Short humorous stories. Collection of short funny stories

HUMORIC STORIES
(three short and one very short)

AT THE DOCTOR

Work, work little! Work improves health...
-It's impossible, doctor. I feel so bad!
-Then rest. Go, go. And rest. Rest will improve your health.
Well, how can I rest!? What do you have to live on, doctor? What will I live on? I'll die of hunger. What kind of vacation is there if there is no money?
-And you work. Work, work, and you will have money.
-But I can’t work. The disease can lead to complications...
-Oh, you can’t? Well, then take a rest. And there's nothing wrong with that. Rest.
-But I can’t rest...
-Then work!
-I can not. Is ill…
-Oh, sick? Well, then relax, what's the matter!?
- No matter.
-So, I say: work... That's it! How else?

HERMOGENES

Lyovka had his own pets and birds, to which he gave loud nicknames. Rooster Grokhty got his surname because after every “ku-ka-re-ku!” made sounds similar to throat croaking “grr-hh”. In a special notebook he was listed as Pyotr Grokhty. The big gray goose walked for a long time without a name. Lyovka could not find a suitable nickname for him and one day came to his father with a proposal:
-Pa-ap! Let's call the goose...
The father looked up from the sheet of paper, looked at his son over his glasses, calmly put down his pen, turned his son’s back to him and lightly slapped him with his palm, which meant: don’t get impatient. And Lyovka did not take him out. He met his fifth-grader neighbor Vasya Repkin in the yard and asked:
-Vasiok, what great people do you know?
-All kinds.
-And, for example?
-Well, Napoleon.
-No. It won't work. Long.
-How long is it? Dwarf... Shorty! And why do you need it?
-His last name is long... But I need to name the goose.
-Gu-u-sya?
-Vaska stared seriously at Lyovka.
-Hermogenes, do you want some?
-And who is this – Irmagen?
-Well, the king was like that. For a long time. Even before the revolution.
-Before the revolution? – Lyovka put his finger in his nose. - Write it down correctly... In your notebook.
Vasek, like a first grader, wrote on a sheet of paper: “Hermogenes Sh.”
-What is this?
-And that's three. Third, that is. Well, according to Peter the First, Catherine the Second, and Hermogenes the Third. Understood?
-Understood.
And Lyovka immediately updated his nickname, shouting piercingly throughout the yard.
-Irmagen! Irmagen!
-Ha-ha! - the bird responded from the depths of the barn to the owner’s voice.
-I saw it! – Vasek said solemnly and went home, whistling some melody along the way.
Everything would have been fine if Hermogenes had not suddenly disappeared in the spring and only a month later Lyovka saw him with a dozen green-yellow goslings. Lyovka was very surprised and did not lag behind his father, asking:
-Pa-ap! Where did Irmagen get his goslings?
- The goose brought it out.
-Irmagen?
“Magen,” the father answered in the same tone as his son.
-Pa-ap! Why didn’t Grokhty come out? Did the spurs bother him?
-Leave me alone...
Lyovka usually lagged behind when he felt that he was starting to bother his father. Once Vasek Repkin brought Lyovka a puppy. The kid was delighted and immediately asked what his name was.
“I don’t know,” Vasek responded. - He does not speak…
-Then I'll call him. OK?
The puppy was not left without a name. He was given the nickname Giant. For growth. Time passed, but the Giant did not want to grow - he was half the size of Hermogenes. Out of modesty, Lyovka usually called him Great and Giant.
-Well, come here, Giant! Fool. Well, fool, fool - Great.
The giant looked faithfully into his eyes, waved his tail and was not offended by Lyovka’s gentle stream of insults. Suddenly he climbed up hind legs, stood to his full giant height, and then the happy Levka, quite seriously, stretching his hand forward, demanded:
-Giant, stop! Stop, Giant!!
And the Giant stood...

