Merci bucicoup [Original posting on Saturday, Mar 29, 2008 | 10:07 AM (UTC 0)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The power of the human mind... it can give or take: emotions, feelings, security or fear. It can frighten you in a way you might not be able to regain control, once you've lost it.
Most people think with 3.24% to 3.99% of its total capacity.
Statistics, numbers and differences, no one wants to know that shit. Makes you feel inferior.
If your religious beliefs aren't common with an orthodox or catholic mythology, you are fucked. It's starting to be an obligation to believe in Jesus or God. What is God? Nothing, you want to know why? Jesus and God are the same, they say, Jesus fucking Christ!
Three thousand years ago we believed in polytheism... more gods than you could write or spell. Like it wasn't enough being stupid, we had to be ignorant as well. That changed a bit and we aren't stupid, well, not that stupid anyway. But ignorance remains, a bliss... my ass! A few days ago I was accused of not believing in the God because I consider myself a God! How can I think of myself as a God, when I don't believe in the whole concept to start with? I don't, that's it, I do consider myself not being ignorant: believing in a superior power or phenomenon to worship or accuse when something goes wrong. If it's something good happening to you "praise the Lord, for He (keep in mind only self centered people talk at 3rd person), the all mighty and powerful (redundant), has given His blessing upon ye mortals."
Can I say: bullshit! Well, that gives you a different perspective... for hundred years ago: Normans believed in Odin, Arabs from the beginning until now believe in Allah. There are the Jews that still won't give up on the Moses theory, why should they... its more plausible than Jehovah! One thing that I find embarrassing is not admitting to what you really are: catholic, orthodox, gay or queer, by-sexual or homo sapient, sapient. You are making a mistake not giving that shit out, try it. You might feel better about yourself.
The point is: it doesn't matter, every culture will admit only to its belief as the authentic one. If you prefer to remain ignorant, by all means, believe in God, or Allah, or Jehovah... myself, I prefer to remain an authentic atheist.
No one is to worship or blame when something good of bad happens to you or someone you know, there are motives, surrounding people, places or periods that follow a sequence of events.

Authentic Atheist [Original posting on Saturday, Apr 5, 2008 | 05:43 AM (UTC 0)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't usually do this, blog about myself, my personal inside, but this part shouts out of me like a raging son of a bitch that didn't get laid since high school reunion, left alone like a fat blob of waste and decay, no one really cares about anyone anymore.
One of my horrifying episodes was way back, you probably still were in dippers back then, sucking the wrong type of milk, right at the time when I found out there is no Easter bunny, or the Fairy-god mother, no good old Saint Nick, it burned out a shit load of impressions and good thoughts. I preferred my face put in hot coal than finding out the truth. Daddy and mammy leaving all the goodies under the tree, or busting up your face just so you can put your teeth under that same stinky pillow you slept on for years, it all mattered squat when you looked at the big picture: this shit is fucked up. At least there was the money part: "son this is power, this is what makes a man heard, feared, respected. Learn to be powerful on your own." The bum, didn't know there is more to it than money.
Sinning just for the sick pleasure of seeing people suffer, the suffering, I wish more to see, you can almost feel it when it's empowered on a living being. You don’t wish pain; you just embrace it, knowing that there is nothing to stop it once it gotten whole of you, surrounding and choking, you start to realize life isn't true.
Truths that hurt, like God, why the fuck did he have to be a lie too? Is there an obligation or a need to feel that there is a superior power, but crap, most just want something to praise or blame despite themselves. It all goes wrong, turned out wrong for all the bizarre reasons, just for a sick torture invented thousands of years ago by monks that wanted to exploit the human mind.
Now they thrive of the stupidest of the mortals, thinking that sin must be forgiven by a powerful existence, and the only way is financing the construction of more monuments of this so called religion.
Another mythology in the history for a more superior race to laugh at, laugh about the idiotic concepts, the primitive human race could have thought of. But my words are in vain, since you can’t be reconverted, you have already been converted, too tiring to do it again.
Atheist, is it just so you don’t believe in one God? Or is it for all the primordial concepts and fictive impressions of any culture and race, minority, it's like discrimination to the majority to put minorities in front, as an important part and even an autonomic culture. Yeah, right, get serious you fucks! Minorities should learn to coexist with the majority, why should more suffer for the less, in converting overpower through political debates and military tactics. You can't be in the army without a God damn priest accompanying the platoon. Is the US army gay? Probably, they have pony rides, the pope on top; kinky little piece of garbage.
Atheist, more like not believing in any mythology the human mind conceived just to explain something it couldn't understand or leave it to peace, wake up, we are not in the Middle Ages any more... damn?! Do we have to live like its still then?

