Fuck my chicken looks awesome. My chicken smells awesome as well. Damn, I'm pretty sure my chicken tastes awesome, too. In fact, I'll go and eat my chicken. Right now.
Dang, I was spot on. The chicken was great. In fact, it mellowed me out so bad that I had to space out for a few hours in front of my computer, reading Achewood and occasionally answering trivia questions on #triviaholics. Oh, and finishing translating this one text for this one woman, you know... Man, I butchered it. Totally. A dyslexic third-grader could have done a better job.
Yeah. Today I finally dragged good old Blowfish on to the solid ground for the winter. I was supposed to be helped out by Bonus, but the silly bastard drank himself silly and was quite incapacitated when it came to boat lifting. Luckily Mr.Z had some spare time, so he helped me out. Phew. Would have been unpleasant doing it alone, like last year. Poor old thing, I feel sorry for the neglect she has had to endure for the past two months. I still need to take some crap out of her, like curtains, books, surplus food and all sorts of paraphernalia that tends to accumulate on a boat if you live on it for a month. Yeah, and I'm thinking of washing her decks as well, which is a bit of a problem, since it involves buckets, cold water, and scrubbing decks the old skool way. Man, I wish I'd have bought that pressure washer. But then I'd need 25 meters of garden hose to get the water to it (or then buy a 50l bucket like I saw one bloke do at the marina and feed the washer from that), and about the same length of weather proof extension cord for the electricity.
But enough about the boat. Man, I don't think I've got anything else to say here. I think I'll go watch "Spanglish" and then that new episode of South Park I leeched a few days ago... Then I'll go suck on a shotgun in the shower.
But hey! Links before that. First, awesome Do-Nothing-O'Matic. Man, that shit must have took days to build. And then for some predictions for the year 2000 from December 1900. I am still waiting for that pneumatic tube delivering whatever I order to my place. And then a few video responses to that deranged Britney fan. Then some famous last words. A fitting end to a post.
The much praised chicken.
Heya. Guess what I've been doing? I've been playing photographer. I've been taking pictures of photogenic firemen all day today, since they have to get their ID's renewed. And a few days before that I was taking pictures of some postal workers, for the same reason. Those two do not compare well. I don't know what is it that makes many government employees, especially the blue collar variety, mutate into deformed creatures that look like they'd writhe and sizzle under honest daylight. At least the firemen were easier on the eyes, and their rough-housing was amusing. The obese zombies at the postal hub were, unsurprisingly, not the most boisterous of individuals... Another mildly awesome thing about working at the fire station was that they had this intercom thingy that chimed a little and gave cryptic details of whatever accident the firemen were rushing to. That made the work cooler by association, which is kinda sad.
As to that other workplace where I had folks "eating out of my hand"... Well, that didn't work out that great. They must have noticed the glint of insincerity in my eye when they asked me whether I was ready to commit myself to the job for a longer period of time. Heh, yeah, sure. Good thing I didn't get it though, the current gig pays a lot better. Hope that answers your question, J. By the way, J, that cutout character on my monitor (taken from Achewood, one of my favorite online comics), the one in the cape, in the lower picture of the day reminds me of you in your wilder years. Ah, how soon hath time, the subtle thief of youth...
Well, that's it really. Oh, except that my good friend from the north eastern wastes has finally migrated south. Congratulations on a wise choice, Sir. I would salute you, but I am not wearing a stitch at the moment so I have nothing to salute you with.
In other news, I am massively fucking up my college education, and am thinking of quitting the whole thing. The past few years have felt like being suspended in limbo, and that's more than my head can take. So if it's digging ditches for me, then so be it. I am tired of this state of constant suspension and uncertainty.
