A couple of years ago, there was an earthquake in one of Peru's cities. Chincha. It was a major national tragedy. It happened while I was abroad. I watched on tv the shrieks of desperation from families trying to get their loved ones rescued, or at least have their bodies recovered. It was awful, yes, but as any other person exposed to the mass media, I thought to myself "This happens all the time. Around the globe, this happens and not every case gets a spotlight.". I told that to myself and I believed it. I was able to forget for a bit.
By the way, if you're expecting the funny parts of this entry you'll have to wait up. I have some serious words to give first. Now, exactly 18 hours ago I decided to embark into a missionary trip to Chincha city. Why? Because in every process of growing up and trying to cope with yourself and your mistakes, one must learn to see the world from another's eyes. It is the most simple and yet most difficult thing to do. In any case, I packed up my Barney the Dinosaur hand puppet, a minibible ( for the puppet ) and hit the road alongside my good friends Viewtiful Shaun, Renzo, PP, Percy and others. The 3 hour trip in the blazing sun of the coast was not a pain in the ass due to the sheer amount of planning we were focused on.
Oh did I mention we planned the show like, just 2 hours before doing it?
Yup. I just did.
In any case, I was to do a Christian Barney hand puppet read the bible for 120 kids. The Good Samaritan, namely. Now you might be wondering "What's the big deal?". Well, I'll start by saying that kids are not stupid. They know they get more props by acting stupid ( Hell, I used to do that ) and thus, they outsmart adults many many times.
Poor/Street kids, however, are on another league entirely.
Their cynism level rivals that of a fully grown adult, their skill in the arts of making you feel sorry and do shit for them is remarkably deadly. They also have the nasty tendency to make stuff dissapear whenever they :
a)Don't like you
b)Don't think you're funny enough
c)Like your shit
d)All of the above
Again, let me repeat. I was to perform a handpuppet Barney the Christian Dinosaur show for 120 of those kids.
120.
Needless to say, bricks were shat when I arrived there and saw the marabunta of little lovable rascals. I never get myself to feel annoyed with kids no matter how undeniably anooying they are. Maybe because I consider myself an overgrown kid. In any case, I smiled widely and greeted them as if they were my age, giving High-Fives to any kid that would not be busy trying to ransack me. Surprisingly enough, they seemed to like that and my backpack was safe for the entirety of the trip. Note to self : Kids will not bother you if you can earn their trust and respect. Mainly by not talking down to them. In any case, they were mostly covered in dirt and I suspect some of that wasn't exactly 'dirt' dirt. But to be honest I didn't care. Children are always a weakspot to me. Again, my inner child runs free in my psyche.
Hence, I only noticed that my hand was dirty when I was already behind the curtain and trying to get the hand puppet on. I decided I could care less, and wiped it on my Hurley shirt. Because I'd rather ruin a half-decent shirt than start having prejudices against little kids and their physical condition.
Alas, the show had started. I went into full-on Barney mode, trying to copy, emulate and reproduce all of the purple dinosaur's mannerisms...with my hand. And well, my voice helped. I knew that kids wouldn't buy some half assed 'Dude behind the curtain reads the bible' shit, so I dropped in some 4th wall breaking jokes, tv references, some fart jokes ( kids dig that ) and added a bit of my over-the-top personality to the hand puppet in order to make it look more alive.
It worked.
My pals helped me along with the play by enacting the scenes Barney narrated, and the kids liked it. I enjoyed myself even though I was practically boiling behind that curtain ( Again, Chincha is VERY HOT these days ) but it was worth every sweat drop. As a finale, Barney decided to go 'downstairs to go back to his car and drive to his home'. A little bit of 'getting fat these days' joking and voila. Show was over. It lasted at least 20 minutes of improvising. Again, we succeeded in this and with one of the toughest crowds to please. Not to mention the ages ranged from 6 to 13. And both you and I KNOW what that combination can do.
After the show, I was asked to give some sort of peppy speech to the kids. I decided to go Anime Shounen Hero at them and talked about how no matter the suck-level of situations, one can always get past it with willpower, faith and patience. Now, telling cyinical, impulsive and street savvy kids about patience, faith and willpower is not an easy task, mind you. So at first they looked at me with a clear 'Get back to the hand puppet shit' face.
Until I started talking about superheroes.
Boy, it was amazing to see just how easy it was for me to relate to them and their chain of thoughts. I discovered right there that I had been arrogant in my intention. I had gone there to try and teach the kids about Christianity. But these poor, dirty and nearly illiterate kids were teaching me so much about the world that I had ignored and forgotten for so long. I remembered what it was like to make a friend without looking at what he was wearing. I had forgotten how nice it was to play in a forgotten dirtroad without caring about the filth in your clothes. I let my 18-year old self share with these kids a passion for fun and games that I confess, I often repressed. I remember how it is not okay to forget to be a kid. I remembered how I am supposed to do random and childish things once in a while.
I remembered what it was like to be blissfully happy, without a care in the world.
Just lying on the dirty pavement, exhausted from playing. Exhausted and happy.
I remembered what is was like to love someone without even knowing that person entirely.
And a bunch of street kids taught me that in the four hours of the event.
It was both a well-deserved slap to my pride and a wise lesson to learn. These kids lived basically in huts. Flies would often invade the place. They didn't know what the internet was. They didn't know they were supposed to one day, make a choice about a carrier or job. They weren't AWARE of the fact that day by day, adults fuck up the world that is supposed to be their inheritance. And they're happier than I'll ever be. Their smiles are more radiant and true than mine in my best hour. I can never hope to smile like that.