The Lake House [Original posting on Saturday, Apr 12, 2008 | 08:03 AM (UTC 0)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The human heart is a most fragile organ, its complex mechanics makes up for most of its functions. Most would think the heart is just another organ, pumping blood through the aorta, all the way to the atrium and ventricle, on and on, constantly without a heart’s beat stopping. Most would say it’s just an organ, keeping oxygen going at a constant rate through our vanes.
It has ligaments and trunks, chambers and valves that make a constant flow; you could remain shocked, why this muscle doesn’t wear out from such an immense work? It’s probably because the fuel it goes on is not just blood and oxygen, it might have something a few call the soul. An even more fragile part of the human's characteristics. It can feel cold or heat, joy or sadness, it can even feel love. Love makes the world go around, not money… if only; tell that to a bureaucrat, the guy will probably spit in your face, reminding you that money makes the world turn. If the world would be dead it would probably turn in its grave if it could see how the world turns. But some won’t let themselves caught into the circle of incomes and finances; they will just try and get by as much as possible, just not to raise an eyebrow. The much more important concentration will remain at feeding the soul with what people can come up with, what they like, like poetry, dancing, singing, and driving. There are a variety of options and occupations you can fill up.
The important thing is choosing what you truly like, where you can just lose your sense of time, or place, just don’t lose it too much, if you get lost, it might be too hard to find your way back. There is such a thin line between passion and obsession. No one really wants to cross that line; they just do, sometimes; marked by historical or personal tragic events. IO can’t understand why another human being would hurt another for nothing, or why when the nature responds to the violence its being put to, another person won’t lift a finger to help. There are such a few who would; it’s starting to be like a dying breed. Are good people even born anymore? Or, are they just taught? Some scientists would say that the brain, despite the fact that it has memories (a recollection of past events), memories specific to the individual, it has installed, deep inside, memories of our ancestors. How would birds know when to migrate, hunt or reproduce; if not for a sequence of past events instinctively inscribed as motion? But I’m just arguing semantics; don’t listen to me, listen to your heart, or does your brain do all the thinking for it?
I could fill a room with both sides, arguing for hours about the brain and the heart. They will come only to two agreements, one is they agree to disagree, and two is that both have a higher importance for the body to live. My impression is that the heart guides each of its fools host in thinking whatever they can understand. Would I really? That would be ignorance, no thank you.
It’s a complicated episode, but the heart is your own home, guarding emotions and an individual personality, with the brain as a front gate, it’s up to you when and to whom you open the door, having that "Welcome Home" funny little rug.

[HoMM]: There's no place like Everwood...

Rocket man [Original posting delayed due to provider downtime... (UTC 0)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi, good morning again! It’s me, blogging again to you, hoping someone will notice one day and find this blog and forwarding, so others can read my crazy little shit. I do come up with silly ideas, sometimes I surprise myself of how immature I can become, and I even lose myself sometimes.

Most consider me funny, hilarious, with a good perspective on life, well, it really isn’t the case, not to brag, but I hate life in most cases. I hate some things, and some other things I hate even more than I can tell right now, but this isn’t the subject for today. It could be about hope, or dreams, aspirations to become someone better, or have something better, like a strong belief in a religion or in a person, too bad the religion part failed, but there are still the people. People you can rely on, with all those dirty little secrets, a shitty situation you put those people into, keeping secrets, they should be bribed. Laugthing my ass off

How many of you owe a secret or two to a friend, or how many secrets do you keep, don’t pop! :grind: It’s all good; trust is the main motive in revealing secrets from one man to another (uhm, man, but not gay). Basic freedom, live, grow, inhale this toxic pollution we call "air", our fair city air, there is nothing pure anymore. Just a waste and misery of a city, the big apple is not just in NY, it’s everywhere, just stop for a second and look around, you got noise, pollution, dust, speedy people, ah you can just hear them screaming at you to move your ass. Can’t have a decent drive in the city without a jackass shouting at you, move bitch, get out the way. And people laugh at this, the term is as simple and the man can’t express himself other than in a vulgar (considered by “standard” criteria), thus he acclaims with a “move bitch, get out the way”. It’s all fucked up!

Everyone wants to be black now, they all want to be hard core or Satanists, if four hundred years ago everyone wanted to be racist, now they love the idea of changing and kissing ass for the better cause. Here is a hint, leave the fuck alone the brothers, they do the job better than you white breads ever tried. Face it; you can never reach their standard.
Satanist are the worst type, there are no more good people at it, just kids that pretend to slash their wrists, and listen just to Tokyo Brothel, excuse me, Hotel. What is that shit, MTV puts that crap like there is no tomorrow. Stop sucking your thumbs and forecasting the rainy weather. Hard core, stop hitting your heads over the dictionary, you will never get the words.

They all feel dumb right about now, I feel even more, when I skyrocket to the ground and hit nothing but emptiness. For once I’d like to feel normal, like I belong someplace; for once I like my situation, just a nothing, not bothering anyone. At peace, finally, something good; now I can start my book. Chronicles of the jackass, would probably be the best title. Consider me so?

I like to inspire, impress people with my shitty moods and funny jokes, why depress people? Am I funny? Why copy / paste people or other nationalities, I say fuck it, if others want to, fine by me, just take that shit in the other direction away from me (spin off, get it?).

