poi qualcuno mi spiegherà com’è che funziona la testa di merda degli uomini, prima o poi.
cioè
in generale magari è complicato capirla
ma sul sesso almeno mi pareva fosse piuttosto chiaro
diobono se ti voglio scopare sarà chiaro
invece forse no.

qualche numero di bicchieri
e erbetta felice
e bong non ricordo quando o se, con il rum che manco il capitan jack sparrow
fantastico
e
wow cioè che figata di vita
come
un viaggio che entra nella terra e nello stesso tempo galleggia
una cosa fantastica che però poi tu vorresti andasse avanti solo che poi non funziona sempre troppo bene. so che forse se la gente sapesse leggermi nella testa sarebbe tutto più semplice,, o forse se seguissi il consiglio di antonietta tutto funzionerebbe da dio.
però figata il fatto che davide approvi.

dopo sta festa figa domani passerò settanta ore a pulire, 20 minuti di goduria a farmi la pasta con il resto dello spezzatino (sempre che ne resti, spero che non l’abbiate finito, stronzi, o subirete la mia ira. e poi cercherò da qualche parte una bottiglia di vino non aperto da dare ai vicini. poverini, ad avere della vita vicina si saranno preoccupati. bussavano per farci uscire o per cercare di entrare? non so.

comunque c’è da dire che questo gruppo è qualcosa di fantastico
proprio
cazzo
che fortuna capitarci dentro
incredibile
pbravi tutti

minchia che delirio

- Is the funniest dialogue I have heard of late. It is mouthed in the most mechanical tone by Himesh Reshamiya in the rushes for the film Radio.

- Is also the name of the film which stars the hottest old woman in town, Meryl Streep.

- Is the state of my mind at the moment. I am extremely sorry (to myself mostly) for this delayed post of the day but the work was crazy this afternoon.

- Is also the apt description of how I felt this evening. I had a wonderful time catching up with a friend over wine and cheese but as she talked about her latest adventure of climbing mountains, it made me realize how little I have done with my own life lately. Nevertheless, I got my first birthday gift of 2009, and a fantastic one at that. I am now a proud owner of the coffee table book 501 Must Visit Destinations, and I also have Ilam tea, freshly packed in Nepal. I now know how to start my Saturday morning.

I know this does not count much for a post but please read between lines and try to figure out what I have been doing this evening. It may give you an insight into my current state.

One day we will sit and remember the good times, and all of this won’t seem so bad.

This is an angry post. This post is being written under the complete influence of the drug called ‘rage’ and will not make any sense.

Above : Iron Man poster being used to depict rage…for the lack of a better option

Anger has happened.

Mr. wikipedia simply defines it as “anger is an emotion”.  (and then it goes on to explain how horribly wrong it is to have that emotion right next to aids… seriously, who wrote that shit?).

Further research into ‘wrath’ from Mr. Wikipedia reveals ‘wrath’ as “an inordinate and uncontrolled feeling of hatred or anger“. Therefore, by applying a simple theorem (if A=B, B=C then A=C), we get the definition of ‘wrath’ as “an inordinate and uncontrolled feeling of hatred or emotion“. Now, as I love to say, that’s just WHACK.

In the midst of all this ambiguity and A=B=C, I’d like to also put-forth my definition of anger.
Anger (pronounced as hanger without the ‘h’) is defined as the uncontrollable feeling to smash a baseball bat on somebody’s face and continue doing so till the face looks like a pulp and becomes two-dimensional… followed by having a full bottle of J. Walker on that particular ’somebody’s’ dead body… alone. (Beware : vengeance is defined as something completely more severe).

So Why am I angry ?
I am angry because today I witnessed some innocent people becoming victims of somebody’s greed.

To clarify. I am not angry at that “somebody” who I wanna beat to a pulp so bad. I’m angry at myself.

There’s a very famous saying / proverb / pearl of wisdom / drunken utterance in hindi which essentially means … “Whenever you see a snake , kill it (for it’s gonna bite u anyways when it grows up … or longer).”
I guess I didn’t pay too much attention to that one.

