Mmm…

(via absurdlakefront)

Gasp…I’ll let my one and only blonde neuron (I will name it BN) take over from here.

Someday… I will get rid of my crush for Simon Pegg. Till then, I will squeal like a little schoolgirl at the sight of his pictures. IIIIIIIIII!!! I love this picture, even though I absolutely HATE the colour pink. He looks feisty.

One word: PINK!

BN over.

I cannot believe my “blog” is turning into a place where I post pictures and YouTube videos. I had big plans. GREAT plans, but I somehow… derailed along the way. I wanted to change something (mostly for me). Perhaps it will turn into an escape valve for all my frustrations. I don’t have the willpower to write here, I’d rather linger somewhere or strangle something. So yeah…

Dub Pistols – Gave you time

I gave you time, still stuck in my mind
But the space in between us, I had to draw the line
You come around, It’s like I’m walking on the ceiling,
And I can’t find the words that are matching with the feelings…

Lenore, the cute little dead girl

Even though I am twenty years old I still watch cartoons. Old ones, new ones, it doesn’t matter if I really, really like them. Hell, I’ll watch them even if I reach a certain age (hint 70).

Two years ago, I was caught by Lenore, the cute little dead girl created by Roman Dirge. It was funny, dark and had kittens in it. The perfect combination. My favourite episodes: Little bunny Foo Foo and Ragamuffin (I do believe the little rascal rocks) … and The return of Mr. Gosh.

Go here and see them all (only 26 episodes). They’re gonna rock your socks.

Oh, and here’s the inspiration: Edgar Allan Poe’s poem, Lenore.

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll! -a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river –
And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? -weep now or never more!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read -the funeral song be sung! –
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young –
A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young.

“Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,
And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her -that she died!
How shall the ritual, then, be read? -the requiem how be sung
By you -by yours, the evil eye, -by yours, the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?”

Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!
The sweet Lenore hath “gone before,” with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride –
For her, the fair and debonnaire, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes –
The life still there, upon her hair -the death upon her eyes.

Avaunt! tonight my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,
But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!
Let no bell toll! -lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.
To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven –
From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven –
From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven.”

Childhood

I used to do a lot of stupid things when I was a child. And then blame most of them on my brother if necessary. Being a cunt… it’s hereditary.

Where was I? Ah, yes. I wanted to tell you a little story. It all started I was five or six years old and my father had just installed an improvised swing in the front door of my grandfather’s storeroom. All was nice and dandy, and my ass was glued to that piece of wood. I had my very own space where I could sing and scream and let’s not forget – swing.

(I know I misspelled INSIDE, but I am too lazy to edit it)

But then, I wanted more attention. My objective: to touch with my tiny legs a grappling that was hanging from the ceiling (so that I could brag about it later). I was unstoppable. After the first two tries, my mission was accomplished, it was time for me to go and show others my unique talent.

I was so naive. So narcissistic. So stupid. I ended up hanging upside down, with one leg caught in the grappling and flailing my arms faster than a cartoon character. Luckily I was rescued by an aunt (whom I’ve forced to promise not to tell my parents about my little … bravado).

So there you have it, one of the many things that have led to me being the fucked-up person I am today.

• Lil Bro Bro: Do you guys think about murder?
• Me: Oh yeah! All the time.
• Tom Oatmeal: I think it’s pretty natural.
• Lil Bro Bro: All I think about is murder.

Concurs

In the tradition of keeping this hybrid blog I am going to write in Romanian.

Line Education Center organizează împreună cu evenimentestudentesti.ro un concurs drăguț care are ca premiu un curs de Java sau PHP. Cred că mi s-ar potrivi de minune ținând cont că sunt la o facultate de profil (acuma nu spun mai multe că sunt mai paranoică de fel). Merit să câștig (o spun de parcă o să conteze, dar ce naiba e o tragere la sorți) pentru că eu chiar vreau să învăț ceva nou, nu să simt cum îmi pierd ore prețioase din viață revizuind și insistând pe lucruri absolut irelevante sau banale…. sau al naibii de plictisitoare. Așadar și prin urmare cel mai mare argument pe care pot să îl aduc (și care a mai fost menționat) este că o ard aiurea pe la facultate la niște cursuri de toată jena și niște seminarii cu un profesor mai prost decât o amibă (nu am găsit un alt termen de comparație).

Acum nu pot decât să invoc karma sau norocul care pare să fie de partea mea săptămâna asta (who am I kidding, eu l-am făcut să fie de partea mea) pentru că altfel nu văd cum aș putea să câștig, mai ales că e o chestie complet aleatoare.

Can’t stop

This is my second post here about candy, but hey, why not?