Until I see a perfect world, I'll stay like this, I’m a rocket man and things are screaming through the roof.

In maseaua presei [Original posting on Thursday, Dec 25, 2008 | 2:09 PM (UTC)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
O noua saptamana, inevitabil un nou topic din casa groazei, unde desertam pe tava toate subiectele picante despre cine, care cum si ce? Pentru saptamana asta: In maseaua presei!

In afara de carii si gesticulatii oripilante, mai dam si de fraze sarcastice, dis de dimineata, daca va place in reluare, ca asa se vad si fazele proaste in Nationala. Mi-a devenit o obisnuinta dimineata sa fiu trezit asa din senin la emisiunea lui Badea, apreciem prezenta de spirit Mylene si informarea cu... cu emisiunea. Da, asa e, cu presa. Ca la cat de cultivat ma arat nici ziarele nu le citesc, le citesc altii pentru mine, noroc ca nu trebuie sa dau bani. Cam asa sunt subiectele picante, banii, politica si coruptia. Imi pornesc sloganul electoral: "Unde-s doi, coruptia creste!" Poate am noroc si eu si sunt ales primar al Bacaului. Am si uitat care e acum, stai nu e Sechelariu, ala a trecut, a furat ce a putut si a lasat si altora, din acelasi neam ca nu ar da saracilor. Tigane! Ai luat bataie de la rudele mele cand erai mic, gras si negru. Lasa ca e bine, a pus semafoare, atat de multe ca te duci sa iti cumperi un hamburger si mori de foame pana acasa, ca il cumperi la pachet si prinzi atatea pe stop. Ma apuc de furat semafoare si le dau la fier vechi, devin mai bogat ca Becali. Primul lucru ca primar, as da jos semafoarele, mai economisim din banii contribuabililor. Doi, autobuzele, dati-i afara pe toti burtosii aia lenesi care se rup in 13-14 cu Ardei Gheorghe sa prinda toate stopurile si semafoarele pe rosu. Ce aveti dragilor? Sunt nevestele pe rosu tot sezonul si v-ati obisnuit? Dar deja fac prea multe pentru Bacau si logic ca as face si la al doilea mandat, cu aceeasi pasiune. Cate semnaturi ai nevoie? 200 mii? Am uitat. Cui ii pasa, ma risc si fara ele, ca la cat bubuie genialii astia, numai suta metilica o depasesc. O trag inapoi, una tuta, doua tuta, treia tuta...

Alt picant, subiectul parlament si micile vedete, marele pacate. Se mai darama case pentru familiile nevoiase. Ati dat padurile ca pe chifle calde la Pambac (ups reclama, sue me), ati mai dat? Nu e de mirare ca inundatiile predomina si voi va bronzati la solar in Antalia. Ar trebui predata noua clima romaneasca: Temperat Continentala cu nuante de potop. Pai mi se pare firesc, daca in corpul uman 71% este apa, de ce nu si in Romania, 71% sa fie inundatie?

Legea compensatiei. Niciodata nu a contat sa primesti, nici sa dai, a contat furtul, altfel nu ai sansa... noroc de revolutie. Oricum, trece, ma simt ca emoticonul ala de la messenger "Oh, go on...". Las-o asa, ca trece!
Cand or saraci conducatorii nostri anonimati, or mai face o revolutie. Parca e o apucatura... sa dam inapoi la Era de Bronz? Tranzactionam pietre pentru capre, mi-e ca si alea or ajunge contrafacute. Dar traim, vedem pe Becali cum baga suta si aproape ca iti ia la trecere o ruda pe capota, vroia doar sa dea imbratisari gratuite. Mitrea doarme linistit, Basescu navigheaza in barcuta lui roz, Nastase isi culege dintii de pe jos, Columbeanca e in barcuta cu Traian; si Bush, well my fellow Romanians: si-a decorat casa.

Noi cetatenii de rand, umili, ne vom trezi sau ne vom culca cu maseaua cariata in timp ce ascultam ziarele cotidiene.

[HoMM]: I hate the shit out of Mircea Badea and him too.
[HoMM]: Traieste in Romania si asta ii ocupa tot timpul.

Advert-dreaming [Original posting on Friday, Dec 26, 2008 | 22:58 PM (UTC)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Un proiect abandonat mai demult, reluat in centrul atentiei prin simplul chef de amintiri din cripta, speram ca si Lilium sa colaboreze in continuare la acest mic concept, daca vedeti un blog similar la ea, stiti de ce; cu un calduros "ingropa-v-as" va urez bun venit in morga noastra bine conservata.

Cum poate nu multi stiu de noul meu proiect, am sa detaliez: World of Warcraft. Mai exact The Burning Crusade! Unii poate nu stiu ce e, altii poate m-ar expedia de pe acum cu tot cu blogul acesta, cine aici uraste WoW? Ei bine dracii mei: HommWoW reclama, sigur ma trezesc maine cu un cont inactiv... "draga domnule profitor (ala sunt eu, "draga", hehe Smudge no, e bine ase), mars draq cu reclama ta! Sincerely, Netlog Staff Romania". Cui ii place WoW, sa dea un raid pe aici, ca tare ma chinui sa iasa ceva frumos, detaliile pe forum, faceti cont deshuma-v-as!