I’m itching to write in detail, but alas I can’t. I really wanna just let it all out. But I’ll have to refrain.

I know it don’t make no sense. But that’ll be all folks (or folk!)

]]> http://acidesulfurique.wordpress.com/2009/05/08/giovani-gelataie-alcoolizzate/ Thu, 07 May 2009 23:34:42 +0000 acidesulfurique http://acidesulfurique.wordpress.com/2009/05/08/giovani-gelataie-alcoolizzate/

Mai lasciare una donna sola ed ubriaca ad aspettare prima di uscire per troppo a lungo….

c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:05):
cula
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:05):
WORLD
HOLD ONNNN
VANILLAAAAAAAA MAKE SOME NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOISEEEEE
dimmi deh
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:05):
quando vai?
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:06):
boh quando mi chiama angelo
ma ieri tornando in bus
che c’era uno che parlava usando come intercalare
ZIO
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:06):
no deh
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:06):
no ma zio cioè stasera sono uscito zio
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:06):
che annoying
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:06):
per andare fuori con gli amici zio che esco sempre con la tipa zio per una volta che non uscivo con lei zio
ci siamo troppo rotti il cazzo zio non c’era in giro nessuno zio
e io tipo AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
DIAF
codio che mal di testa che ho
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:07):
ASD
BELLA LI
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:07):
è dalle cinque che bevo zia
cena con havana cola
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:07):
ASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:08):
ora delle quattro vorrò morire
capirai alcool gratis poi là

(…)

AUHAUHAUAHUAH CAZZO MI STROZZO CON LO SPATTOLIJNHO
bene
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:13):
ahuahuahuah
SPATTHOLINHO
IL NUOVO GIOCATORE DELL’INTER
ASD
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:14):
fresco fresco dal brasile
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:14):
AUHAuhauhauhUHAIUAHGSCLUZGSHACLJUHASKJC
LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
auhauhauhUhuHUAHAUHUhuahuHUHhauhauhauhauhaAUHAUHAUAHA
CAZZO STO CAPLOCKE NON STA ATTENTO
ACCESO
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:14):
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTENTIIIIIIIIII
attento
eh no
proprio un bambino cattivo
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:14):
auhauhauha
AUHAUHAUAHUAHUAHAUH
SI APPLICHI UN PO’ DI PIÙ
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:15):
adesso salta fuori e ti dice “SCULACCIAMI MIA PADRONA”
ASD
OH MA
PENSA SE FOSSE VENUTO ANAS
cosa che ha già fatto, in parte
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:16):
AUHAUHAUHahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH
ma
cosa volevo dire
ah
spero che ci sia davide al vanilla
così almeno mi trucca
che io diocano non ho neanche la matita
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:16):
al vanilla
e dov’è’
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:18):
dov’è chi
cosa
la ,matita?
davide?
dov’è il vanilla?
oh il concessionario che c’è vicino a casa mia
cioè
lootanto
lontano
è della bmw?
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:19):
quale?
quello giù?
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:19):
dopo la shell
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:19):
che cazzo ne so
boh
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:20):
garage rivapiana
cazzo non sai nente
I
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:20):
eh
SCUSA SE NN ABITO IN QUEL KAFF DI MINUSIO
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:20):
boh si potrebbe essere della bmw
cazzo ma sono chilometri da
qui
crollerò a metà astrada
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:21):
ASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:21):
cazzo ma non posso uzscire senz amatita
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:22):
ASD
SMETTILA
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:22):
iajscluhgsilucfHGjalksjcöilua(jkncs
bello lavorare domani
OH MA IL CUOCO NUOVO
CODIO CHE FIGO
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:23):
ASD ANAS
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:24):
ma
mm cosa volevo dire
AH
prima claudia mi ha insegnato un espressione in svizzerotedesco
che vuol dire tipo vaffanculo
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:25):
ASD DIMMI
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:25):
du kannst in meine schue qualcosa
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:25):
LAEK MER
blasen
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:25):
soffiare
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:25):
BLASEN
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:25):
si
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:25):
si
mia nonna è meno
fine
DU CHASCH MER I ARSCH BLASE
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:26):
AUHAHAUHAUHAUAHUAHUAH
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:26):
nn so se farmi la pizza
o il risotto
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:27):
ma tipo se mangio ora sbocco
TI FACCIO UNO SQUILLO COL TELEFONO DI PIERO QUANDO PARTIAMO
ottima idea de
codio che freddo con sta camicia
coido che mal di testa
dici che havana cola + red bull +aspirina
stona?
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:28):
sec me arrivi li
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:28):
non va mene?
B
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:28):
e sbocchi addosso al buttafuori
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:28):
sbocco addosso a l’unico che mi posso fare ovvero angelo
SECVEN SBOCCO
la claudia prima
tu ha facebook
no
tu prende facebook
no non mi piace
tu prende facebook.
no ma non
TU PRENDE FACEBOOK PERCHÈ LUI HA COLLEZIONE PIÙ GRANDE DI FOTO SEVEN IN VANILLA
ok…
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:30):
poi tipoi un’ora per farle capire
che quando loro andavano in taxi
io lo prendevo con loro fino a casa
poimi facevo una doccia
e poi aspettavo angelo che mi passava a prendere
minchiaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
hai capito? chiaro?
no io capito niente
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:31):
mi sta venendo l’abbiocco
adesso vado a casa
cvioè
a dormire
AUHAUAHUAHUAH
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:31):
smettila
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:31):
VADO A CASA DEH
CIAO