MY PATH IN ART

My father, a kind and sympathetic man, for a long time worked as a mechanic in a village workshop. His thick Charlie Chaplin mustache gleamed ominously with gray and looked very much like a piece of flat anthracite. I didn't really like this detail in his face. But most of all I didn’t like his mechanical profession and his passionate desire to make me into a mechanic like himself. My mother, who experienced the full brunt of my childhood shortcomings, slept and saw me as the great Lobachevsky. Meanwhile, I disappeared with my neighbors and stood for hours over copies of paintings by Surikov, Repin, Bogdanov-Belsky. I was drawn to the world of art. But my parents did not agree to see me as an artist. Therefore, in order to satisfy their ambition, after graduating from school, I decided to enter the department that suited them at Moscow State University with a strange name: Mechanics and Mathematics.
Science fascinated me. As a child, I was distinguished by remarkable abilities, participated in the regional Mathematical Olympiad, wrote a rather lengthy essay on the topic “Rotation of the layers of the ionosphere,” and then took on a large work entitled: “Where does the mathematical series end?” and finally thought about solving the three-body problem. In the latter I was especially attracted by the analogy with three heavenly bodies-The Sun, the Earth and the Moon - and I immediately tried to transfer this analogy, depicting myself, my father and mother in the essay. I immediately decided then that the light of science belongs to me, like the Sun, to mother - moon love to the son, and to the father - a purely material, earthly matter: providing for the family.
Having brilliantly solved the three-body problem, I came to the conclusion that abstract thinking, so necessary for a mathematician, should give a historical impetus to the development of art. To depict the world of people, you don’t need any kind of copying of life, you don’t need paints, but it’s enough to immerse yourself in the world of your own experiences and express it all in the language of formulas, mathematical signs, lines, symbols and geometric shapes. There is no mathematician without imagination, just as there is no artist without mathematics. This is the truth that I then, after long reflection, deeply grasped.
To connect Leonhard Euler with Ivan Pavlov, Freud with Einstein, and Dostoevsky with Galileo - such was my first concern when I crossed the threshold and found myself in the land of art. And before putting the first stroke on the dirty piece of whatman paper left over from my course project, I poured ink into the vast expanse of the Czech crystal tray and turned on the table lamp. Bright light spread throughout the room. The lamp was without its glass lampshade - it was broken by some absentee who was here a week ago, who went to his province without compensating the hostel commandant for the damage caused. What a cheeky fellow! Out of anger, I turned off the lamp and decided that such pictures should be painted only in the dark, because thought and imagination glow only when the visual organ is not distracted by any extraneous interference.
My painting was to be called “Portrait of a Father.” It was his mechanical and mathematical image that rose in my imagination every time I was left in the dark, alone with my experiences. Having adapted the drawing board to the easel, I began painting. Trying to recreate in my memory the appearance of my father, with a hard hand, transformed into an artist’s brush, I made an oval of the face that arose in my imagination. In the next moment, which lasted a fraction of a second, I, seized by an inspired impulse of creativity, applied the details with lightning speed, while trying to capture the most important thing in the appearance of my respected parent. Head of hair. Eyes. Oh, the eyes, directed in triangles into the distance, lay immediately under the dull flicker of shaggy eyebrows made of paragraphs and squiggles. And the nose. The nose, of course, was captured accurately: these are two lines diverging at an angle, surely capable of smelling in the infinite space of the Universe the endless haze of machine oils and diesel fumes.
My excitement was growing. There was a noise in my head, as if from yesterday’s student binge. I realized that another two or three seconds of such inspiration and the portrait would be ready. The most important, most distinctive thing about my father’s appearance is his anthracite mustache. With a lightning-fast and precise jerk, I placed the last stroke on the ancestor’s face - the stroke that indicated a mustache. In the darkness I could not make out which part of the face it was applied to, but it was a precise and well-aimed stroke, brilliant in its coloring of lines and colors. Finally, the last hundredth of a second was spent on depicting the vitality of the face, conveying it in dynamics, in movement. This climax I depicted it with an Archimedean spiral, stretching it diagonally along the contour of the face.
At some last moment, almost imperceptible by reason, I managed to put my signature under the masterpiece and fell exhausted onto the sofa bed. I fell asleep without realizing that I had performed a miracle. And indeed. The morning brought a stream into the room sun rays, in which I contemplated my work, again going into the depths of my imagination and guessing in every line, in every curve the features of my parent. Yes, the power of abstraction in art is great! A month later my name was written in the annals of history visual arts. My first work was included in the international exhibition. Subjectivists exhibition hall gave the picture a high rating, renaming it in the following manner: “Cunning Station on the River Chush.” The abstractionist guide explained to visitors the idea of ​​my painting, finding in the lines the image of high-rise trusses, in the blots - insulators, and in the spirals - the noise of waves of raging Nonsense against the background of high voltage.
I walked like a rooster between the spectators and was glad that they knew nothing about art. Is it possible for a mortal to understand such talent!? After all, it was only to me that the great secrets of every line and every stroke were revealed. It is inaccessible to them, base natures - simpletons, hillbillies. Observing their helpless glances and desire to understand the incomprehensible, I was again and again convinced of the strength of my exceptional individuality and came to the conclusion that only a madhouse gives a person true meaning his existence. And they're just stupid! What do they understand about art? At the end of the vernissage, my colleague, also a modernist, wanted to paint my portrait under the promising title “Youth.” I immediately expressed my deep gratitude to him and said that better portrait I'll order mine from a photographer. How is this, why? At least the mother will know...

THE STORY OF ONE SHOT

And the shot rang out!

Each of us has had a book in our lives that, throughout the entire reading, made us smile, giggle into our fists, choke with laughter, or, disregarding decency, laugh loudly right in public places!

Narine Abgaryan "Manyunya"

Anna, 23 years old, seller in a bookstore:

“Actually, I warmly recommend the entire trilogy about the girl Manyuna! And I’m just about to re-read it myself. This is a pure, unclouded adult nonsense like politics, psychology and some kind of expectations from life! The way everyone should have it, and from which such wonderful adults as the author, Narine Abgaryan, then grow. This book is an excellent vaccination against everything superficial and a reminder that life is nothing if you treat it correctly! "

Favorite quotes:

“Who would dare refuse Ba’s help? No one! Everyone wanted to live.”

