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Archive for April, 2011

Looks can kill

I bought a nice pair of shoes. Not because  i needed a pair of nice-looking shoes, but because i have 47th shoe size. (Internet tells me it’s 12th for UK people and 13th for American people. Japanese have no such shoe size per se.) And i can’t walk with my combat boots in summer.

So, as i have nice shoes now, i’m even more inclined to walk around in a suit, with my beautiful & awesome fedora hat.

And it sucks, because now every bum on the street asks me for money/cigarettes. I went to buy some patches for my hurting feet – hard leather shoes do that, while they haven’t been worn comfortable yet. And while i went the two blocks from my home to the store, three people managed to ask me for something. And…ehh, with my kind heart, i just cannot say no. But it IS damn irritating.

At the very least, they consider me to be a bad-ass gentleman, and all call me “sir” which is unusual. And…nice, in a way. 🙂

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This just popped in my head. More or less is a prequel for my Offlock – which is a series that will be continued, if you’ll enjoy the para-psychological idea and the real it’s-in-your-head horror.


There are some things in this world that make even a weird person like me smile. Sometimes, it is enough to add: “Enough of this self-pity!” to a sentence to make it awesome. Sometimes, you want to come out of your corner, and just stop crying about how much of a bitch the life is for a second.
Most of the times, the things and the times like that are women and when you meet them. Being happy in a relationship is fucking important. Other times, it’s more like the feeling you have, when you wake up in the morning, and the first thing you do after waking up is having a cup of coffee and lighting up your morning cigarette. Feels so good. Feels almost godlike. These moments are the wonderful, excellent, beautiful little things that make you feel invincible; it’s when the whole world spins around you, and you are on top of it, giving the orders and organizing your own life.

But that doesn’t happen often.

And they won’t let you build upon it.

And otherwise, everything sucks.

But i live for those moments, and crave nothing else, but to feel them now and then again. This must read terribly like something written by Chuck…with the weird surname, which i cannot pronounce. Too bad it’s just ugly little me.

And i’m in your head too.

It all started when i decided to visit that little store. It was a strange advertisement: “Madame Kurz Sells Time!” it said. Nothing like the other things i’ve seen. Sure, there were some interesting cases about selling the land on Moon and Venus and whatnot, but…time. Wow. It must make a great and funny birthday gift, i thought.
So i went to the location which the paper informed me about. It changed things. Changed me. Changed you too. Except that you’ll find out about it later.

Yes, this is a fucking diary. Fuck you. Fuck you and your cynicism. Fuck you and your idealism. Just…Fuck You! Written in all-caps this can be seen on every wall, every fence…everywhere. But then again, fuck me too.

The woman opened the door. She looked quite old, yet elegant for her age. About sixty, maybe sixty five, she wore a long dress, blue like the midnight and awe inspiring like the old Russian nobility. I could recognize her from somewhere, yet i did not know from exactly where – and not that it mattered. I told her the reason of my arrival, and that one was important. At that time.
There was a beautiful young woman, who would celebrate her 24th birthday soon enough, and i had to buy her a gift. I fancied her, and wanted to seem more awesome to her than I actually was.

So, what the hell, I though. Maybe someting fancy, but that would make her think i’m a stalker – and not like in the video game – or something. It had to be original, and yet, polite. So, i needed some time. For her. For me. For me and her, hell, i didn’t need time, i needed a gift, and Madame Kurz warned me about it. She told me that in my face: “You don’t seek time, you seek a gift. I don’t sell gifts, so, please, i can offer you some Tea, but don’t expect to receive what you haven’t come here for.”