But I also learned that nevertheless, I have to smile.
Always smile.
I love you, kids. Thanks for teaching me how much of an immature prick I can be.
I'm definitely coming back there. When I do, I'll enjoy time with those kids again. Without caring if I ruin another shirt, or if they just put up with me to get free gifts. I seriously don't care. I'm sure they don't. Whenever I am called to go there, I will. Because I already owe them a lot.
Because they brought my spirits up. And reminded me that some things are worth waiting for.
So this entry is dedicated to the kids in Chincha, and every kid that is able to see a world of fantasy and wonder amidst this hellhole we call 'tragedy'.
We'll need that kind of people someday. I'm sure we will.
Night peeps.
sábado, 26 de marzo de 2011
martes, 22 de marzo de 2011
Rhapsody of the Leg
Muay Thai. A fighting technique inherited from Thailand, brought to the western world long ago by inmigrants. And also the cause of my morning pains for the last month. While Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Karate, Kung Fu and other oriental disciplines put an emphasis to aesthetics and such, Muay Thai cannalizes it into the ability to turn your oponent ( or yourself ) into a bloody pulp. It's also good for showing your guns to the ladies. Ever since Q-Day, I've been looking for a way to vent my angst into actual positive energy and motivation. I talked to my brother ( who is the ultimate gymfag ) and he told me about this little fighting style in the poetic yet direct way of :
"It's FUCKING bloody."
Ah brother, how I miss you. Anyways, first day there, my angst was gone. It was replaced by several concussions, a kick to the jab and a broken leg. Fortunately, my habit of NEVER wearing tight pants has allowed me to conceal the prothesis.
I mean guys, there are better ways of showing your -laughable- package. Consider speedos.
In any case, it took me an entire week of waking up in complete exhaustion to realize I haven't felt such a rush in a long long time. The moment when your hearbeat increases so much you can hear blood pumping in your ears, trying to decide whether to drink water OR breath -because the urgence your body feels is painstaking-, THAT is the moment I live for. Sharing this with my friends has left such wonderful comments as :
Reld : O_o you crazy
Dad : THAT'S MY BOY! You know, when I was your age I( insert ancient history text here )
Mom : WHAT IS WRONG WITH THOSE PEOPLE! MY POOR BOY, LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO YOU!
Wachín : Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude...
Renzo : The fuck? Are you trying to fight your way to her or what? Because ninja lessons don't require you to die on the 5th session and are much cheaper.
Diego : CHALLENGE. ACCEPTED ( punched me in the gut )
Shaun : Way to go man! See ya on the weekend! ( no comment on the broken leg, goes back to Amanda )
PP : ESEEEEEEEEEEE...
Oh guys, what would I do without you.
Maybe one of the things that gets me most excited these days is my newfound innate ability with Corel Draw. I mean, it is by no means fun to use but BOY do I get a thrill while creating images. When I get my laptop ( WEBCAM ENABLED WEE )first thing I'm doing is draw a ***GOOGLE CORPORATION AND THE FCC HAS CENSORED THIS CONTENT***
Aw hell yeah.
Meanwhile on college, I got dryhumped by one of my friends. It has derived into a homoerotic battle of epic proportions in which if one of us leaves an opening to his behind, dryhump ensues.
Yes, healthy and educative fun for all the family. Oh the joy.
My black best friend, Api, has been appearing on my head lately. Mainly due to the fact I was used to see him every single day at school and now, a year after, I feel sort of nostalgic. Sure, I saw Reld too but then again, we have a love/hate friendship. Now that I think about it, we met by stabbing each other with pens on breaktime.
Ahhh friendship. What a wonderful thing.
DAMN this apple is juicy.
"It's FUCKING bloody."
Ah brother, how I miss you. Anyways, first day there, my angst was gone. It was replaced by several concussions, a kick to the jab and a broken leg. Fortunately, my habit of NEVER wearing tight pants has allowed me to conceal the prothesis.
I mean guys, there are better ways of showing your -laughable- package. Consider speedos.
In any case, it took me an entire week of waking up in complete exhaustion to realize I haven't felt such a rush in a long long time. The moment when your hearbeat increases so much you can hear blood pumping in your ears, trying to decide whether to drink water OR breath -because the urgence your body feels is painstaking-, THAT is the moment I live for. Sharing this with my friends has left such wonderful comments as :
Reld : O_o you crazy
Dad : THAT'S MY BOY! You know, when I was your age I( insert ancient history text here )
Mom : WHAT IS WRONG WITH THOSE PEOPLE! MY POOR BOY, LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO YOU!
Wachín : Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude...
Renzo : The fuck? Are you trying to fight your way to her or what? Because ninja lessons don't require you to die on the 5th session and are much cheaper.
Diego : CHALLENGE. ACCEPTED ( punched me in the gut )
Shaun : Way to go man! See ya on the weekend! ( no comment on the broken leg, goes back to Amanda )
PP : ESEEEEEEEEEEE...
Oh guys, what would I do without you.
Maybe one of the things that gets me most excited these days is my newfound innate ability with Corel Draw. I mean, it is by no means fun to use but BOY do I get a thrill while creating images. When I get my laptop ( WEBCAM ENABLED WEE )first thing I'm doing is draw a ***GOOGLE CORPORATION AND THE FCC HAS CENSORED THIS CONTENT***
Aw hell yeah.
