Thursday, 26 July 2007
Thursday, 19 July 2007
Corruption
(To commend belatedly, I severely enjoyed both Jon's and Ted's recent posts.)
More to the point, what do you think about it? Corruption, precisely. Political corruption, to be more exact; or even financial and economic corruption. Of course, this is blatantly a rather personal issue. Which is to say; I'm asking you as people I know for some thoughtful answers. Some would also be inclined to say that it is impossible to answer in principle, because the very crux of the issue deals with a matter of absolute practice. Not many will argue openly that corruption is positive, is (as Summer would say) 'the good'; but then nevertheless I suppose it always remains a private question.
Would you, for example, take a bribe to write/speak favourably of someone? Discredit an opponent illegitimately in order to achieve an end? Pull certain 'connections' in order to not be conscripted into the army, to get into the university of your choice, to find a job that you like?
All these behaviours, ostensibly against moral common sense, how illegitimate are they, really? I'm just asking these questions because I've recently realized how relevant they are. My dad recently wanted me to meet a Privy Councilor to the Thai King, apparently a friend of his; and a former prime minister of Thailand. (Don't underestimate the emphasis of position; his designation, or how I knew him, was exactly -- Privy Councilor). Of course at meetings like these, one must ask oneself -- what for? I had no interest or knowledge in him outside that specific role. Would I be 'corrupt', simply in attending?
Another instance; I was searching for an internship in Hong Kong recently, and my mother told me about an informal network with her employer; my mother's employer had historically sponsored the head of the internship service and I was to refer to my mother's employer as my 'godmother', thereby almost necessitating a location. (Unfortunately, I found out that the application was four months too late). In any case, that also interested me in the 'language' of corruption. Would you manouvre by euphemism, tacit knowledge, referring to people to whom you had little connection, as 'godmother', 'uncle David', and so forth? Or would you rather be sincere, straightforward, and honest?
Would it be 'give me 500 dollars and I'll let you in'? Or rather 'You know, there are procedures for this sort of thing...' followed by appropriate gesture?
Otherwise, as to my daily life, I'm currently reading a massive headknocker called 'Atlas Shrugged' by Ayn Rand, for obviously financial reasons, as anyone visiting http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer?pagename=education_contests_index would know. It deals quite extensively with the political corruption apparently exclusive to Communism. An extremely interesting book, if a little pedagogic and repetitive, not to mention (did I?), MASSIVE. 1,000 pages in small print -- think Lord of the Rings in length, but the tone of an American (I mean AMERICAN) author expounding her conception of the virtues of hardcore (I mean hardcore) capitalism. I have been struggling through its density for three or four weeks now, but am hoping to finish it in sufficiency for HP7.
Otherwise, nothing is happening, as I suppose the nature and length of this post demonstrates exceptionally.
More to the point, what do you think about it? Corruption, precisely. Political corruption, to be more exact; or even financial and economic corruption. Of course, this is blatantly a rather personal issue. Which is to say; I'm asking you as people I know for some thoughtful answers. Some would also be inclined to say that it is impossible to answer in principle, because the very crux of the issue deals with a matter of absolute practice. Not many will argue openly that corruption is positive, is (as Summer would say) 'the good'; but then nevertheless I suppose it always remains a private question.
Would you, for example, take a bribe to write/speak favourably of someone? Discredit an opponent illegitimately in order to achieve an end? Pull certain 'connections' in order to not be conscripted into the army, to get into the university of your choice, to find a job that you like?
All these behaviours, ostensibly against moral common sense, how illegitimate are they, really? I'm just asking these questions because I've recently realized how relevant they are. My dad recently wanted me to meet a Privy Councilor to the Thai King, apparently a friend of his; and a former prime minister of Thailand. (Don't underestimate the emphasis of position; his designation, or how I knew him, was exactly -- Privy Councilor). Of course at meetings like these, one must ask oneself -- what for? I had no interest or knowledge in him outside that specific role. Would I be 'corrupt', simply in attending?
Another instance; I was searching for an internship in Hong Kong recently, and my mother told me about an informal network with her employer; my mother's employer had historically sponsored the head of the internship service and I was to refer to my mother's employer as my 'godmother', thereby almost necessitating a location. (Unfortunately, I found out that the application was four months too late). In any case, that also interested me in the 'language' of corruption. Would you manouvre by euphemism, tacit knowledge, referring to people to whom you had little connection, as 'godmother', 'uncle David', and so forth? Or would you rather be sincere, straightforward, and honest?
Would it be 'give me 500 dollars and I'll let you in'? Or rather 'You know, there are procedures for this sort of thing...' followed by appropriate gesture?
Otherwise, as to my daily life, I'm currently reading a massive headknocker called 'Atlas Shrugged' by Ayn Rand, for obviously financial reasons, as anyone visiting http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer?pagename=education_contests_index would know. It deals quite extensively with the political corruption apparently exclusive to Communism. An extremely interesting book, if a little pedagogic and repetitive, not to mention (did I?), MASSIVE. 1,000 pages in small print -- think Lord of the Rings in length, but the tone of an American (I mean AMERICAN) author expounding her conception of the virtues of hardcore (I mean hardcore) capitalism. I have been struggling through its density for three or four weeks now, but am hoping to finish it in sufficiency for HP7.
Otherwise, nothing is happening, as I suppose the nature and length of this post demonstrates exceptionally.
I am flying to London
Well, eventually I am flying to London for "only" $607. I believe it is going to be fun, and if not I can always satisfy myself by crying and mourning after the trip on the fact I wasted all my savings this summer, and end up killing myself after that.
Besides that I am a boring person, with almost no meaningful life at the moment. I realised it is mentally difficult to work. It is destroying one's desire to live, exist and do. Hopefully, Two weeks outside this madness would save my spirit and soul .
Here are some thoughts I added just now, while at work:
*I hate working at the petrol station.
*I want to stop working at the petrol station.
*There are too many people I'll be happy to torture for a very long time, Spanish Inquisition style. However, I cannot due to to the fact I am a sensible human being who is bounded by the law.
Besides that I am a boring person, with almost no meaningful life at the moment. I realised it is mentally difficult to work. It is destroying one's desire to live, exist and do. Hopefully, Two weeks outside this madness would save my spirit and soul .
Here are some thoughts I added just now, while at work:
*I hate working at the petrol station.
*I want to stop working at the petrol station.
*There are too many people I'll be happy to torture for a very long time, Spanish Inquisition style. However, I cannot due to to the fact I am a sensible human being who is bounded by the law.
Wednesday, 18 July 2007
Tuesday, 17 July 2007
Eventuality
While on a bus with an internal temperature similar to that of Dante's 3rd circle of Hell (probably the inspiration for said work) I chanced upon noticing a single ant scaling the patina of evaporated sweat that clung to the window to my right. The ant was inside the bus, as we were driving along. Many people would, perhaps, think little of this. However, with my famously convoluted mind I forged an idea thusly:
The ant must have been in the vicinity of the bus for the short period of time that it stopped. Furthermore, it must have scaled the wheels, the surface area of which that touches the ground is not much. Furthermore it must have traversed the complexities of the undercarriage to arrive inside the bus itself, before, of course, the bus started to move. It then must have traversed the interior complexities and dangers of the bus to arrive, finally, at that moment where the sun's rays were disrupted by its miniscule body in such a way as to excite my tired eyes with interest.