Of course, i thought she was joking. She wasn’t. Not that it mattered – i thought she’d sell me a card or something of that sort…the rather-pointless-gift shops are full with crap nobody needs, nor wants, yet people buy those things like the mindless drones they are. I asked for tea. A black one. With two spoons of sugar and some milk. We sat in her comfortable living room, she taking the comfy purple velvet-covered chair next to the cofee table, while i sat on the sofa – it seemed that all of this furniture was old. Really old. Ancient, yet, well preserved. I didn’t know what to say, so i kept my mouth shut, and waited for an offer of some sort. Maybe three euros, maybe four – i don’t know how much fancy greeting cards cost these days.
But she said nothing; she was just sitting there and silently looking at a painting of a beautiful blonde lady on the wall. Almost like a photograph, the painting was fascinating beyond all doubt. I’ve yet to see such a beautiful woman in my life, her blonde hair slightly covering her pale face and, of course, sapphirre blue eyes. Madame Kurz looked at me, and decided to speak. “What do you like the most about the picture?” An unexpected question indeed, yet, i’ve been through all kinds of trouble, and this seemed like a nice adventure to tell to your pals in a smoky, poorly lit bar over a pint of beer. So, i honestly answered, and waited what would happen next: “It’s the eyes, i suppose – they seem so lifelike. And it’s true that men are drawn to beautiful women, and by my standards, this one is extraordinarily charming one.”
She smiled, and replied with almost no sound coming from her lips, the answer was more silent than a whisper, i could barely hear it, yet i understood everything completely: “It’s my grandmother. Good old days when the artists were more precise, and didn’t draw such incomprehensible things. You’ll meet her in due time, and I assure you, nothing of that beauty is lost.”
That was weird, and made me feel terribly uneasy – like in the horror movies, when you’ve no idea what will happen next, because you know that the movie you are watching is not a random slashterpiece, but instead a quality film, probably from Spain, probably directed by Guillermo Del Toro.

Chose to ignore the remark.

Asked for some time instead; I had to give that girl something she’d remember, something awesome.

And i got some time. All the time in the world, even. No gifts. Like she promised. And it wasn’t that nice either.

Time feels like when you’re taking a shower, but then the hot water gets turned off and the soap gets in your eyes, but at the same time you’re getting the most genius idea ever.
She sold me that feeling, packaged in a small, brightly orange cube. I bought the cube for about 20 euros, but at that point, money started to lose all value. The small cube seemed to be made out of plastic, i wasn’t scrathcable, and was extremely lightweight. Madame Kurz smiled like it was her birthday when she gave that to me. She also said that people who are not allowed to, don’t see the advertisement – or, more precisley, they don’t see the advertisement when it’s not their time to see it. And it made sense, as…she literally sold me some time.
Not that surrealistic, if you ask me. You buy the mass of meat and vegetables, the lenght of a movie, the experience of a thrilling ride in the fair…why can’t people just buy a little time for themselves?
It’s the time that the soldier who received that bullet could’ve lived. It’s the time that the person in the bed next to yours in the hospital could’ve had, before the cancer got him. Time doesn’t care, and it doesn’t flow either. It is. And it can be lost, found and obviously sold. And i bought some.

I promise, i’ll never do that again.

And she’s better off with someone else anyway.

It’s hard to explain this to you, as you read this sentence by sentence, letter by letter, but i’ve made it as a complete text, as a monument to whatever made me understand how things are and whatever will happen next – or before.
Basically, i just took the small cube, said thanks, paid the money and left the Madame’s apartment. The picture of her grandmother still somehow remained in my head, and although it was a shame that i didn’t get a neat card to enhance my awesome gift, the thought was original, and now i had a story to tell.

But to whom?
It was dark, when i left the old lady’s place. I went to the closest bus stop, i needed to get on the 31st one to get back home. Walked to the stop in a hasty pace, because i wanted to play some games before going to sleep. The stop was empty, and i didn’t know what time it is….was. I must have spent more time looking at the picture and drinking tea than i should, but the last bus leaves at 23.45, and i was pretty sure that it wasn’t as late, because the store where i bought cigarettes while coming here was still open.
When the bus arrived, it was empty. I was too lazy to buy a ticket, so i decided to cheat some money out of our beloved government, and ride without one. Not that the driver cared, he surely has more troubles than caring about a single passenger in one of the last buses.
The drive home usually takes about 40 minutes from the university, and this was a bit further. So, i had some time to read – buses are ideal locatons for your studies, because then your annoying roommates aren’t disturbing you, and while your mp3 player is working, you’re immune to most outside effects. I took my book on the history of warfare and started studying it again.
But the bus crash soon after made me forget the original intent…the driver was dead, and everything around me was blue as a midnight and awe inspiring as old style Russian nobility. We had crashed into a tree. And the orange cube began glowing. It would do so every time it stole someone’s time – but the first time was horrid. My phone was dead, i couldn’t call the police – so, i decided just to wait here, until they arrive themselves – because running from a crime scene is never a good idea.
Except the times when it is.

