group, without a coat, and with his fine linen shirt unfastened in front. "Wait a bit, you fellows.... Here is Petya! Good man!" cried he, addressing Pierre.

Another voice, from a man of medium height with clear blue eyes, particularly striking among all these drunken voices by its sober ring, cried from the window: "Come here; part the bets!" This was Dolokhov, an officer of the Semenov regiment, a notorious gambler and duelist, who was living with Anatole. Pierre smiled, looking about him merrily.

"I don&amp;#39;t understand. What&amp;#39;s it all about?"

"Wait a bit, he is not drunk yet! A bottle here," said Anatole, taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre.

"First of all you must drink!"

Pierre drank one glass after another, looking from under his brows at the tipsy guests who were again crowding round the window, and listening to their chatter. Anatole kept on refilling Pierre&amp;#39;s glass while explaining that Dolokhov was betting with Stevens, an English naval officer, that he would drink a bottle of rum sitting on the outer ledge of the third floor window with his legs hanging out.

"Go on, you must drink it all," said Anatole, giving Pierre the last glass, "or I won&amp;#39;t let you go!"

"No, I won&amp;#39;t," said Pierre, pushing Anatole aside, and he went up to the window.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:02
sage
[Я его ненавижуk! подумала Алиса. Муж опять умудрился наделать долгов, причем люди на этот раз попались серьезные. Вот Арсений и вынуждает ее продать дом.

Ведь это же моя дача! Моя! Чтоб мою больную на голову бабку черти на том свете на сковороде как следует поджарили!

Сеня, как ты можешь? Алиса была в ужасе от такого кощунства.

Это надо ж было умудриться! Подарить мне, своему единственному внуку, дом, а землю, сорок соток, моей жене! Кому нужен дом без земли?

Она не хотела, чтобы ты продавал усадьбу, негромко сказала Алиса. В этом доме восемьдесят лет жили твои предки.

Да, покойная бабушка Арсения, с одной стороны, поступила мудро, а с другой глупо, еще при жизни оформив весьма странную дарственную. Ведь Арсений вполне может запугать жену и заставить ее подписать бумаги на продажу. Видимо, бабка надеялась на Алисину неуступчивость. Сердце подсказало старой вещунье, что давно уже не все в порядке между мужем и женой. Раз ребенка до сих пор не родили, значит, собрались не жизнь вместе прожить, а разводиться. А в старом загородном доме как не было чужих, так и не должно быть. По закону земля принадлежит Алисе, и все тут. Кому нужен дом без земли? Выходит, Алисе больше повезло с наследством, когда двоюродная тетка отца взяла да и оформила незадолго до смерти все имущество на нее. А на месте бассейна [Москваk, куда выходили окна ее квартиры, построили величественный храм.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:14
Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:17
>>52612815
Dolokhov was holding the Englishman&amp;#39;s hand and clearly and distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself particularly to Anatole and Pierre.

Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg.

The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions and shouts of the gentlemen around.

Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, but could not move it. He smashed a pane.

"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre.

Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame out with a crash.

"Take it right out, or they&amp;#39;ll think I&amp;#39;m holding on," said Dolokhov.

"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole.

"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible.
Dolokhov was holding the Englishman&amp;#39;s hand and clearly and distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself particularly to Anatole and Pierre.

Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg.

The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions and shouts of the gentlemen around.

Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, but could not move it. He smashed a pane.

"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre.

Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame out with a crash.

"Take it right out, or they&amp;#39;ll think I&amp;#39;m holding on," said Dolokhov.

"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole.

"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible.
Dolokhov was holding the Englishman&amp;#39;s hand and clearly and distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself particularly to Anatole and Pierre.

Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg.

The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions and shouts of the gentlemen around.

Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, but could not move it. He smashed a pane.

"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre.

Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame out with a crash.

"Take it right out, or they&amp;#39;ll think I&amp;#39;m holding on," said Dolokhov.

"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole.

"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible.
Dolokhov was holding the Englishman&amp;#39;s hand and clearly and distinctly repeating the terms of the bet, addressing himself particularly to Anatole and Pierre.

Dolokhov was of medium height, with curly hair and light-blue eyes. He was about twenty-five. Like all infantry officers he wore no mustache, so that his mouth, the most striking feature of his face, was clearly seen. The lines of that mouth were remarkably finely curved. The middle of the upper lip formed a sharp wedge and closed firmly on the firm lower one, and something like two distinct smiles played continually round the two corners of the mouth; this, together with the resolute, insolent intelligence of his eyes, produced an effect which made it impossible not to notice his face. Dolokhov was a man of small means and no connections. Yet, though Anatole spent tens of thousands of rubles, Dolokhov lived with him and had placed himself on such a footing that all who knew them, including Anatole himself, respected him more than they did Anatole. Dolokhov could play all games and nearly always won. However much he drank, he never lost his clearheadedness. Both Kuragin and Dolokhov were at that time notorious among the rakes and scapegraces of Petersburg.

The bottle of rum was brought. The window frame which prevented anyone from sitting on the outer sill was being forced out by two footmen, who were evidently flurried and intimidated by the directions and shouts of the gentlemen around.

Anatole with his swaggering air strode up to the window. He wanted to smash something. Pushing away the footmen he tugged at the frame, but could not move it. He smashed a pane.

"You have a try, Hercules," said he, turning to Pierre.

Pierre seized the crossbeam, tugged, and wrenched the oak frame out with a crash.

"Take it right out, or they&amp;#39;ll think I&amp;#39;m holding on," said Dolokhov.

"Is the Englishman bragging?... Eh? Is it all right?" said Anatole.

"First-rate," said Pierre, looking at Dolokhov, who with a bottle of rum in his hand was approaching the window, from which the light of the sky, the dawn merging with the afterglow of sunset, was visible.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:22
sage
Ну хотя бы половину разреши продать, Арсений сбавляет тон, пробует решить все миром. Ведь там целых сорок соток! На половине земли трава растет! Зачем тебе все это?

Он прав, Алисе не нужен этот участок. Она выросла в городе, деревенской жизни отродясь не знала, в земле копаться не любит, если что ей и по душе, так это возиться с цветами. Но для этого сорока соток не надо. Алисе просто хочется насолить мужу. И потом: один раз уступишь, он так и будет давить. Придет время, и он доберется до бабы-Любиной квартиры. А она кормит их маленькую семью. Именно квартира, а не так называемый бизнес Арсения.

А я там дом построю! На своих сорока сотках! Вот!

Чтоб ты сдохла! Дура! Чтоб ты сдохла!

Это еще не самое худшее, что Алиса слышит от мужа. За четырнадцать лет привыкла к скандалам. Давно бы развелись, но Арсению это невыгодно. Квартира, которая их кормит, принадлежит супруге, да и дом без ее согласия не продашь. А кто будет стоять на рынке с тряпками? Он сам, что ли? А мыть, стирать, убирать? Алиса все сносит безропотно, только иногда, вот как сейчас, позволяет себе стать в позу. Хоть чем-то, да насолить. Арсений сжимает кулаки. Если она будет упрямиться, он сам не знает, что сделает!

Я спалю этот дом на хрен! Поняла? Спалю!

Ну и что?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:35
>>52612885
Что мешает? Силушка воли не позволяет?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:35
sage
Сожгу и получу страховку. Потому что я домовладелец, и я ее оформлял на себя. Как раз на двести тысяч! Ха-ха!

Когда тебе ее еще выплатят? Алиса пробует образумить мужа.

Ничего, я найду, у кого перехватить денег. А потом все отдам. Так что? Подпишешь бумаги или мне дом поджечь?

Да поджигай!

Дура! Я тебя сейчас

Алиса с визгом несется на кухню, пробует закрыть дверь. Конечно, это ее не спасет, Арсений силен и быстр, но, пару раз вяло рванув дверь, он почему-то успокаивается. Ругается громко, грязно и возвращается в единственную комнату. Слышно, как там скрипнул диван, потом муж на полную громкость включил телевизор. Назло. Алиса же, упав на шатающуюся табуретку, принимается громко рыдать.

А ведь все начиналось неплохо, совсем неплохо! Правда, училась Алиса далеко не так блестяще, как ее лучшая подруга Регина, и в институт после десятого класса не решилась поступать. Куда уж! Практичная мама посоветовала:

Иди в торговый техникум. Будешь сыта, одета, обута. Особого ума бог тебе не дал, так хитростью возьмешь. Ты девочка ловкая.