I came up with the following conclusions:
The likelihood of this happening is rather slim. Perhaps a million to one. But then again, it just reinforces that recently-made yet age-old adage by Terry Pratchett that "million to one chances occur all the time". How beautiful it is to think that the universe is constructed upon such chaos. Chaos that you can't plan for and can't plan against. All fears of mortality fall away impotent when one realises the changeability of what seems to be in perfect order and the deviance of all life's unlikelihoods.
The ant travelled a long way, alone, of its own accord, despite being a naturally gregarious creature. Who knows what led it. In search of food? All that way? What perseverance or stupidity or confusion or spiritual quest led this ant so far?
A tired mind can wend along the strangest thought-paths.
Ants get fucking everywhere.
Apologies for pretence.
By the way, im still in Italy and about to go to Sweden. Hopefully talk to you all soon.
The ant must have been in the vicinity of the bus for the short period of time that it stopped. Furthermore, it must have scaled the wheels, the surface area of which that touches the ground is not much. Furthermore it must have traversed the complexities of the undercarriage to arrive inside the bus itself, before, of course, the bus started to move. It then must have traversed the interior complexities and dangers of the bus to arrive, finally, at that moment where the sun's rays were disrupted by its miniscule body in such a way as to excite my tired eyes with interest.
I came up with the following conclusions:
The likelihood of this happening is rather slim. Perhaps a million to one. But then again, it just reinforces that recently-made yet age-old adage by Terry Pratchett that "million to one chances occur all the time". How beautiful it is to think that the universe is constructed upon such chaos. Chaos that you can't plan for and can't plan against. All fears of mortality fall away impotent when one realises the changeability of what seems to be in perfect order and the deviance of all life's unlikelihoods.
The ant travelled a long way, alone, of its own accord, despite being a naturally gregarious creature. Who knows what led it. In search of food? All that way? What perseverance or stupidity or confusion or spiritual quest led this ant so far?
A tired mind can wend along the strangest thought-paths.
Ants get fucking everywhere.
Apologies for pretence.
By the way, im still in Italy and about to go to Sweden. Hopefully talk to you all soon.
A chance event
This post has no real purpose; in the spirit of 'free association', I sit down to write this, because I have little else to do. I have, as you probably know, borrowed the expression from Freud; I would not, I suspect, have used it, unless I hadn't been reading one of his works very recently. To say that I have read it is, however, an exaggeration; I am currently reading it. To be exact, if you were by any chance wondering, the book is known as "Lectures on Psychoanalysis". It is an interesting book, thus far; I had hoped it would be. I bought it only last week at an antique store, for the decent price of 75 SEK, circa 7,5 Euros.
The first four parts of the book (Introduction, Parapraxes 1,2,3) deals mainly with so called 'parapraxes', which I guess could be translated into something like 'anti-practice'. With this concept, you will be more familiar than you might think. It might happen, as Freud explains, that sometimes, you make a slip of tongue; you mean to say one thing, but what comes out is another. You might make a slip of the pen that, naturally, is the same thing as the previous, but with an obvious difference. You might forget proper names that you know very well of. You might hear things wrongly, see things wrongly, or mislay various items. All of the above, are included in the concept of 'parapraxes'.
Freud deals with this over roughly 80 to a 100 pages, and what he seems to conclude in the end, is that none of these events are chance events. You might think that your slip of tongue was unintentional, that you had no desire or plan to say what you said, but that is, in fact, not true, in most cases. For instance, if someone at out graduation dinner had walked up on stage to hold a speech, and instead of saying that "all of you are nice", he or she would have said "all of you are mice", then there is a good reason to suspect this person for not really liking everyone that much, or maybe, that he or she really likes mice and wishes that everyone were mice.
This, says Freud, is one of the founding principles of psychoanalysis.
I am now on to another section of the book: dream interpretation. I have only read one part, but it already seems a bit more interesting than Introduction and Parapraxes 1,2,3.
Lisa wrote earlier inquiring about futures. I don't know for sure about mine yet, but it seems that things are going to slide, slide in all directions. I was just now discussing the topic with Poléo, and as he said, it would surely be splendid to make a living on obscure art. No one knows what art is, and being an ‘artist’ would allow for all the freedom in the world to be as incredibly bizarre as possible. I would dress in ragged woollen suits, always wear a hat, and smoke too many (I mean too many) cigarettes a day, still being able to defend it all the while with a plain: “I’m an artist you fucker.”
"Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say."
It was said by Thomas Merton, about whom I know very little other than that he was an author.
I have wireless connection at the Petrol Station
Today I found out that I have wireless connection at the petrol station. The unfortunate conclusion from this discovery is that I was working here for a month - bored to death of course - without knowing of its existence.
Regardless, I am happy now, and I am feeling much better today, which is why I am back working.
On Friday I am going with my parents to Kiryat Shmona, where Revelyn and Robby are living. They are flying back to China in two weeks time.
Regardless, I am happy now, and I am feeling much better today, which is why I am back working.
On Friday I am going with my parents to Kiryat Shmona, where Revelyn and Robby are living. They are flying back to China in two weeks time.
Sunday, 15 July 2007
Where is (are, because Andreas thinks is does not make sense) everyone?
I am generally bored at the moment, hence it has been even more boring for a week or so as I had no one to talk to (i.e. among you guys only, obviously).
I was sick since Thursday, with a fever once again. It reached 41 degrees Celsius this time, but as of now it stands around 38 degrees Celsius. I need to go through some examinations soon because of this continuing problem of high fever. I did not sleep since Wednesday night and barely ate since Thursday afternoon. However, as you can see I am feeling better today, and thus can communicate with people once again. Yet, there are no people I wish to communicate with.
Hopefully, my doctor would tell me what is my system's bloody problem, and I will report to you his findings (unless I am going to die beforehand).
I was sick since Thursday, with a fever once again. It reached 41 degrees Celsius this time, but as of now it stands around 38 degrees Celsius. I need to go through some examinations soon because of this continuing problem of high fever. I did not sleep since Wednesday night and barely ate since Thursday afternoon. However, as you can see I am feeling better today, and thus can communicate with people once again. Yet, there are no people I wish to communicate with.
Hopefully, my doctor would tell me what is my system's bloody problem, and I will report to you his findings (unless I am going to die beforehand).
Saturday, 14 July 2007
Futures?
I don't know if this is some kind of taboo subject of ours, it quite much seems so to me after Vasco's grandmother telling him his IB results, Jon going somewhere to forget about them and so on and so forth. But, I'll ask anyways, since it'd be nice to know...
Where are people going next year? I don't care about your grades, really, that's none of my business. But I am interested in where you all are heading...