That's it. I can't concentrate on Dexter with all this blogging. So I give you the links, and you leave me alone to watch my shows, deal? Ok, here's 6 reasons why the 70's should have killed us all. And as for this Japanese English lesson, well, it damn well near killed me. And then 57 things we know because we play video games. Hey, game on... And this one is for J: The Road to Serfdom. No sarcasm, just think you'll find that interesting. And hey, why don't you go give Kim Jong Il a make-over. The poor chubster needs it... Ok, I'm off to grapple with my demons. Wish me luck.
This is how we works.
My new pals.
Another wasted (although Friday was fun) weekend, another pointless week. I finally got my act together and went to see a doc. About that flu and the breathing problems I got later. And good news, there appears to be nothing wrong with my lungs, at least. Nor are there any signs of inflammation, according to my blood tests. So all this stuff was probably just in my mind...
Somehow that doesn't really make me feel any better. I've been noticing this gradual decline into depression and insanity for the past few months now, and I'm not at all sure what to do about it. It's been about 2 years, maybe a bit less, since the last bout, and I barely made it through that. I guess I'll call the shrinks tomorrow and schedule an appointment. With luck I'll see somebody in a few weeks, or then have a major meltdown and will get to see somebody immediately. Thing is, the reason for seeing the shrink is that I want to avoid the said meltdown. Catch 22, I think. Maybe I should start self-medicating. I still have some fevarin left from the olden days. Or maybe I should avoid getting wasted and then ingesting lethal amounts of caffeine on top of a hungover. I mean, that'd drive sane people bonkers, not to mention me.
Anyway, I started working at the same company I've worked for before, where my mum and her ex boyfriend work as well. I seem to always gravitate to that, sigh... Maybe I should just give in. And the pay isn't bad, plus it's the only place so far that has any growth potential. Right now our company is represented at the security expo, so I'll be standing around, pitching products I know little about. Oh well, why not. There is a much more exciting expo going on next door, though. AudioVisual 2007. That's where the top picture's from, that place filled with eye-catching shiny things and smug, annoying people. That's where I go on my breaks.
Ok, gonna go watch Top Gear now. And try to hold things together here. Maybe I'll read a nice book. Unfortunately though, I'm stuck reading Robin Hobb's mildly atrocious "Forest Mage".
Linkdump... Don't land with your brakes on! And then one lucky pilot, from the same source. Oh yeah, and sorry about the shitty pics.
Hia, y'all! Guess what? The kind nurses here at the cozy Asylum for Obsessive-Compulsive Hypochondriacs with Learning Disabilities (AOCHLD for short) let me go to town today, all on my own! Yeah, on the bus, too. With strangers. In retrospect, I should have perhaps washed my armpits a tad longer. And looked for that deodorant a bit more thoroughly. And maybe not have worn 3 layers of winter clothing and a scarf... But I'll get it right next time, you wait and see! If they ever let me go out again after that fiasco at the pet store... That froggie was beggin' for some courtin' if you ask me...
Anyway, what bought me to town was that my legs were starting to turn back into fins from all that lack of use. And then I read that there were going to be some lingerie/stockings/some other sexy girly stuff show at Stockmanns. I didn't read very carefully. Boy was I wrong. All I got from Stockmanns were two free samples of new Diesel perfume. And even that was more like near Stockmann... Anyway, I guess better luck tomorrow.
Another thing I've noticed is the new fad on the street: East European beggars. I, for one, don't understand why the cops aren't doing anything. I know you can rent patches of street, like the street musicians do, but begging is kind of hard to pass off as performance art, isn't it? And am I being heartless? No. These people have handlers, and are only a step above those Romanian pick-pocket gangs that were operating in Helsinki last Summer. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if they turn out to be a part of the same organization. Their handlers get richer off the misery of the beggars and the gullibility of the passers-by. I mean, this is fucking Finland people. You have to work too hard to be homeless here! Drunk bums get more money from the government than factory workers in East Europe! And refugees, even ones denied permanent visas, get housing and welfare money prior to deportation! And there are practically no illegals! Definitely not plying their trade on the friggin sidewalks! So all this cannot be anything else but a poorly thought out scam from Romania or somewhere equivalent. Sure, it might work in Germany, certainly in France, but for fuck's sake, get these bullshit artists off our streets..! For their own bloody good. And hang their handlers by the balls somewhere where their screams won't be bothering anyone.