(…)

Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
basta
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
LO SAPEVO
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
ciao angelo
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
ASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
non vengo
come non vieni
eh
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
CIOè
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
non ho covgolia
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
SE MMI FAI VENIRE VENGO
ASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
più
cioè
se hai voglia
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
ASDASDASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
anzi no posso
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:33):
aiaiajiajiajiauahuahuah
CODIO SE NN CE LA FAI
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
parliamone versop fine settimana prossima
kthnxnbai
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:33):
fov’è la nivea
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:34):
EH?
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:34):
non trovato la nivea
v
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:34):
auhauahuahauh
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:34):
NiVVVVVVea
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:35):
cazzo sono problemi seri
voglio farmi una canna
cosi sbocco davvero
abocco harcore
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:35):
SBOCCO HARDDDDDDCORE
[c=#FF0080]*Shei*_^Smeraldi e Cocaina^_[/c] scrive (01:35):
ABBOCCO
ASDASDASD
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:35):
AUHAUAHAHUAHAUH
ABBOCCO ARCORE
Gatta d’ambra scrive (01:36):
MA NON CE LA FACCIO
domani sul blog

I have a dinner date with Person #1 (P#1) tomorrow! Oh, fuck me, I’m drunk. I thought going out for post-symphony drinks with TL would result in (a) not drunk; (b) an early enough night to catch the bus home. So much for that on both counts. . .in the morning, I have grocery shopping (farmers’ market), gym (swimming, during which I will think about how I’m dealing with the internalized societal pressure to present femme prettiness, which coincides with my working out for the first time in months, which has resulted in me losing weight WTF. BUT IT IS NOT BECAUSE I AM TRYING TO LOOK ATTRACTIVE FOR P#1 I SWEAR. UGH GROSS. NOT THAT I DON’T MIND LOOKING NICE, BUT I’LL BE DAMNED BEFORE I DO IT SPECIFICALLY TO ATTRACT ANYONE RATHER THAN FOR MYSELF. AND NICE !=THIN–my specific body and metabolism tend to manifest in a thin-but-stocky-and-muscled body when I work out, but I’m not working out with the goal of losing weight. Actually, the lovely clothes I bought a few weeks ago are no longer fitting properly because I’ve been working out and have lost fat .)

At any rate . . . I have a dinner & movies date with P#1 today/tomorrow. I think I like him. Read-as-straight privilege is bothering me some. It’s bloody weird. We kissed good night/good bye on Mission St. last night, i.e. in public, and although I would have done the same with a woman, the fact remains that it’s not a boldly political-is-personal act to kiss a man out in public, and no one would see it as unusual (aside from the interracial business), and that is straight privilege. I don’t have to think about it, I don’t have to worry about my safety beyond the usual worrying-about-my-safety-because-I’m-a-woman-of-color-in-public business, and it makes me sick that, as a queer woman who likes men and women and genderqueer people, I can pass as straight and receive all the privilege thereupon attendant, even when I don’t want it and even when it feels like a lie, because I’m not heterosexual. I might be dating (me, dating? WTF, that’ll take some getting used to!) a man and might be read as heterosexual, but that’s still not what I am, with regard to sexual orientation.

I fucking hate the boxes of orientation and gender identity, and I wish that we could just be, without labels and without worrying, but I recognize that I can kiss P#1 without thinking about my safety or his. I can introduce him to my parents, should I wish to (no way, thanks), and they will not only welcome him with open arms the way they welcome my heterosexual brother’s girlfriends, they will be relieved that I’ve brought home a man because they know I could have brought home a woman. A cis man, at that, because god only knows my mother’s head would explode if I brought home a trans woman or trans man.

I just…I don’t know what to say. I’m drunk and probably will be hungover tomorrow, and I really, really like P#1, but I can’t cast away the read-as-straight privilege, as much as I would like to. I went to my parents’ house for a parental birthday a while ago, and for the first time ever, I could have answered the interminable, “So, are you dating anyone?” questions from family friends with, “Yes, actually.” I didn’t want to answer the question because (a) NOT THEIR BUSINESS, THANKS; (b) it would have reinforced their Yes-on-Prop.-8-voting perceptions of me as straight and heteronormative [they voted yes], when … that’s really not what I am. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT. I’m bloody queer down to my bones, organize protests for same-sex marriage, and being read as straight just to assuage someone’s discomfort with queers bothers me. I’m not straight and never will be; P#1’s gender isn’t why I like him. I like him because he makes me smile and laugh and I’m comfortable around him. But he happens to be male and so my feelings for him don’t exist in a vacuum. Parental, societal, etc. pressure exist to validate my affection for him solely due to two accidents of birth (his and mine, re: opposite sex and cis-ness), and I HATE THAT.

I recognize that the best I can do is to fight against straight privilege and not take advantage of it, but that is cold fucking comfort. I like P#1, he likes me, but . . . we don’t exist independent of the heterosexist, heteronormative air we breathe, even in SF, and I can’t ignore it. I can’t ignore the privilege conferred upon me for liking a man, no matter how much I wish it didn’t exist. I wouldn’t date someone just to make a political point, as that is shitty and inconsiderate of the feelings of the other party and I don’t like being in a relationship so much that I would pursue one if I didn’t care about the other party first and foremost, but . . . I just wish it weren’t a loaded choice. Might as well wish for pigs to fly.

Dejectedly yours,
PD

Uh , regarding my post below , please excuse the mess that it is , I had a case of the “BudLIght , patron , 911 ” As “Highly” inebreated as I was I am amazed it is remotely coherent !
Posting from Reno Nevada this weekend ! not here for fun ( unfortunate family matters ), so posting will also be on the light side for me !

….

…Fuck off, man! Pas de drunk post ce soir!!!

Je reviens du BlogOff #3.

Plus de détails à venir…

.

So Tom and Zach and Mat and I went to Triple XXX at about 1:30 in the morning, after getting thrown out of Jake’s for Tom (Athanasios) plorking in the stall and made a huge scene being so drunken and rambunctious it was impossible to ignore us, and Greg Ehresman still allowed me and my three white compatriots to pay for our peanut butter hamburgers in peace without breaking a window with us whilst being so very obnoxious about the racist establishment we were eating at. If us four were not Greek, Irish, etc, and Nubian, Kenyan, or Zimbabwean, we wouldn’t be so lucky. I don’t care what the courts say, I’m 30 dollars poorer and my ass is 0% kicked, n0 windows were broken. If we were black, that would have been November 2, 2008 all over again.

Tantôt dans le bus (prononcer bosse ), (ou LA busse, selon votre région québécoise), j’ai vu le Stade Olympique. Et qu’est-ce qu’il y a tout juste à côté du Stade? Et oui, le Biodôme!! C’est alors qu’ont refaits surface des souvenirs que je n’oublierai probablement jamais.

Nous sommes à l’été 2004 (Je crois. Du moins, c’est la date qui fait le plus de sens à mon avis, bref). Cet été là en a été  un de plusieurs découvertes, dont les champignons magiques. Malheureusement, ceux-ci n’ayant absolument rien à voir dans l’histoire, revenons à nos moutons. Une des découvertes les plus géniales qu’on a fait cet été là, fût de savoir qu’il était physiquement (et facilement) possible de grimper sur le toit du Biodôme. Il n’en fallait pas plus pour une gang de 7 gars de 18-19 ans pour tenter l’expérience au moins une fois. Ce que nous avons fait avec plaisir!

Le Biodôme, pour ceux qui ne le savent pas, est fait en forme de casque de vélo. À une extrémité, il y a une “pointe”, qui se termine dans un bassin (vide depuis des années). À l’autre extrémité, il y a 3 pointes, se terminant elles aussi dans des bassins tout aussi vides. (voyez CECI pour mieux comprendre). Le plan était le suivant : Se rendre au bassin le plus isolé (le no1 sur la carte précédente), puis grimper jusqu’en haut du Biodôme. Simple? Pas tant que ça. Le calcul qu’on n’avait pas tout à fait prévu dans notre plan était que la surface du Biodôme est extrêmement lisse, et par le fait même, relativement glissante. Par contre, malgré quelques bières dans le corps et avec l’aide de bons souliers, nous avons tout de même réussi à nous hisser jusque sur le toit, non sans lâcher quelques sacres au passage. Nous avons suivi le chemin SUIVANT.

Le premier sentiment qui nous à tous gagné lorsque rendus au point culminant: Allume le joint. Deuxième sentiment : WOW! Ostie qu’on a l’impression d’être vraiment seuls! Impossible pour les passants de nous voir (même s’il était 2 heures du mat’, il y avait quelques passants), même les policiers ne portaient absolument pas attention à quoi que ce soit qui aurait pu se produire dans notre direction, vu l’improbabilité que quelque chose se produise à cet endroit. C’est ce qu’ils pensaient du moins!

Après cette première soirée sur le toit, nous y sommes retourné à quelques reprises, je dirais 5 ou 6 fois, tout au plus. Toujours avec ce sentiment de solitude qui fait tant de bien malgré tout ce qui nous entourait. C’était une solitude orgueilleuse. L’orgueil de savoir que nous étions si peu à connaître la vérité : la possibilité de se trouver à cet endroit insolite. Une fois, nous avions même écrit nos noms sur le toit, question de bien marquer notre passage. Le hasard aura voulu que cette fois soit la dernière que nous grimpions là-haut. Une histoire de gardien de sécurité bedonnant qui ne comprenait pas qu’on ne faisait rien de mal, simplement… vivre notre vie.

Si je vous raconte tout ça, c’est que je sais qu’aujourd’hui il est pratiquement impossible de se rendre sur le toit. L’année suivante, la ville a installé des grillages tout autour des quatre bassins entourant le Biodôme. Enfermant ainsi nos souvenirs de l’été précédent derrière des barreaux infranchissables.

For a while now I’ve been wondering what that other Japanese students think of me in the dorm. I’ve been living here for about 6 months, and I hardly know any of them. I could only assume from their perspective I am a grumpy, creepy, always unhappy, perverted otaku who doesn’t know Japanese, and a hikikomori which all these things are generally true. Still it bothers me because I came here with some high hopes to really become friends with Japanese students, but like I said in a previous entry back in the fall perhaps it is me who is the one that isn’t being open, and I am actually the one shutting people out from trying to get to know me.

I’m not going to deny the certain level of favoritism that Japanese students in the dorms have with certain study abroad students though. There has been babble and talks about garbage in the dorm meetings about not including Japanese students in our discussions or not talking Japanese enough when they’re around or whatever by some girls I don’t even see ever in the dorms. So, I really don’t know what they’re talking about. I really should speak out more in these meetings because they’re a complete waste of time when I have to sit through this garbage that I have no idea where they’re getting it from. I should just walk out because it’s not like any Japanese students in the dorms have really made an effort to get to know me. Hell, I don’t even see a lot of them so how can I make this great effort to include them? And now that they’re on vacation for three months I never see them around. I’m always around in the community room if it’s playing my DS or doing homework so there is no excuse.

But hell, Japanese people are people too (despite claims otherwise I mean, they bombed our American harbor) and the same thing happens no matter where you go. Some people just click with certain people so why should someone go out of their way to get to know someone that doesn’t really interest them. I do it. You do. The whole world does it. So why am I getting caught up in this problem? Why does it piss me off so much?

I suppose because in this way my Japanese isn’t getting any better. It’s a tough problem because if I were in a home stay I probably would be getting the practice I want, but I’m not good in those kinds of situations. I couldn’t handle a home stay. I wanted a home stay at first but after hearing stories from people I’m glad I didn’t get one. In home stay, I could see myself falling into depressing a lot more there than I have in the dorms. At least in the dorms, I have made friends and done things on my own without the supervision of a Japanese family with set rules and guidelines.

I regret not getting to know anyone here who likes anime and is Japanese. I mean, that would be a great starting point. I would really like to know what anime fans in Japan feel about their own media and see if they feel the same kinds of feelings I do or if it is different. It would be a common interest to build off of, but I haven’t really met anyone to the same level of knowledge and fondness for anime that I have. I’m not surprised though. Seeing how liking anime past a certain age is considered dirty. There are like 3 or 4 people here in the dorms but I haven’t really talked to them. I’ve only heard that they are actually “very otaku” and always watching anime in this one guy’s room. I caught them watching Toradora one time… One of them I asked out but was rejected. *cough* I really don’t see myself being allowed in their circle at this rate.

So all in all, I’m just ranting. I’m angry. I’m lonely. Valentine’s Day is getting ever closer and I seem to be getting bitter and bitter as the time goes by. Hopefully when these new Japanese students who are picked to live in the dorm starting in a few weeks are actually a little interesting and are people I can relate to, but by that time I’ll probably be packing and ready to return home…

You cannot beat Lougheedgate. Do not even try, candidates from this year. We here at the RBT give ‘cookiegate’ a: 92% on fabrication, 12% on journalistic integrity, 77% on blogification, 21% on student participatory engagement, 84% jam ratio and 100% on not an issue. That which is a real issue, however, is how out of date the AMS electoral code is. Why the word “polling station” still exists, when modern polling stations are ubiquitous, is beyond this editorial team.

Also, vote for us tomorrow. We’re pretty cool, and the surplus we generate will go to beer. A better cause than the coffers of the other VFM editors.

From the Elections Committee:

On Sunday evening, a campaigning irregularity complaint was submitted to the Elections Committee. The complaint stated that VP Academic candidate Johannes Rebane and friends were in Vanier commons block and going door to door asking students to vote on their laptop, and giving cookies to students. The committee was made aware of this from another candidate, who provided contact information for two apparent witnesses that reported this action to the candidate.

The committee followed up by discussing the allegations with the candidate in question, who denied partaking in such activities, and provided credible accounts of where he was at the times the infraction was alleged to occur. To follow up, the committee contacted the eyewitnesses. The eyewitnesses provided their accounts of what occurred at Vanier commons block.
It is the committee’s decision that at this time there is very little evidence supporting the claim that Johannes engaged in such behaviour. As well, there are highly conflicting narratives of what actually occurred, questionable biases, and extremely vague descriptions of the time frames. Specifically, the allegations that they went door to door are unfounded due to the lack of wireless internet access in the residence buildings. In addition, upon contacting a number of different authorities at Vanier, there are no accounts of anyone working witnessing such activities. The residence associations at the residence buildings across campus have been very active in ensuring campaigning follows strict rules within their jurisdiction, and thus the committee trusts that they would have been aware if such actions had taken place.

Signed,
Elections Committee

Dans la vie, à chaque fois que tu réponds “non” à une opportunité quelconque,  c’est une aventure de moins que tu auras à raconter à tes enfants…

I’m drunk as whell, i’llpost my thoughts tomrrow after work. Watching Fresh Prince right now, aweseome show. Fuck 5 Beta Gamma, cuz of top dwag!!!!

….

Is it just me or did it feel like the Sabres were losing until Vanek put in the empty netter?  I’m going to bed. A long first period equaled 5 big beers.

So, apparently 5 Centimeters per Second is not something you watch when you’re drunk because I feel like SHIT. This is my second time watching it so it is okay to be drunk and watch it. I love this movie regardless.

I am honestly sad, depressed and lonely. This movie made me cry a whole lot more than the first time I watched it, but it is probably because I am drunk.

Part 2 is definitely the weakest part of the movie but at the same time the strongest because I know the feeling of loving someone but not being able to tell them how I feel at the same time.

The whole story just seemed kinda dumb though I mean if the guy loved her why didn’t he tell her? This wouldn’t happen IN AMERICA.

I love this film.

hrmm, wordpress completely changed tha dashboard layout so it took me awhile to configure myself again.

it’s funny… i used to be so passionate about life, about finding my true love and being with that special someone. lately however i have found myself reduced to almost nothing-ness. i accept a passionless relationship for the sake of how much i like someone and yes, i perhaps suffer from it because it will always be an internal conflict if something in my life is devoid of passion. passion is and has always been something i have tried to fill my life with.

i don’t want to take things granted so i try to think, live each day like it’s your last. but then it’s really difficult for me to do because i need to plan things ahead of time. why else should i strive for these damn A’s in pharmacy school ?? to get a residency 2 years down the road from now……

it’s so hard to live like that. but at the same time i want to live in the moment and not regret any decisions i make. you know, live life to the fullest..

so a quesiton i like to ask people when i’m drunk is : if you could be anywhere, where would you be right now? i find some amusing answers to that question. answers to that question show me a lot about how a person thinks and gives me a light into what type of person they are. so what would you say if i asked you where you could be right now??

I really wish I could figure out people.

I wish I could figure out myself.

My friends are here, but I’m being such a dick I don’t even know how they can stand to be here. I don’t even know why I’m being such a dick to everyone. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe it’s because I know I have a lot to do tonight, and I’m going to be up all night as it is. Maybe it’s because my friends (who I mentioned in the previous post) failed me and allowed me to have a small amount to drink (barely enough to phase me, but it still irritates me they care so little). Maybe I expect too much front them. Maybe I expect too much from everyone.

Maybe I’m being such a dick because my girlfriend is picking fights over the smallest stuff. I had a bad day. It happens to everyone. Suddenly she seems to be upset about it. This week has just sucked for the two of us… It’s really been rough. I don’t want to lose her again. I don’t know… I think I’m just fucking tired.

At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

At least I took some cool pictures tonight. I’ll try and post a few of them tom0rrow or later tonight… Who fuckin’ knows. Right now my priority is chasing everyone out of my room so I can get some kind of sleep.

ma che cazzo di schifo fa questo vino………

voglio qualcosa di più buono sulla mia lingua, che guarisca le mie papille gustative che URLANO AAAH AIUTATECI STIAMO MORENDO SOTTO L’INFLUSSO DI VINO BIANCO DA TRE FRANCHI, AIUTO AIUTOOOO

qualcosa di dolce e sano qualcosa di
morbido
mordibo e scivoloso
per esempio una fragola in questo momento sarebbe
sarebbe
succosa dolce e perfetta
cioè come tutte le cose perfette dovrebbero essere
dolci e succose
e in realtà niente nella mia vita è così. o forse lo è stato una volta, ma non era particolarmente dolce, però era bello lo stesso.
certo se fosse dolce E succoso allo stesso momento allora sarebbe perfetto davvero, so con chi forse potrebbe essere così. sono davvero curiosa, davvero davvero davvero di scoprire se sia davvero così. forse non si saprà mai.
je ne sais pas quoi faire de mon putain d’charactère–
forse mai forse presto, nonostante quello che il sorriso della chantal possa dire a cena mentre racconto i cazzi miei, sempre troppo, sempre invadente nel buttare la mia carne addosso alla gente che si prende le bistecche e gli entrêcoté della mia vita in faccia, accettando, sorridendo, chiedendo ancora. perché la gente non mi manda a cagare una buona volta? perché ci stanno sempre a questo gioco del cazzo, in cui io sono sempre l’approfittatrice della buona volontà della gente di cui non vorrei approfittare?
perché poi quando invece non ricopro il ruolo di aggressione e mi lascio andare, quando mi apro all’ingoto, perché allora la prendo sempre su per il canale rettale, e per giunta senza lubrificante di sorta, che possa essere durex o senza acqua o tollerante al lattosio che sia. perché, lubrificante esente da petrolio, tu non salvi il mio deretano? non dico quelle volte in cui me la vado a cercare, che sono, lo ammetto, la maggior parte, ma almeno quelle volte in cui. in cui non è colpa mia. in cui vorrei ma non posso. in cui vorrei ma non vuole, in cui vorrebbe ma non può, in cui vorrebbe ma non sa, in cui potrebbe ma non vuole.
e poi ci sono le volte in cui il bicchiere è vuoto e quelle sono le più tristi di tutte.
e vorrei finire come mickey rourke. no. come
jim morrison, eterna invincibile non mi si può uccidere in nessun caso (ovvero sono immortale).
le parole non mi vengono finché non è il momento di usarle
e mi torna in mente un divano
minuscolo
e a new pair of jaws
e la meraviglia del trovare
il bar sotto il mare
lì
lì
lì dove
non avrebbe dovuto essere, non avrebbe dovuto for the sake of my sanity, mental sanity that is. certe cose in italiano non mi vengono proprio. certe cose non mi vengono e basta. poi a volte non vengo io, ma questo è normale.
è bello quando ti prepari alcoolicamente per affrontare una certa cosa o discorso con la giusta disinvoltura e/o menefreghismo, scioltezza, stronzaggine, pensiero leggiero e poi la tal cosa o discorso spariscono prima che tu abbia l’occasione di farne un’introduzione degna (per esempio 100 pagine di sinossi)

mi manca il fatto di non dover pensare per 8 ore al giorno. ho troppo tempo per pensare. quel tempo e quel pensiero vengono trasformati in seghe mentali, com’è giusto che sia. e invece sarebbe meglio di no. non mentali, per favore non mentali.

per fortuna ci sono i the doors che mi salvano sempre
questo andrà
ma che cazzo dico, i doors mi salvano sempre, se non li conosco neanche, ho 4 brani in croce sull’ipod. chissà perché si dice “in croce” per dire “poco”. quel che jesus ha fatto nella sua vita non lo considererei poco, o quello che hanno fatto i molti che vengono nominati come jesus. come gesù, che brutta che è la dicitura italiana, proprio graficamente parlando, non la si puô guardare e possibilmente nemmeno sentire.

dicevo, jesu se mai è esistito avrebbe in ogni caso approvato questo post. forse no. probabilmente no. sicuramente no, ok.

this post is approved by jesus

this t shirt is approved by jesus

voglio un maglietta, voglio tante magliette, voglio andare a milano, voglio un airdale terrier, voglio tante cose. chissà se domani mia madre torna a casa con un cane nuovo. marchio 3 anni come lo chiamiamo.
lo chiamiamo levi. levi mi piace. voglio un nome ebraico per sto cane, SAFRAN. safran. safran come johnatan safran foer. un nome letterario, ancora, com’è giusto, come aristotele ares calipso. i gatti col nome dato da me sono i migliori, peccato muoiano sempre male. o vengano uccisi, diciamo. ares tu tieni duro.

questo post va pubblicato immediatamente prima che io diventi sobria.

Yeah there are some problems, it being… a city, but this is shit.

VIA