I'm going to Manchester at least. And so far, I know I'm taking Vasco with me... :)
Where are people going next year? I don't care about your grades, really, that's none of my business. But I am interested in where you all are heading...
I'm going to Manchester at least. And so far, I know I'm taking Vasco with me... :)
Criminal Record - UK
I am officially an idiot now...
I had a luggage overweight for 4 or 5 kilograms. In Portugal it wasn't a Problem, at Leeds BradfuckingFord it was...
So I put as many clothes as I could on myself to avoid paying 15 quid for the overweight.
When i returned to the check in desk the lady asked me:
-Has anyone interfered with your luggage?
-Ya, Someone just put a bomb in it...(I said)
FUCK!!!!
Bib fucking idiotic stupid joke!
Next thing I know there were 3 cops on me reading some bullshit, putting handcufs on me and taking me to a small room.
I was there for an hour where they asked me the most stupis questions like:
What's your race?(I would answer)Are you sure?
Why are you travelling?
Do we want us to ring your parents?
They noted everything down.
Then at the end they told me it would be alright and I could preceed in flying to Dusseldorf, however I have criminal record. Because what I did was a crime, but I wouldn't have to do anything like go to jail or do comunity service or work.
They were actually friendly people, them called me lad and stuff. They said it was routine and something they just had to do yet they understood my situation and said it was alright. Never do it again, them said.
I actually think they were scared of me. Cause when I left with one copper i heard one of them saying:
-Big bloke he was, definetly someone not to fight with...
Najs!!!!!!
I was late for my flight. So while I was being asked the questions someone checked in for me. Morevoer I passed in front of everyone else with the copper who took me, cause i was late. He left me at the gate and said, enjoy your trip and never do it again.
This was all very akward for me, I did not understand the process that was carried out, nor if what they did was actually legal or sensible...I don't know...I just know that I'm really STUPID!
The only thing I was really scared of was to miss my flight.
I drank too much absinth yesterday and nice vodka and german beer, my hangover is so big that i can't think.
Ps: All the above happened with 3 pairs of trousers on me, 8 t-shirts....and Nat's poncho...I know embarassing...I sould have just paid the fucking 15 pounds...Bugger!
I had a luggage overweight for 4 or 5 kilograms. In Portugal it wasn't a Problem, at Leeds BradfuckingFord it was...
So I put as many clothes as I could on myself to avoid paying 15 quid for the overweight.
When i returned to the check in desk the lady asked me:
-Has anyone interfered with your luggage?
-Ya, Someone just put a bomb in it...(I said)
FUCK!!!!
Bib fucking idiotic stupid joke!
Next thing I know there were 3 cops on me reading some bullshit, putting handcufs on me and taking me to a small room.
I was there for an hour where they asked me the most stupis questions like:
What's your race?(I would answer)Are you sure?
Why are you travelling?
Do we want us to ring your parents?
They noted everything down.
Then at the end they told me it would be alright and I could preceed in flying to Dusseldorf, however I have criminal record. Because what I did was a crime, but I wouldn't have to do anything like go to jail or do comunity service or work.
They were actually friendly people, them called me lad and stuff. They said it was routine and something they just had to do yet they understood my situation and said it was alright. Never do it again, them said.
I actually think they were scared of me. Cause when I left with one copper i heard one of them saying:
-Big bloke he was, definetly someone not to fight with...
Najs!!!!!!
I was late for my flight. So while I was being asked the questions someone checked in for me. Morevoer I passed in front of everyone else with the copper who took me, cause i was late. He left me at the gate and said, enjoy your trip and never do it again.
This was all very akward for me, I did not understand the process that was carried out, nor if what they did was actually legal or sensible...I don't know...I just know that I'm really STUPID!
The only thing I was really scared of was to miss my flight.
I drank too much absinth yesterday and nice vodka and german beer, my hangover is so big that i can't think.
Ps: All the above happened with 3 pairs of trousers on me, 8 t-shirts....and Nat's poncho...I know embarassing...I sould have just paid the fucking 15 pounds...Bugger!
Friday, 13 July 2007
Tiësto@Roskilde 2007
"I can't believe this is what Vasco lives like" - Jonathan, in reference to the more than mild partying, at Tiësto - possibly the coolest of the gigs we only saw half of.
Thursday, 12 July 2007
I'm going to Mecca with Xav
But First I'm going to Germany. According to my friend there going to be Parties nearly every single day. Not much of a difference from here then, just that it will be in Dusseldorf. However i can't fucking wait!!!
In Mecca I'm staying at my Mate Freddy C's house. It's like 5 minute walk from the Dam square; for those who know Mecca it's Central as FUCK. I already have a list of 12 coffee shops I shan't miss. First one shall be Popeye's (My mate told me they have the Best Purple haze of the whole of Mecca!!! Grown out!).
I have never met or seen Xav, I have talked to him though by phone and chatted with. He seems alright...But...
...I still can't stop being a bit of theeeeaaa Del Marcos of the Xav is a Twat World.
Whatever. He's gonna be having a card saying Buddah I'm Here so that I know who he is. On the back of the card we're gonna write: "Wanna laugh?! Give me 50 cents and I'll tell you a joke." Then most prolly I'll stand in Dam square with my stoner bling looking like an idiot and hopefully so high that I'll laugh my ass off when I heard the word joke. Maybe we'll make enough money to buy some munchies...
I think i'm gonna loooooooooooove this trip.
In Mecca I'm staying at my Mate Freddy C's house. It's like 5 minute walk from the Dam square; for those who know Mecca it's Central as FUCK. I already have a list of 12 coffee shops I shan't miss. First one shall be Popeye's (My mate told me they have the Best Purple haze of the whole of Mecca!!! Grown out!).
I have never met or seen Xav, I have talked to him though by phone and chatted with. He seems alright...But...
...I still can't stop being a bit of theeeeaaa Del Marcos of the Xav is a Twat World.
Whatever. He's gonna be having a card saying Buddah I'm Here so that I know who he is. On the back of the card we're gonna write: "Wanna laugh?! Give me 50 cents and I'll tell you a joke." Then most prolly I'll stand in Dam square with my stoner bling looking like an idiot and hopefully so high that I'll laugh my ass off when I heard the word joke. Maybe we'll make enough money to buy some munchies...
I think i'm gonna loooooooooooove this trip.
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
Help
Yesterday I told Moshe i had got three jobs. One of them was djing at a party(so i was told by my boss on the phone).
Moshe called me a "fucking ugly idiot" and he said that that wasn't a propper job. I disagreed...But Unfortunately I get it now...
Let me tell you something about my record collection:
-When I was 14 i wanted to dj, went to some parties and played some shit. Decided i needed to buy good records. I went to a record shop in Lisbon and a pretty old gizer(40 years old) had a box with records in it and was talking to the owner. The owner was offering him 1000 euros. For some fortunate reason I offered 1500 euros (Yes it is a lot but fastly amortized). About 30 or 40 records are in there and I have never shown it to anyone. The records are rare and good, I dont know the artists. The old guy told me some were made by him and others were just rare but all of them were immortal songs. They're all in the range of techno maybe some trance. And I only play them at big parties.