I act like an addict; I have all the symptoms, I crave sugar. Refined sugar. I think about it, I dream about it (not really), I am easily tempted and I later regret it. It’s not that I cannot stop it. It’s that I don’t want to stop. I lack the willpower because I love it too much. I’m just like that dog who returns to his abusive owner. In this relationship, the sugary treats are wearing the wife beater.

And when it’s a “Buy one get one free” deal at the supermarket I turn into a mindless consumer. A weak and mindless consumer. I shouldn’t  be allowed to eat that much sugar. I’ll be like a Gremlin who’s been fed after midnight. Add to this combination a few cups of coffee or better yet some Earl Grey Tea, and you have a serious deranged trembling/shaking/nervous person on your head. I’ll be like a squirrel (saw one yesterday) on caffeine. The bad part is that after all this hype comes the miserable feeling and general discontent that I stuffed myself to a point of no return; I’ll be sick and have chocolate/sugar pouring out of my mouth, nose and ears but I will still crave for more.

Ahhh, if only I could break this vicious circle. But if I do this, then I will have to find another vice. Since I hate smoking my possibilities are narrowing. Nooooooooooooooo*. I already drink coffee or things that are high in caffeine and chew bubble gum like there’s no tomorrow so my daily vice-intake is pretty consistent. But the sweets… oh… those little rascals like to torment me. It’s not enough they** make me all shaky and trembly enough to forget about my cynical “alter ego” and be all fuzzy and warm inside, but they break my concentration.

So I declare war on you bitches. You’re going down. My esophagus.

*I know that it’s not the best place for this, but I always wanted to include that somewhere. Expect more in the future.

** I’m crazy enough that I used “they” instead of “it” to describe the vile processed sugar.

Later edit:

Damn you and your deliciousness

Ok so ignore the crappy picture, after all it’s not like I’m skilled or anything, but I do have to admit that I love sweets in all shapes and sizes (wow, this sounded rather awkward). Were it for me, I’d be stuck now in a room filled with chocolate (and be dead by now) and suffer from severe diabetes. But I digress. However, I do have a weird way of eating pretty much everything and this includes cakes as well. When I’m not at home, I usually eat the whole piece. Yes, I am aware that there are children dying in Africa, but in the comfort of my house, I would rather eat the cream and frosting and throw the rest. ‘Cuz I’m all classy like that.

It’s hard to resist the alluring nature of the wild cake. And this is why I always find myself reenacting the temptation of Christ scene, but, in the end, I am the one who caves in first.

Mmmmmm… Cake.

Yes, but what were his intentions towards it?

I’ve wanted to publish this article a few days ago but I never pulled myself together to actually write something about this subject. So, yeah.

A man gets charged for public intoxication… while he was trying to revive a dead opossum. Probably the police though something was fishy or that he was giving mouth to mouth resuscitation to a toddler. A furry one I might add. Aw, I feel bad for the poor fella, all he wanted to do was resurrect a dead animal. Just like the doctors. Or Jesus, if you believe that kind of crap. I, for one, would’ve forgiven the bastard. After all, not everyone is willing enough to get rabies or other lovely diseases while trying to save a life. Even if that person wasn’t really aware of his actions.

But who know what were his real intentions? Luckily, I have quickly used my super-advanced Excel skills and came up with a few ideas.

Later edit: He skipped the second base and went straight to the third one.

Meh…

I know that I haven’t been that active around here (who am I kidding), but I didn’t though it was necessary. Not to mention that this week I have deliberately ignored this corner of my mind. I was lazy, I couldn’t find something smart and bitchy to say and I had other (more important) things to do like sob and complain that the whole world is against me and that I will never be able to leave this country, even if it was only for a few months. So, I’m basically stuck here. Indefinitely. OH. THE. JOY.

However, I do plan on making some changes around here. Not exactly in the near future, but somewhere along that way. I intend on putting drawings here that will illustrate my thoughts (more like frustrations or things that irk me) and probably use a more … how should I say? … elevate complex comprehensive (insert adjective here that may or may not be the opposite of the strikethrough letters) vocabulary. So what I basically wanted to say was that I will also use various expressions that may or may not insult people and/or animals. I still cannot believe I wrote that last sentence (this is my conscience. Conscience meet world. World meet conscience). But to hell with that (see I’m already starting to use it).

PS: Oh, don’t imagine that I have an artistic sense or anything. There will probably be some stick men, infantile and stupid drawings, or pretty excel-like graphics. Because I am not gifted, or better yet, I did not cultivate it when I was younger (although when I was younger I used to force my colleagues to like my creations and hate those who didn’t have my name on them. Because that’s how I used to roll).