Meanwhile on college, I got dryhumped by one of my friends. It has derived into a homoerotic battle of epic proportions in which if one of us leaves an opening to his behind, dryhump ensues.
Yes, healthy and educative fun for all the family. Oh the joy.
My black best friend, Api, has been appearing on my head lately. Mainly due to the fact I was used to see him every single day at school and now, a year after, I feel sort of nostalgic. Sure, I saw Reld too but then again, we have a love/hate friendship. Now that I think about it, we met by stabbing each other with pens on breaktime.
Ahhh friendship. What a wonderful thing.
DAMN this apple is juicy.
lunes, 7 de marzo de 2011
Never gonna give you up
And I say 'never gonna let you down'. It's me. Again. Writing shit that nobody wants to read but free time and such has allowed the internet to create such wonder. The internet can create wonders. It connects so many people, creates bonds from afar. Like WoW nerds who go raiding together and then try to figure out what a pair of real boobs look like. Truly charming. But this one blog entry has an owner. An owner who isn't as avaiable as always, but I hope to God that this will somehow be found. Like a note in a bottle.
Before you go ahead and block this off too, take a minute to read a bit of internet sincerity guys, will you?
Age. It defines so many things and yet so little. I am a person full of regrets and embarrassments, and yet I find myself to be at least a decent person. I think I've made mistakes. And I'm sorry for them. Some of them I'm just sorry, some of them I wish with all my might I had never even got to commit them. Sometimes, the bonds and limits vanish like there is nothing that separates two minds and shit happens. Yes. I know I've made a horrible mistake. You have every right to be upset. I had no right to do what I did, and it was probably something horrendous to do without context. But I meant every single nice word. Which is hard to do when you can't see my face. Even though you'll probably hate me. Hate me then. I can accept that. But blame me. Only on me. I value that person so much, it's insane to think such a thing would grow on the internet. I'm not a loon. I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly god damn sane college student with perfectly above the average grades and I knew what I was getting into.
If this is the new way things are, so be it. But know that it will change nothing at all. Except maybe severing a bond that would've grown into something you guys would've liked. Who knows. I'm just ranting again.
The point is, it will not go away. I'm patient, I don't hold grudges. If anyone is to blame it is me and I apologise. Don't punish a person who didn't commit anything evil or despicable. I still think you guys are great people and if you think I can fake all of this stuff just to stalk someone, you're giving me way too much credit and - with due respect - you don't know me. At all. Which is a shame, since I looked forward to meet you.
I'll still be here, if anything comes up. If things can be talked through, I'll be glad to do it. I'm sorry for the trouble. So deeply sorry. I'm not gonna lie, it hurts. It hurst me. I'm a human being and I'm hurt by this. But if anything, I just wish my pain is greater than that person's. If this wasn't meant to be, I hope she didn't even feel the same way I felt because that way she's gonna get over it faster. Just that.I still hope this doesn't end. But this is the best I can do right now. That, and doing my best to not break down. Maybe you guys don't get it, but I wish the best for her. A person who she knew on the internet. And if you guys think that not talking to me ever again is the best for her, then I'm destroyed. But there's nothing on my power that I can do right now. And you will probably block this site too. If you already haven't.
This isn't just a message for her, it's for you too. Her family. The people she has told me several times she loves. The fun, wise-cracking dad, the loving, caring mother, the chill, relaxed brother. Wonderful people I'll never forget because for better or worse, this will be engraved in my memory not as a grudge or sadness, but as a reminder. A reminded that once upon a time, two people found each other a were happy. For a small time. From afar. Truly and honestly.
It's what loneliness can do.
Best wishes.
Avocado.
P.S : That swordfight is still on, Mr.Superkamikazecacatuar. I'm a man of my word. I keep my promises. I always do. To you, or your daughter.
Before you go ahead and block this off too, take a minute to read a bit of internet sincerity guys, will you?
Age. It defines so many things and yet so little. I am a person full of regrets and embarrassments, and yet I find myself to be at least a decent person. I think I've made mistakes. And I'm sorry for them. Some of them I'm just sorry, some of them I wish with all my might I had never even got to commit them. Sometimes, the bonds and limits vanish like there is nothing that separates two minds and shit happens. Yes. I know I've made a horrible mistake. You have every right to be upset. I had no right to do what I did, and it was probably something horrendous to do without context. But I meant every single nice word. Which is hard to do when you can't see my face. Even though you'll probably hate me. Hate me then. I can accept that. But blame me. Only on me. I value that person so much, it's insane to think such a thing would grow on the internet. I'm not a loon. I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly god damn sane college student with perfectly above the average grades and I knew what I was getting into.
If this is the new way things are, so be it. But know that it will change nothing at all. Except maybe severing a bond that would've grown into something you guys would've liked. Who knows. I'm just ranting again.
The point is, it will not go away. I'm patient, I don't hold grudges. If anyone is to blame it is me and I apologise. Don't punish a person who didn't commit anything evil or despicable. I still think you guys are great people and if you think I can fake all of this stuff just to stalk someone, you're giving me way too much credit and - with due respect - you don't know me. At all. Which is a shame, since I looked forward to meet you.