“How can I explain to you what they give away for stewed vegetables? Take a school apron, cut it into strips, fill it with chalk and a treble clef. Add D’s in algebra and geometry. Simmer for a day in milk with foam. That’s how sad the stewed vegetables smell and look.”

“To enhance the aroma, Manka sprinkled us with the Wild Berry air freshener. The amber we exuded could have overwhelmed a fully combat-ready company of infantrymen.”

Ilya Ilf and Evgeny Petrov "Golden Calf"

Tatyana, 29 years old, teacher:

“A wonderful book: sparkling, radiant and comprehensive! In many ways superior to the first part of the stories about the “great schemer”. I read it with great pleasure and laughed to tears! The authors’ sense of humor is subtle, without vulgarity, so sincere and kind that you want to re-read the book repeatedly and advise everyone around!”

Favorite quotes:

"Don't hit your bald head on the parquet!"

“In Rio de Janeiro, for example, stolen cars are repainted in a different color. This is done for purely humane reasons - so that the previous owner would not be upset when he sees that a stranger is driving around in his car.”

“You are an interesting person! Everything is fine with you. It’s amazing, with such happiness - and in freedom.”

Douglas Adams "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

Ekaterina, 24 years old, engineer:

"This is my personal No. 1 in humorous literature. An absolutely brilliant work, quotes from which I often talk with friends. It is impossible to retell the content, because it is not easy space adventures crazy heroes - in his book, Douglas Adams reflects on the Meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything Else! A subtle and smart book that pretends to be an entertaining, humorous bestseller, but has many deeper layers. An example of that legendary English humor(and one of its best incarnations, in my opinion)."

Favorite quotes:

“A man who has traveled the length and breadth of the Galaxy, gone through hunger, poverty and deprivation, and still has a towel with him - this is a man with whom you can do business.”

“The main difference between an object that can go bad and an object that can’t go bad is that an object that can’t go bad cannot be repaired if it does go bad.”

“The technology that makes something invisible is so infinitely complex that 999,999,999 times out of a billion it is much easier and more efficient to simply take it and run off with it to an unknown destination.”

And, of course, signature quotes (for those in the know): "Don't Panic!!!" and "42".

Helen Fielding "Bridget Jones's Diary"

Alexandra, 26 years old, technical writer:

“In general, I rarely read books that make you smile and lift your spirits, I prefer all sorts of adventures and gothic fantasy, and there’s no time for smiles... But at one time I was very amused by the book “Bridget Jones’s Diary”: in places I just laughed and read her twice. Including in English. What this book, probably, the whole world knows about: about a not very lucky girl of about thirty, lonely, whose head and life are full of problems and awkward situations with men, parents, overweight etc., who one day decides to start a diary in order to somehow put her life in order. Well, it does!”

Favorite quotes:

“I realized that the secret to losing weight is not to weigh yourself.”

“Being a woman is even worse than being a farmer. There is so much that needs to be fertilized and cleaned up: waxing the hair on the legs; shaving the hair under the arms; plucking the eyebrows; scrubbing the heels with a pumice stone; tinting the regrown hair roots; cleansing the skin with a scrub and moisturizing with cream; acne "disinfect with lotion; file nails; paint eyelashes; massage cellulite; strengthen abdominal muscles with exercises. And this entire labor process must be perfectly organized - if you take a break from it for just a few days, all your efforts will be nullified."

“The need to open your mouth while applying mascara to your eyelashes is a great and inexplicable mystery of nature.”

Sergey Dovlatov "Compromise"

Tatyana, 28 years old, sound engineer:

“From my rather extensive reading experience, almost all of Sergei Dovlatov’s works were and remain the most “smiling.” And first of all, precisely because this smile is not toothy: one, you know, that does not turn into laughter, but no less pleasant for this. Like him he himself said that among his characters there are no good or bad ones, each of them has a little bit of everything mixed in. And with each of them, like with each of us, such ordinary, everyday funny and sad joys happen. "Compromise" (a series of short stories from very different times), I can say without exaggeration, I know it almost by heart and re-read it every time I feel like I lack the spontaneity with which the heroes of these books look at life.”

Favorite quotes:

“A decent person is one who does nasty things without pleasure.”

“A boxing match was shown on Leningrad television. A Negro, black as wax, fought with a blond Pole. The announcer explained: “You can distinguish a Negro boxer by the light blue border on his shorts.”

- At least you wouldn’t lie! Who is this red-haired, fidgety big thing? I saw you from the bus this morning...

- This is not a red-haired, fidgety big thing. This is the metaphysical poet Vladimir Erl. He has this hairstyle...

Irina and Leonid Tyukhtyaev "Zoki and Bada: a guide for children on raising parents"

Tatyana, 35 years old, health worker:

"This wonderful book"for everyone who has ever been a child" I first read in in electronic format about 10 years ago, and recently I bought a paper one, with beautiful illustrations. It is very funny (based on a play on words), kind, easy to read and liked not only by me, but also by my husband and 12-year-old daughter, who actually doesn’t like to read at all. The idea of ​​the book is for adults to learn to understand children better, and for children to understand adults better. This book always lifts my spirits, so I will read it again and again!”

Favorite quotes:

“I’m so tired of you,” Bada groaned, “it would be better if you weren’t here.”

“And there is no one better than us,” objected Mu-odov.

“So, bada, we were with you, are and will be there,” confirmed Mu-odov.

“Good dogs don’t lie on the road, they lie on the sofa.”

“Here you go,” said Bada, “he treated and treated... What, the headache didn’t go away?

“I guess not,” Myu-odov hesitated, “actually, I wanted to find out: here

did your head go away?

Slava Se "Plumber, his cat, wife and other details"

Elena, 27 years old, journalist:

“Very, well, just very funny reading! And by the words “very funny” we should not mean “hee-hee” and “ha-ha”, but a wild guffaw that erupts completely uncontrollably! Therefore, at work, like me, you still read it’s not worth it... Slava Se is like Dovlatov (I’m not afraid of this surname), only closer, not so brilliantly unattainable, and also a little sad, but very lively and understandable. Besides, I don’t remember my father’s notes at all in our literature, especially about his daughters , about little ones, and written so warmly and with such love. Seriously, universal remedy from the blues! And you can read from anywhere."

Favorite quotes:

“Whoever throws away a Christmas tree in January is paranoid. And a pathetic slave of order. A determined owner dries the tree until it becomes crispy.”

“It’s easy to raise two girls. I know how to bark, “Come on, eat!” and “Come on, go to sleep!” I’m good at it. Lyalya is already asleep at the thirteenth chapter. Masha - I don’t know, after the hundredth I fall asleep myself.

I know how to cook sausages, I know where the tights are (I don’t know whose). It’s just the hair... In the mornings, you need to whip up compositions “like a princess” using them and elastic bands. I can only play "woman from Mars".

"We found a kitten. The color is metallic leopard print. Affectionate, with small velvet eggs on the back child size. Responds to the names Kuzya, Tobik, Lena, Petya and Where did you put the remote control. Funny, bites everyone's toes at night. He eats well, went to the potty three times, out of necessity and just out of interest. Smart as Feuchtwanger.

If this is your kitten and you are not indifferent to its fate, add a comment here, and I will post it once a week interesting stories about his personal growth."

Tibor Fischer "Philosophers from the Highway"

Olga, 26 years old, editor:

“The wittiest, kindest and very funny story about a fat and lazy loser philosopher and his disabled partner robbing banks. Moreover, they do it completely by accident, and often unexpectedly for themselves. Luxurious style narratives - in the spirit of a philosophical treatise with subtitles like "A Series common places" and "The train as a way to cover your tracks." About love, friendship, sex, philosophy, logic and bandits: "This is a robbery! Everyone should read it!"

Favorite quotes:

“Themistocles riding around the agora in a chariot drawn by prostitutes... This picture has nothing to do with philosophy. But what is the thought!”

“Other details of the orphanage education are omitted: a priori it was assumed that if this was not hell itself, then one of its branches.”

"And then there's always the morning when you have to get up disgustingly early and go rob five banks in Montpellier."

Georgy Danelia "The toastee drinks to the dregs"

Irina, 36 years old, economist:

“These are the director’s memories - about his childhood, about his films (in particular, “Afonya”, “Mimino”, etc.), about the actors, about the oddities on the set, the history of creating scripts for our favorite comedies. The book cannot be called funny in literally this word is rather ironic. But it definitely lifts the mood!”

Favorite quotes:

"This is not music, this is a tripper." - "Why clap?" - “Because it catches on quickly and is difficult to get rid of.”

“Once in Tashkent I watched on TV Tatyana Lioznova’s film “Seventeen Moments of Spring,” dubbed into Uzbek. There Bormann, when he entered the Fuhrer’s office, threw out his hand and exclaimed: “Salaam alaikum, Hitler-aha!”

“Meet, this is my mother,” I told my new friends. I stood up and offered to drink to her health. Mom said that if I drank less to her health, there would be more of it.”

Igor Guberman "Gariki for every day"

Inna, 29 years old, dentist:

“A collection of short, very apt and vital quatrains. The humor, of course, is more masculine, and this is confirmed by the profanity that occurs, but most of the “gariks” are so truthful that, noticing the imperfections of existence, ourselves and the world around us, they invariably make us smile - they say, "Yes, that's exactly how it is! The book is as funny as it is sad - but I highly recommend reading it!"

Favorite quotes:

Yesterday I ran to get a tooth filled
and I laughed as I ran:
all my life I've been dragging around my future corpse
and cherish it zealously.

An era is upon us,
and in the corner there is a bed,
and when I feel bad with my woman,
I don't care about the era.

Sometimes you wake up like a bird,
winged spring on platoon,
and I want to live and work;
but by breakfast it goes away.

What books will you add to this list?

Did you like the article? Let others rejoice - click on the button of your favorite social network and share interesting news with friends! And we remind you that we will be happy to see you in our groups, where every day we publish not only useful, but also funny. Join us: we

POET

“Mr. Editor,” the visitor told me, looking down at his shoes in embarrassment, “I’m very ashamed that I’m bothering you.” When I think that I am taking away a minute of your precious time, my thoughts plunge into the abyss of gloomy despair... For God's sake, forgive me!

“Nothing, nothing,” I said affectionately, “don’t apologize.”

He sadly hung his head on his chest.

- No, whatever... I know that I worried you. For me, who is not used to being annoying, this is doubly difficult.

- Don’t be shy! I am very happy. Unfortunately, your poems didn’t fit.

- These? Opening his mouth, he looked at me in amazement.

– These poems didn’t fit??!

- Yes Yes. These are the same ones.

– These poems??!! Beginning:


I wish she had a black curl
Scratch every morning
And so that Apollo does not get angry,
Kiss her hair...

These verses, you say, are not suitable?!

“Unfortunately, I must say that these particular poems will not work, and not any others.” Precisely those starting with words:


I wish she had a black lock...

- Why, Mr. Editor? After all, they are good.

- Agree. Personally, I had a lot of fun with them, but... they are not suitable for the magazine.

- Yes, you should read them again!

- But why? After all, I read.

- One more time!

To please the visitor, I read it one more time and expressed admiration with one half of my face and regret with the other that the poems would not be suitable after all.

- Hm... Then allow them... I'll read them! “I wish she had a black lock of hair...” I patiently listened to these verses again, but then said firmly and dryly:

- Poems are not suitable.

- Marvelous. You know what: I’ll leave you the manuscript, and you can read it later. Maybe it will do.

- No, why leave it?!

- Really, I’ll leave it. Would you like to consult someone, eh?

- No need. Keep them with you.

“I’m desperate that I’m taking up a second of your time, but...

- Goodbye!

He left, and I took up the book I was reading before. Having unfolded it, I saw a piece of paper placed between the pages.


“I wish she had a black curl
Scratch every morning
And so that Apollo does not get angry..."

- Oh, damn him! I forgot my nonsense... He will wander around again! Nikolai! Catch up with the man who was with me and give him this paper.

Nikolai rushed after the poet and successfully completed my instructions.

At five o'clock I went home for dinner.

While paying the cab driver, he put his hand in his coat pocket and felt some piece of paper there, which it is not known how it got into his pocket.

He took it out, unfolded it and read:


“I wish she had a black curl
Scratch every morning
And so that Apollo does not get angry,
Kiss her hair..."

Wondering how this thing got into my pocket, I shrugged, threw it on the sidewalk and went to lunch.

When the maid brought in the soup, she hesitated and came up to me and said:

“The chichas cook found a piece of paper with something written on it on the kitchen floor. Maybe it's necessary.

- Show me.

I took the piece of paper and read:


“I wish she had a black lo...”

I don't understand anything! You say in the kitchen, on the floor? The devil knows... Some kind of nightmare!

I tore the strange poems to shreds and sat down to dinner in a foul mood.

- Why are you so thoughtful? - asked the wife.

- I wish she had a black lo... Damn you! It's okay, honey. I'm tired.

During dessert, the doorbell rang in the hall and called me... The doorman stood in the doorway and mysteriously beckoned to me with his finger.

- What's happened?

– Shh... Letter to you! It was ordered to say that from one young lady... That they really hope for you and that you will satisfy their expectations!..

The doorman winked at me in a friendly manner and chuckled into his fist.

Perplexed, I took the letter and examined it. It smelled of perfume, was sealed with pink sealing wax, and when I opened it with a shrug, there was a piece of paper on which was written:


“I would like a black curl for her...”

Everything from the first to the last line.

In a rage, I tore the letter into shreds and threw it on the floor. My wife came forward from behind me and, in ominous silence, picked up several scraps of the letter.

-Who is this from?

- Drop it! This is so... stupid. One very annoying person.

- Yes? And what is it written here?.. Hm... “Kiss”... “every morning”... “black... curl...” Scoundrel!

Pieces of the letter flew into my face. It wasn't particularly painful, but it was annoying.

Since dinner was ruined, I got dressed and, sad, went to wander the streets. At the corner I noticed a boy near me, spinning around at my feet, trying to put something white, folded into a ball, into his coat pocket. I gave him a blow and, gnashing my teeth, ran away.

My soul was sad. After jostling around the noisy streets, I returned home and, on the threshold of the front doors, ran into a nanny who was returning from the cinema with four-year-old Volodya.

- Daddy! – Volodya shouted joyfully. - My uncle held me in his arms! A stranger... gave me a chocolate... gave me a piece of paper... Give it to dad, he says. Daddy, I ate some chocolate and brought you a piece of paper.

“I’ll whip you,” I shouted angrily, tearing out of his hands a piece of paper with the familiar words: “I wish I had a black curl for her...” “You’ll know from me!”

Circus in line

A man performs in front of a huge line in a store: he dances a gypsy dance, he reads poetry, he shows jokes in his face. The people applaud the “people’s” artist without ceasing. Some people began throwing money at his feet. In short, it was a huge success with the public!
Here, with a basket loaded to the brim with groceries, a huge, red-faced woman rolls up to the man and starts screaming at the top of her lungs for the whole hall to hear:
- Yeah, there you are, idiot! And I stare at him - I stare at him all around in vain, but he created a circus here! Disgraces me to the whole world! I told you to do what, huh?
- Get in line...
- Well, I... them... who are in line... and occupy them as best I can...

A city guy will never be the first in the countryside


Having lived for many years in an ordinary village in the Russian outback, my husband considers himself a real rural guy. However, his beloved wife likes to make fun of his former city habits.
Once she said directly in front of guests:
- Yes, you never knew what a cow looked like until you met me!...

And then he said - “Amen!”


An investigator from the district prosecutor's office, interrogating five repeat offenders - robbers who were taken to the hospital with injuries of varying severity, was quite surprised by what he saw.

Who did this to you, citizen robbers?
- You won’t believe it, the boss, they wanted to take the priest, well, the priest, to the gop-stop.
- Well?
- So much for you! We waylaid him, which means...
- Well?
- What are you talking about, that’s all well and good!
- Well?
- Well, they pinned him down in the alley.
- Well?
- Ugh, you prosecutor's wolf!
- But but but.
- In short, I say, throw off the golden cross, you saint.
- Well?
- Wildebeest! He answers, that’s it, he doesn’t say peace, he says, I brought you, but a sword...
- And what's next?
- Then he said - “Amen!”
- Well?
- So much for you! After that “Amen” no one remembers a damn thing!
- Well well...

System administrator SOS


Office, morning... Everyone diligently pretends that they are working, but in reality they are surfing all sorts of “oddnoklassniki” and other sites. Suddenly everyone's internet goes out. We went to the admins - there was no boss... We started looking for admin Andrey, who could fix the Internet.
After a short search we found it. It turned out that Andrey accidentally locked himself in the server room and could not leave. And he turned off the Internet so that people would start looking for him...

Russians can


I recently bought an air bed.
The instructions in a dozen languages ​​say: “Do not use while swimming!!!”
And only in Russian: “When swimming, hold on to the side straps.”

About the cell tower...


In one rather lively village, a cell phone tower was built in order to introduce the sprouts of civilization into this godforsaken corner.
A month later the population submitted collective complaint with several hundred signatures, that everyone began to experience headaches, deterioration in health, depression and all that...
The answer from the director was laconic: “We sympathize with your illnesses. But prepare for the worst - we will turn on the connection in a week..."

Decoy as a means of salvation


GIMS (State Inspectorate of Small Boats) is the water equivalent of traffic cops, they just went off the chain last Saturday-Sunday, apparently they also need to get the kids ready for school. Everyone who was on the river was checked and fined for the slightest non-compliance with established requirements. We started checking the boat, and as luck would have it, the man had everything - a first aid kit, documents, repair equipment, license plate number, life jacket...
And then it dawned on the Gimsovite: “Is there a whistle?!” (life jacket according to the rules is equipped with a whistle). The man freezes, the inspectors brighten with joy. And suddenly...
- Eat! There is a whistle!!!
The fisherman was apparently also a hunter - from his belongings in the boat he takes out a decoy that quacks at a duck...
In response to the objections of the Gimsovites, the man snapped that the tone of the whistle was not specified in the rules. He could even carry a flute with him...

Discount for veterans of the Battle of Kulikovo


I have a small scar on my face from a big accident. As for the majority of women, this is a reason for grief more than from the serious injuries received. But sometimes this defect also provides advantages.
I had my eye on a new bedroom, arrived with my daughter and son-in-law and hired a saleswoman. Just kidding, they say, how about discounts - after all, she is a pensioner, a participant in the Battle of Kulikovo. She approaches the director and asks him to give the customer a discount as a participant in the Battle of Kulikovo.
The director, with a very serious expression on his face and without any hint of humor, answers:
- With all due respect to your merits, I cannot lose more than three percent.
My daughter and I look at each other dumbfounded and feel like we’re about to laugh right in our faces. But they won’t understand. We leave the store and ask my son-in-law what this perestroika generation was taught in Ukraine. He is already in defense of the Motherland:
- You, Mom, in Russia, too, with your humor, have the opportunity to run into the same enlightened people.
Positions better education surrendered without a fight a long time ago.

Penetration depth


Yesenin, of course, is good. But…


My parents went to construction teams in their youth. And so, in Vladivostok they happened to talk with a saleswoman in a bookstore. By the way, there was tension with books in our city at that time. So, they stand in a group of students, looking at it, admiring it... And then they see Yesenin’s volume. Next dialogue:
Dad: Wow! You have Yesenin too?!
Saleswoman: Of course! Are you interested? I love him too! Although of course I was already disappointed...
Dad: What's wrong? (naturally, all ears are pricked up, an interesting debate is brewing!)
Saleswoman: Yes, he hasn’t written anything new for 20 years!