Cum niciun blog nu este consumat pe aici, versi o lacrima de bucurie sau doua de tristete, de ce nu ar fi si azi la fel de intens?

Dar, ce sa luam la misto azi? Ah stiu... disparitia cronica la ore fericite.

A strigat mamica sa vii in patut, sa iti puna paturica sa te inveleasca, sa iti cante nani-nani boul, a... pardon, puric, vai, ce gura sloboda am, puiul mamii? Parca e o apucatura sa pleci de pe server la ore fixe... mai stiu o ora, cand e "Creier de Tigan", a nu confund: "Inima de Tigan". Inima necizelata, poate aduce cineva dalta, mai scorbim niste ghiata pentru tequila si martini. Va duceti cumintei la serial, va intoarceti ca si cum nu ati plecat si hai sa dam in cap. Pentru cine va uitati? Cabral sau Luciu? E grav daca pentru Cabral. NU vrem sa crestem numarul de poponari pe cap de erectie... ups, locuitor. Amuzant tare, nu... nu?! Dar lasa ca te culci devreme azi, esti copil bun pentru mama si ce faci.. te duci la culcare prematur si visezi ingerase blonde si brunete in bikini, a stai, tu esti impartial, visezi ingerase chele... ai grija mane, sa nu te trezesti dimineata cu lanterna pornita, inca in cautarea ingeraselor... poate dai de Tatal Timp si iti da una de te scoala. Ce fetisuri mai aveti?

Sunt oripilat, deja mi-a dat o lacrima, ca la Carcotasi, lacrimi de izbire, nu? Iubire? Ce zici tu, ma? Dar aia e pentru alta zi cand vom demonstra ca nici ei nu mai stiu sa distinga penibilul de comedie. Au ajuns intr-un hal, hiii, maica, cum (nu va mai ganditi atat la erectie) e posibil?

Nici nu stiu cine mai citeste, ati mai ramas pe aici? Ok, eu ma duc sa bag lanterna la incarcat, lalevedere... aveti grija sa nu descarcati prematur bateriile...

Last generation [Original posting on Saturday, Dec 27, 2008 | 12:23 PM (UTC)]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~Posting in collaboration with Acrâşmãriţei Edi

Born in the early 70s to the late 80s we see now in year 2009 how our parent's houses are 50 times more expensive then the time they bought it back in the golden ages, and we realize that we will be paying for about 50 years or so for our houses. We don't have memories of the first steps on the moon or the brutal two World Wars but we have general knowledge since that meant something sometime.
We are the last generation who played "Hide 'n Seek", "Castle", "Ducks and Hunters", "Catchers", "Cops and robbers", the last who played "One, two, three at the wall", the last to use cabled phones but the first to give out recorded parties (used to rent a video and watch it for two days locked inside our houses), the first to see colored animations, the first to give up tapes for CDs. We worn elastic jeans, jeans-pants, jeans-coats from the Turks and who used to have movies with Puma or Bruce Lee was the clan leader. We took General Knowledge exams and didn't have grill tests to get into a high school. We were the last "Falcons of our Country" and the last "Pioneers".
At kindergarten we learned poetry in Romanian and not English and we used to sing "Multi Ani Traiasca" and not "Happy Birthday" at anniversaries.
We were fascinated by "Isaura the slave", "90210 Beverly Hills", "Melrose Place", "Twin Peaks", "Dallas" and "Highlander" (not this stupid remake "The Immortal" with the worst actor copying "Duncan McLeod") and who is lying to not have watched is ether lying or didn't have TV. Foreign TV commercial used to drive us crazy like the "Magnum" ice-cream and we couldn't wait for it to pop-up in our stores, or those awesome water-guns (fancier and fancier).
Meanwhile as a consolation with "Tango" (vanilla and chocolate) and the all classic bottles filled with water from the hose, pored on our heads gave us pneumonia... now that was a good reason not to go to school. We listened to "Metallica" and "Ace of Base", we listened to DJ Bobo and Michael Jackson, and "Backstreet Boys", "Take That" and there were no gypsy (so called) songs (manele that figuratively make me puke, a personal impression). The only game songs used to be like in a gathering, songs we learned from our grand-folks, songs at which we couldn't get the steps right but we all danced! Unlike the kids of today we heard of "Abba" and "Queen" (Freddy Mercury, died too young) and we heard all the new names like "50Cent" and Britney Trash, excuse me, Spears.
We read "Licurici", "Pif", "Ciresarii" and we drank "Cico" and "Zmeurata" and we thought that it was a wonderful thing when the "TEC" juice appeared without having to be concerned about "too many E-uri", and in school we all drank from the same bottle without fear of herpes or viruses. We are the last generation that cares about writing grammatically correct. We drank Coca-Cola from the glassed-bottles and discovered Internet. We didn't beep each other, just whistled to call out the gang, we didn't have "Dolby Surround System", used to all shut up and keep it that way to not miss out on any of the film's actions. We didn't have "Nintendo" or "Playstation" but we played "Tetris" that bored the crap out of us in under a month after buying it (threw it inside somewhere and forgotten all about it).
We couldn't wait for a party to play "Fantanita", "Flowers, girls and boys" or the best "Truth or Dare", anything that gave out a pretext to "mouth kiss" a girl we liked like liked. We are still the ones who asked first for the girl's friendship, the ones who blushed at the word "sex", the ones who flipped the coin to see who would go buy condoms from the pharmacy so we can fill them up with water to throw from the balcony on unsuspecting people's heads walking by. We filled out "Oracles" in which we hoped the loved one would finally read how much we like her/him and how much we have in common.
It is amazing that we are still alive, because we are the last generation to ride a bicycle without any protection, we didn't have good seat-belts or special seats inside our parent's or relative's cars. We didn't throw away the candy we accidentally dropped on the floor. There were no special contraptions or ways to keep kids from opening bottles of dangerous substances, we didn't wash our hands after playing with all the muts and cats before eating. There was no care of how many fats the food contained and there was no "child proof the house". Parents sent us to buy drinks and cigarettes.
At the Revolution we heard the shootings, we witnessed three monetary changes, we laughed at jokes with "Bula" and we were definitely the first to hear Andreea Esca at PRO-TV saying "Bunaseara Romania. La multi Ani Romania!", we are the ones who remember all the early shows like "Beware of the donkey" and so on.

We are a generation of winners, of dreamers, the "first-timers"... and if you are reading this and fell into thinking just a bit, you are one of ours.

[HoMM]: One nation, undivided through Warcraft...

Lazy bones [Posting in collaboration with my spine]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've been thinking lately about how no one blogs here any more, even I haven't since I'm too lazy to basically read, let alone write my audacious (in this case insolent) scraps. To be fair, no one is obliged to write but it's nice to know what others are thinking... maybe we should make a "brain trust" club. Get all the crazy, insane and partially schizophrenics in the "house". Yes gents, the morgue is now opened for another season of "Burdened to Live".
Things haven't been so fly these past few months, people having their PCs popping like firecrackers, losing internet on a daily basis (myself included last month and 2 weeks before coming back publicly), others coming to a sudden jolting shortness of breath when realizing they have nothing to live for in this world other than the simple fact: get up, go to work, come home and repeat, all mustered with a nice topping of pay your taxes; and then there is me, where I just ripped from reality since I've quit my job at the exciting factory where we make planes. Look daddy, it's a bird, it's an eagle, it's a plane... No son, it's a shit load of work and toxin contaminant that over 200 people striven in assembling, chopping down, cutting by size, gluing, grinding and yes crying over to have ready within the freaking deadline (I once seen a devouring at the shipping expedition when the 2nd big boss just pummeled the poor woman responsible with inventory for missing about 15 reps regarding the ailerons... poor girl had 30% salary cut for the next 3 months). The world is full of bureaucratic leaders, bosses and under-bosses that will just piss over you for the simple fact that they were told to. I wonder what life the biggest leader leads? Who tells him/her what to do? The spouse? Hell no, their gut coheres the whole mechanism inside that sweaty, old and bitter sorry excuse of a human being. I feel sorry for their mothers... wait, why should I?
I had to get out of that kind of system, it simply tears you apart, chews you good and then spits you out like an overly used gum-gum. "When I grow up daddy, I want to be just like you: a bureaucratic liberal who doesn't give a shit about people because he can afford it". Aah, these little tykes, they grow up so fast, today crapping little bundles of joy, tomorrow world leaders, presidents, directors or war criminals. "Kid's 'R Us - Come and pick your baby":
- Welcome sir and thank you for choosing our market, we are an experienced and developing children marketing, offering you the finest in babies today. From super sized, over thinking in the future to the worthless little pooer that puts a smile on your face, money back guaranteed.
- How interesting... I've always wanted a little JD running around the house while I beat up my stunningly ugly wife that has been too careless about her weight and eventually turned into her mother. I told the bitch: woman you need to get into shape and she would be like "oh relax, I'll start in the spring, right now I'm tired from work", can you believe it?
It's a system in where everyone loses, even the big guy with all the money and all the power. Three words: compensation in life. I am constantly reminded of it by people all around me, my wife (whom I love dearly and IF I make any bad remark at, she will drain the life outta me, die before me and haunt me for the rest of my miserable and petty excuse of a life), my friends remind me about compensation, even my cat does it. What is this world coming to, everyone is doing it except me? I'm not sad, I'm filled with joy knowing that the sorry and bitter old men who control their countries have worse things than we can imagine. To deal with that much responsibility, knowing even if you have that much power, once two guys decide to take it from you... well, there's no stopping them. It's simple: one holds and the other punches your teeth out. All they wanted to show you was the world as it is: giggling and bleeding in the corner, while they wipe that grim-façada off once and for all. I am spooked and yet intrigued at how devious the human being can be, it shocks me, it inspires... it illuminates me. I know now that compensation has one binding rule: people aren't chosen to rule, they are born to it. We, the rest of the population who are fortunate enough to realize that and not to be implicated in political warfare must be smart enough not to take a path that leads to military conflict and hundreds in masses dying by the minute, because we can learn from our mistakes, something the power-man will never comprehend. Why? Because he can't understand the choices he made in life. We are all fate of compensation, some realize it and some don't. What matters is where we go from there, we can choose to be who we want, destiny has been overrated for a very long time. There is no point in marching to our capitol city and demanding rights but we can take them subtlety from under their noses, without any of them ever realizing.
Some times we all wish for more, to be rich, to be smart, to be able, to be nice... some of us just can't, we are our own reason for mass destruction.