I'll still be here, if anything comes up. If things can be talked through, I'll be glad to do it. I'm sorry for the trouble. So deeply sorry. I'm not gonna lie, it hurts. It hurst me. I'm a human being and I'm hurt by this. But if anything, I just wish my pain is greater than that person's. If this wasn't meant to be, I hope she didn't even feel the same way I felt because that way she's gonna get over it faster. Just that.I still hope this doesn't end. But this is the best I can do right now. That, and doing my best to not break down. Maybe you guys don't get it, but I wish the best for her. A person who she knew on the internet. And if you guys think that not talking to me ever again is the best for her, then I'm destroyed. But there's nothing on my power that I can do right now. And you will probably block this site too. If you already haven't.
This isn't just a message for her, it's for you too. Her family. The people she has told me several times she loves. The fun, wise-cracking dad, the loving, caring mother, the chill, relaxed brother. Wonderful people I'll never forget because for better or worse, this will be engraved in my memory not as a grudge or sadness, but as a reminder. A reminded that once upon a time, two people found each other a were happy. For a small time. From afar. Truly and honestly.
It's what loneliness can do.
Best wishes.
Avocado.
P.S : That swordfight is still on, Mr.Superkamikazecacatuar. I'm a man of my word. I keep my promises. I always do. To you, or your daughter.
lunes, 14 de febrero de 2011
Single Awareness Day : Quit bitching. This is why nobody loves you.
And is also why the last time you got laid was that night with that girl with a deep voice who kept asking you to call her Larry and did things to you in the back of the Gas Station that you will never tell anyone about. And then probably score some coke. Hell if I know, I don't do drugs.
My body naturally reproduces the same effects.
In any case, today was a very special day. Which means that I was alive for its entirety again, such a miracle life is. Oh and Valentine's Day. I still don't get the whole 'buy shit, give to girl, act gay, ????, profit' jingle that is Valentine's Day. Maybe due to the fact that I've never spent one in the company of a love o-WHY DID YOU GO AWAY NADINE, WHY WHY WHY DID YOU LEAVE AND GOT PREGNANT WITH THAT JACKASS WHO LEFT YOU TO DIE ALONE IN GUATEMALA, WE COULD'VE BUILT A LIFE TOGHET-***Hi, this is JD's repressed inner adult. Appearently, he's having some sort of emotional breakdown yet again due to the unholy amount of repressed issues, most of them having to do with lack of restrain and his lost dog who he never found again. While the doctors take care, feel free to watch this funny video about Narwhals -> http://narwhals.se/ We'll be back shortly.***
And that's how I became the prince of Bel Air. Also, Hitler. I totally killed him. SO, while I try to figure out why am I in this straitjacket and inside a mental asylum, I'll keep ranting about Valentine's Day.
( For those of you smartypants who just went 'DURRR YOU CAN'T TYPE IF YOU'RE IN A STRAITJACKET' I have only one thing to say : A wizard did it. Wanna know what else he does? Your mom. )
An inspiring story is that one of this guy in the Bible, who in order to get to bang his hot girlfriend who happened to be the daughter of the king of whatever ( It's been YEARS since I've read the bible ok? ) had to kill 50 men and as proof of his deed, he had to bring their foreskins as proof. So basically, cut their dongs off. he guy then came back after a week with 100 foreskins of the kingdom's enemies to present to the king. Obviously, he got to tap the king's daughter that same night. So remember ladies, next time you want to test your man, just ask him "How many dicks would you cut for me?". If he acts surprised, he's not worth your time. If he responds 'How many do you want?' he's probably gay and into sodomy. If he suddenly grabs the nearest sharp object and runs after the first male he sees, you've got a romance for a lifetime. Also, if you believe that story about a guy cutting dongs off isn't in the bible, look it up. After all it's the book that starts with a talking snake getting humans expelled from the VIP zone, then God deciding to drown everyone, then getting his people to be blessed, and suddenly rescuing them from Nazis/Egyptians out of nowhere by using hacks and making fire rain, sea split, then having a son with an underage girl, making that son the ultimate real life hacker who then turns into a zombie and will return one day.
Totally legit. Looks trustworthy to me.
Then on the other hand, we have atheism. The belief that in the beggining there was nothing, and that nothing happened to nothing and then suddenly something exploded for no reason, creating everything and thus rearranging it randomly into self replicating cells which then turned into dinosaurs. Makes perfect sense.
In any case remember to treat religious beliefs like your penis : Don't show it off in public, don't brag about it, and don't shove it down your children's throat.
I learned that in order to start being likeable, and actually starting to be accessible to the opposite sex, you must start by first getting to like the slobby, pitiful mashup of wasted sperm that is yourself. By accomplishing that not only do you avoid toxic relationships ( I'm looking at you, Louis ) but you're also less likely to become a putrid waste of space that should be shot down out of mercy. Namely, a Twilight fan or a Justin Bieber enthusiast. Also, girls, if you really don't want guys staring at your ass because you're using short skin-tight shorts then maybe you should stop confusing 'Sexy' with 'Prostitute'. Sure, there are places to wear that top and that mini miniskirt with high heels but college is not one of them. To quote a dialog I had last Friday :
-"The fact that I dress like a slut doesn't mean I'm a slut!"
-"Yeah well, the fact that I act like a rapist doesn't mean I'm a rapist. Nice tits by the way."
Also, dear Alexis, if you're reading this let me explain to you why women can be sluts if they sleep with many men and why men can't be whores no matter how many women they fuck : If a key opens many locks, it's a master key. If a lock is opened by many keys, it's a shitty lock. Ergo, girls, at least play hard to get. You wouldn't believe how fast rumours spread about your flexibility. And don't even get me started on those 'private photos' your boyfriend took, because I just downloaded them from the internet 1 hour after you went home.
So, I have to go now as my computer warns me there's a robbery on the national bank, and thus I must dress up in my exosuit and fight crime as the scourge of criminals. Or just go back to reading funny shit at Cracked.com, I dunno. In any case, my final remarks upon the Valentine's Day issue is :
Copulate, not populate. Have fun.
My body naturally reproduces the same effects.
In any case, today was a very special day. Which means that I was alive for its entirety again, such a miracle life is. Oh and Valentine's Day. I still don't get the whole 'buy shit, give to girl, act gay, ????, profit' jingle that is Valentine's Day. Maybe due to the fact that I've never spent one in the company of a love o-WHY DID YOU GO AWAY NADINE, WHY WHY WHY DID YOU LEAVE AND GOT PREGNANT WITH THAT JACKASS WHO LEFT YOU TO DIE ALONE IN GUATEMALA, WE COULD'VE BUILT A LIFE TOGHET-***Hi, this is JD's repressed inner adult. Appearently, he's having some sort of emotional breakdown yet again due to the unholy amount of repressed issues, most of them having to do with lack of restrain and his lost dog who he never found again. While the doctors take care, feel free to watch this funny video about Narwhals -> http://narwhals.se/ We'll be back shortly.***
And that's how I became the prince of Bel Air. Also, Hitler. I totally killed him. SO, while I try to figure out why am I in this straitjacket and inside a mental asylum, I'll keep ranting about Valentine's Day.
( For those of you smartypants who just went 'DURRR YOU CAN'T TYPE IF YOU'RE IN A STRAITJACKET' I have only one thing to say : A wizard did it. Wanna know what else he does? Your mom. )
An inspiring story is that one of this guy in the Bible, who in order to get to bang his hot girlfriend who happened to be the daughter of the king of whatever ( It's been YEARS since I've read the bible ok? ) had to kill 50 men and as proof of his deed, he had to bring their foreskins as proof. So basically, cut their dongs off. he guy then came back after a week with 100 foreskins of the kingdom's enemies to present to the king. Obviously, he got to tap the king's daughter that same night. So remember ladies, next time you want to test your man, just ask him "How many dicks would you cut for me?". If he acts surprised, he's not worth your time. If he responds 'How many do you want?' he's probably gay and into sodomy. If he suddenly grabs the nearest sharp object and runs after the first male he sees, you've got a romance for a lifetime. Also, if you believe that story about a guy cutting dongs off isn't in the bible, look it up. After all it's the book that starts with a talking snake getting humans expelled from the VIP zone, then God deciding to drown everyone, then getting his people to be blessed, and suddenly rescuing them from Nazis/Egyptians out of nowhere by using hacks and making fire rain, sea split, then having a son with an underage girl, making that son the ultimate real life hacker who then turns into a zombie and will return one day.
Totally legit. Looks trustworthy to me.
Then on the other hand, we have atheism. The belief that in the beggining there was nothing, and that nothing happened to nothing and then suddenly something exploded for no reason, creating everything and thus rearranging it randomly into self replicating cells which then turned into dinosaurs. Makes perfect sense.
In any case remember to treat religious beliefs like your penis : Don't show it off in public, don't brag about it, and don't shove it down your children's throat.
I learned that in order to start being likeable, and actually starting to be accessible to the opposite sex, you must start by first getting to like the slobby, pitiful mashup of wasted sperm that is yourself. By accomplishing that not only do you avoid toxic relationships ( I'm looking at you, Louis ) but you're also less likely to become a putrid waste of space that should be shot down out of mercy. Namely, a Twilight fan or a Justin Bieber enthusiast. Also, girls, if you really don't want guys staring at your ass because you're using short skin-tight shorts then maybe you should stop confusing 'Sexy' with 'Prostitute'. Sure, there are places to wear that top and that mini miniskirt with high heels but college is not one of them. To quote a dialog I had last Friday :
-"The fact that I dress like a slut doesn't mean I'm a slut!"
-"Yeah well, the fact that I act like a rapist doesn't mean I'm a rapist. Nice tits by the way."
Also, dear Alexis, if you're reading this let me explain to you why women can be sluts if they sleep with many men and why men can't be whores no matter how many women they fuck : If a key opens many locks, it's a master key. If a lock is opened by many keys, it's a shitty lock. Ergo, girls, at least play hard to get. You wouldn't believe how fast rumours spread about your flexibility. And don't even get me started on those 'private photos' your boyfriend took, because I just downloaded them from the internet 1 hour after you went home.
So, I have to go now as my computer warns me there's a robbery on the national bank, and thus I must dress up in my exosuit and fight crime as the scourge of criminals. Or just go back to reading funny shit at Cracked.com, I dunno. In any case, my final remarks upon the Valentine's Day issue is :
Copulate, not populate. Have fun.
martes, 8 de febrero de 2011
Good News everyone! I invented a device that makes you read this in my voice!
Yup, I'll keep writing nonsensical blabber that nobody wants to read. It's been a lot of time since I last visited this site. I decided to came back after the following exchange :
Vader : Dude, are you emo?
Me : Wtflol
Vader : Your last entry is like...waaaaaaay emo and pretentious. Are you really that much of an asshole? Cuz it looks like you hate every human on the planet.
I came here, read my last entry and instantly remembered the night after the prom, where I got myself drunk with a single glass of beer and listened waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too many heavy metal.
See kiddies? Internet+Drunk = OMGDRAMAQUEENBAWWWWWW
So yeah, I'm not gonna erase the previous entry because really. it's just funny to see how much of a depressed twat I can be. Plus, shits and giggles. The internet is not serious business. Honestly, after Piero linked me to that '2 girls 1 cup video' I lost faith in humanity's capability of not doing weird shit.
Thank you Japan, bringing the world unbelievable wierd porn since 1946. And tentancles. Why the FUCK did it have to be tentacles?
Anyway, lost track of the issue at hand. I was reading through all of my old entries and had a couple of thoughts about how to revamp and update this shitfest I call 'blog'. One of my ideas was to make a war-like format, but I decided not to do it due to literary causes and lack of resources. Namely, because there's no Nazis for me to kill while riding atop a motorcycle with an open leather jacket and an oiled chest, rock music on the background as the hot busty blonde looks at the sheer amount of awesome in admiration. So yeah, no war journal. Then was the idea of making this into a Slenderman ARG journal but then I realized that :
1) I'd need special effects.
2) This is Peru. Nobody knows who the fuck is Slenderman.
3) The few people who DO know who is Slenderman are probably Piero and other 4chan oldfags.
5)4chan is NOT a good place to know if you plan on having a life.
4) The sum of the last 3 reasons will be an obvious impediment to getting laid if a chick from college finds this.
Also, I do NOT plan to turn this into a diary journal. So if you want to read about my daily life, try actually using msn. Yes, it still exists. Yes, it is better than Facebook. Which brings me to my next point :
IF you plan to have any amount of privacy in your life, don't use Facebook.
Sure, people will brand you as an outtaded nolife but in the end I consider having my private life kept to myself and my close bros more important than gaining the approval of people who will probably etiquette you on that embarrassing picture of you without a shirt on, taking a dump on a pool while completely drunk, thus causing your mom, dad, brothers, sisters, friends and stalkers to know that you really can't manage your alcohol because you so thoughtless added them without thinking about the gaping hole of privacy you just unleashed. Yes, it has happened. No, it wasn't me in the picture.
I was the one who took the picture. Yes, I'm a heartless bastard when I want to. ( insert lightning and bats here ). And no, untagging yourself isn't going to stop it from becoming a meme. And there's ALWAYS tha nasty wasty friend who posts embarrassing shit you don't want anyone to see.
I'm looking at you, Fernando.
SO, to finish this rant, I'll just say that without much more prelude, this blog if officially revived. I can smell the hatemail pouring to my inbox. Give me your best shot.
( If you are wondering why am I writing this in english, then I'll hve you know that all my entries will be the same. Yes, I'm showing off my english skills. Sue me. )
The Game.
Vader : Dude, are you emo?
Me : Wtflol
Vader : Your last entry is like...waaaaaaay emo and pretentious. Are you really that much of an asshole? Cuz it looks like you hate every human on the planet.
I came here, read my last entry and instantly remembered the night after the prom, where I got myself drunk with a single glass of beer and listened waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too many heavy metal.
See kiddies? Internet+Drunk = OMGDRAMAQUEENBAWWWWWW
So yeah, I'm not gonna erase the previous entry because really. it's just funny to see how much of a depressed twat I can be. Plus, shits and giggles. The internet is not serious business. Honestly, after Piero linked me to that '2 girls 1 cup video' I lost faith in humanity's capability of not doing weird shit.
Thank you Japan, bringing the world unbelievable wierd porn since 1946. And tentancles. Why the FUCK did it have to be tentacles?
Anyway, lost track of the issue at hand. I was reading through all of my old entries and had a couple of thoughts about how to revamp and update this shitfest I call 'blog'. One of my ideas was to make a war-like format, but I decided not to do it due to literary causes and lack of resources. Namely, because there's no Nazis for me to kill while riding atop a motorcycle with an open leather jacket and an oiled chest, rock music on the background as the hot busty blonde looks at the sheer amount of awesome in admiration. So yeah, no war journal. Then was the idea of making this into a Slenderman ARG journal but then I realized that :
1) I'd need special effects.
2) This is Peru. Nobody knows who the fuck is Slenderman.
3) The few people who DO know who is Slenderman are probably Piero and other 4chan oldfags.
5)4chan is NOT a good place to know if you plan on having a life.
4) The sum of the last 3 reasons will be an obvious impediment to getting laid if a chick from college finds this.
Also, I do NOT plan to turn this into a diary journal. So if you want to read about my daily life, try actually using msn. Yes, it still exists. Yes, it is better than Facebook. Which brings me to my next point :
IF you plan to have any amount of privacy in your life, don't use Facebook.
Sure, people will brand you as an outtaded nolife but in the end I consider having my private life kept to myself and my close bros more important than gaining the approval of people who will probably etiquette you on that embarrassing picture of you without a shirt on, taking a dump on a pool while completely drunk, thus causing your mom, dad, brothers, sisters, friends and stalkers to know that you really can't manage your alcohol because you so thoughtless added them without thinking about the gaping hole of privacy you just unleashed. Yes, it has happened. No, it wasn't me in the picture.
I was the one who took the picture. Yes, I'm a heartless bastard when I want to. ( insert lightning and bats here ). And no, untagging yourself isn't going to stop it from becoming a meme. And there's ALWAYS tha nasty wasty friend who posts embarrassing shit you don't want anyone to see.
I'm looking at you, Fernando.
SO, to finish this rant, I'll just say that without much more prelude, this blog if officially revived. I can smell the hatemail pouring to my inbox. Give me your best shot.
( If you are wondering why am I writing this in english, then I'll hve you know that all my entries will be the same. Yes, I'm showing off my english skills. Sue me. )
The Game.
lunes, 7 de diciembre de 2009
Esto es una fiesta...¿de locos?
Son las 1:24 de la mañana cuando empiezo a escribir. Acabo de regresar de la fiesta de promoción. O mejore dicho la fiesta de un grupo de 7 y los otros 19 que tienen qu ir para no pasar roche. Somos 27 en mi salón. Ahora, 7+19 = 26 : ¿cual es el 27?
Yo
Voy porque ya había tomado una decisión, una conclusión, y fui para confirmarla. Fui con Claudia, una amiga que no le gusta bailar, nos la pasamos conversando. Bueno, en realidad ella llamaba a su enamorado y yo me dedicaba a observar a los chicos intentando comportarse como hombres ( cosa que asocian con tomar y perrear ) y a las chicas intentando bailar o parecer bonitas ( que para ellas es ponerse vestidos pequeños cuyo único objetivo real es hacer de la persona que lo use un objeto de deseo, no lucir el vestido ).
Me pregunto si de veras están allí para cumplir el objetivo de una fiesta de promoción: Disfrutar la última fiesta entre compañeros de escuela, como tales.
La obvia respuesta es no, ya nadie lo hace. Todos van con un objetivo personal. Para unas es una oportunidad para tomar, una fiesta más que añadir en su lista. Para unos es la última oportunidad de decirle algo importante a alguien importante. Para otros es la oportunidad de tirarse de una vez a "la" chica, pues se va a emborrachar sí o sí. Incluso muestran con orgullo los condones que han comprado para el gran día.
Veo lo que veo en todas las fiestas, lo que pasa alrededor del mundo al mismo tiempo con diferentes personas : sobrecarga de hormonas, movimiento, musica, una satisfaccion de momento.
Y yo me quedo sentado, conversando, mirando a aquellos arlequines bailando en su propio juego de marionetas, como si bailaran para mi entretenimiento. Y lo que mas me divierte es que puedo ver claramente lo que estan pensando, su gloria, sus chicas, los aplausos, el que da mas, la que da mas, las que llegan en limusina o con los vestidos mas atrevidos, todos ellos buscando satisfacerse, esos son los que mas me divierten. Son sus propios payasos porque ni ellos mismos creen en lo que hacen, les guste o no, saben que tarde o temprano la belleza se va, que gastaron dinero en un lujo de 10 minutos.
No bailé en toda la fiesta de promocion, y no me he perdido de nada que no pudiera experimentar si me metiera en cualquier otra fiesta de muchachos de 16 años. Ellos no tienen nada que ofrecerme y yo no les ofreceria nada.
Confirmé mi teoría : No soy como ellos, nunca quise y nunca seré como ellos. No pertenezco a su pequeño mundo que los gobierna.
Yo gobierno mi unvierso.
Claudia se fue a las 12, le di un collar de regalo, no solo porque me cae bien, no solo por acompañarme , sino porque algun dia recordara lo que le dije en aquella fiesta y se dara cuenta de que lo que hice o no hice, me fue util. Yo manipulo, yo utilizo, y no me remuerde la conciencia.
Son la 1:48 cuando escribo esto. A las 8 tengo un examen internacional en el Británico, un examen que me abrirá las puertas a ese mundo que yo domino y que espera ser dominado. Y se preguntarán
¿Si eres tan racional como dices, que haces despierto y no durmiendo o estudiando?
Caballeros. ¿Donde esta lo divertido de la conquista si no en el goce del proceso?
Yo
Voy porque ya había tomado una decisión, una conclusión, y fui para confirmarla. Fui con Claudia, una amiga que no le gusta bailar, nos la pasamos conversando. Bueno, en realidad ella llamaba a su enamorado y yo me dedicaba a observar a los chicos intentando comportarse como hombres ( cosa que asocian con tomar y perrear ) y a las chicas intentando bailar o parecer bonitas ( que para ellas es ponerse vestidos pequeños cuyo único objetivo real es hacer de la persona que lo use un objeto de deseo, no lucir el vestido ).
Me pregunto si de veras están allí para cumplir el objetivo de una fiesta de promoción: Disfrutar la última fiesta entre compañeros de escuela, como tales.
La obvia respuesta es no, ya nadie lo hace. Todos van con un objetivo personal. Para unas es una oportunidad para tomar, una fiesta más que añadir en su lista. Para unos es la última oportunidad de decirle algo importante a alguien importante. Para otros es la oportunidad de tirarse de una vez a "la" chica, pues se va a emborrachar sí o sí. Incluso muestran con orgullo los condones que han comprado para el gran día.
Veo lo que veo en todas las fiestas, lo que pasa alrededor del mundo al mismo tiempo con diferentes personas : sobrecarga de hormonas, movimiento, musica, una satisfaccion de momento.