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Adventuring day!

Today, i got pulled out of the house to participate in the shooting of mass scenes of a music video. That’s going to be in a movie.  And those two hours were damn good fun – and i also happened to be useful, because my chainmail armband reflects light and is visible – ergo, was used as a spot marker for the lead female.

And as if that wasn’t it, i got my first experience with an automatic firearm today. It’s an Ak – 4, which is basically the Swedish version of H&K G3A3. And…it’s crappy. You see, you stop loving firearms so much, after you’ve cleaned one. Got a nice facebook/frype pic from it though. So, without further ado, here’s the beast, and here’s me:

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Well, i’ve found a person who hasn’t seen The Lord of The Rings. Funny, isn’t it? Doesn’t seem possible, and yet, is so true.

Skipped my Spanish class yesterday – instead, i went to our European Union house, and watched Vete de mi. It’s a nice movie, except no one with a slightest hint of sanity understands wtf that movie is about.

In other news…there are no other news. I have no life, goddamnit, and that makes me sad. Oh well. Beer, anyone? Or, better yet, a date? 😀

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This is an awesome text by Dmitriy Gorchev. I, as a post-soviet person, born in the largest, now nonexistant country in the world, enjoyed it a lot, and decided to translate it to English for you, not-harsh-enough foreign people. (Kidding, i love you guys!)  I had to add some notes, tho. Russian, unlike English, is a complicated language with lots and lots of awesome names and hidden meanings, so yeah. The notes are in italic.

btw: here’s the original in Russian, if you can read that, do so! http://gorchev.lib.ru/txt/by1/lom.shtml

Scrap

Since the Communists left us, our lives lack order and causality.

When the Communists, for example, cut off the heating, then they cut off the electricity right afterwards, so nobody would turn their electric heaters on – and disabled the gas. Because it is understandable that, while they haven’t announced communism on the radio, somewhere out there are some irresponsible bastards, who’ll start to warm their asses by turning on the oven, instead of sending this gas, for example, to orderly Finnish bourgeois or buying our beloved ladies Finnish boots, so that our beloved ladies’s legs wouldn’t freeze, and so that our beloved ladies’s genitals wouldn’t freeze, so that our beloved ladies would give birth (literally – spawn births, as in – en masse) to healthy children, and lots of them, otherwise all of USSR would be overrun by Uzbeks – but i have to add that i don’t have anything against Uzbeks,  they grow great cotton for our soldier’s clothing, and for sargeant’s coats and officer’s suits.

These days, nobody knows how to think this globally.

And if someone had frozen deeply, he just could’ve taken a crowbar and crushed the ice on and around his porch (remember that we’re speaking about apartment buildings here, no private houses) : then he wouldn’t break his arm over there, the next day, neighbors will be happy as well – and just think how warm you’ll feel, while doing this. And afterwards, you’d come home, light a candle, pull the self-made sauerkraut (what sort of a stupid name this is? I mean, they are just…err…acidified cabbage) – possibly with added cranberries – out of the green enamelled bucket that’s on your balcony to eat while you’re drinking ice-cold vodka, and afterwards you could sing and dance, and afterwards you could fuck you wife under а quilt blanket, and still go to work on the next day. And it’s great in the workplace: there’s both light and warmth, and you’ll get a glass of whipped cream in the buffet, just pull your cog, grind your teeth more, and draw your design plan make it huge, clean and awesome, like the Flying Island of Sun! And they’ll make a generalized plate out of it, like the one on the front of the pedagogue institute, with a sledgehammer and a divider.