Going apes... [Posting in collaboration with Word against AIDS]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ding dong... good evening ladies and germs, welcome to another horrifying conclusion of what has popularly turned into our famous quote "burdened to live", now only for 9.99$. Limited edition, get yours today, buy 3 at the price of 2 and surprise your dearest relatives with a lovely winter gift!
Today on "Hugsy's Paper-view" we will be talking about AIDS and the means of combating HIV. We all know the date of it's celebration, the first of December, it's not a festive holiday like X-mas where you put up the stockings, send cards. "I'm sorry you got AIDS" cards, they don't make-em. So we got involved, a funding where we would help the children. The deal was opening contracts with various sponsors in raising funds, simple, then the hard part... giving the money away to hospitals for medical insurances, prescribed drugs (none of my favorite on the list), medical equipment and paying back the sharks calling themselves businessmen. Overcoming my anger in losing so much cash in such a short time, I visited our main hospital, you should have seen it, beds filled and ready to go with all your lovely sick and dying relatives you couldn't wait to get rid of (hello? Alaska? I have a delivery to make). Realizing I'd never see my money again, I decided to make myself a promise to never do such an idiotic thing ever again and if I ever come down with this shit (kill me), I'll personally throw out the little sweet baldy bastard and free-up a bed. That's the equipment I paid for, you selfish prick. Find another excuse before I find one to discharge your ass. A few years ago we had a kid, sweet little boy, about 18; we did what we could: pay some bills, sign some cards and then the kid comes back some time ago and he was like what? 20? So I ask him, hey were you 18 when you first came here? Yea, are you 20 now? Yeah, well get the hell outta here... how the hell could he still be an adolescent? Not in my book, he isn't.
Since we are educating you, we are explaining constantly that HIV is is a lentivirus (a member of the retrovirus family) that causes acquired immunodeficiency syndrome or AIDS, a condition in humans in which the immune system begins to fail. The first form of this Ribonucleic acid was first found on monkeys, now since we are 98.6% genetically identical with the chimps this virus was passed down to us. It all started with a butcher one day while chopping monkeys, accidentally he cut one of his fingers and contracted the virus (or so being the excuse I'd have given), he then consulted a doctor that told him, congratulations on being the first human with AIDS. Is that a bad thing? The doctor then theorized how the man got this ambiguous form of disease, one is that the man was fucking the monkey up the arse, the man irrefutably argued this theory; the second is that the man accidentally cut his finger while chopping a monkey and came in contact with the chimp's blood. I take that theory, exclaims the troubled person.
The man, curious by nature, went to Africa in search of a monkey infected with the same virus that our poor explorer had been burdened with; finding it, beating the shit out of it while shouting: you gave me AIDS, you gave me AIDS! The ruffled monkey, as well curious by nature argued Indiana Jones on his accusations. So then the man pleaded, one, the monkey shacked another monkey up the arse or two the monkey ate one of his fellow siblings. The monkey exclaimed: the second one, I ate the sibling!
And that is why we fight AIDS all around the world, happy holidays...

Bakugan [Posting in collaboration with Lilium]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fiind asa de fascinat de numele in cauza, am decis sa ma interesez despre ce este vorba. Uitandu-ma prin vasta si nelimitata sursa de inspiratie numita: imaginatia mea (ce credeati, ca googales ca tampitu?), am gasit multe puteri ascunse, taramuri nemarginite decat de capacitatile mintale, frumuseti ale naturii cu ranjeturi oripilante si tampiti de toate natiile.
Realizand ca nu stiu canci despre o prostie mai mare in zilele noastre decat Naruto, am zis ce draq? Hai sa dau la shto din dumele mele sumbre, rascolitoare, ambigui si macabre; si sa imi fac o lume fantastica in care toti sunt ce vreau eu sa fie: de la printese frumoase (cam frigide) si printi fermecatori (al draq de potenti) la vrajitori (mai mult cacanari, care fura curent), in palatele lor... dar de ce pula au atata spatiu ocupat hotii? Ce, nu le ajungea un apartament cu 2 camere si o buda? Sa nu uitam de taramuri fermecate prin care eroii nostri pozitivi si negativi calaresc niste armasari, hopa dar aveti grija ca multi prosti s-au cacat prin meleagurile mele... l-as ca trece, da o ploaie mai zdravana si zici ca e ca noua colina. Ca atunci cand te duceai cu clasa a 5a in camping, vezi ca acum totul e modern, nici nu îi mai zice tabara, egoistii, toti vor sa fure curent; dar numai unii sunt inzestrati cu o asemenea abilitate, ca mine; heh, v-am dat pe spate deja. Revenind la cacanarii nostri si bakuganii, chiar ce is aia? Se mananca pe paine?
Ca orice poveste legendara, nu putem omite puterile supranaturale cu care toti sunt inzestrati, vorbesc serios, pana si mucosul de vacar care iti spala veceurile din palatul ala mare, stii tu, ala pentru care ai daramat casele unor oameni sa iti ridici casa poporului; pana si ingrijitorul are puterea de a suge pula cu maiestrie. Nici nu mai caracterizez ierarhiile superioare libidinosului ala de ingrijitor (v-as plictisi cateva ore cu telenovele), sar direct la eroii nostri. Cu care sa incep? Unii dramaturgi ar incepe cu ce e mai rau, dar de ce sa fiu un pesimist? Vom incepe cu partea intunecata, ca daca incep sa vorbesc despre eroul principal va adorm si ne-am dus pe pula cu toata povestea; mai ajungem din craci la destinatie... concluzia: ala rau are toate puterile care il avantajeaza, tipic; sa te caci in scenaristii nostri, mereu exagereaza cu personajul negativ, asa ca mi-am zis: de ce nu si eu? Daca ala sare din râca in cacat, hai sa sar si eu din piscina in pizda, ca e mai cald acolo... stiu ca am incalzire conditionata la jacuzzi dar parca o libidinoasa tot iti incalzeste sufletelul mai bine. Si eram la personajul negativ cu puterile lui, pai are armuri, are cal, are sabie... jur, îi poti sari la pula cu dintii si daca ai noroc sa retezezi un coi, tot degeaba; invoca un cacat de vraja care l-a invatat ma-sa aia slobozita, mixeaza scuturile vrajite si puf: coiul la loc a inflorit.
Dezavantajul este ca eroul nostru negativ intotdeauna o sa aiba inamic pe mucosul ala sarmant, sa îi frang gatu de libidinos, e frumos, e destept si e clar la final el isi baga pula in curva zilei, daca v-ati plictisit sariti la pagina 15 si vedeti capitolul "In final! Ii da la muie...". Si vai cum am stricat povestea, dezvaluind finalul, dar eh, macar v-am dus printr-un taram fermecat, cu hopuri, suisuri si coborasuri, ai zice ca calaresti (stiu ce gandesti) o banana numai ca asta e proaspat rasa. Si au trait toti fericiti pana la adanci batraneti pana cand eroul pozitiv a ramas impotent si curva a sarit in cariciul celui rau; ha, in your face, el e nemuritor si îi sta sculata pe veci... amin. Happy holidays.