Phew. Yeah, got that off my chest. Will go drink that tea now, and watch every hypochondriacs favorite show, House..! Talking of which, I think some of my symptoms at least are caused by nicotine withdrawal and resulting anxiety. But that abdominal pain... Sigh. I almost puked on the bus, couldn't breathe, sweated cold sweat by the bucket, but at the end of the day... Well, it might just have been a simple panic attack.
Anyway, some links for you to gawk at 'fore I go. Here, take a look at 10 biggest sex mistakes men & women make in bed. I haven't read it, tell me if its any good... Ok, and then a Britney vs. Lindsay life expectancy calculator. And for the last, some "All in your dirty imagination" commercials! Oh, and I bet this gal won't be thinking about sex for a while.
I haven't brushed teeth in 5 days, I think. And haven't had a shower in 3. And the novelty value is wearing pretty thin. On the other hand I haven't left the house since Sunday three days ago, so there hasn't been anyone to brush teeth or wash hair for. Plus my cat kinda likes to cuddle in stinky armpits. And I'm still sort of sick, so taking a shower feels like something one shouldn't do. I dunno why, guess its some sort of a holdover from the middle ages. Anyone else feel the same way, at least when sick?
And this sickness thing is getting kind of worrisome. It feels like I've developed arthritis, Alzheimer's and asthma all at the same time. At least the fever's down, even though I still get the sweats & shivers. But meh, still, not going to the vet. I mean doc. And I think I'm already on the 4th out of five stages of dying. Being a hypochondriac is handy like that, kinda like a dress rehearsal. But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you. And it's kinda hard on the ole' noggin.
But fuck me, what do I know, old dying man that I am. Let me tell you of the wedding instead! First, let me just say that it all turned out just fine. I don't know if you've ever been to Russian weddings, but they sure aren't like Finnish ones. And thank God for that! The two Finnish ones I've been to had me crying from boredom, plus I hated messing up the church toilets when slitting my wrists with shards of plastic champagne glasses... I mean, CSI's cool and all, but there are limits. Russian weddings have people hired to make sure there are no boring moments. Plus awkward speeches by decaying relatives are kept to a legal minimum. Oh, and there is no restriction on how much free booze you can consume.
I was supposed to arrive early on Saturday to take part in being a "witness", I think, but our fast ferry was canceled due to the weather, so we had to take a slow boat. Being a witness means taking part in all sorts of fun (and/or humiliating) activities before the actual banquette. There are more than one, though, usually, so I didn't fuck it up too badly. Unfortunately for me I had a brilliant idea, and got wasted the night before, and almost didn't make it to the ferry. So 'twas a bit of a luck that the fast boat got delayed. Plus I had some time to nurse my hangover, to the lovely sounds of a lederhosen band. Yeah, the shipping company had an Oktoberfest theme going. The "Lederhosen Bluffo" band was pretty good, IMHO.
So when we got to town it was straight to the wedding with me. Well, except for buying some flowers. And eating at some crappy cafeteria. You know, like in case they'd have skimped on the guest-grub. Turned out to be a mistake, btw. But where was I... The wedding was held at Hotel Oru, a decent enough place, 3 stars & all, cozy, new. Cheap, too, since I had to bunk there for the night. It was great. Come to the wedding, get tanked, crawl to sleep upstairs! Awesome.
So anyway, wedding, speeches, bla-bla, friends, relatives, booze, food... Games! Yeah, games. Staple of a decent Russian wedding. Gets the crowd mingling. And what a crowd... A third from Estonia, a third from Moscow, a third from Finland. Or something like that. The percentage might be off. The Muscovites were great! