Father with son on winter fishing. The boy asks:
- Dad, why is that guy sitting with his back to the hole?
- Where? Son, this is how he feeds the fish!
1 year ago
[best of the day] [top of the week] [best of the month] [random joke]
If the fisherman sits facing the hole, then he is catching fish, and if his back is, then perhaps he is feeding ...
The queue at the liquor store. A father and son walk by. The boy asks:
- Dad, who are they?
- And this, son, are lazy people who do not want to drive moonshine.
A boy is sitting on a bench in front of the door of the house. A man comes up to him and asks:
- Dad is at home?
- Yes.
The man knocks on the window for a long time, but no one opens it. Then he angrily says to the boy:
- You say that father is at home, then why doesn't he open it?
- I do not know. I don't live here.
The boy drew his father. The father looks at the drawing and says:
- Okay, son, but why is my hair yellow?
- Dad, I didn't find the bald paint!
A father and son are walking down the street past a beer barrel and the son says to his father:
- Dad, look - the men are drinking beer with crayfish!
To which the father replies:
- No, son, they have such faces.
- Man, where are we?
- Fuck you!
Boat captain:
- Gentlemen, we are in Russia!
A man sits, fishes, a submarine emerges. The hatch opens, the captain asks:
- Man, where are we?
- Fuck you!
Boat captain:
- Gentlemen, we are in Russia!
Where were you?
- Fishing.
Why can't you stand on your feet?
- Tired of fishing.
A man sits on the banks of the Nile and catches fish. The heat is terrible, stuffiness, scorching heat, and besides, no fish are caught ... A man sits for an hour, sits for two, but still no fish is caught. Suddenly a crocodile pops up and so sympathetically asks the peasant:
- What, hot?
- Yes...
- Stuffy?
- Yes...
- (with hope ...) Maybe then you will bathe?
Parable.
Dad and son once went to the mountains and the son, hitting a stone, shouted:
- AAAAAAA.
And he hears with surprise:
- AAAAAAA.
The boy asked:
- Who are you?
And he answered:
- Who are you?
Angry at this answer, the boy shouts:
- You're a fool!
And he answered:
- You're a fool!
The boy asks his father:
- What's happening?
The father smiled and said:
- Listen to me carefully.
The father cries out:
- I respect you!
To him in reply:
- I respect you!
- You are the best.
They answer him:
- You are the best.
- You see, son? I am the best and I am respected. You are an idiot.
Summer. Heat. A man rides a bike uphill. I went up to the very top, and there was a bridge, and a fisherman was standing in the middle, fishing. He approaches the fisherman, slowly, and asks:
- What, man, do you fish?
The answer is silence. He again:
- Hey man, are you fishing?
Silence again.
- Hey, do you fish?
Silence. The man spat and drove on. Downhill. With the wind. He went down already, suddenly from behind someone calls him. He turns around: there is a fisherman waving his hands at something. Man hands to feet and back. He barely climbed the mountain, he was terribly tired. The fisherman asks him:
- What, man, do you ride a bike?
A fisherman sits and catches fish in winter. Freezing.
Another fisherman passes by and asks:
- Man, what are you doing? It's so cold outside, and you're without a hat.
- Yeah, I was sitting like this yesterday in a hat, they offered me a drink, but I didn’t hear.
Dad, why is McDonald's closed?
- There are technical problems, son.
- Dad, when will it open?
- After troubleshooting, son.
- When is that, dad?
- After the revolution, son.
Vovochka comes from school, his father asks him:
- Why so late?
- Transferred the old woman across the street.
- Well done, here's some candy for you. The next day Little Johnny comes with a friend.
- Dad, Vaska and I were taking old women across the street.
- Well done, here's some candy for you. The next day, Vovochka leads half the class.
- Dad, the guys and I were arguing with the old lady across the street.
- Why so many people?
The old woman resisted.
Two people go fishing. One says:
- Why are you so sad?
- Yes, you know, it was my wedding anniversary, and
totally forgot.
He reassures:
- Don't worry like that. Do you remember, for example, the date
when was the first time you hooked a fish?
- Of course I remember.