Ах, мама, мама! Если бы ты тогда знала, что пройдет пара лет и магазины будут ломиться от товаров, а продавцы буквально заманивать туда покупателей, да еще и различные лотереи выдумывать, да дегустации-презентации, лишь бы только шли и покупали именно у них. Если бы ты, мама, знала, что придет время и бедный мальчик, приехавший из провинции и отвергнутый тобой в качестве кандидата в зятья, найдет применение своим талантам и заработает кучу денег. Вспомни, что ты сказала тогда?

Кто он, Алисочка? Студент? Ох! И где учится? В МАДИ? Ох! А сам откуда? Ох! В общежитии живет? Ох, ох, ох! Ну, закончит он свой институт, будет инженеришкой, каких много. Нищенская зарплата, премии век не дождаться, квартиры тоже. И где ж вы будете жить? И на что?

В то время баба Люба была еще полна сил и здоровья, и все, на что Алиса могла рассчитывать, это поселиться вместе со своим избранником в одной из двух ее комнат. Как когда-то ее мама с папой. Как многие родители, те не хотели, чтобы единственная дочь повторила их судьбу, и познакомили ее с Арсением Митрофановым.

Вот жених так жених! Не упусти, Алиса! В армии отслужил, техникум закончил, работает на режимном предприятии, зарплата приличная. И квартира имеется. Правда, однокомнатная, в панельном доме на первом этаже, но на первое время вам хватит. Встанете на очередь, глядишь, получите двухкомнатную. Только с ребенком не спешите, пока очередь на квартиру не подойдет. Тогда, Алисочка, надо рожать, чтобы дали двухкомнатную. А еще лучше развестись и получить целых две.

Мать настойчиво, изо дня в день, внушала эти мысли дочери, а капля, как известно, камень точит. К тому же Арсений был на редкость симпатичным парнем: высокий, широкоплечий, светловолосый, глаза светло-карие, с яркими пляшущими искорками. Тогда еще это был веселый смех, а не с трудом сдерживаемое бешенство

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:38
Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:52
sage
Алиса со злостью оглядела старые стены. Будь оно все проклято! Где ты сейчас, мама, с советами своими? Сидишь в будочке вахтера, подрабатываешь к скудной пенсии, вяжешь очередной шерстяной носочек внуку, которого тебе так и не дождаться, да смотришь одним глазом в крохотный телевизор. У тебя полный комод этих носочков, однотонных и в полосочку, только к чему все это? Зачем? Мама, зачем?

Вот уже четырнадцать лет Алиса с мужем живет все в той же однокомнатной квартире на первом этаже, Арсений ленив, давно требуется ремонт, а он все тянет. У них [Жигулиk четвертой модели, которые постоянно ломаются. Причем сказать [у нихk будет неправильно. Машиной единолично пользуется Арсений. У Алисы есть водительские права, но, если бы не лучшая подруга Регина, никогда бы не сидеть ей за рулем. Регина иногда разрешает по доверенности ездить ей на своем новеньком [Пежоk. Алиса же может позволить себе немногое. Все решает Арсений, а он предпочитает держать жену в черном теле.

Алиса тянется к столу, берет маленькое зеркальце и, глянув в него, начинает рыдать еще громче. Во что она превратилась! Тридцать пять лет, а фигура далеко не такая стройная, как у Регины. Живот висит, на бедрах складки. На лице никакой косметики, в парикмахерской забыла уже, когда последний раз была. А ведь ее когда-то называли очень хорошенькой! И ей хотелось наряжаться, нравиться мужчинам, кокетничать напропалую. Сейчас же хочется только одного: лечь и уснуть. Во сне время быстрее проходит, быстрее проходит жизнь. Потому что давно уже Алиса мечтает, чтобы быстрее все это закончилось.

Хочет спалить дом? Да пусть поджигает! Вместе им давно уже тесно на земле.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:56:56
>>52612894
Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those in the room. All were silent.

"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, addressing the Englishman.

"No, fifty," replied the latter.

"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?"

"Quite right," said the Englishman.

Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English.

"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?"

The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on translating Dolokhov&amp;#39;s words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the window sill, leaned over, and looked down.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the stones of the pavement.

"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.
Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those in the room. All were silent.

"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, addressing the Englishman.

"No, fifty," replied the latter.

"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?"

"Quite right," said the Englishman.

Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English.

"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?"

The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on translating Dolokhov&amp;#39;s words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the window sill, leaned over, and looked down.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the stones of the pavement.

"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.
Dolokhov, the bottle of rum still in his hand, jumped onto the window sill. "Listen!" cried he, standing there and addressing those in the room. All were silent.

"I bet fifty imperials"- he spoke French that the Englishman might understand him, but he did, not speak it very well- "I bet fifty imperials... or do you wish to make it a hundred?" added he, addressing the Englishman.

"No, fifty," replied the latter.

"All right. Fifty imperials... that I will drink a whole bottle of rum without taking it from my mouth, sitting outside the window on this spot" (he stooped and pointed to the sloping ledge outside the window) "and without holding on to anything. Is that right?"

"Quite right," said the Englishman.

Anatole turned to the Englishman and taking him by one of the buttons of his coat and looking down at him- the Englishman was short- began repeating the terms of the wager to him in English.

"Wait!" cried Dolokhov, hammering with the bottle on the window sill to attract attention. "Wait a bit, Kuragin. Listen! If anyone else does the same, I will pay him a hundred imperials. Do you understand?"

The Englishman nodded, but gave no indication whether he intended to accept this challenge or not. Anatole did not release him, and though he kept nodding to show that he understood, Anatole went on translating Dolokhov&amp;#39;s words into English. A thin young lad, an hussar of the Life Guards, who had been losing that evening, climbed on the window sill, leaned over, and looked down.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" he muttered, looking down from the window at the stones of the pavement.

"Shut up!" cried Dolokhov, pushing him away from the window. The lad jumped awkwardly back into the room, tripping over his spurs.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:03
sage


Багира

Регина, тебе дать еще денег?

Зачем, дорогой?

Ну, может, тебе не хватает?

У меня все есть. Впрочем, я подумаю. Дорогой, ты сегодня будешь ужинать дома?

Да, скорее всего.

Что бы ты хотел на ужин? Я могу приготовить стейк из семги. Рыба не такая калорийная, как мясо, а тебе надо следить за фигурой. По-моему, за последний год ты накопил несколько лишних килограммов. Дорого-ой? О чем ты думаешь?

И Регина шутливо ущипнула мужа за выпирающий животик. Какая там пара лишних! Хорошо еще, что Антон крупный мужчина высокого роста. А то бы казался просто толстым. Но говорить ему об этом надо осторожно. К чему создавать у мужа лишние комплексы? Они стоят в прихожей, Антон протягивает ей галстук:

Завяжи, пожалуйста. Как думаешь, может, мне снова стоит заняться теннисом? Или в бассейн?

И на теннис, и в бассейн. В бассейн по выходным ты можешь ходить со мной.

Регина с удовольствием оглядывает в зеркале свою стройную фигуру. После того как сын уйдет в школу, можно пойти в фитнес-клуб. Она, Регина Перовская, постоянный член этого клуба, и стоит это сущие гроши: пару тысяч рублей в месяц. Солярий, массаж и услуги косметолога за дополнительную плату, но и это для нее тоже необременительно. Какие, в сущности, пустяки!

А ведь как все начиналось! Непросто, ох непросто! Разве думала когда-нибудь Регина, умница, отличница, первая в классе ученица, что будет заурядной домохозяйкой? Вовсе нет! Напротив, ей хотелось свершить что-нибудь необыкновенное, хотелось учиться, потом работать, потом снова учиться. Аспирантура, кандидатская диссертация, докторская Так умница Регина видела свой жизненный путь, когда после школы поступила не куда-нибудь, а в МГУ на филфак. А вскоре на университетскую дискотеку один из ее однокурсников привел своего друга Антона. Регина влюбилась в него с первого взгляда, хотя Антону тогда больше нравилась ее подруга Алиса. Но той родители вскоре нашли обеспеченного деньгами и жильем жениха, и Антон остался не у дел.

Регина была безумно влюблена, она приложила все силы, чтобы парня утешить. Родители ее поддержали: женитесь, будете жить у нас, в одной из комнат. Антону, видимо, очень хотелось стать москвичом, поэтому он сделал Регине предложение. Она чувствовала тогда, что нелюбима, но верила в свои силы. Как, впрочем, и всегда.

Ох, что это были за времена! Вместе с родителями в маленькой двухкомнатной квартирке! А вскоре родился Алешка. Сейчас ему почти четырнадцать лет. Подумать только: четырнадцать лет! Как же быстро время летит! Регина оглядела прихожую. Трехкомнатную квартиру муж купил семь лет назад, но евроремонт в ней они смогли сделать только спустя три года. Что ж, не все сразу. Были времена, когда они всей семьей жили на зарплату Антона, который работал младшим научным сотрудником в НИИ. Регина сидела в декрете с Алешкой и по-прежнему верила в себя. Муж полюбил ее не сразу, но полюбил. Это Регина знает точно, потому что у него нет любовницы. А ведь с его деньгами иметь таковую не проблема. Не сразу, ох далеко не сразу пришел к Антону успех! И пришел-то он потому, что рядом была чуткая, понимающая Регина.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:05
>>52612889
Добра тебе, бро.
Тоже пойду домой. Хватит мне тут толстить. :3

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:06
>>52612898
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was already quite light. Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back in his white shirt, and his curly head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov&amp;#39;s shirt.

"I say, this is folly! He&amp;#39;ll be killed," said this more sensible man.

Anatole stopped him.

"Don&amp;#39;t touch him! You&amp;#39;ll startle him and then he&amp;#39;ll be killed. Eh?... What then?... Eh?"

Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, arranged himself on his seat.

"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down there. Now then!"

Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back. Anatole stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was already quite light. Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back in his white shirt, and his curly head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov&amp;#39;s shirt.

"I say, this is folly! He&amp;#39;ll be killed," said this more sensible man.

Anatole stopped him.

"Don&amp;#39;t touch him! You&amp;#39;ll startle him and then he&amp;#39;ll be killed. Eh?... What then?... Eh?"

Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, arranged himself on his seat.

"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down there. Now then!"

Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back. Anatole stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was already quite light. Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back in his white shirt, and his curly head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov&amp;#39;s shirt.

"I say, this is folly! He&amp;#39;ll be killed," said this more sensible man.

Anatole stopped him.

"Don&amp;#39;t touch him! You&amp;#39;ll startle him and then he&amp;#39;ll be killed. Eh?... What then?... Eh?"

Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, arranged himself on his seat.

"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down there. Now then!"

Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back. Anatole stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.
Placing the bottle on the window sill where he could reach it easily, Dolokhov climbed carefully and slowly through the window and lowered his legs. Pressing against both sides of the window, he adjusted himself on his seat, lowered his hands, moved a little to the right and then to the left, and took up the bottle. Anatole brought two candles and placed them on the window sill, though it was already quite light. Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back in his white shirt, and his curly head, were lit up from both sides. Everyone crowded to the window, the Englishman in front. Pierre stood smiling but silent. One man, older than the others present, suddenly pushed forward with a scared and angry look and wanted to seize hold of Dolokhov&amp;#39;s shirt.

"I say, this is folly! He&amp;#39;ll be killed," said this more sensible man.

Anatole stopped him.

"Don&amp;#39;t touch him! You&amp;#39;ll startle him and then he&amp;#39;ll be killed. Eh?... What then?... Eh?"

Dolokhov turned round and, again holding on with both hands, arranged himself on his seat.

"If anyone comes meddling again," said he, emitting the words separately through his thin compressed lips, "I will throw him down there. Now then!"

Saying this he again turned round, dropped his hands, took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, threw back his head, and raised his free hand to balance himself. One of the footmen who had stooped to pick up some broken glass remained in that position without taking his eyes from the window and from Dolokhov&amp;#39;s back. Anatole stood erect with staring eyes. The Englishman looked on sideways, pursing up his lips. The man who had wished to stop the affair ran to a corner of the room and threw himself on a sofa with his face to the wall. Pierre hid his face, from which a faint smile forgot to fade though his features now expressed horror and fear. All were still. Pierre took his hands from his eyes. Dolokhov still sat in the same position, only his head was thrown further back till his curly hair touched his shirt collar, and the hand holding the bottle was lifted higher and higher and trembled with the effort. The bottle was emptying perceptibly and rising still higher and his head tilting yet further back. "Why is it so long?" thought Pierre. It seemed to him that more than half an hour had elapsed. Suddenly Dolokhov made a backward movement with his spine, and his arm trembled nervously; this was sufficient to cause his whole body to slip as he sat on the sloping ledge. As he began slipping down, his head and arm wavered still more with the strain. One hand moved as if to clutch the window sill, but refrained from touching it. Pierre again covered his eyes and thought he would never never them again. Suddenly he was aware of a stir all around. He looked up: Dolokhov was standing on the window sill, with a pale but radiant face.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:26
sage
А про любовницу она знает наверняка, потому что умная. Тонкие, незаметные ему наблюдения, пара вопросов вскользь, визит к частному детективу, но так, чтобы Антон ничего не заметил. Правда, он редко проявляет к ней интерес как к женщине, зато между ними установились доверительные дружеские отношения. А это куда ценнее. И любовницы у него нет. Значит, любит ее, Регину. Любит и ценит.

Регина справляется с галстуком, протягивает мужу пиджак. Теперь его начинающаяся полнота почти незаметна. Уверенный в себе, респектабельный мужчина тридцати шести лет, владелец строительной фирмы.

Ну, дорогая, я пошел?

Удачи тебе.

Традиционный поцелуй в дверях. Теперь можно заняться сыном. Потом собой. Во всем должен быть порядок, это гарантия успеха.

Алексей! Леша, пора вставать! Ты опоздаешь в школу!

Когда она уже заканчивает в прихожей свой дневной макияж, раздается телефонный звонок. Регина берет трубку и слышит, как в ней громко рыдает лучшая подруга Алиса.

Лиса? Что случилось? Перестань реветь! Лиса!

Он грозится меня убить!

Кто? Арсений? Вот сволочь! Ну перестань! Мы что-нибудь придумаем. Перестань, Лиса! Слышишь?

В трубке тихий стон:

Я не могу-у-у Я его бою-у-у-усь

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:37
>>52612898
"It&amp;#39;s empty."

He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum.

"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There&amp;#39;s a bet for you!... Devil take you!" came from different sides.

The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon the window sill.

"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I&amp;#39;ll do the same thing!" he suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a bottle. I&amp;#39;ll do it.... Bring a bottle!"

"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling.

"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices.

"I&amp;#39;ll drink it! Let&amp;#39;s have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb out of the window.

They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone who touched him was sent flying.

"No, you&amp;#39;ll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit and I&amp;#39;ll get round him.... Listen! I&amp;#39;ll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to -&amp;#39;s."

"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we&amp;#39;ll take Bruin with us."

And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
"It&amp;#39;s empty."

He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum.

"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There&amp;#39;s a bet for you!... Devil take you!" came from different sides.

The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon the window sill.

"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I&amp;#39;ll do the same thing!" he suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a bottle. I&amp;#39;ll do it.... Bring a bottle!"

"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling.

"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices.

"I&amp;#39;ll drink it! Let&amp;#39;s have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb out of the window.

They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone who touched him was sent flying.

"No, you&amp;#39;ll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit and I&amp;#39;ll get round him.... Listen! I&amp;#39;ll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to -&amp;#39;s."

"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we&amp;#39;ll take Bruin with us."

And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
"It&amp;#39;s empty."

He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum.

"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There&amp;#39;s a bet for you!... Devil take you!" came from different sides.

The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon the window sill.

"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I&amp;#39;ll do the same thing!" he suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a bottle. I&amp;#39;ll do it.... Bring a bottle!"

"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling.

"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices.

"I&amp;#39;ll drink it! Let&amp;#39;s have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb out of the window.

They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone who touched him was sent flying.

"No, you&amp;#39;ll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit and I&amp;#39;ll get round him.... Listen! I&amp;#39;ll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to -&amp;#39;s."

"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we&amp;#39;ll take Bruin with us."

And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.
"It&amp;#39;s empty."

He threw the bottle to the Englishman, who caught it neatly. Dolokhov jumped down. He smelt strongly of rum.

"Well done!... Fine fellow!... There&amp;#39;s a bet for you!... Devil take you!" came from different sides.

The Englishman took out his purse and began counting out the money. Dolokhov stood frowning and did not speak. Pierre jumped upon the window sill.

"Gentlemen, who wishes to bet with me? I&amp;#39;ll do the same thing!" he suddenly cried. "Even without a bet, there! Tell them to bring me a bottle. I&amp;#39;ll do it.... Bring a bottle!"

"Let him do it, let him do it," said Dolokhov, smiling.

"What next? Have you gone mad?... No one would let you!... Why, you go giddy even on a staircase," exclaimed several voices.

"I&amp;#39;ll drink it! Let&amp;#39;s have a bottle of rum!" shouted Pierre, banging the table with a determined and drunken gesture and preparing to climb out of the window.

They seized him by his arms; but he was so strong that everyone who touched him was sent flying.