Y yo me quedo sentado, conversando, mirando a aquellos arlequines bailando en su propio juego de marionetas, como si bailaran para mi entretenimiento. Y lo que mas me divierte es que puedo ver claramente lo que estan pensando, su gloria, sus chicas, los aplausos, el que da mas, la que da mas, las que llegan en limusina o con los vestidos mas atrevidos, todos ellos buscando satisfacerse, esos son los que mas me divierten. Son sus propios payasos porque ni ellos mismos creen en lo que hacen, les guste o no, saben que tarde o temprano la belleza se va, que gastaron dinero en un lujo de 10 minutos.
No bailé en toda la fiesta de promocion, y no me he perdido de nada que no pudiera experimentar si me metiera en cualquier otra fiesta de muchachos de 16 años. Ellos no tienen nada que ofrecerme y yo no les ofreceria nada.
Confirmé mi teoría : No soy como ellos, nunca quise y nunca seré como ellos. No pertenezco a su pequeño mundo que los gobierna.
Yo gobierno mi unvierso.
Claudia se fue a las 12, le di un collar de regalo, no solo porque me cae bien, no solo por acompañarme , sino porque algun dia recordara lo que le dije en aquella fiesta y se dara cuenta de que lo que hice o no hice, me fue util. Yo manipulo, yo utilizo, y no me remuerde la conciencia.
Son la 1:48 cuando escribo esto. A las 8 tengo un examen internacional en el Británico, un examen que me abrirá las puertas a ese mundo que yo domino y que espera ser dominado. Y se preguntarán
¿Si eres tan racional como dices, que haces despierto y no durmiendo o estudiando?
Caballeros. ¿Donde esta lo divertido de la conquista si no en el goce del proceso?
viernes, 23 de octubre de 2009
(inserte título pretencioso aquí)
Listen, if a book is going to give me night terrors right out of a Freud textbook involving me running through a Stockholm red-light district being chased by ravenous toothed genitalia all wanting me to pay them for the privilege of devouring me alive, you have to fucking tell me.
No tengo mucho que escribir hoy
No he pensado mucho hoy
Excepto en lo que dejo atrás
Mi alma
Mi cuerpo
Ella
Y sin embargo tan bello, todo cae en su lugar. El tablero y las fichas. El rey no puede esperar que sus peones peleen sin estar el a la cabeza. Pero el juego está mal, está mal.
Algo falla
Por qué para empezar es esto un juego? La tercera persona e la que experimento todo me irrita. Donde ellos ven risa, yo leo gestos. Lo que a ellos les es indispensable a mi me estorba.
Sociópata?
Absolutamente. Pero es en realidad un defecto ver el "sistema"? El mecanismo intrincado de la razón humana es descifrable, y sin embargo tan bello, tan...
manipulable
Y luego me pregunto por que no soy sociable. Pero claro, a la gente no le gusta ser vista desde un microscopio
**************
????: I believe in something greater than myself. A better world. A world without sin.
??: So me and mine gotta lay down and die... so you can live in your better world?
????: I'm not going to live there. There's no place for me there... any more than there is for you... I'm a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done.
**************
Yo si creo que el fin justifica los medios. Intentar hacer que los medios no conlleven efectos colaterales es bondadoso, sin embargo no se debe acostumbrar uno a recibir ese tipo de bondad siempre.
El mundo está podrido. El mal es el bien, pero podrido. Y sin embargo todos somos buenas personas, deseamos serlo.
Rossieu tenía razón.
O no?
********
"I wanted to know about the messiah- the one who appears out of nowhere and saves the world. Except sometimes he doesn't. All those times in history when there was no sign of him. I wanted to know why not. But I don't need to ask anymore. I know the answer now. Sometimes, God must look at this world and turn away in shame."
**************
No tengo mucho que escribir hoy
No he pensado mucho hoy
Excepto en lo que dejo atrás
Mi alma
Mi cuerpo
Ella
Y sin embargo tan bello, todo cae en su lugar. El tablero y las fichas. El rey no puede esperar que sus peones peleen sin estar el a la cabeza. Pero el juego está mal, está mal.
Algo falla
Por qué para empezar es esto un juego? La tercera persona e la que experimento todo me irrita. Donde ellos ven risa, yo leo gestos. Lo que a ellos les es indispensable a mi me estorba.
Sociópata?
Absolutamente. Pero es en realidad un defecto ver el "sistema"? El mecanismo intrincado de la razón humana es descifrable, y sin embargo tan bello, tan...
manipulable
Y luego me pregunto por que no soy sociable. Pero claro, a la gente no le gusta ser vista desde un microscopio
**************
????: I believe in something greater than myself. A better world. A world without sin.
??: So me and mine gotta lay down and die... so you can live in your better world?
????: I'm not going to live there. There's no place for me there... any more than there is for you... I'm a monster. What I do is evil. I have no illusions about it, but it must be done.
**************
Yo si creo que el fin justifica los medios. Intentar hacer que los medios no conlleven efectos colaterales es bondadoso, sin embargo no se debe acostumbrar uno a recibir ese tipo de bondad siempre.
El mundo está podrido. El mal es el bien, pero podrido. Y sin embargo todos somos buenas personas, deseamos serlo.
Rossieu tenía razón.
O no?
********
"I wanted to know about the messiah- the one who appears out of nowhere and saves the world. Except sometimes he doesn't. All those times in history when there was no sign of him. I wanted to know why not. But I don't need to ask anymore. I know the answer now. Sometimes, God must look at this world and turn away in shame."
**************
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