Pepper tasting


Yesterday my dad was at the market and sent me for some capsicums. I go up to grandma and ask:
- Hot pepper?
- Son, bitter one, take it!

I'm asking here:
- Can I try it?
- Yes, sure!
I bite off a small piece... Steam almost came out of my ears, my brain exploded from such bitterness! Well, here I think, let me joke, I’ll say that it’s not bitter. I throw it back without showing it, make a stupid face, and say that it’s not bitter. Granny, without thinking for a long time:
- How can that be, I tried it myself! - and bites off half and begins to chew...

Looking at her face, I give up... I turned around and a stool was flying after me, screaming!

Horns from the Caucasus


The story happened to me. We live in the Caucasus. A relative is coming to visit us, and my husband and I decided to give him a gift. We went into a souvenir store, picked out antlers, and asked the girl to pack them, while they went off to another department. We hear the seller shouting throughout the entire store: “Whose horns?” My husband rushes to the counter and shouts: “Mine!”

Everyone laughed for a very long time.

Scarce panties


This story was told to me by my grandmother, who, during the heyday of stagnation, when one of the most popular words was the word “scarcity,” worked in a canteen. One day during a break, when the canteen staff had dined amicably and were having a peaceful, well-fed conversation, an attractive middle-aged man entered the hall and offered everyone to buy a “very scarce product” - knitted panties. Women's and children's, plain and floral. People naturally rushed to buy. They grabbed everything (not for themselves, but for their neighbor), and the trade ended in a matter of minutes.

Grandma (then still a very lively, pretty aunt) was washing dishes at that time and had no idea about the sale. When a breathless waitress rushed into the kitchen and blurted out, “Run quickly into the hall, there’s a guy bringing panties,” she threw off her apron, grabbed the money and asked as she walked: “Who is this guy?” “Tall, in a coat,” the waitress exhaled and began happily looking at the purchases.

The break had ended by then, and two visitors entered the hall. The first one standing was a tall man in gray coat. The grandmother quickly ran up to him, looked back at the second one and (not to look in front of people!) whispered loudly: “Follow me.” The man, of course, was surprised, but obediently followed the pretty woman into the utility room. In the middle of the corridor, grandma turned to him and said:

So show!

What to show? - the man was confused.

Like what? Cowards, of course! And everything you have there...

The dialogue was conducted in front of the manager’s door, who had successfully finished shopping and therefore quickly got involved in the situation. Looking into the face of the absolutely stunned visitor, she began to crawl under the table laughing... The grandmother, caught between the inarticulate mooing of the “salesman” and the barely restrained “sobs” of the manager, finally realized what had happened and began to laugh like crazy.

Poor visitor! He apparently completely lost his appetite and quietly retreated along the wall from the dining room. He was never seen there again...

When a German Shepherd Becomes a Threat for Bandits


My father told a case from practice when he worked as a district police officer. We went out to detain especially dangerous people and took a bunch of people with us. They even took one dog handler with the shepherd Jack. They ring the doorbell and the door opens to the standard “Neighbours downstairs”.
The dog apparently sensed the beginning of a thriller and rushed ahead of all the participants in the operation. The only person blocking her way was the obese local police officer Zhenya from the neighboring district. A huge dog crawled between his legs and rushed into the apartment. However, Zhenya, out of surprise, sat on Jack’s back. So they entered the brothel. District police officer Zhenya, waving his service weapon and uttering heart-rending obscenities, is riding the fearless Jack.
Dad says that he has never seen especially dangerous people cry before. Even the handcuffs were of no use.

How to scare traffic cops


I was driving home yesterday by car. On the way, I bought two bottles of Buratino lemonade in glass. I left the store, climbed into the car, drank a cold drink, and, out of boredom, peeled the labels off the bottles. I slowly start to move away, but I don’t even have time to drive 30 meters before two traffic cops slow me down... You should have seen how their eyes lit up when they saw the glass bottle of “beer” in my hand. They stop me and run, with obvious joy on their faces. They say that drinking alcohol while driving is punishable by a huge fine, then and there...
I tell them that this is not beer at all, but lemonade. One of the traffic cops takes an open bottle and takes a sip. While he is tasting the drink, the second traffic cop takes the bottle and also takes a sip...
The devil pulled me to joke: “I can’t have beer - I have tuberculosis”... You should have seen the expression on their faces!