"No, you&amp;#39;ll never manage him that way," said Anatole. "Wait a bit and I&amp;#39;ll get round him.... Listen! I&amp;#39;ll take your bet tomorrow, but now we are all going to -&amp;#39;s."

"Come on then," cried Pierre. "Come on!... And we&amp;#39;ll take Bruin with us."

And he caught the bear, took it in his arms, lifted it from the ground, and began dancing round the room with it.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:38
Приезжай ко мне. Сегодня же, сейчас. Мы пойдем в фитнес-клуб, я куплю тебе входной билет, поплаваем в бассейне, посидим в сауне, зайдем к массажисту. Ты успокоишься, все мне расскажешь. И мы вместе что-нибудь придумаем.

Хорошо-о-о-о

Алиса все еще громко всхлипывает. Регина кладет трубку и вздыхает. Вот еще одна проблема! Надо обязательно помочь Алисе. Они ведь много лет подруги!

После сауны и массажа обе, расслабленные, сидят в баре и пьют кофе. Регина перебирает в уме варианты:

Должен же быть какой-то выход. Может, тебе с ним развестись?

Он меня убьет, как ты не понимаешь! Он же просто бешеный! Я до развода не доживу! Заставляет меня подписать бумаги, хочет продать дачу. А я не согласна. Сначала дача, потом он и до бабы-Любиной квартиры доберется.

Послушай, может, тебе лучше самой ее продать?

Чего продать?

Квартиру.

Зачем?

Тогда у тебя будут деньги, большие деньги. А деньги это свобода. Ты потихоньку улизнешь от своего Сеньки, и все. И он тебя никогда не найдет. В конце концов, можно даже купить себе новый паспорт. Без штампа о браке. И вообще начать новую жизнь.

Но как мне ее продать? Меня же могут обмануть!

Я тебе помогу. Все это делается в три дня. Оформление бумаг.

А если он узнает?

На первое время надо будет уехать. Если уж ты решила начать новую жизнь.

Да. Я решила. Потому что я так больше не могу! Ты посмотри, во что я превратилась? Посмотри!

Регина скептически оглядывает ее:

М-да-а-а А ведь у тебя когда-то была отличная фигура! Я тебе раньше даже немножко завидовала.

Завидовала? Ты? Мне?

Мы примерно одного роста, но у тебя талия от природы гораздо изящнее. И вообще ты мягче, женственнее. У меня-то фигура почти мальчишеская. Пришлось кое-что предпринять. Да ты знаешь!

Сейчас я вешу больше тебя килограммов на пять, уныло заметила Алиса.

На пять! скептически усмехнулась Регина. Ты себе льстишь, подруга.

Алиса метнула на нее злой взгляд. Конечно! Развлекается тут, плавает в бассейне, подставляет спинку молодому массажисту! Знал бы Антон про некоторые ее фокусы! Не слишком ли большую свободу предоставил он жене? Но за Алисой тоже водится грешок, а ее Сенька куда более грозен, чем Антон. Потому про фокусы Регины Алиса пока молчит. Это взаимная выгода. Они ведь уже много лет лучшие подруги и надежно хранят секреты друг друга.

И куда мне уехать? спрашивает она Регину.

На юг. Есть отличный пансионат, где мы с Антоном отдыхали несколько раз. Там довольно дорого для простого люда, поэтому всегда есть свободные места. Скажем так, это вполне приемлемый отдых для людей среднего класса.

Ой, я боюсь! Давно уже никуда не вылезала. И потом, я плохо выгляжу!

Ничего, загорелое тело смотрится гораздо стройнее. Мы поедем вместе на моей машине. Вдвоем. Ты и я. Сегодня утром Антон спрашивал, не нужны ли мне деньги. Я, пожалуй, возьму у него пару-тройку тысяч.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:56
>>52612894
Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on the evening of Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s soiree. The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no appointment to Kutuzov&amp;#39;s staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna&amp;#39;s endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception Anna Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivilov.

It was St. Natalia&amp;#39;s day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova&amp;#39;s big house on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.

The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner.
Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on the evening of Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s soiree. The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no appointment to Kutuzov&amp;#39;s staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna&amp;#39;s endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception Anna Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivilov.

It was St. Natalia&amp;#39;s day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova&amp;#39;s big house on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.

The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner.
Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on the evening of Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s soiree. The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no appointment to Kutuzov&amp;#39;s staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna&amp;#39;s endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception Anna Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivilov.

It was St. Natalia&amp;#39;s day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova&amp;#39;s big house on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.

The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner.
Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on the evening of Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s soiree. The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no appointment to Kutuzov&amp;#39;s staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna&amp;#39;s endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception Anna Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivilov.

It was St. Natalia&amp;#39;s day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova&amp;#39;s big house on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.

The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner.
Prince Vasili kept the promise he had given to Princess Drubetskaya who had spoken to him on behalf of her only son Boris on the evening of Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s soiree. The matter was mentioned to the Emperor, an exception made, and Boris transferred into the regiment of Semenov Guards with the rank of cornet. He received, however, no appointment to Kutuzov&amp;#39;s staff despite all Anna Mikhaylovna&amp;#39;s endeavors and entreaties. Soon after Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception Anna Mikhaylovna returned to Moscow and went straight to her rich relations, the Rostovs, with whom she stayed when in the town and where and where her darling Bory, who had only just entered a regiment of the line and was being at once transferred to the Guards as a cornet, had been educated from childhood and lived for years at a time. The Guards had already left Petersburg on the tenth of August, and her son, who had remained in Moscow for his equipment, was to join them on the march to Radzivilov.

It was St. Natalia&amp;#39;s day and the name day of two of the Rostovs- the mother and the youngest daughter- both named Nataly. Ever since the morning, carriages with six horses had been coming and going continually, bringing visitors to the Countess Rostova&amp;#39;s big house on the Povarskaya, so well known to all Moscow. The countess herself and her handsome eldest daughter were in the drawing-room with the visitors who came to congratulate, and who constantly succeeded one another in relays.

The countess was a woman of about forty-five, with a thin Oriental type of face, evidently worn out with childbearing- she had had twelve. A languor of motion and speech, resulting from weakness, gave her a distinguished air which inspired respect. Princess Anna Mikhaylovna Drubetskaya, who as a member of the household was also seated in the drawing room, helped to receive and entertain the visitors. The young people were in one of the inner rooms, not considering it necessary to take part in receiving the visitors. The count met the guests and saw them off, inviting them all to dinner.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:57:56
sage
Чего?

Долларов, милая. Долларов.

Значит, я поеду на твои?

Зачем? Ты к этому времени уже будешь состоятельной женщиной. Ты должна успеть продать квартиру.

Мне что, брать такие огромные деньги с собой?!

Нет, зачем же. Спрячь пока на даче.

Он же грозится ее спалить!

Пугает, уверенно сказала Регина. Что он, дурак? В любом случае, когда я за тобой заеду, ты возьмешь эти деньги, и мы их перепрячем. Я посоветуюсь с Антоном и найду надежный банк. Ты же не собираешься возвращаться к мужу? Ведь так?

Не собираюсь, кивнула Алиса.

Значит, мы договорились? Потерпи еще несколько дней и тайно готовься к отъезду. Некоторые вещи ты перевезешь к одной моей хорошей знакомой. У нее же можно будет пожить первое время, пока не определишься с жильем.

А сколько может стоить квартира бабы Любы? осторожно спрашивает Алиса.

Двухкомнатная в центре Москвы? Такой огромной площади? Да из нее при желании такую конфетку можно сделать! Не переживай: покупатели найдутся. Причем мгновенно. Ты сделаешь себе новые документы, купишь новую квартиру в новом районе, и еще деньги останутся. Положишь их в банк и будешь жить на проценты припеваючи и без своего Арсения, раз он оказался такой урод. Еще и ребенка родишь от хорошего мужика.

А работу я найду?

Мы все устроим. На то я тебе и лучшая подруга. Ведь так?

Да. Спасибо, Багира!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:58:03

Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:58:11
sage
У Алисы словно гора с плеч свалилась! В самом деле у проблемы есть решение! Надо только все обдумать хорошенько. Как следует все обдумать

Регина же вечером готовится к бою. Антона придется на неделю оставить одного, а ему это не слишком нравится. Первым делом она отсылает Алешку ночевать к ее родителям. Потом, мурлыкая под нос модную песенку, Регина наносит свежий макияж, на этот раз вечерний. Мужу ничего объяснять не придется. Внимательно оглядев жену, он спрашивает только:

А где сын?

Поехал ночевать к бабушке.

Понятно.