- Well, the fish don't remember.
A guest of the city enters a restaurant somewhere in Baku. Orders fish.
The waiter brings him fish. He's asking:
- Why such a crooked fish?
“Sorry, darling, we paid money on pavarot!”
Summer. Roasting. A man is sitting fishing and staring at the float, a crocodile swims by. Seeing the fisherman, looks at him. A minute later he asks:
- What, the man, does not peck?
The man answers:
- Not.
Crocodile, with hope in his voice:
“Maybe you can take a bath then?”
A father and son are walking down the street. Father buys a cup of beer and drinks.
My son says:
- Dad, buy some ice cream.
- Are you stunned or something, beer with ice cream?!
The little son runs into the room to his mother and cries bitterly.
Mother:
- Son, why are you crying???
Son, through tears:
- Dad and I were fishing, dad caught a big fish, and when he pulled out the fishing line, the line broke and the fish swam away ...
Mom smiling:
- Nu, so and that here cry, son?! . . You are already an adult boy and should understand that in such situations you should not cry, but laugh!
- So I laughed!
In the middle of the lake, a man is sitting in a boat, fishing. He sits for a long time ... does not peck.
“God,” the peasant pleaded, “send me at least one big fish!”
Tiger shark emerges:
- Well?
Dad! What is a bandit? the boy asks his father.
- Well, how would you explain it more intelligibly? - says the father. - Do you remember how I came home yesterday at three o'clock in the morning?!
- I remember!
- And who attacked me then?
- Mom with grandmother, with a mop!
- This, son, is a bandit formation.
The boy asks:
- What, grandpa, do your legs hurt?
- Yes, son, they hurt.
- Probably, grandpa, when he was little, did he give way to everyone?
Returning home a little earlier, his father finds Vovochka making love to a classmate. In the evening he asks him:
- Isn't it too early, son?
- Yes, no, dad, everything is fine, I made it, so did she.
Father, mother and son are coming. Suddenly they see an unsightly picture, two dogs copulate. Mom hurried to cover her son's eyes with her palm, and dad began to explain:
- Son, that dog behind is tense, and the dog in front is relaxed, understand?
- Understood!
They go further, their parents are worried, but what did the son understand. . .
- Son, - asks the father - just now we saw two dogs, what do you understand?
- Dad, this is how things are in our life, you just have to relax, you will immediately be like a dog! ! !
I'm on the bus. A mother sits next to her with her son (a boy of five years old). The following dialogue takes place between them:
C: Mom, why do people grow up?
M: Well, that's how life works. You will grow up too.
S: But I don't want to become an adult.
M: Being an adult is very interesting.
S: You can't see it from dad.
Father gives a gift to his son for his birthday:
- Well, here's a guitar for you son!
- Where are the strings?
- Not all at once son. Learn to play the strings later!
As a child, I wanted to be a soldier so much that one day, when my dad and I were fishing, I put a zinc bucket on my head and, for fidelity, secured it under my chin with a handle. Well, like I'm such a soldier in a beautiful new helmet. True, I didn’t see a damn thing, except for my sandals, and the bucket pressed very unpleasantly on my ears, but I was still terribly pleased with my invention. And with a metallic, booming voice, I asked my dad, throwing donks, if they would take me into the army now. Dad was silent for a while, and then he said a bad word, meaning that fishing had come to an end, and began to pull the bucket off me. It was then that I experienced all the hardships of military life: the bucket terribly hit my chin with a handle when dad pulled it up, then it pulled over my head and squeezed my stupid childish skull when trying to pull the handle out.
Dad remembered the cherry pits stuck in my nose not so long ago when I wanted to be like Muslim Magomayev, and said one more bad word. Then he threatened to cut off my nose, and now - the whole head at once. Because all the same, with such a bad head, dad said with an effort, trying to separate us with a bucket, I will not have a normal life. My head, my father's fishing and the Soviet army were saved by a car passing by with pliers in the trunk.
Papa unbent one fastening of the bucket handle with them and freed his stupid offspring. And then he cried for a long time. And in the evening I told about this incident to my uncle, whom I then terribly liked. And, probably, that is why we did not have such love with that uncle.
With age, my craving for metal objects did not decrease, and my brains did not increase. I don’t remember when the first fluorography was done there at school, but it is assumed that the head should already be there and even sometimes work. Then I did not yet know about the existence of gynecologists, so I was afraid of fluorography terribly, just creepy. And so she thought even worse than usual. Entering the office on stiff legs, I saw a terrible-looking structure, consisting of two panels taller than me, between which some kind of rusty toilet chain was stretched. Like, it's forbidden to enter between the panels until the doctor removes the chain. Well, of course, otherwise they will run up without asking, take pictures of themselves and run away ...
In short, the aunt-doctor finally let me inside the shaitan unit, told me what place and how hard to cling to, and dumped me into another room. And I'm alone, I'm cold and scared. And suddenly - choo! Voice from above:
I decided not to resist the Voice and dutifully took this terrible chain into my mouth, which no one knows how many people before me took to the same place. The chain was very tasteless and very cold. Probably, it serves as some kind of X-ray wave transmitter> - I thought, at the same time trying to figure out whether it is necessary to take the whole chain into my mouth or whether I can limit myself to a small fragment of it. Guessing that since the chain is all rusty, it is quite obvious that I will have to push it into myself to the very ringlet, I conscientiously stuffed it into my cheek. After about 15 minutes, when the aunt-doctor was able to speak again, she explained to me that she actually meant a silver chain with a pendant hanging around my neck, but it also turned out well. And she said that she was jealous of the gynecologist to whom I would come for my first examination.
When I told my dad all this, he replied that even after cherry pits he realized that it would be difficult for me to live, but interesting and not boring. And although for several years now I have stopped putting on my head and taking inappropriate objects in my mouth, I really can’t complain about the monotony in my life. What do you want.
Once in a restaurant he was asked:
“Monsieur Descartes, will you order anything else?”
“No, I don’t think so,” replied the philosopher ... and disappeared.
As a child, at first I was a very fat girl, and then they fed me rotten apricots, and I had diarrhea. Three weeks. Devastating. Explosive. Unpredictable. I quickly deflated and became like a sharpei. Rubber, so to speak, Zina. Bitches - then in our country they did not yet sell creams for stretch marks, and from a child my folds began to shine and attracted even more attention. Then the diarrhea ended and the chickenpox started. My folds were covered with pimples and brilliant green. Three days after the onset of the disease, some bitch dermatologist said that I had ringworm and they shaved my head. Immediately after that, two front milk teeth fell out. The boys in the yard called me We're looking for and gave me a black eye.
On the same day, relatives from America came to my mother and offered to sell me for organs.
Adolescence.
I was deprived of my virginity by a rusty pipe of the scum from the factory barracks.
I’m lying, of course, I press pity. Nobody wanted to deprive me of my virginity, although I did everything to run into the guys from the factory barracks. I put on red underwear and went for walks in abandoned wastelands where local outcasts hung out. After my first appearance next to the fire, the main part of these outcasts became deeply religious people - I suffered greatly from acne, and the lipstick that I put on my lips to lure the rapist was smeared to the ears. The flame of the fire effectively emphasized my charm - the leader of the outcasts even crap (he later had a nickname Srach in the psychiatric hospital). Bitches, gave birth to a complex in me.
Adolescence ended at the age of 14. The fizruk got drunk, covered my face with a rag and fucked me, saying:
- God forgive me, they say it helps with acne.
Did not help.
Youth.
I studied to be a painter, and he was a fitter. We met in the corridor, and my heart beat faster, and the sphincter contracted from the rush of feelings. He had rich gold teeth and a moped, and I was just a chick from a painting course.
At the New Year's disco, I invited him to dance: it was dark, and he agreed. I was in seventh heaven! My happiness was shattered on color music: the damn lamp lit up my longed-for smile. He asked me to go to the bathroom and didn't come back.
I realized that I was deeply in love: either he or no one. I already had nobody, now I needed him. I sat in ambush in the corridor - he began to skip lectures, I began to be on duty in his entrance - the neighbors chipped in code lock and ordered the janitor to shoot salt at a girl with an ass-like face. I began to write letters to him - he thought of another woman, and they began to meet.
My heart was broken. I couldn't live without this dude. It became the meaning of my life. I was preparing to commit suicide at his wedding.
At the spring disco, everyone got drunk and went to a nearby park to puke on nature. Two hours later, my idol lay in his underpants, legs spread wide, and slept next to the hairy ass of a classmate. His brown eggs fell out of stale families, a small swarm of spring flies flew over them.
How wonderful he was!
A month later, he poisoned himself with industrial alcohol, and I fell in love with a Trudovik.
- Dunya, do you want to take part in the play?
I almost died of happiness right in the office of a physicist who led a school theater group and prepared a performance for the fiftieth anniversary of Victory Day.
- We need a mother of a soldier, you just look like a sad old woman, and we will make scars from fascist tortures from your acne. Rehearsal tomorrow.
In the scene, I did not have a single word: according to the script, a dead soldier was brought into the hut, and his mother (that is, I) bent over him in grief. At this time, disturbing music sounded from the accordion of the fizruk, and the fizika in a dress made of curtains read a poem about mother's grief. At rehearsals, I fell in love with my son: the physicist insisted on emotional contact, the son insisted on changing his mother. I decided to conquer him with acting - at night I rehearsed grief while standing over my sleeping stepfather, my stepfather, who woke up at the wrong time, overdid it, then complained to his mother that they were putting on a play about ghouls at school and put a lock on the door to their bedroom. The physicist noted my acting successes, the soldier noted my gloomy determination and became afraid.
On the day of the performance, I asked the physicist for permission to enhance the scene with a motherly kiss. The physicist was touched and we developed the kiss scene by falling on the soldier’s chest and silent motherly hugs.
Scene. Hall. They bring in their son. Fizruk begins to play the accordion. The son's corpse senses something was wrong and looks sidelong at his mother in horror... A strangled wheeze of "sssuki!.."; drowning in applause and physical verses.
He then beat me, but this did not save him: anyway, everyone saw how the dead soldier pissed on the stage ...
looked sympathetically, promised to give a bonus "for food"
Slav G. Karaslavov Fishing with dad Chapter one, which tells how dad, uncle Rangel and I decided to become fishermen, what mom said and how we figured out where we would go fishing
It was Sunday. Mount Vitosha cast its first violet shadows on Sofia. The sun was slowly setting behind Liulin, and the windows of neighboring houses were ablaze with a bright red light. Papa and Uncle Rangel were sitting on the balcony playing dice. As I remember myself, and I will soon be nine years old, every Sunday evening, and sometimes Saturday, they sat down together at the table, put a game board in front of them and, drinking coffee, clicked their knuckles until my mother, angry, began swear. Then they moved into the living room, where my mother and Aunt Maria chatted about new dresses, pies and cooking, which did not interest me in the least. I preferred to follow the dice game.
True, that day the game was not very interesting. Dad had caught a cold, and now he was surrounded by a thick warming compress.
Five and five! Uncle Rangel announced. - How did you manage to catch a cold in June?
I slept in a draft, - dad answered quietly, stirring the bones. - It blew me away.
We are sissies, I tell you, we lack hardening ... - Uncle Rangel noticed. - You need to do sports, physical education.
Uncle Rangel is very fond of teaching and speaking. As soon as he comes to us, he immediately starts asking about my behavior. Have I prepared my lessons, and what do I do. Then he will explain how to behave for a long and boring time, and in the end he will give me a chocolate bar. And then he starts a conversation with dad.
Here we have Vitosha! - said Uncle Rangel, not looking at the mountain, which is clearly visible from our windows. - How beautiful, cool it is now ... The air is clean, clean, lush grass is green in the glades ...
Smokers like us, and the mountains will not save! Dad noticed.
I'm not into tourism. But we can't live without sports, that's a fact.
We are too old for sports. It happened when I was young...