So yesterday I got a phonecall from someone i still dont know the name saying that he liked what he saw at a bar a week ago where i played some commercial shit for girls to dance. And that he wanted me to dj at a party. He fixed up a car to pick me up at 1 am at a certain place...
Now this car was a fucking BMW M5 with two tvs on the back of the head supports of the front seats. I couldn't believe it. We drove for like 20 minutes, the driver didnt even say hi or talked to me.
Once we got there..I realised that my concept of party is not the same as my bosse's... It was fuuucking huge then! More than a 1000 people inside a big tent, it was huge! And I had with myself like 10 cds with some commercial bollocks. My boss met me and told me I'd be on in 10 minutes - No fucking way i told him. i need to go get my records. So he talked to the dj who was supposed to finish off the night to replace my shift. He threw me some car keys and told me to come fast.
Yes...it was the M5 key's. Nah...don't have a drivers license, but again it's Portugal. No one really cares whether you have it or not. can you drive? Good, all that matters.
Got my records and came back. I was really nervous cause i hadn't played for such a crowd in years. The guy takes me to this smaller tent where about 20 people could sit and relax. There were mainly girls innit talking to some guys 2 of them were djs. There also was a small table with a metal plate with a pile of blow on it...
No fucking comments.
I ignored it and started sorting the records by BPM's(beats per minute). While I was doing this right at the bottom of the box there was a record in a white thing that said "Gold". Never saw it and never heard it.
My boss came and told me that I was lucky to have the last shift and if i did not do a good job, he would be "angry".
After this i had 5 shots of absynth and sat down.
At like 3:30 this girl comes and sits literally on me and french kisses me til i pushed her away. "You're on, come with me"
I did. The other dj was playing something i didnt like and was in my opinion too heavy. I greeted everyone to mark my presence and then heard on the phones the "gold" record intro, was alright. Put an echo on the other dj's record and slowly fade it to gold.
Then magic fucking happened.
There was this torning brake in the beat that was followed by a rising happy and comfy tune with a heavenly beat that i loved and everyone else loved!!! It was crazy.
From then til 7:30 am I played the records from the collection and some other stuff i had. For two times a guard stopped people from coming to my stand. Everyone seemed to like it. Perhaps it was shit, but everyone might have been too drugged.
Straight after I finished the dj before me offered me 200 euros for the first record i played the "Gold". i said fuck you.
Then, my boss came with an envelope and told me he'd ring me. Got a ride with the driver i didnt know home on the same M5.
----
Djing is easy. You get the beats right, you play the records beat on beat, you fuck around with the faders and knobs, you use some effects if theres is a device for that. But the essence of it, is just pressing a play button.
However you should do it with your own momento. And the records you choose should be appropriate and good. i think I did a good job.
Now... was it worth 200 euros for 3 or 4 hours of pressing play buttons and fucking around with faders? Moreover 200 euros of fucking coke money?!
I feel like shit, i really do and wanna burn that money and I don't think I'll dj again at least not for coke money and not in such an environment as last time.
---
Thank you Moshe you were right - I'm a fucking ugly idiot.
P.s: What to do with the coke money? I feel like shit cause i have it.
Moshe called me a "fucking ugly idiot" and he said that that wasn't a propper job. I disagreed...But Unfortunately I get it now...
Let me tell you something about my record collection:
-When I was 14 i wanted to dj, went to some parties and played some shit. Decided i needed to buy good records. I went to a record shop in Lisbon and a pretty old gizer(40 years old) had a box with records in it and was talking to the owner. The owner was offering him 1000 euros. For some fortunate reason I offered 1500 euros (Yes it is a lot but fastly amortized). About 30 or 40 records are in there and I have never shown it to anyone. The records are rare and good, I dont know the artists. The old guy told me some were made by him and others were just rare but all of them were immortal songs. They're all in the range of techno maybe some trance. And I only play them at big parties.
So yesterday I got a phonecall from someone i still dont know the name saying that he liked what he saw at a bar a week ago where i played some commercial shit for girls to dance. And that he wanted me to dj at a party. He fixed up a car to pick me up at 1 am at a certain place...
Now this car was a fucking BMW M5 with two tvs on the back of the head supports of the front seats. I couldn't believe it. We drove for like 20 minutes, the driver didnt even say hi or talked to me.
Once we got there..I realised that my concept of party is not the same as my bosse's... It was fuuucking huge then! More than a 1000 people inside a big tent, it was huge! And I had with myself like 10 cds with some commercial bollocks. My boss met me and told me I'd be on in 10 minutes - No fucking way i told him. i need to go get my records. So he talked to the dj who was supposed to finish off the night to replace my shift. He threw me some car keys and told me to come fast.
Yes...it was the M5 key's. Nah...don't have a drivers license, but again it's Portugal. No one really cares whether you have it or not. can you drive? Good, all that matters.
Got my records and came back. I was really nervous cause i hadn't played for such a crowd in years. The guy takes me to this smaller tent where about 20 people could sit and relax. There were mainly girls innit talking to some guys 2 of them were djs. There also was a small table with a metal plate with a pile of blow on it...
No fucking comments.
I ignored it and started sorting the records by BPM's(beats per minute). While I was doing this right at the bottom of the box there was a record in a white thing that said "Gold". Never saw it and never heard it.
My boss came and told me that I was lucky to have the last shift and if i did not do a good job, he would be "angry".
After this i had 5 shots of absynth and sat down.
At like 3:30 this girl comes and sits literally on me and french kisses me til i pushed her away. "You're on, come with me"
I did. The other dj was playing something i didnt like and was in my opinion too heavy. I greeted everyone to mark my presence and then heard on the phones the "gold" record intro, was alright. Put an echo on the other dj's record and slowly fade it to gold.
Then magic fucking happened.
There was this torning brake in the beat that was followed by a rising happy and comfy tune with a heavenly beat that i loved and everyone else loved!!! It was crazy.
From then til 7:30 am I played the records from the collection and some other stuff i had. For two times a guard stopped people from coming to my stand. Everyone seemed to like it. Perhaps it was shit, but everyone might have been too drugged.
Straight after I finished the dj before me offered me 200 euros for the first record i played the "Gold". i said fuck you.
Then, my boss came with an envelope and told me he'd ring me. Got a ride with the driver i didnt know home on the same M5.
----
Djing is easy. You get the beats right, you play the records beat on beat, you fuck around with the faders and knobs, you use some effects if theres is a device for that. But the essence of it, is just pressing a play button.
However you should do it with your own momento. And the records you choose should be appropriate and good. i think I did a good job.
Now... was it worth 200 euros for 3 or 4 hours of pressing play buttons and fucking around with faders? Moreover 200 euros of fucking coke money?!
I feel like shit, i really do and wanna burn that money and I don't think I'll dj again at least not for coke money and not in such an environment as last time.
---
Thank you Moshe you were right - I'm a fucking ugly idiot.
P.s: What to do with the coke money? I feel like shit cause i have it.
ze Germanz
Well well well... it's day two of Jon's little getaway trip. A trip to forget IB results, to have fun, to see a little Europe, to find El Dorado, to chase the elusive "Good Pint" all the way from the cold, muddy wastelands of the North to the sweltering smog of the South. I'm currently getting to grips with a German keyboard in a Netcafe in Munich (or München as i discovered it's called in actuality). I kissed Teddy goodbye(figuratively speaking) yesterday at stupid o'clock in the morning, muddy, wet and cold. Since then I have blitzed through Denmark and Hamburg, meeting lots of cool backbackers, fit maltese girls who buy me lots of beer until i tell them how old i am, old german ladies who talk wistfully of the DDR and crazy drunken danes.
I met one German guy on the train who had also been at Roskilde. His opinion of the festival was that there "NOT ENOUGH RAIN! HAHAHAHA! MORE! MORE MUD!! I LIKE VERY MORE! HEEHEEHEE" (imagine this belched by a rotund, black-clothed man in a black leather cowboy hat, opening his second can of Tuborg mid-sentence and knocking it back faster than a Danish plughole). I was recommended by him to visit "ze great 'strippedy barz' HAHAHAH" in Hamburg, but instead found a very agreeable and tall dark glass of Dunkel (sexier by far). There was a market of produce from Stuttgart there too and so at around 8pm i sat down there reading La Reppublica (can you believe they didn't have a decent English paper?) and tried various sorts of Riesling and Bretzel while men in funny outfits serenaded me with accordions and guitars. This fitted PERFECTLY my stereotype of Germany, so i was happy.
I look like a proper hobo. I smell. I'm wearing my only dry clothes after Roskilde, carrying a tiny bag stuffed to the point of supernova and with a guitar tied round my neck with a piece of string. It's a miracle i haven#t been beaten up yet, but, i guess this isn't Portugal, eh? By the way Vasco, i'd love to visit you mate but Portugal isn't on the way from Denmark to Italy, but if you can shift your country a little to the right, then i'll drop by.
My next stop is to try and see if i get arrested by busking in Bologna before carrying on down through any cool cities that take my fancy. The people here may be rude, the weather may be bollocks, I may be coughing like a convulsive rubber duck, my state of hygeine may be post apocalyptic but nothing beats sitting down with a good pint and a map and thinking "where to next? Ljubljana? Bern? Istanbul?".
I'm just going to check the weather and that will most likely decide where i eventually end up. Then maybe check that there is no death-penalty for unlicensed buskers in Italy, for that would be an unfortunate end to this trip.
A post about Roskilde may be forthcoming but as for now i still have to recover. It was rather insane. One of those wonderful, purgingly free insanities. Less than 7 pounds for 18 beers...thats a nice price.
Anyway, if anyone has been trying to contact me during this time i must apologise but my mobile has been out of battery for an insufferably long time. Hence, no pictures sorry. I'll try and get it recharged soon. I was relying on German trains being as sensible as Danish ones, with powersockets next to teh seats but NOOO. "You are now leaving the Nordic Region. Please leave your common sense and modern thinking in the bags provided".
Oh and one last thing. Why did i never learn German? WHYYYYYYY!?
"Post veröffentlichen"? Sure, why not...
I met one German guy on the train who had also been at Roskilde. His opinion of the festival was that there "NOT ENOUGH RAIN! HAHAHAHA! MORE! MORE MUD!! I LIKE VERY MORE! HEEHEEHEE" (imagine this belched by a rotund, black-clothed man in a black leather cowboy hat, opening his second can of Tuborg mid-sentence and knocking it back faster than a Danish plughole). I was recommended by him to visit "ze great 'strippedy barz' HAHAHAH" in Hamburg, but instead found a very agreeable and tall dark glass of Dunkel (sexier by far). There was a market of produce from Stuttgart there too and so at around 8pm i sat down there reading La Reppublica (can you believe they didn't have a decent English paper?) and tried various sorts of Riesling and Bretzel while men in funny outfits serenaded me with accordions and guitars. This fitted PERFECTLY my stereotype of Germany, so i was happy.
I look like a proper hobo. I smell. I'm wearing my only dry clothes after Roskilde, carrying a tiny bag stuffed to the point of supernova and with a guitar tied round my neck with a piece of string. It's a miracle i haven#t been beaten up yet, but, i guess this isn't Portugal, eh? By the way Vasco, i'd love to visit you mate but Portugal isn't on the way from Denmark to Italy, but if you can shift your country a little to the right, then i'll drop by.
My next stop is to try and see if i get arrested by busking in Bologna before carrying on down through any cool cities that take my fancy. The people here may be rude, the weather may be bollocks, I may be coughing like a convulsive rubber duck, my state of hygeine may be post apocalyptic but nothing beats sitting down with a good pint and a map and thinking "where to next? Ljubljana? Bern? Istanbul?".
I'm just going to check the weather and that will most likely decide where i eventually end up. Then maybe check that there is no death-penalty for unlicensed buskers in Italy, for that would be an unfortunate end to this trip.
A post about Roskilde may be forthcoming but as for now i still have to recover. It was rather insane. One of those wonderful, purgingly free insanities. Less than 7 pounds for 18 beers...thats a nice price.
Anyway, if anyone has been trying to contact me during this time i must apologise but my mobile has been out of battery for an insufferably long time. Hence, no pictures sorry. I'll try and get it recharged soon. I was relying on German trains being as sensible as Danish ones, with powersockets next to teh seats but NOOO. "You are now leaving the Nordic Region. Please leave your common sense and modern thinking in the bags provided".
Oh and one last thing. Why did i never learn German? WHYYYYYYY!?
"Post veröffentlichen"? Sure, why not...
Monday, 9 July 2007
My Stoner Bling
For a stylish day:
For a sunny day:
For a rainy day(thanks for the poncho Nat):
For a stony day:
Even the girls liked it!!!
For a sunny day:
For a rainy day(thanks for the poncho Nat):
For a stony day:
Even the girls liked it!!!
Sunday, 8 July 2007
Artistic Shitting
I took the most artistic shit in the whole wide world, something that Reidun would call art!!!
It was multicolor!!! Some parts light brown, some parts black and some parts brownish greenish!!!!
The way it was disposed somewhat made me recall a Monet painting of a garden in autumn.
It was beautiful!!!
It was multicolor!!! Some parts light brown, some parts black and some parts brownish greenish!!!!
The way it was disposed somewhat made me recall a Monet painting of a garden in autumn.
It was beautiful!!!
PORTUGAL IS...
I partied hard as FUCK with my ZERO year today. She's called Maria and she's so damn beautifully gorgeously cute it makes me dizzy! Like a normal Portuguese girl should be ;)
I met her at the uwc meeting, had some white wine. Persuaded her to come with me to my town.
Once arrived we both passed out for 3 hours on my sofas since the night before we both had gone out until dawn. My elder friends arrived, we drank a lot of wine, sangria and nice portuguese home made spirits. Got a ride from one of the friends, his son provided me with some marrocan fresh supplies.
After enjoying them we went to a bar to the party of a friend of mine - it was rocking. At 3 we left to the local disco(2 dancefloors, a 2 chill out areas and a warming up/making out place). I hadn't danced with such fucking joy and joyness and happyness and eagerness since I saw Mr. Carl Cox hitting the decks about 2 years ago.
Maria loved it!!! I loved it too, to be very honest.
Conclusion:
Many parties in one single day. Many different alcoholic drinks consumed, in moderate quantities(obviously). A LOT of Fun had with my zero year.
Goals Achieved:
Sparked up with a girl(I honestly fucking love it), whom was MY ZERO YEAR!!! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH SHE'S GONNA FIT IN FUCKING AWESOME IN FLEKKE FFS!!! She's gonna fucking love it.
Only Filipa left now to spark up with Vasco!!!
I can now confidently say:
Portugal is...gonna be represented by Maria in RCN and I am happy and proud about it.
I love my National committee, Thanks for the white wine! I love Maria, she's a bit of the party animal type. Najs?Ah and she can fucking dance!
Ps.: Met these two people at the UWC meeting one from Malaysia and a Girlf from Kenya. Fucking friendly as chilled fluffy fat cats, we're gonna keep in touch.
I just wish you all would have been here, Oh My God!!!
I met her at the uwc meeting, had some white wine. Persuaded her to come with me to my town.
Once arrived we both passed out for 3 hours on my sofas since the night before we both had gone out until dawn. My elder friends arrived, we drank a lot of wine, sangria and nice portuguese home made spirits. Got a ride from one of the friends, his son provided me with some marrocan fresh supplies.
After enjoying them we went to a bar to the party of a friend of mine - it was rocking. At 3 we left to the local disco(2 dancefloors, a 2 chill out areas and a warming up/making out place). I hadn't danced with such fucking joy and joyness and happyness and eagerness since I saw Mr. Carl Cox hitting the decks about 2 years ago.
Maria loved it!!! I loved it too, to be very honest.
Conclusion:
Many parties in one single day. Many different alcoholic drinks consumed, in moderate quantities(obviously). A LOT of Fun had with my zero year.
Goals Achieved:
Sparked up with a girl(I honestly fucking love it), whom was MY ZERO YEAR!!! AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH SHE'S GONNA FIT IN FUCKING AWESOME IN FLEKKE FFS!!! She's gonna fucking love it.
Only Filipa left now to spark up with Vasco!!!
I can now confidently say:
Portugal is...gonna be represented by Maria in RCN and I am happy and proud about it.
I love my National committee, Thanks for the white wine! I love Maria, she's a bit of the party animal type. Najs?Ah and she can fucking dance!
Ps.: Met these two people at the UWC meeting one from Malaysia and a Girlf from Kenya. Fucking friendly as chilled fluffy fat cats, we're gonna keep in touch.
I just wish you all would have been here, Oh My God!!!
Saturday, 7 July 2007
Inland Empire
I just came back from the cinema.
Please, I urge you all to go to a cinema near you and watch one of the best films I have ever watched -
It is David Lynch's creation in its best.
Confusing, surrealistic, bizarre, mysterious, thrilling, emotional, threatening, existentialist, genuine, luminous, brilliant.
I am still picturing it all in my mind. This film destroyed my abilities to comprehend time, location, fiction and reality. It is still playing with my mind, and I guess it won't let go until tomorrow. My state of mind is still far from being clear.
Go. Watch it and forget for 179 magical minutes the entertainment shite
Perspective
Many of our friends are now in Denmark - in Roskilde. They are enjoying music, alcohol, friends and the atmosphere, just as well as the rain, the mud and the misery. The main enterainment is digging holes, filling them with mud and then sit and wait for someone to fall into it. Lots of people have left already, a few have returned. This is what it looks like, so you know what they're talking about when our friends all come back again...
Here in Hillerød, 20 minutes away from the festival spot, the roads are covered by water. (one meter deep in some places!) Half of the buses are cancelled, just as the train between Hillerød and Allerød (the first stop on the way to Copenhagen). This means I have to spend and extra 30 minutes to get to work.
But, honestly. My problems are nothing compared to the people there. And their problems are nothing compared to other things going on around the globe. Reading Faaez's entry this morning, I came to think about the fact that spending 30 minutes extra on a bus in the morning and being fully registered, legally, in Denmark is not such a big problem at all. The latter is mostly a question of pride.
Everything is really all about perspective, isn't it?
Here in Hillerød, 20 minutes away from the festival spot, the roads are covered by water. (one meter deep in some places!) Half of the buses are cancelled, just as the train between Hillerød and Allerød (the first stop on the way to Copenhagen). This means I have to spend and extra 30 minutes to get to work.
But, honestly. My problems are nothing compared to the people there. And their problems are nothing compared to other things going on around the globe. Reading Faaez's entry this morning, I came to think about the fact that spending 30 minutes extra on a bus in the morning and being fully registered, legally, in Denmark is not such a big problem at all. The latter is mostly a question of pride.
Everything is really all about perspective, isn't it?
Friday, 6 July 2007
Red Islamabad
It's three in the morning and the slight patter of the raindrops on my window is interspersed with sounds of firing and mortar shelling a few kilometers away from where I live.
Islamabad is in a state of stalled shock. We still can't digest all the absurdity of some bigoted idiots and the misfortune that it has brewed in the last few days. Okay, Pakistan has had its fare share of shit but hardly in my eighteen years of life have I ever heard even gunshots, let alone mortar shells, being fired in Islamabad. We had the first ever curfew imposed in the history of the city two days ago. The Islamabad, that usually doesn't lose its cool, seems like a transformed place in just six months.
The most disturbing is the uncertainty of it all: we don't know what to think, who to believe, what to expect; indeed we don't even really know WHY all this is happening in the first place.
It all started a few months ago when a certain Ghazi , leader of the famed(read notorious) Red Mosque started agitating with his band of rowdy extremist students, against what he saw was the rampant immorality and demolishing of a few mosques(which were illegally built on public land) by the city authorities. They burnt CD shops selling porn, kidnapped a brothel owner and what not.
The girls from the seminary(attached to the mosque) took over a children's library by force, wielding batons and kidnapped policemen. It just did not make sense that the government tolerated all that in this case, whereas we had incidents of whole madrassahs, full of children, being blown up by guided missiles on the presumption that there were Taliban inside, in Waziristan, the northwestern part of Pakistan.
Then suddenly one day, while I was at a ceremony, I get a phone call from my father telling me to avoid the route back home through Aabpara, the area where the mosque is. I of course didn't and it was a mayhem there. Smoke bellowing from around the mosque, heavy firing and police, rangers and ambulances all over. Apparently, government forces had besieged the mosque for a few days and then that particular day one of the militants fired at the rangers, killing one. And then an open confrontation ensued.