За годы совместной жизни эту культурную программу он выучил наизусть, благо жена следует раз и навсегда установленным правилам. Сначала ужин при свечах, Регина, как всегда, великолепна. Бокал легкого вина, кусок семги под белым соусом, салат по-гречески, [дорогой, тебе понравилось?k. Потом постель. Регина потрясающа. Как всегда. Серия долгих поцелуев, которые становятся все горячее и горячее, ее осторожные руки опускаются все ниже и ниже, незаметно снятая одежда, ее направляющие движения, краткий восторг, чтобы он успел почувствовать себя настоящим мужчиной, и неизменное [дорогой, тебе понравилось?k.

Когда она возвращается из ванной, он послушно подставляет плечо, куда удобно ложится черноволосая головка жены. Ее короткая стрижка безупречна, волосок к волоску.

Ну, теперь поговорим.

О чем, дорогой?

А о чем бы ты хотела?

Об Алисе.

На мгновение ей кажется, что плечо мужа напряглось. В чем дело? Нет, снова расслабился. И Регина продолжает уверенно:

Да, об Алисе.

А что с ней такое?

Ее муж оказался самой настоящей скотиной.

Да что ты?

Он ей даже угрожает! Хочет убить. Ей нужно уехать из города на какое-то время. Алешка уже взрослый, он отправляется в спортивный лагерь на юг. Последнее время он делает успехи в большом теннисе. Я же хочу поехать туда на машине. С Алисой.

Его плечо расслабленно, Регина уже чувствует полное согласие. Значит, можно продолжать.

Дорого-ой? Ты как?

Что ж, конечно, поезжай.

Мне понадобятся деньги, дорогой.

Хорошо, возьми.

Тысячи две-три долларов. А лучше четыре. Да. Мне нужно четыре тысячи долларов.

Так много?

Вот теперь его плечо точно напряглось. Регина в недоумении.

Ты же сам спрашивал утром, не нужны ли мне деньги.

Я не думал, что речь пойдет о такой большой сумме.

Большой? Ты сказал [большойk? Антоша, у тебя какие-то проблемы?

А ты хочешь об этом знать?

Я не уверена.

Тогда помолчи.

Она тщательно обдумывает слова мужа. Что ж, этого следовало ожидать. У бизнесменов время от времени случаются проблемы, то ОБЭП наедет, то пожарная охрана, то конкуренты начнут совать палки в колеса, то влиятельный клиент нажалуется в соответствующие инстанции, то соучредители затеют раздел имущества. Но Антон первый раз об этом говорит. И первый раз отказывает ей в деньгах. Пусть не напрямую, а вскользь, но отказывает.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:58:25
sage
Мы можем разориться?

Каждый может.

Я могу тебе чем-то помочь?

Помнишь, я открыл на твое имя счет года три назад? Чтобы в случае чего ни ты, ни сын ни в чем не нуждались.

Да. Она старается, чтобы голос не дрогнул. Тогда, три года назад, дела у мужа шли великолепно.

Возможно, мне понадобятся деньги. Потом, когда все утрясется, я тебе их верну.

А что, собственно, случилось?

Будем судиться.

Судиться?

Да. Какое-то время фирма будет стоять. Мне придеться платить сотрудникам минимальную зарплату, чтобы не разбежались, и каким-то образом держаться на плаву.

А какие гарантии, что фирма выживет? напряженным голосом спрашивает Регина.

Никаких.

Антон, я серьезно.

И я. Дорогая, ну кто в наше время может дать надежные гарантии? Так что будь умеренна в своих расходах. И я очень надеюсь, что ты не потратила свои деньги.

Да.

Так я могу на них рассчитывать?

Да.

Регина не может ему признаться в том, что денег на счету давно уже нет. И тем более сказать, куда она их потратила. Она так надеялась, что Антон никогда не вспомнит о них! Господи, ну какие можно придумать расходы, чтобы объяснить отсутствие денег на ее именном счете! Ведь муж всего полтора года назад купил ей новую машину, он же оплачивает расходы на хозяйство, на ребенка. Все эти школы, секции, путевки.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:58:40
"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he called everyone without exception and without the slightest variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table would say: "Well, Dmitri, you&amp;#39;ll see that things are all as they should be? That&amp;#39;s right! The great thing is the serving, that&amp;#39;s it." And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room.

"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess&amp;#39; gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband&amp;#39;s portrait on it.

"I&amp;#39;m quite worn out by these callers. However, I&amp;#39;ll see her and no more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off."
"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he called everyone without exception and without the slightest variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table would say: "Well, Dmitri, you&amp;#39;ll see that things are all as they should be? That&amp;#39;s right! The great thing is the serving, that&amp;#39;s it." And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room.

"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess&amp;#39; gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband&amp;#39;s portrait on it.

"I&amp;#39;m quite worn out by these callers. However, I&amp;#39;ll see her and no more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off."
"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he called everyone without exception and without the slightest variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table would say: "Well, Dmitri, you&amp;#39;ll see that things are all as they should be? That&amp;#39;s right! The great thing is the serving, that&amp;#39;s it." And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room.

"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess&amp;#39; gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband&amp;#39;s portrait on it.

"I&amp;#39;m quite worn out by these callers. However, I&amp;#39;ll see her and no more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off."
"I am very, very grateful to you, mon cher," or "ma chere"- he called everyone without exception and without the slightest variation in his tone, "my dear," whether they were above or below him in rank- "I thank you for myself and for our two dear ones whose name day we are keeping. But mind you come to dinner or I shall be offended, ma chere! On behalf of the whole family I beg you to come, mon cher!" These words he repeated to everyone without exception or variation, and with the same expression on his full, cheerful, clean-shaven face, the same firm pressure of the hand and the same quick, repeated bows. As soon as he had seen a visitor off he returned to one of those who were still in the drawing room, drew a chair toward him or her, and jauntily spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his knees with the air of a man who enjoys life and knows how to live, he swayed to and fro with dignity, offered surmises about the weather, or touched on questions of health, sometimes in Russian and sometimes in very bad but self-confident French; then again, like a man weary but unflinching in the fulfillment of duty, he rose to see some visitors off and, stroking his scanty gray hairs over his bald patch, also asked them to dinner. Sometimes on his way back from the anteroom he would pass through the conservatory and pantry into the large marble dining hall, where tables were being set out for eighty people; and looking at the footmen, who were bringing in silver and china, moving tables, and unfolding damask table linen, he would call Dmitri Vasilevich, a man of good family and the manager of all his affairs, and while looking with pleasure at the enormous table would say: "Well, Dmitri, you&amp;#39;ll see that things are all as they should be? That&amp;#39;s right! The great thing is the serving, that&amp;#39;s it." And with a complacent sigh he would return to the drawing room.

"Marya Lvovna Karagina and her daughter!" announced the countess&amp;#39; gigantic footman in his bass voice, entering the drawing room. The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband&amp;#39;s portrait on it.

"I&amp;#39;m quite worn out by these callers. However, I&amp;#39;ll see her and no more. She is so affected. Ask her in," she said to the footman in a sad voice, as if saying: "Very well, finish me off."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:15

Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:24
>>52613028
A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.

"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... at the Razumovski&amp;#39;s ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma&amp;#39;s health... and Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and celebrated beau of Catherine&amp;#39;s day, Count Bezukhov, and about his illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception.

"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill him!"

"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of Count Bezukhov&amp;#39;s distress some fifteen times.

"That&amp;#39;s what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. "It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible things that he has been expelled by the police."

"You don&amp;#39;t say so!" replied the countess.

"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son sent back to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin&amp;#39;s father managed somehow to get his son&amp;#39;s affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg."

"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess.
A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.

"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... at the Razumovski&amp;#39;s ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma&amp;#39;s health... and Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and celebrated beau of Catherine&amp;#39;s day, Count Bezukhov, and about his illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception.

"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill him!"

"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of Count Bezukhov&amp;#39;s distress some fifteen times.

"That&amp;#39;s what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. "It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible things that he has been expelled by the police."

"You don&amp;#39;t say so!" replied the countess.

"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son sent back to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin&amp;#39;s father managed somehow to get his son&amp;#39;s affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg."

"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess.
A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.

"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... at the Razumovski&amp;#39;s ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma&amp;#39;s health... and Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and celebrated beau of Catherine&amp;#39;s day, Count Bezukhov, and about his illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception.

"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill him!"

"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of Count Bezukhov&amp;#39;s distress some fifteen times.

"That&amp;#39;s what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. "It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible things that he has been expelled by the police."

"You don&amp;#39;t say so!" replied the countess.

"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son sent back to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin&amp;#39;s father managed somehow to get his son&amp;#39;s affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg."