But nobody uses a crowbar anymore, utterly no one.

But earlier, millions of people were walking around with a crowbar, a pick (and two other tools, which i seriously don’t know how to translate in russian, so i hope someone will help me out.)

By the way, can anyone of you break the ice around your porch properly? Fuck. No one. But in earlier days, everyone could do that, and everyone sung and went to the parades, and gave birth to healthy children. And lots of them.

And we were born healthy as well.

When we were born, we screamed in bass, sucked thick fingers and ground tree branches with our teeth. And then we stooped, wrinkled, put glasses on our noses, our hair got grizzled and we became frustrated neurotics and latent schizophrenics.  How’s life? – they ask us. Wel, all’s well, we answer.

 

This…is mostly understandable, if you at least have soviet-born parents. My dad used to tell me stories about the live in USSR. And the movies are quite nice too. We like it here. 🙂

Hope you enjoyed this mumbling. Thank you, Ieva, for letting me stay at your place for these two early pre-work hours, for my dad is a bastard, and i was freezing on the street otherwise.

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I have Kontrust – Vodka, Tribe and Dynamite playing in my earphones (I love you, guys! ^_^) and i’m ready to do some funny tutorials again. People around me have proven that it is necessary to explain some basics of how-not-to-fail-at whatever. (I’m speaking about you, bro, Kristen and certain dude with afro hair!) So, without further ado, here are, in my not so humble opinion, top 10 things people tend to to completely wrong when trying to get a date/get laid/have a stable relationship. And i’m not discriminating, no – we all make fuck-up’s. Besides, most of this comes, unfortunately, from personal experience.

10. People are too shy.

You do not want to be like this...


Now and then, people ask me how should they go and find a date.  That’s perfectly normal, as you all know i can’t shut up anyways, so i just give the said advice. But when a person is SO worried that i have to log on to his facebook account to invite a girl to be his friend, and then, help him start conversations with her…when bloody people are so shy, they’re seriously jumping out of their pants whenever a female person approaches…that’s insanity, men! And women! Bloody hell, if you’re a woman, and you like someone, just go and say it to the said male. I’m pretty sure that most non-gay men, reading my blog would agree that there’s nothing to be afraid of. For one, that would give you bonus points and would be fun!

What some of these men don’t understand, though is that this thing about just speaking with someone works both ways. I mean, even if you do not want anything with a person who has asked you out, it still is pleasant to be asked out for a date. Hearing compliments was also nice, last time i checked. And even if you go on a date, and it doesn’t work out for you, the time spent doing some fun stuff wasn’t that bad, was it? Simply put, if you’re trying to do a nice thing to a person, you shouldn’t expect that they’ll run after you with a sharp stick or a gun or something so horrendous, Cthulhu would be scared. Most likely, worst case is – they’ll say “No, but thank’s for asking!”  That won’t crush your lives, unless you’re a 15-year-old socially awkward person with humongous brain damage issues. Or Justin Bieber, who needs to write a shitty song afterwards.

Being shy, often causes people to commit another grave mistake…and this CAN end badly….

9. People act desperate.

"Ladies, ladies, i understand, but seriously, this is my wife's funeral, FFS!"

It’s hard to tell a person with some emotional problems that sometimes, it’s just not right to even try to do something. This is connected to shyness in the way of people, trying to do things with other people they know quite closely, in the VERY wrong moments, because, in their own deranged minds, it is easier for them, than just do something original.

I just re-read the previous sentence. This needs an example, or you’ll think i’m a crazed lunatic myself. (HAHA, DISREGARD THAT, I’M MAD AS A MUFFIN!) Well, for one, my little brother has asked me permission to date TWO of my ex-gf’s already. Next time, some bones WILL be broken. See where i’m going? Also, from my part, asking girls out – fine.  Asking girls out the very day you’ve been dumped to feel better – NOT fine. (Sorry… ^_^’) On the female part: Crazed males can be annoying, but we get better, if you just let our heads cool down. And don’t look so pretty when we’re desperate! I’m serious, there’s some sort of a weird law of nature that all girls become prettier, proportionally to the amount of time, you’ve spent without one. I’m sure that the world is much more beautiful for monks & prisoners! (Or…maybe not. Don’t pick up the soap, lads!)

8. People believe stereotypes.

Women aren't bad at math. I'm bad at making captions!

This one is really, REALLY important. Women are nor stupid, nor irrational. You know, they study the same things we do, and often put a lot more effort in it than us. As blatant as it seems, it still is a prevailing stereotype among men, and i’m expecting some flames in the comment section. And i know at least TWO people, who, when reading this, will think that i’m doing this just to get laid.  But no, men don’t think about sex all the time. And we’re not emotionless freaks. For one, when i drink beer with my pals, most of the time we blother about philosophy and warfare. Seriously. I could go on and on, but probably everything you know is wrong. Sure, there are jerks and whores, yet – who cares. Trust me, life has proven again and again, that ALL people are actually nice and caring, if you get past the natural privacy shell, and our needs are not so far apart. Now, would you like to date a girl who cares only about the size of your wallet and penis? (And that’s another stereotype – you do know that it’s really bad and hurts them, if it’s too big, and you’re not careful, do you?) Well, if you don’t want such a woman, then stop thinking that they’re all dumb as hell and stop staring at their breasts!

Just a thing to add: If you’re a female person, who’s reading this – unless you’re terribly obese, YOU ARE NOT TOO FAT! That’s the most irritating thing I’ve ever heard from a woman! Although, it is a reason to give out a compliment, it shouldn’t be used for anything else than gaining the said compliment. It’s not about kilos, it’s about how you present them 😉 Also, it’s a well known truth among men than only beautiful girls think they are too fat – the ugly and REALLY fat one’s don’t bother worrying. So, quite probably, you’re completely fine!

7.  People stop trying.

Answer: Men do.

I don’t even want to start about this one. I’ve heard whines by the millions that “zomg, she was soooo pretty when we started dating, but now she doesn’t take care of herself!” – Sure, we all want our partners to stay as beautiful as they were. Notice how i say: Partners, not women. Most likely, after those couple of dates where you tried your arse off to be the prettiest and the most awesome dude ever, you too stopped trying that hard. After all, you got the girl, now you can relax? Well, by doing so, you become someone who’s not worth looking beautiful for. We all want to be proud of our significant others. This has cost me a serious relationship, guys, so listen up: get yourself a suit. That favourite t-shirt? It has to go. Your funky pants? Ugly as shit. If you want your partner to be as beautiful as the first time you saw her/him, you have to be as beautiful as well.

Like a friend of mine, Izaak, writes on his messenger contacts: “You deserve everything that’s happening to you.” I couldn’t say it better than him, really.

6. People mistake care for control.

..not really, just one boozehound getting what's coming for him.

As much as I hate it, i’ll have to (albeit liberally) quote an ex of mine – but what she said encompassed the problem and made it clear for me at that time (Unfortunately, i got dumped then. Oh well, shit happens), and i hope it’ll explain some things for you as well.

“Once upon a time, there lived a knight. He had a nice shining armor and a sword. He slayed the dragon, got the princess and they lived happily ever after. Unfortunately, in their kingdom, there happened to be a time when another dragon arrived. So, the knight took his sword and went on to kill the said dragon. But the princess loved the knight, and she didn’t want the knight to get harmed. So, she recommended the knight to take a shield with him this time. And so he did. After a while, another dragon arrived. This time, bigger and scarier. Knight picked up the sword, the shield too, this time – but the princess, seeing as the dragon was just HUGE, thought that a shield will not be enough. So, she told the knight that this time, maybe he should use a magical axe instead of a sword. So, he put the sword down, took the magic axe, and proceeded to slay the beast. But when the next dragon arrived, even bigger this time, and the princess wanted to help out of the purest love, the Knight, instead, decided to just go to the local pub, get drunk and go and save another princess.”