The standoff has continued for a few days now, killing about 20 people so far, injuring I don’t know how many, and many a comic and sad incidents we have come to see in the process too.
Shit, just now there was a loud blast very close by. They're saying on the TV that it was at this other seminary close to my home. A retaliatory blast they're calling it. It's not clear what it was. Could have been a suicide bomb, could have been not. They don't know yet.[edit=they clarified on TV that it was actually not a suicide bomb. Just another mortar fire at the Red Mosque by the govt. forces]
And that's exactly what we're afraid of. Retaliation. The government forces, sooner or later will for sure wipe these suckers out from this mosque, but what after that? I tried to gauge the mood amongst the mullahs by going to a Friday sermon by one of the more extreme mullahs and it sounded threatening. It seems like they'll look to pay the government back. But I don't know. And that's the bottomline.
The interesting thing about this confrontation however has been the role of the media. Reminds me of Baudrillard's theory about the Gulf War being fought on the TV screen rather than the Gulf itself. As I said earlier, I was surprised how the government could have given these blokes so much leverage in the first place. There are conspiracy theories(which frankly make more sense than the conventional version of truth in this case) going around about how Musharraf tried to exploit the situation to his advantage by taking the action at the time when a)he was losing the case against the Chief Justice he suspended in the Supreme Court BADLY and b) when he desperately needed some stunt that would keep him in office even after the next elections.
I don't know how much of this makes sense, as complicatedly twisted and ugly the whole situation is, but I just needed to banter for a little bit. And that's just what I have done.
I will be off for now. Until later,
BBC's take on the Red Mosque: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/south_asia/6503477.stm
IB
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
how was it?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
nice
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
yours
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
how nice?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
nice enough for manchester let's put it this way
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
;)
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
good
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
yoyu?»
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
good enough for carleton?
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
I can fail for Carleton
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
m8
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
can i share something
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
REAAAAAAALLY personal with you?
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
sure
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
thansk for the Email
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
btw
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
promess you wont inerrupt me
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
please
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
IB results
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
are something you achieve
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
with your own sweat, pain, suffering and HARD work.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
the same with the length of your penis.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
saying how much you got on IB is the same as saying how long your penis is
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
very badly perceived in my opinion
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
being short or long
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it doens't matter
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you still fuck with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you have a wank with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you take a piss with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
dont fucking show off about it!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
ffs!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it really gets on my balls!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it's gone!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
past!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
future is in front of you(with INARA!AHAHAHAH) and it is a good future innit?!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
the moment you saW YOUR RESULTS
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
they're fucking dead m8!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
who the fuck cares?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it seriously wounds the fuck up out of my bloody guts!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
FUCK IT! IT'S GOOD! IT'S ENOUGH! YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD LIFE!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
what the fuck else do you want? A fucking blowjob?!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
(that would be nice actually!)
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
but you get my point!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
don't you m8?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Another personal thing:
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Rememeber that Martini campaign - Martini is...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
It fucked me up the first time i was it, I was young.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
But now, I have lived 18 years, I'm mature. And i can confidently say: Portugal is...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
And it's reaaaally nice to get a feeling of that, you know?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
I mean Moshe, there's fucking spanck everywhere on the fucking place!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
It just swang out, hit plant. The plant has grown. And it jnust hangs around there
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
There's SPANCK everyfucking where Moshe!!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Cause everyone is so free about it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
and everyone's done it!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
"Portugal is..."
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Fuck yeah m8!
how was it?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
nice
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
yours
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
how nice?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
nice enough for manchester let's put it this way
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
;)
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
good
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
yoyu?»
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
good enough for carleton?
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
I can fail for Carleton
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
m8
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
can i share something
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
REAAAAAAALLY personal with you?
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
sure
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
thansk for the Email
Moses - Home, sad or happy? diz:
btw
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
promess you wont inerrupt me
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
please
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
IB results
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
are something you achieve
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
with your own sweat, pain, suffering and HARD work.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
the same with the length of your penis.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
saying how much you got on IB is the same as saying how long your penis is
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
very badly perceived in my opinion
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
being short or long
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it doens't matter
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you still fuck with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you have a wank with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
you take a piss with it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
dont fucking show off about it!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
ffs!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it really gets on my balls!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it's gone!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
past!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
future is in front of you(with INARA!AHAHAHAH) and it is a good future innit?!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
the moment you saW YOUR RESULTS
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
they're fucking dead m8!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
who the fuck cares?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
it seriously wounds the fuck up out of my bloody guts!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
FUCK IT! IT'S GOOD! IT'S ENOUGH! YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD LIFE!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
what the fuck else do you want? A fucking blowjob?!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
(that would be nice actually!)
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
but you get my point!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
don't you m8?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Another personal thing:
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Rememeber that Martini campaign - Martini is...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
It fucked me up the first time i was it, I was young.
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
But now, I have lived 18 years, I'm mature. And i can confidently say: Portugal is...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
And it's reaaaally nice to get a feeling of that, you know?
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
...
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
I mean Moshe, there's fucking spanck everywhere on the fucking place!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
It just swang out, hit plant. The plant has grown. And it jnust hangs around there
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
There's SPANCK everyfucking where Moshe!!!!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Cause everyone is so free about it
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
and everyone's done it!
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
"Portugal is..."
Nah...Ain't gonna fuck her! I'm knackered. I'm just gonna have a nosh!!! diz:
Fuck yeah m8!
My Personal Code or Pin is Wrong
Yes, I am suffering again, as I am not able to see my results.
It is again me, the one with bad fortune, which is rather amusing considering the fact I do not believe in the notion of "luck".
It is again me, the one with bad fortune, which is rather amusing considering the fact I do not believe in the notion of "luck".
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
The End
Since I piss off everybody so fucking MUCH, and everyone fucking hates me and wants to see me dead.
I guess I'll stop writting on the blog, after having committed suicide.
Fuck you all!(All those who hate me. The ones who like me, just be where you are).
Bye Bye, by the way.
I guess I'll stop writting on the blog, after having committed suicide.
Fuck you all!(All those who hate me. The ones who like me, just be where you are).
Bye Bye, by the way.
The Swedish/Danish conflict
Combined news from Sweden and Denmark; the Danish right-wing party Danskt Folkeparti (DF) thinks that Sweden accepts too many immigrants. Ther main problem with this arise due to the Nordic agreement stating that Nordic citizens may move around freely within the region. This means that Swedish immigrants move to Denmark supported by a Swedish paper and Denmark has to let them in. This is really the back door in - many of these immigrants have previously been declined an asylum in Denmark...
This does contain a grain of truth and is, after all, a rather bizarre fact. What DF wants, is to stop the entire Nordic cooperation. This is not just stupid, but idiotic...
Relating all this to my own affairs, I mean - I'm a Swede working and currently living in Denmark. After a lot, I mean A LOT, of trouble, I got a Danish personal number in order to work here. (Firstly, they registered me as living on my own address, which was changed ten phone calls later.) A while ago, I got this lovely letter from the Swedish tax authority, kindly reminding me to notify them about me moving out from Sweden. Moving out from Sweden forever.