Dad was once a boxer. And although he has since had a broken nose, he has not missed a single boxing competition. Moreover, as soon as it comes to sports, dad will certainly begin to remember how formidable he was a boxer, whom he defeated in the ring, but when he met mom, everything went to dust, because mom hates boxing. Just like dice games. Mom listens and laughs. It’s not her, they say, to blame for the fact that dad did not become a famous boxer, but dad’s opponent, who dropped dad off the ropes with one blow. Only this is a completely different story, her dad does not like to touch ...
One time and I was worth something! Was into cycling. I still can't part with my bike.
Uncle Rangel is as much a cyclist as dad is a boxer. As far as I can remember, he either walks or rides a tram. In any case, I have never seen him on a bike.
Seriously, let's figure out what we can do usefully, - Uncle Rangel began again. - Don't talk about tourism. There is nothing to get to the mountains - there is an unimaginable crush in the trams. And on foot...
Why don't we play ping pong? Dad suggested. - And you don’t have to go far, right here in the city, all the pleasures, and you can move until you drop.
Great joy - in the city! Uncle Rangel grimaced contemptuously. - Sport is worth something when it is in the air, it needs space!
They fell silent. Then Uncle Rangel suddenly leaned forward, his eyes lit up.
Boris! he exclaimed. - What if you go fishing? Sun, water, space, air, nature, in a word, plenty of everything!
Dad moved his knuckles to the side, a clear sign that he liked the idea.
And the resolution? he scratched his head.
What other resolution! My son-in-law can easily do without it!
Your son-in-law is a poacher, and you and I are decent people.
Here I must say that Dad and Uncle Rangel are journalists, and that's why they have time for dice.
For your information, my son-in-law is not a poacher at all. Now agricultural cooperatives have their own ponds, and you can fish there as much as you want. You pay fifty stotinki for the whole day, and that's it. For swimming, of course, they do not charge. As soon as we catch fish, our hostesses will prepare such a dish from it ... Have you ever eaten small fish in tomato sauce?
Either the appetizing fish had its effect, or the tomato sauce, but dad suddenly broke into a smile and said cheerfully:
Well, that's an idea! Good!
After that, they quit the game and, much to my mother's surprise, closed themselves together in my father's office. I turned around in the kitchen, stood for a minute or two on the balcony, then, quietly opening the door, went in to them. Usually dad doesn't let me into his office so that I don't disturb him, but this time he didn't pay attention.
Twenty years ago, I walked the entire Slivnitskaya river. That's where the fishing is, a miracle! ..
Dad talks about boxing in exactly the same way, so I don’t really believe in his past fishing exploits.
Before Uncle Rangel lay a sheet of clean paper, and he carefully examined the point of his pencil.
Now we have to make a detailed list. Everything you need must be purchased by Saturday. And on Sunday morning on the road.
Fishing rods! Dad started.
There is! - Uncle Rangel recorded.
Fishing lines. Nylon. And not too thin, otherwise big fish may break.
Don't forget about floats.
Hooks! All kinds of sizes. Let's say five pieces.
It's hard to say how long they sat together, because my mother put me to bed. And when I woke up in the morning, dad was no longer at home.
Mom, will you let me and dad go fishing? I asked.
And how far is your dad going? - Mother remarked contemptuously and then added: - Some kind of nonsense!
Dad returned for dinner. In his hands he carried a long green case. When he solemnly untied it, a collapsible fishing rod appeared from the inside - yellow, varnished, with nickel-plated through-rings and a shiny black reel.
After a while, Uncle Rangel called on the phone. He also bought a fishing rod and line.
From that day on, more and more new things began to appear in our house: hooks in bags, a cage, skeins of multi-colored transparent fishing line, black and white floats. Somewhat later, I discovered a backpack, a Tyrolean hat made of green canvas, special books for storing tied hooks, bus and train schedules, and other wonders.
So my dad and I became fishermen, and at home we only talked about fish, buses, rivers and lakes. The week went by unnoticed. On Saturday, Uncle Rangel showed up again, but to my surprise, the dice game did not resume.
There is a huge pond in Chelopechen, - dad announced. And the bus goes there. I already checked.
And what did you find in it, in that pond? said Uncle Rangel. - Some puddle! Whether business Chepintsy! On the third day, one man dragged five kilograms of carp from there.