You see, women actually don’t control you. They love you. And care about you. And yes, they do all these little things that piss us off – namely, how to do whatever we’ve been doing before without their advice – out of sheer love. You see, most men want to make their own decisions, and constant nagging makes us feel bad. So love us a bit differently – a coffee and sex works wonders! And men: understand that women have no need of controlling you, they know that we’re strong and awesome, so don’t worry about that. But yeah, this takes a while to set in. Also – very closely related to this is the next thing!

5. There are no psycho bitches.

Only assholes have such.

Yes, this one’s personally hard to admit. But, unless people are seriously weird, mostly it’s…ehh…your own fault. Oskars once asked me: “Why is it so, that when you split up with someone they become such assholes? Or when you’re long in a relationship?” Why, my friend, and i’m as sad and dumb as you on this one, because you were an idiot.

If you think about it, like i said, people aren’t that irrational. And most crazed women become such, because a) they love you and b ) you have fucked something up. Terribly. You see, trust is of extreme importance. If one of you does something terribly idiotical (and being drunk while doing that, just makes that worse) chances are, that you’ll be treated a bit differently, until the wounds heal. Of course, that is no reason why to burn good books and blame me for doing cocaine, but like i said – unless people are really weird. And i’m pretty sure that i’ve had my own fair share of relationship-induced madness as well.

This means, that there are people in the world, who think that i am a control freak, useless vagabond, a lousy bastard and…guess what, psycho bitch drama queen with issues. It’s fair, i guess – and just proves that you, again, shouldn’t blame other people for your own fuck-ups. Just…don’t do that again, ok?

4. People can know what other people want. Seriously.

And more, if you'll let me...


It’s not that hard, really.

Mel Gibson and that movie has done a great deal of damage. No, men are not that simple. No, women are not that hard. No, nobody expects others to read their thoughts. A bit of listening does just fine. (So says the man with no empathy, therefore it must be true! But really, if I can know what other people want, so can YOU! Flabbergasting! Stupendous! Marvelous!!!) There is a whole industry dedicated to know exactly what people want, and selling this information to others. Businesses run on it. Surely, you can do that too! And no, when she says that you should decide where to go, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a preference, she wants you, you indecisive fuck, to MAKE A GODDAMN DECISION for once. And stand by it. And when men say they don’t care about something, they do so, because in unimportant matters, they want to please their women. It’s that simple.

Like i mentioned earlier, here’s the answer to all of your relationship needs: Think about what you want from a relationship. Add more niceness. Add more trying hard. Add flowers. Give that to someone. Because, really, we all want someone to tell us we’re special, and we all want to make someone else feel special because of us. And that’s what we do. (Except flowers – i’ve never received flowers on a date, and, frankly, a beer would do much better! 😀 )

3. People are NOT chronic liars.

Only on weekdays. On saturdays & sundays i'm also a murderer.

Yeah, sure – all humans lie now and then. Yet – the paranoia has gone too far. Remember X-Files? Malder’s password – trustno1. We’re taught that by the day. Magazines tell us that men cheat, and women tend to spot a cheating bastard in every last one of us. Men don’t trust them just as much, suspecting that they’re not telling something/telling the complete opposite of what they really want. We’ve been ruined, spoiled and taught not to trust people.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is fucked up and wrong. If you’re building a relationship, then trust each other. Let go of the damn paranoia! It does more harm than good! “But Torq”, you can say. “how will being naive help me?” And i have to reply: who said anything about naivety? Trusting people and being naive are two completely different things. And there’s wisdom in separating them. Of what use will be your possible relationships, if you’re afraid to tell something to your significant other, and choose to lie instead? Even the small things count. Don’t lie. Ever. And always expect the other person is completely true about whatever they’re saying, even if what they’re saying is sounding like complete bullocks. There is no other way.

That being said, there’s one wise quote from that stoic russian, who’s book i read lately: “If your woman is cheating you, she’s not your woman anymore. And why would you want someone else’s woman?”