"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess.
A tall, stout, and proud-looking woman, with a round-faced smiling daughter, entered the drawing room, their dresses rustling.

"Dear Countess, what an age... She has been laid up, poor child... at the Razumovski&amp;#39;s ball... and Countess Apraksina... I was so delighted..." came the sounds of animated feminine voices, interrupting one another and mingling with the rustling of dresses and the scraping of chairs. Then one of those conversations began which last out until, at the first pause, the guests rise with a rustle of dresses and say, "I am so delighted... Mamma&amp;#39;s health... and Countess Apraksina... and then, again rustling, pass into the anteroom, put on cloaks or mantles, and drive away. The conversation was on the chief topic of the day: the illness of the wealthy and celebrated beau of Catherine&amp;#39;s day, Count Bezukhov, and about his illegitimate son Pierre, the one who had behaved so improperly at Anna Pavlovna&amp;#39;s reception.

"I am so sorry for the poor count," said the visitor. "He is in such bad health, and now this vexation about his son is enough to kill him!"

"What is that?" asked the countess as if she did not know what the visitor alluded to, though she had already heard about the cause of Count Bezukhov&amp;#39;s distress some fifteen times.

"That&amp;#39;s what comes of a modern education," exclaimed the visitor. "It seems that while he was abroad this young man was allowed to do as he liked, now in Petersburg I hear he has been doing such terrible things that he has been expelled by the police."

"You don&amp;#39;t say so!" replied the countess.

"He chose his friends badly," interposed Anna Mikhaylovna. "Prince Vasili&amp;#39;s son, he, and a certain Dolokhov have, it is said, been up to heaven only knows what! And they have had to suffer for it. Dolokhov has been degraded to the ranks and Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son sent back to Moscow. Anatole Kuragin&amp;#39;s father managed somehow to get his son&amp;#39;s affair hushed up, but even he was ordered out of Petersburg."

"But what have they been up to?" asked the countess.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:31
>>52612803
Что за пафосную ерунду я читаю? Тем более ты, видимо, нихуя меня не понял, я говорил о способности смириться с тем, что ты не можешь изменить. Если можешь - давай, сгорай, делай что должен, это, блять, охуенно, это наполнит твою жизнь смыслом.
Я скорее говорил о том, как люди, скажем, сидят и ненавидят сраное рашкинское быдло. Толку-то его ненавидеть, оно от этого исчезнет куда-то? Ну, если можешь что-то изменить - молодец, иди, меняй, честь тебе и хвала. Если нет, то какой выхлоп от того, что ты своим напалмом себе кресло прожжёшь?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:42
>>52612930
Ничего. В процессе.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:44
>>52613028
"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the policeman on his back!"

"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted the count, dying with laughter.

"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?"

Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing.

"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son who amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite declined: I have my daughters to consider."

"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also is illegitimate."

The visitor made a gesture with her hand.

"I should think he has a score of them."

Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went on in society.

"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril&amp;#39;s reputation.... He has lost count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite."
"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the policeman on his back!"

"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted the count, dying with laughter.

"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?"

Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing.

"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son who amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite declined: I have my daughters to consider."

"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also is illegitimate."

The visitor made a gesture with her hand.

"I should think he has a score of them."

Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went on in society.

"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril&amp;#39;s reputation.... He has lost count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite."
"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the policeman on his back!"

"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted the count, dying with laughter.

"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?"

Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing.

"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son who amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite declined: I have my daughters to consider."

"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also is illegitimate."

The visitor made a gesture with her hand.

"I should think he has a score of them."

Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went on in society.

"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril&amp;#39;s reputation.... He has lost count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite."
"They are regular brigands, especially Dolokhov," replied the visitor. "He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy woman, but there, just fancy! Those three got hold of a bear somewhere, put it in a carriage, and set off with it to visit some actresses! The police tried to interfere, and what did the young men do? They tied a policeman and the bear back to back and put the bear into the Moyka Canal. And there was the bear swimming about with the policeman on his back!"

"What a nice figure the policeman must have cut, my dear!" shouted the count, dying with laughter.

"Oh, how dreadful! How can you laugh at it, Count?"

Yet the ladies themselves could not help laughing.

"It was all they could do to rescue the poor man," continued the visitor. "And to think it is Cyril Vladimirovich Bezukhov&amp;#39;s son who amuses himself in this sensible manner! And he was said to be so well educated and clever. This is all that his foreign education has done for him! I hope that here in Moscow no one will receive him, in spite of his money. They wanted to introduce him to me, but I quite declined: I have my daughters to consider."

"Why do you say this young man is so rich?" asked the countess, turning away from the girls, who at once assumed an air of inattention. "His children are all illegitimate. I think Pierre also is illegitimate."

The visitor made a gesture with her hand.

"I should think he has a score of them."

Princess Anna Mikhaylovna intervened in the conversation, evidently wishing to show her connections and knowledge of what went on in society.

"The fact of the matter is," said she significantly, and also in a half whisper, "everyone knows Count Cyril&amp;#39;s reputation.... He has lost count of his children, but this Pierre was his favorite."

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 17:59:54
мне 24, ей 19. обычно, когда у нас совпадают выходные мы проводим время у меня. накуриваемся, иногда выпиваем, играем во всякую хуиту на геймпадах перед телеком, смотрим кино и очень много ебемся. еще ходим по кафешкам, выставкам, паркам. ходим в гости к друзьяшкам, которые тоже в парах. как-то так.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:00:09
>>52613028
"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man."

"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother&amp;#39;s second cousin. He&amp;#39;s also my Bory&amp;#39;s godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at all to the fact.

"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on some inspection business," remarked the visitor.

"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, hearing how ill he is."

"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that policeman cut!"

And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine with us!" he said.
"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man."

"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother&amp;#39;s second cousin. He&amp;#39;s also my Bory&amp;#39;s godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at all to the fact.

"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on some inspection business," remarked the visitor.

"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, hearing how ill he is."

"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that policeman cut!"

And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine with us!" he said.
"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man."

"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother&amp;#39;s second cousin. He&amp;#39;s also my Bory&amp;#39;s godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at all to the fact.

"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on some inspection business," remarked the visitor.

"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, hearing how ill he is."

"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that policeman cut!"

And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine with us!" he said.
"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man."

"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother&amp;#39;s second cousin. He&amp;#39;s also my Bory&amp;#39;s godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at all to the fact.

"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on some inspection business," remarked the visitor.

"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, hearing how ill he is."

"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that policeman cut!"

And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine with us!" he said.
"How handsome the old man still was only a year ago!" remarked the countess. "I have never seen a handsomer man."

"He is very much altered now," said Anna Mikhaylovna. "Well, as I was saying, Prince Vasili is the next heir through his wife, but the count is very fond of Pierre, looked after his education, and wrote to the Emperor about him; so that in the case of his death- and he is so ill that he may die at any moment, and Dr. Lorrain has come from Petersburg- no one knows who will inherit his immense fortune, Pierre or Prince Vasili. Forty thousand serfs and millions of rubles! I know it all very well for Prince Vasili told me himself. Besides, Cyril Vladimirovich is my mother&amp;#39;s second cousin. He&amp;#39;s also my Bory&amp;#39;s godfather," she added, as if she attached no importance at all to the fact.

"Prince Vasili arrived in Moscow yesterday. I hear he has come on some inspection business," remarked the visitor.

"Yes, but between ourselves," said the princess, that is a pretext. The fact is he has come to see Count Cyril Vladimirovich, hearing how ill he is."

"But do you know, my dear, that was a capital joke," said the count; and seeing that the elder visitor was not listening, he turned to the young ladies. "I can just imagine what a funny figure that policeman cut!"

And as he waved his arms to impersonate the policeman, his portly form again shook with a deep ringing laugh, the laugh of one who always eats well and, in particular, drinks well. "So do come and dine with us!" he said.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:00:15
>>52612815
> согласен, но она пиздец деятельная. Не может и дня спокойно на стуле посидеть. Постоянно чего то добивается. Квартиру/машину сама купила. Ща планы на детей и дачу строит
Хуево быть тобой, анон.
Т.е. тебя тащит существо, которое эволюционно слабее тебя.
Инфа 100%, что ребенок будет не от тебя.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:00:28
>>52610168
Хуй саси

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:00:51
>>52613088
Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they now rose and took their leave. The visitor&amp;#39;s daughter was already smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump rosy-faced boy in a short jacket.

The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in.

"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it is. My dear pet!"

"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her husband.

"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, addressing the mother.

This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her flushed face in the lace of her mother&amp;#39;s mantilla- not paying the least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she produced from the folds of her frock.
Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they now rose and took their leave. The visitor&amp;#39;s daughter was already smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump rosy-faced boy in a short jacket.