Well, your Chepintsy is not a godsend. Or is there a fish bred for you personally?
They may not be bred, but there are a lot of fish there! Uncle Rangel said authoritatively.
Papa silently shrugged his shoulders, and this meant that the Chepintsy got the better of Chelopechene.
So, - said Uncle Rangel, - tomorrow at five in the morning at the last stop of the "deuce". Whoever comes first is waiting.
Will you take me? I asked.
They looked at each other and my dad patted my head.
Let's take it!
Dad and I had a quick dinner and went to bed.
Chapter Two, which tells how my dad and I got up very early and were surprised to find that only fishermen live in Sofia; how we fished all day in the ponds of the Chepinsky cooperative farm and what adventures happened to us
On Sunday, when my dad and I got ready to go fishing, I, probably for the first time in my life, got out of bed at such an early hour. I slept so sweetly, and suddenly someone began to bother me. I felt in my sleep that it was my father. He has such a habit: in order to wake me up sooner, he pinches my nose.
As a child, I wanted to be a soldier so much that one day, when my dad and I were fishing, I put a zinc bucket on my head and, for fidelity, secured it under my chin with a handle. Well, like I'm such a soldier in a beautiful new helmet. True, I didn’t see a damn thing, except for my sandals, and the bucket pressed very unpleasantly on my ears, but I was still terribly pleased with my invention. And with a metallic, booming voice, I asked my dad, throwing donks, if they would take me into the army now. Dad was silent for a while, and then he said a bad word, meaning that fishing had come to an end, and began to pull the bucket off me. It was then that I experienced all the hardships of military life: the bucket terribly hit my chin with a handle when dad pulled it up, then it pulled over my head and squeezed my stupid childish skull when trying to pull the handle out.
Dad remembered the cherry pits stuck in my nose not so long ago when I wanted to be like Muslim Magomayev, and said one more bad word. Then he threatened to cut off my nose, and now - the whole head at once. Because all the same, with such a bad head, dad said with an effort, trying to separate us with a bucket, I will not have a normal life. My head, my father's fishing and the Soviet army were saved by a car passing by with pliers in the trunk.
Papa unbent one fastening of the bucket handle with them and freed his stupid offspring. And then he cried for a long time. And in the evening I told about this incident to my uncle, whom I then terribly liked. And, probably, that is why we did not have such love with that uncle.
With age, my craving for metal objects did not decrease, and my brains did not increase. I don’t remember when the first fluorography was done there at school, but it is assumed that the head should already be there and even sometimes work. Then I did not yet know about the existence of gynecologists, so I was afraid of fluorography terribly, just creepy. And so she thought even worse than usual. Entering the office on stiff legs, I saw a terrible-looking structure, consisting of two panels taller than me, between which some kind of rusty toilet chain was stretched. Like, it's forbidden to enter between the panels until the doctor removes the chain. Well, of course, otherwise they will run up without asking, take pictures of themselves and run away ...
In short, the aunt-doctor finally let me inside the shaitan unit, told me what place and how hard to cling to, and dumped me into another room. And I'm alone, I'm cold and scared. And suddenly - choo! Voice from above:
<Цепочку в рот возьмите!>I decided not to resist the Voice and dutifully took this terrible chain into my mouth, which no one knows how many people before me took to the same place. The chain was very tasteless and very cold. Probably, it serves as some kind of X-ray wave transmitter> - I thought, at the same time trying to figure out whether it is necessary to take the whole chain into my mouth or whether I can limit myself to a small fragment of it. Guessing that since the chain is all rusty, it is quite obvious that I will have to push it into myself to the very ringlet, I conscientiously stuffed it into my cheek. After about 15 minutes, when the aunt-doctor was able to speak again, she explained to me that she actually meant a silver chain with a pendant hanging around my neck, but it also turned out well. And she said that she was jealous of the gynecologist to whom I would come for my first examination.
When I told my dad all this, he replied that even after cherry pits he realized that it would be difficult for me to live, but interesting and not boring. And although for several years now I have stopped putting on my head and taking inappropriate objects in my mouth, I really can’t complain about the monotony in my life. What do you want.