2. People don’t live on love alone. They also need money. To pay bills. And we all want it to be otherwise.

But money is pretty important still...

This one just HAS to be split in two parts, because, and i’m deeply cynical on this issue, money tends to ruin things. A lot.

From the woman’s perspective, it is understandable that a richer man is preferred over one who’s poor. And not because women enjoy all the shiny things – sure they all do, but that’s not the whole point – but because in our society, money equals power. Having money, means you have a job. Having a job means that you’re a responsible person, who can keep a job. Also, smart people, in general, tend to have more money than dumb people, because they have better jobs. This works in the level of instincts, from the days when we were all running around with sharp sticks and beating up mammoths. So, women seek alpha males. To inform you, bottom feeders, an alpha male is not one who can pwn everyone in computer games, an alpha male is one, who can take care of a tribe. And not by force and/or tyranny, because that came later – an alpha male does that, because he’s the most capable person around, and he understands how and why he should do it. The egoistical, self-centered pricks were always the bottom feeders. That is a fact.

Grind this in your head: No woman wants to date a loser. Not because of what you’ll buy to her, but because a loser won’t be able to help her, if all hell breaks loose.

On the other hand, women of these times want and can earn their own money, and they are in no way handicapped. And most men work hard to get the said money. And yes, most men take you to places and buy you stuff, because that makes you feel better, thus making us feel better. (Magic formula: take care of her, and she’ll do the same to you) BUT that doesn’t mean we don’t have to pay for our bills, that we don’t need to eat and that we don’t need money to escape our daily routines. Also, men are more inclined to do stuff for women, who don’t ask them to do stuff for them. 😉 But, like i said before – unless we’re living together, and pooling our resources, don’t expect us to provide for your daily needs. Young students, even with jobs, usually aren’t that rich to keep doing that for prolonged periods of time. Of course, we can help in a pinch, BUT…if you want us to treat you equally, learn to be responsible yourselves as well.

1. And the most important thing about relationships that people do wrong is: People forget that others are people too.

Bad boys get all the girls. But true ladies are reserved for gentlemen.


Serge Gainsbourg wasn’t a prettyboy shining wampire from a crappy movie. He. Was. A MAN! Just look at all the emotion, vibrating from this picture! They manage to look absolutely badass AND totally in love at the same time! Now, THAT’S what i call a perfect couple fotoshoot!

There is a reason why i am a steampunk/victorian fan, with a slight obsession with the 50’s. Because these days, with all the libertarians, marching around, with all the subcultures and whatnot…people have forgotten that there are some things more important than running around and making sure that everyone agrees to your political/religious/whatever views, and have become extremely agressive while doing so. And most women are trying really, really hard to be better men than men themselves, forgetting that it is women, proper ladies (who cares if they’re from the Spanish-looking southern type or St. Petersburg Russian-looking type) whom we want. And such women want a proper gentleman by their sides. Not that everyone has to return to tophats, albeit, i like my fedora oh-so-much, and i support the idea that real men wear hats, but it’s fully optional.

Just get the right attitude, and i’m speaking about both of the sexes here. Accept the flaws, be humans, be men, be gentlemen both in public, be polite in everyday lives and be sex gods in bed, be women, be ladies in public, be caring in private and like whores in bed! People are nothing but people. I’m pretty sure that everyone who’s been in a relationship for a time, longer than a year, will have to agree.

Except, of course, those few people who never agree to anything, because that makes them cool & awesome, and much better than me. And let them. I’m not even trying to compete with them for women. I’ve no need to. 😉

Ladies. *Bows, and takes off the hat* and Gentlemen. *Shakes hand.* ’till next time. I’m sure i haven’t told you anything new.

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El Orfanato

It’s a bad idea to watch Spanish horror movies in the middle of the night.  At least, i had some wine. But hey, this movie…was one of the really, really rare horror movies that actually startled me.

And afterwards, i sent an sms to all of my friends. I had to, because a ) wine b ) wow….movie made Torq think. Hehe.

Anyways, here’s a comic by Nim. About Dali. Is awesome. 🙂

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