Well, I sent them an e-mail, called them and sent them a letter t sort it all out. I meant then I was not to be removed from the Swedish national registration since I'm only staying for two months. In order to be removed from this register, you need to stay abroad for at least one year.
Considering the issue to have been dealt with, I forgot all about it.
Yesterday, I got another letter from the Swedish tax authority. "The tax authority has decided to deregister you from the national register as emigrated the 9th of June 2007. [...] According to a report from the register in Hillerød municipality you have been registred as immigrated to Denmark the 9th of June 2007. The tax authority has therefore registered you as emigrated."
I'm gonna call them now, since it seems as Sweden has accepted too many immigrants and now need to throw someone else out...
(The funny thing is that the decision is based on the first registration, the one where I had my own address, not a "c/o" one. So now I'm not permanently registered anywhere. Currently, I don't have a country at all...)
And by the way, I hope you're all enjoying the muddy Roskilde. They are promising rain for the next ten days, too. It's not getting better...
This does contain a grain of truth and is, after all, a rather bizarre fact. What DF wants, is to stop the entire Nordic cooperation. This is not just stupid, but idiotic...
Relating all this to my own affairs, I mean - I'm a Swede working and currently living in Denmark. After a lot, I mean A LOT, of trouble, I got a Danish personal number in order to work here. (Firstly, they registered me as living on my own address, which was changed ten phone calls later.) A while ago, I got this lovely letter from the Swedish tax authority, kindly reminding me to notify them about me moving out from Sweden. Moving out from Sweden forever.
Well, I sent them an e-mail, called them and sent them a letter t sort it all out. I meant then I was not to be removed from the Swedish national registration since I'm only staying for two months. In order to be removed from this register, you need to stay abroad for at least one year.
Considering the issue to have been dealt with, I forgot all about it.
Yesterday, I got another letter from the Swedish tax authority. "The tax authority has decided to deregister you from the national register as emigrated the 9th of June 2007. [...] According to a report from the register in Hillerød municipality you have been registred as immigrated to Denmark the 9th of June 2007. The tax authority has therefore registered you as emigrated."
I'm gonna call them now, since it seems as Sweden has accepted too many immigrants and now need to throw someone else out...
(The funny thing is that the decision is based on the first registration, the one where I had my own address, not a "c/o" one. So now I'm not permanently registered anywhere. Currently, I don't have a country at all...)
And by the way, I hope you're all enjoying the muddy Roskilde. They are promising rain for the next ten days, too. It's not getting better...
Monday, 2 July 2007
Return of the Sith
I think that's the name of the last Star Wars Movie, though I'm not sure. Come to think of it, it is actually the REVENGE of the Sith, this being highlighted of course by a particularly memorable scene in the film.
Not much to describe in an update, really. I've come to realize that the name of the blog, the Thoughts of the Quinity, is remarkably inappropriate given the general character of the posts.
Otherwise, I recently visited Shanghai and a specific friend there for a week. My good friend, Ashmit, an authentic mathematical genius and a devout Indian, has unfortunately been conscripted for the next two years, and will hence constrict himself to Singapore. Shanghai was an interesting experience, the fact being that I have not visited the exalted mainland since circa 1997. (And that was Beijing, in any case). It is a polluted city, the cigarettes cost from 5-10 RMB (the People's Currency), hence equivalent to 6-9 NOK (per pack, of course), the locals are bastards with a sense of humour, the infrastructure is chaotic and worth seeing, the Museum is tedious (unless you're a serious fan of a particular brand of stagnant Chinese art), the property market is BOOOOMING, and the stock market is set to compete amongst the best.
So, a privileged economic center of the world. I visited the People's Square, the People's Road, and all other various People's business. We should have entered the main government offices (complete with the red CCP insignia adorning the entrance), but we ran out of time at the last minute. It probably would have been rather pointless, in any case.
So, I realize Roskilde will be arriving shortly. How many of you are actually going?
I will be traveling to Thailand soon, so if any of you would like cheap narcotics, capital punishment, or Surakit, please remind me.
Not much to describe in an update, really. I've come to realize that the name of the blog, the Thoughts of the Quinity, is remarkably inappropriate given the general character of the posts.
Otherwise, I recently visited Shanghai and a specific friend there for a week. My good friend, Ashmit, an authentic mathematical genius and a devout Indian, has unfortunately been conscripted for the next two years, and will hence constrict himself to Singapore. Shanghai was an interesting experience, the fact being that I have not visited the exalted mainland since circa 1997. (And that was Beijing, in any case). It is a polluted city, the cigarettes cost from 5-10 RMB (the People's Currency), hence equivalent to 6-9 NOK (per pack, of course), the locals are bastards with a sense of humour, the infrastructure is chaotic and worth seeing, the Museum is tedious (unless you're a serious fan of a particular brand of stagnant Chinese art), the property market is BOOOOMING, and the stock market is set to compete amongst the best.
So, a privileged economic center of the world. I visited the People's Square, the People's Road, and all other various People's business. We should have entered the main government offices (complete with the red CCP insignia adorning the entrance), but we ran out of time at the last minute. It probably would have been rather pointless, in any case.
So, I realize Roskilde will be arriving shortly. How many of you are actually going?
I will be traveling to Thailand soon, so if any of you would like cheap narcotics, capital punishment, or Surakit, please remind me.
Sunday, 1 July 2007
THE WEDDING PARTY
BY
VASCO SABINO
Faint light.BY
VASCO SABINO
There are people of all ages dancing on a pretty big dance floor. General Portuguese wedding kinda joyness and drunkness environment.
One of the charaters, VASCO, is the person who can be distinguished the easiest due to his idiotic dancing, flashy suit and hat.
There is a PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY dancing with him. Her PARENTS were nearby and also drunk.
Vasco is trying to pretend that he knows all the song lyrics and acts it out while dancing, trying to be charmful.PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY: Ahahahah! Nice party, you dance so well!!! I wish i could always dance with you.
VASCO: Always vailable for you.
PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY(smiling): Thanks...you're so sweet. I WANNA MARY YOU!!!
VASCO(like aye she's drunk, whatever): AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I wish.
The PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY just leaves out of the blue and VASCO leaves to nowhere in particular to dance with no one in particular. He actually was dancing close to his parents. The PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY arrives with her PARENTS.
PARENTS: Hello! So it appears that my daughter and you wish to get married. Very happy for the decision.
VASCO's parents burst in laughter and just leave.
VASCO(not knowing what to do and not wanting to cause trouble): Errrrrrrrr...We were just kidding...like playing around...
PISS FUCKING DRUNK YOUNG LADY starts crying along with her mum. The father took a sip(half the glass) of his whiskey and left. Vasco continued "dancing" with no one in particular.
THE END
---------
Conclusion: I could have a fiancé right now.
---------
Conclusion: I could have a fiancé right now.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)