History is written with a quill pen


I studied at the Krasnodar Military Institute. We had a battalion commander - Colonel Liposky. In the fifth year, we wrote a diploma and, under the guise of writing one, went AWOL from morning until evening, supposedly to the library named after. A. S. Pushkin (central library in Krasnodar) for developing material. After 2 - 3 months, our brave battalion commander realized that there was something wrong smelling here. He built us up, carried out educational work in this regard, that unauthorized absences are bad, etc., etc. And finally, he uttered a phrase that the entire personnel of our brave 1st company “digested” for five minutes (I I remember it verbatim):
- I’ll show you the library named after Felix Edmundovich Pushkin!!! Go to the restaurant "Fisherman Sonya", buy a goose there, tear out a feather from its ass and write fairy tales about Bakhchisarai fountain!!!
The pause was 5 minutes...

Instructions

Remember that one of the main criteria for success, which helps in coming up with jokes and writing funny stories, is whether a person has a sense of humor. Psychologists have long proven that an excellent sense of humor and erudition, as well as mental abilities, are directly proportional. In other words, the smarter a person is, the funnier his jokes can be. But this does not mean that all professors and candidates of science are natural comedians. It is very important that the jokes you come up with make the audience laugh, and not just their immediate author.

To write a funny story, make up or remember funny story from life and, most importantly, be able to present it “tasty”. Humor writers use a whole range of tools for this purpose. expressive means, helping to achieve the desired effect. In the first place among these means is hyperbole - exaggeration of a situation, character trait or property. When hyperbole in a story is used skillfully, it creates something simply stunning. comic effect.

Also use, if appropriate and possible, the technique of litotes, which is the reverse of hyperbole, that is, it is a deliberate understatement of some properties, traits, etc.

Add a literal interpretation to the list of means that can be used when writing a humorous story. catchphrases and other words with figurative meaning, unexpected comparison, listing unrelated objects as homogeneous, using words with figurative and literal meanings in a specific context, etc.

To maintain the reader's intrigue until the end of the story, use a technique such as an unexpected denouement. Do not forget also about the use of various absurdities in the behavior of your heroes. Give their characters or appearance comical features, place them in non-standard situations, call unusual names and give them “speaking” surnames.

Helpful advice

In fact there are a lot various techniques and ways of writing funny stories, everything depends only on the author’s imagination. And, of course, from his extraordinary sense of humor.

Sources:

  • come up with a funny story

Review- an artistic and journalistic genre of literature in which it provides a critical and analytical analysis of another work. The purpose of writing it may be to familiarize future readers with the plot and idea of ​​the work or to develop analytical thinking in the author.

Instructions

Tell the story by dividing story into conventional parts (exposition, plot, development, climax, ending). Indicate what means are used for injection.

Analyze the motives of behavior of the main and side characters. Indicate what mistakes you think they made.

Summarize. Express main idea work that was taken out of the work. Go through the historical times of the author and modern times, answer the question: is something similar possible in our time? How will it be different and how will it be similar?

Video on the topic

You are fond of literature and would like not only to read other people's works, but also to create your own. The closest thing to you is science fiction: you can place a hero in a fictional world, send him into space and create such a tangle of adventures that no reader will be able to tear himself away from your book. However, the form of the story also has its limitations.

Instructions

The first principle is fundamental, it also applies to fantasy in general, not just stories: do not try to outwit the existing one and leave your tormented imagination to the viewer’s judgment. You still can’t escape the world in which you revolve every day, and the same laws will apply in yours. After all, which describes some kind of fictional world or space trip, is intended to point out to people some problems in their real life, must correlate with everyday life, with our world, in which there are no starships, no six-legged people, no stupid giants. Only then will it be art, only then will your story remain in people’s minds.

Immediately think through the plot and number of characters. A story is not a novel, which can have any number of characters, several plot lines and a time span of several decades. Develop one or two if possible storylines, pay more attention to the main character and his immediate environment. Be prepared for the fact that you will most likely be able to uncover more than a complex of problems an entire era, but a few particular points, which, however, may not lose importance because of this. Remember: brevity is the sister of talent, and you can say more in one a short story than in the whole thousand-page book.

Don't overload the reader with the details of your fantasy reality. Don't get him caught up in the twists and turns of the plot. Don't overwhelm me with flat jokes. Do not imitate someone under any circumstances: in science fiction this is immediately noticeable and is not encouraged by anyone. Science fiction is a popular direction. Here you can give free rein to your imagination and do without actual knowledge. real world. And an alternative reality inspires people much more than this one. That's why there are a lot of works coming out. Finding your “string” in this sea is very difficult. There is no need to imitate, say, Tolkien, and write about hobbits for the hundredth time. Better come up with something of your own.

Think about the syllable. Science fiction is also, albeit massive in this moment. You need to work not only on the details of the costumes described, but also on your text. No matter how your fictional world, your individual planet, is developed, do not forget to take care of rhetorical figures, beauty and harmony in the construction of sentences, colorfulness and accuracy of epithets, valuable phraseological units and humor. Without all this, your brainchild, no matter how much soul you put into it, will not last long on Olympus of science fiction.

Video on the topic

The short story genre is piece of art small volume, which differs rapid development action and a limited number of characters. Working on such a piece is much more difficult than working on great essay, because in short story Not only every detail of the plot is important, but also the form of the story.