The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in.

"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it is. My dear pet!"

"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her husband.

"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, addressing the mother.

This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her flushed face in the lace of her mother&amp;#39;s mantilla- not paying the least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she produced from the folds of her frock.
Silence ensued. The countess looked at her callers, smiling affably, but not concealing the fact that she would not be distressed if they now rose and took their leave. The visitor&amp;#39;s daughter was already smoothing down her dress with an inquiring look at her mother, when suddenly from the next room were heard the footsteps of boys and girls running to the door and the noise of a chair falling over, and a girl of thirteen, hiding something in the folds of her short muslin frock, darted in and stopped short in the middle of the room. It was evident that she had not intended her flight to bring her so far. Behind her in the doorway appeared a student with a crimson coat collar, an officer of the Guards, a girl of fifteen, and a plump rosy-faced boy in a short jacket.

The count jumped up and, swaying from side to side, spread his arms wide and threw them round the little girl who had run in.

"Ah, here she is!" he exclaimed laughing. "My pet, whose name day it is. My dear pet!"

"Ma chere, there is a time for everything," said the countess with feigned severity. "You spoil her, Ilya," she added, turning to her husband.

"How do you do, my dear? I wish you many happy returns of your name day," said the visitor. "What a charming child," she added, addressing the mother.

This black-eyed, wide-mouthed girl, not pretty but full of life- with childish bare shoulders which after her run heaved and shook her bodice, with black curls tossed backward, thin bare arms, little legs in lace-frilled drawers, and feet in low slippers- was just at that charming age when a girl is no longer a child, though the child is not yet a young woman. Escaping from her father she ran to hide her flushed face in the lace of her mother&amp;#39;s mantilla- not paying the least attention to her severe remark- and began to laugh. She laughed, and in fragmentary sentences tried to explain about a doll which she produced from the folds of her frock.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:00:56
>>52610168
> И ответьте, у вас тян как друг или нет?
Ну это наверно нужно жить вместе лет 10, лол.
Я вот с лучшим другом знаком 8 лет, и то не все могу ему рассказать.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:01:02
>>52612889
> к чему-то новому и поможет стать счастливее.
Все прах.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:01:04
>>52613075
Знаешь, какая есть годная психологическая замена <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(148, 52, 167); color: rgb(177, 153, 109);">мизулин</span>ам? При этом ничего тебе не помешает социализироваться и вернуться к прежнему образу жизни.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:01:15

Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:01:35
>>52613088
> мне 24, ей 19.
Говноед.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:01:56

Вайпер, я непонял. Ты что, капчу каждый раз руками вводишь?
И он еще будет учить нас комерции сути b.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:02:26
>>52613149
почему же?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:03:23
>>52610168
Что за косоглазое уебище на пике?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:03:46
>>52613181
Потому что она лет на 5 старше положеного свежему мясу.

ценитель-кун

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:03:59
>>52613181
потому что ему завидно
мне вот тоже завидно, что анон ебет 19-ю. Но называть его за это говноедом?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:04:15
>>52613066
Идиот? Ненависть дает силы же. ДАет силы развиваться. Выковывает из железа сталь. Ну ты понял.
Смирение же есть путь в никуда.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:04:36
>>52613181
Еще и тугодум.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:04:37
>>52613208
Ё, сука, найди эту букву на своей клавиатуре, пидор!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:05:19
>>52610168
Тян есть. Как друг. Обычно говорим про музыку, либо я веду монологи. Секс был. Короче, если нет тянки, то можете не переживать. Описывают отношения красиво, а на деле все не так. Даже секс обман.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:05:26
>>52613259
Я с айпада. Иди найух, натурал.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:05:54
>>52613224
на вкус и цвет товарищя нет

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:06:43
>>52613237
> завидовать говноеду, которому ебет мозг малолетка
Окрестись, бесноватый!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:06:53
>>52613335
блядь, нитуда

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:07:29
>>52613245
сверхчеловек в треде.
Уже порог человечности преодалеле? Или все такоеже мягкотелое говницо как и раньше?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:07:32
QUESTION
Анон, моя тня пилит меня по поводу того, что я играю.
Как быть с этим?
Я понимаю свою вину, ибо слишком часто стал играть, но ... может её подсадить? Или договариться?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:07:55
>>52613245
Кочергин, залогинся.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:08:46
>>52613135
Скажи что за замена?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:08:53
>>52613335
> Так вот теперь сиди и слушай
Високосный год - лучшая песня о любви.
We guardian of heaven
Guard of altitude

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:08:55
>>52613288
Пидр, долгое нажатие на кнопку Е даст Ё. Иди кури имануалы, нуб ебаный!

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:08:58
>>52613351
не все малолетки ебут мозг. Хотя если твоя считает, что ты ей по гроб должен только за ее возраст - это твои проблемы.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:10:23
>>52613450
Обхожусь вообще без кого бы то ни было.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:10:26
>>52613135
Какая? Я не тот с кем ты разговаривал.


Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:10:30
>>52613384
пока нет.
Но от вида трупов и крови блевать не тянет.
Да и физкультура в порядке, как и состояние разума.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:11:23
>>52613245
Лорд ситхов, ето ти?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:12:51
>>52613515
>состояние разума
>в порядке
>Ненависть дает силы же.
Ошибаетесь, пациент.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:13:20
>>52613438
Доброчан.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:13:30
>>52610168

Была тян. Кроме ебли были только походы в какую-нибудь залупу, типа кафешек, ну там ночью еще погулять по городу, и все время таскала меня на озеро или речку (а я этого не люблю). А ебля сама по себе утомительна и ничего особенного в ней нет. Единственное развлечение - поспорить о чем-то, но у неё минимальный кругозор, и вообще спорить нет смысла, потому что она будет до последнего отстаивать самую тупейшую точку зрения, а на требование пруфов просто обижаться и уходить. Игры большинство из них не любит. А по лесу лучше гулять одному, просто приятнее, и никто не завопит через 20 минут, что устала и скучно. Короче, в пизду, профитов никаких вообще.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:13:56
>>52613388
Ёбаная тряпка, ты мужчина или где? Посылай ее сам знаешь куда.
ограничивать твои права она не имеет никакого права. Хочешь играй.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:14:53
>>52613659
> требование пруфов
ВИ АР ВЭЭМ ЭЛИТ
БОРН ТУ КОМПЛИТ
НЕВЕР РЕТРИТ
ВОЕНАЧ ДИВИЖН
С ПРУФОМ ОР БЕЗ
КРАПТОР ВОСКРЕС
ПЕТЯ БАЛБЕС
ВОЕНАЧ ДИВИЖН

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:16:39
>>52613558
Если бы.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:16:44
>>52613515
>пока нет.
хули ты тогда тут делаешь? Пока не научишься полностью подченять себе тело и контралировать боль, съеби и не появляйся, сверхкакашка.
>Но от вида трупов и крови блевать не тянет.
Это о себе каждый африканский негр может сказать, которых десятки миллионов. Сверхчеловек не может быть сверхчеловеком, если ему тождествены миллионы нигров.
>Да и физкультура в порядке, как и состояние разума.
ага, именно это и привело тебя на <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(62, 178, 203); color: rgb(240, 107, 33);">мизулин</span>, где ты споришь с соционечтожествами вроде меня, которых даже замечать не должен?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:18:19
>>52613786
Ему всего 14 лет, не дови на парня.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:18:32
>>52613786
> подченять
> контралировать
Первым сгоришь ты.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:18:54
>>52613712

Поехавший что-ли? Ну вот если пример привести, был спор, она внезапно заявила, что собирается голодать, потому что лечебное голодание - это просто заебись полезно, и даже лечит от рака и спида. Я спросил, что именно тут полезного, и как это должно лечить болезни? Началась хуйня про "я читала, подружка сказала", и про шлаки. Когда я спросил, что такое шлаки, она потерялась. После полутора часов поисков она нашла только какое-то одно исследование, и, не прочитав его, ткнула меня в него. Я же прочитал, и суть исследования сводилась к тому, что голодание помогло контрольной группе из старушек-гипертоников сбросить по 10кг, и немного уменьшить отдышку. При чем тут лечение всех болезней, я так и не понял.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:19:10
>>52613786
Я пытаюсь просвещать анона.
И да, граммар наци уже растопили печи.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:19:15
>>52613859
но ведь я соцоиничтожество, так что мне простительно

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:19:44
сажи раковому треду
скрыл кому я вру, читаю и плачу

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:19:50
>>52613850
ок, что то действительно разошелся.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:19:59
>>52613869
Я про неповторимый стиль ведения дискуссий в вээм, ну и тамошний фольклор в конце вставил

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:21:25
>>52613883
ВЭН ДВОЕЧНИКИ БЕРНС Э ФАЙНАЛ СОЛЮШЕН
ЖЫ ШЫ ЧЕРЕЗ И И ЧЮ ЩЮ ЧЕРЕЗ У
ВЭН МИЛЛИОН БЕРНС ЕГЭ ОПРОТЕСТОВАН
ЛОСТ ФОР ЗЕ УОРЛД ЭНД ЗЕЙ ПЭРИШ ИН ФЛЭЙМС

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:21:57
>>52613888
Никак нет, из тебя можно вырастить сверхчеловека, поэтому тебя будут оче больно наказывать. только и всего.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:23:00
>>52613883
>сверхчеловек
>пытаюсь просвещать
сверхлюди никого не просвещяют
так как тот, кто сам не понял - говно и недостоен. А остальные и сами разберутся.
>граммар наци уже растопили печи
опять пойдете в баню и будете там друг дргуга в попы ебать?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:23:05
>>52610168

>тян
>2ch

Сажаскрыл.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:23:30
>>52614037
А ты быстр.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:24:40
>>52613990
последнему сверхчеловеку, пытавшемуся это сделать, сломал нос за тупость аргуметов и навязчивость попыток.
Так что лучше не надо.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:27:09
>>52610168
Тред не читай @ Сразу отвечай.

Живу с тян семь лет. Общаемся на разные темы, о настроения зависит. Обсуждаем что в мире творится, делюсь с ней интересными и достойными внимания темами, изучаем Веды и толкования, иногда смотрим фильмы вместе, няшимся и ебемся при каждом удобном случае, неделя месячного цикла = неделя минетов, упарываемся иногда, ходим к моим друзьям в гости, к своим подругам она ездит пару раз в год. Попка упругая, сисечки маленькие, волосы длинные, рост высокий, идеал...

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:28:03
>>52614201
> изучаем Веды и толкования
Пиздец, приехали.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:29:16
Есть тян. Вместе упарываемся, и играем в группе (второе редко, т.к., блять, всё время хоть кто-нибудь да не может, когда другие могут), смотрим мультики и кино (иногда, я не очень люблю кино), играем в денди\сегу. Встречаемся раз в неделю где-то, т.к. она живёт за городом. Мы друзья. Проблема только в том, что она иногда хочет что-то делать, типа гулять, или вроде того, а я - лошара-домосед, люблю посидеть дома. Ну и вообще, у неё ещё очень много связи с реальностью, а я-то опытный психонавт, понимаю, что всё - иллюзия.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:32:15
Я пыталась быть как с другом, на мой взгляд это счастье если выходит так. У меня не получилось, в последних отношениях(три года вместе жили), видимо, потому, что кун был неопытным, в отношениях, помешанным на ненависти к женщинам битордом(его мама и сестра просто мучили и унижали его все детство). Сестра проституткой была, как он мне в конце отношений расказал, старшая сестра, а мать всю жизнь терпела алкаша-мужа(его отца) и его побои. Это все он очень долго и удачно скрывал. Потом когда начало вылезать наружу, много терпела всякого говна, думала, ну он же не такой еблан, на <span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% rgb(114, 38, 165); color: rgb(105, 138, 10);">мизулин</span>е сидел, даже к психологам пошли, но он их траллировал как и меня. Теперь выгнала на мороз, даже поебалась уже с другим, пиздец такому говну верность хранила, теперь понимаю, что была лохом и пидрилой. Он мне писал потом много, везде заблочила, даже мамке моей писал и звонил. Пусть пиздит себя и врет себе, я ему больше не позволю, свое говно в мою голову забивать. Многие могут узнать тут меня, я из этих "болтливых" видимо. Самое интересное, что познакомившись с ним, у меня была учеба бюджет, работа годная а с ним постепенно все стало скатываться в пизду, потому, что будь он другом, он бы не подставлял, а подставляя ломал во мне личность, забирал мое время и силы, как духовные так и физические. С ним у меня опять возниклы панические атаки, которые были в школе, когда травили. Давал почти всегда тупые советы, которые могли меня лишить диплома, например. Никому такого не пожелаю. Разве, что шлюхам, которые пытались его выебать, думали раз я с ним, наверное он супер-кун, а он был готов ебать любую наркоманку-ниггершу-барыгу-спидозную шлюху со сходок(может и ебал, я не в курсе). А нет, ошиблись ТПшки. Понимаю, что тут сидят, в основном, говноеды, жрут, что им подадут фелосафы уровня бэ. Я верю, что не все такие. Читая тред вижу это. Просто меньше жрите говна и больше смотрите вокруг себя. Счастье возможно только в любви, а любовь это дружба, интересы общие, доверие, поддержка, верность и взаимная притягательность. А не ебля мозгов и ненависть с побоями. Думаю, что это было мне уроком, что я недостаточно любила себя, раз позволяла, такому говну быть рядом и вешать мне лапшу на уши. Сейчас иногда страшно, что так будет поступать кто-то еще со мной. Это хуже чем трваля в школе, когда человек, которому ты все отдал и во всем доверился, да еще с борды, делает с тобой то, что не делали даже гопники одноклассники. Добра тем у кого дружба переплетается с любовью, счастья вам.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:33:45
>>52614387
Пошла нахуй, шлюха.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:34:44
>>52612126
Никто не шебуршит, думаю.
С чего вы взяли вообще, что она изменяет? Потому что на апачане сказали, что все тни шлюхи и не нужны, а вы за ними и повторяете? Если я как-то не изменяю, почему она должна?

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:37:50
>>52614473
Это же говноеды так считают. Успокаивают свою гнилую двойную мораль.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:40:05
>>52614600
А-а, ну дабл точно не врет. У меня верная тянка.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:40:13
>>52614239
Да, приехали.
Кто-то шпилит в доту, кто-то слушает Сабатон, кто-то создает и крутит оленя, а мы интересуемся древними описаниями.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:43:13
>>52611987
Вангую она уже прыгает на хуйцах тренеров.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 18:53:28
>>52614387
Заведи себе собаку или кота, инфа 100% не предаст. А потом и мужика хорошего найдешь, со временем. Хороших мужчин как и хороших женщин не так уж и много. Я одинок по схожим причинам.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:04:58
>>52611987
Да это же Ульяна! Ебал ее пару недель назад на универсиаде.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:27:50
>>52615530
Да её кто только не ебал.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:33:58
>>52610577

Двачую, вообще не понимаю, как со своей тян можно во что то гамать, и с ней же и ебаться. Это вообще для меня как то противоестественно.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:35:35
>>52610723

Моя такой хуйней занималась, в итоге съебался от нее из за этого. Ну, сама виновата.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:38:18
Смотрим кинцо, едим вкусняшки, она сосет мне писю раз 5 в день ебемся редко, у нее там вечно проблемы в пизде, гуляем по городу, ездим на залив, разводим там костерчик, жарим сосисочки\шашлыки. Вот последний раз когда она ко мне приезжала, очень много времени проводил с её буком, давно обещал его облагородить, он у нее СУПЕР засран, тормозит как ад, даже хард не разбит, 500Гб помойка с системой и всякой поебенью, 3 блядь ебаных браузера и в каждом нужные пароли и закладки. В общем сделал из него конфэтку, она ахуела. Потом нашел у нее алису на ноуте, она прошла всего 6%, в общем "стримил" ей прохождение ирл, дня 4 залипали, ей так понравилось смотреть как я играю, что просто пиздец. Спим пиздец долго, часов по 10+, лол. В общем как то так. Если я к ней приезжаю, то ходим в кино и в другие интересные места, просто в моем городе нихуя нет, так что в основном делаем то о чем я написал выше.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:46:45
>>52614387
Мне всегда казалось, что на б в подавляющем большинстве сидят люди двух типов: омега-задроты вроде того, что ты описала и те, кому нравится абсурд и свобода от навязанных обществом рамок, совершенно независимо от их возраста и статуса. И, что самое печальное, похоже, что первые на бордах становятся только хуже, а вторые - лучше.

Добра, няша.

Чтв 01 Авг 2013 19:47:35
>>52610723 была у меня такая, лол, рассказала всё от начала до настоящего времени. как её изнасиловали в 11, потом как еблась со всякими коммерсами, говнарями, даже в мусарне один раз дала какому-то дежурному когда её туда привели. хуй знает, по моему она была поехавшая.
но главный фейл что мне она так и не дала, лал, мне уже 25 а я так и остался девственнотой - что назывется проебал свой главный шанс в жизни


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