Turbat de sarbatori [Posting in collaboration with Sandu]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zambiti va rog, a mai trecut un an si nimic nu s-a schimbat, surpriza: sunt tot in acelasi cacat, tot nereusit, tot nerealizat, tot nefericit... dar mereu acelasi optimist spre o sinucidere mai originala.
Zambiti va rog, am deschis portile spre iad si va invit pe toti la mine de sarbatori, ca tare mi-as dori companie placuta. Vorbind de companie placuta, in ultimii ani parca sunt echivalentul impotentei cand vine vorba sa ma ridic printre prieteni; nu in sensul ala, dar parca nu mai e nimeni nou in viata mea, facand mici exceptii care abat de la regula "nu avea incredere in nimeni si in curve", am cativa oameni de suflet, unul pot spune ca este Sandu care a stat la bine si la rau de partea mea si nici nu i-am facut cadou un inel de aniversare. Sunt un porc, dar multumesc celor care ma inspira in bine si in ale slobodelor proverbe. Daca tot este sezonul multumirilor, darurilor si iertarilor, sa ma ierte cine poate. In rest sa ma urati toti ca nu sunt ca voi. O mare parte din lume, de sarbatori, parca-i molipsita cu prostie; de ce trebuie sa imi cer scuze? Cel mai dureros este cand prietenii au pretentia sa faci ce vor ei, nu te uita nimeni de sarbatori. Pai cum sa te uite? Tre' sa scoata un ban de pe tine, apoi nu isi mai aduce aminte nici maica Tereza cine esti, "fiul meu risipitor...". Proasto, nu am plecat nicairi. Asta incerc sa le zic si tovarasilor, de parca as veni cu o boala la bairam si le cade cariciu rand pe rand cand sunt in limita ordinului de restrictie. Dupa capul lor ar trebui sa imi prostituez nevasta spre deliciul lor. Toti sunt realizati, toti sunt pasionali in ce fac, ca beau, mananca, ragaie, niciunul nu ezita sa dea ce e mai bun din el.
Uneori parca regret ca nu sunt realizat ca ei, aspectul fermecator de broasca, privirea misterioasa si shpanchie, cocoasa proeminenta de care s-au saturat sa o duca in carca si au ales sa o tina pe post de burta, pardon, abdomen; ca de la bere se trage, mersul plapand si inocent in ghiarele vietii, inhatati in eternitatea cercului vicios ale bauturii, tigarilor si femeile frumoase, niste pipite care au cei mai buni prieteni pe Botox, Colagen si Diamond (nu Neil Diamond); sau educatia exceptionala de care se bucura: primul fuge din scoala in scoala doar sa nu lucreze, urmatorul nu a auzit in viata lui de facultate, celalalt inca se chinuie cu notiunea de liceu, urmatorul a picat proba sportiva la Academia de Politie ca s-a dus la examen crezand ca e la un jogging in parcul Herastrau si ultimul; dar cel din urma ar prefera si acum sa stea la supt de mamelon. Doar e cald, e moale si nu a patit ca Ombladon sa rabda de foame primii ani de viata ca avea erectia mai tare ca foamea. Lumea tinde sa se fereasca de mine de sarbatori, pe buna dreptate, ma ingrozes si eu de ce as putea face la orice moment...
Imagineaza-ti ce dezastru ar iesi cu inca o palnie de umplut, te rog, nu beau ca nu sunt cu masina; ce tragedie sa vezi ca ultima felie de parizer e insfacata de alt bulangiu si nu de tine ca nu a troncanit nimeni din cioc, sa îi zica "pleaca ba si fa numaratoarea inversa pana la mata acasa". Asta imi aduce aminte de Antohi, stiu ca nu e politicos sa dam nume, dar cu-i pasa? Mai bine fac pereche de vis cu Sandu si ne amuzam sistematic, ca sindromul Tourette, cand ne apuca, ne apuca. Dupa impresia lui, inspiratia imi bate la usa, eu tot îi zic "nu bate nene, doboara usa", parca as fi un purcelus speriat din poveste si vine lupul mare si rau sa ma pape. Daca tot ma haleste sa ma ia din cap pana in pelvis. Sau cel putin asta era varianta povestii care as fi impartit-o. Nu as dori nimanui sa stea mai mult de 5 minute si 15 metri in preajma mea, nu de alta dar ordinul de restrictie zice clar "a nu se apropia de bestie...", dauneaza grav sanatatii mintale; ar putea ajunge hazlii ca mine; sau asa ma considera lupul cel mare si fioros, de ma tot fugareste in fata monitorului, incercand sa ia un cotlet imbelsugat din mine.
Da, sunt singur de sarbatori si nu conteaza, sunt exact ca voi in cosmarurile voastre cele mai sumbre.

To my un-unbanned "child"[Posting redirected to Gunnakill]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You worthless crap... talking about balls so much, I'm starting to think you are gay, oh wait... thought just came, verdict: yes ladies and gentleman... he is gay (that is called constructive criticism, learn some grammar and diction, you illiterate little boy). The day you came and so courteously told me of a few bugs, we could agree that I did have a bit of work, but you have no idea how much I worked until opening the server. You go be a "big man" on any little server you find, good luck with crashes, rollbacks and crappy GMs who won't give a shit of your puny existence.
For your satisfaction; what I worked before you came with 2 bugs and the aka items (enhancement without reputation, I appreciate that.. thought they were deleted), as I said, I worked, the entire core: made the mall from nothing, brought my own scripting, my own db and "deck" that links the whole things and "kicks the gears in motion". There's some more vocabulary you are incapable of learning. Next work: repaired several zones with NPCs and conscript, repaired glyphs, enhancement and talents (and oh yeah the dual spec prob... repaired). The shaman repaired, DKs have Runeforging... but you go little "man" and have your glorious seconds.
Pree-PS: Today and the day you were banned I've worked in collaboration with a few to fix a lot of shit. And I've also updated the mall with all those nice 3.3.0a real items, that "I am too lazy and balles, banning anyone" to work... you are pathetic.
Go piss off some more GMs / Owners and see who will graciously re-accept you back, give you items and reputation (from the event Sandu won, you coming back empty-handed), ignore your previous insults and false accusations you so strive in upholding. Your accusation are immature, as most of your conversation we had. The fact that I tell you to shut up and start "spitting" out I told you to st-f-u, now that is wrong and, yes, another false accusation. You pissed on yourself the way you constantly insulted me, forced my hand to ban you. And who will miss you?
People glad you are "ejected": Illusionist, Mylene, Sandu, Innkeeper, Teathy, Lilium, the whole staff and a few others that saw the ban and asked me, why?
Go and rejoice... little "man". (Thank you for taking the liberty of reading my few impressions of you, most of them bad impressions).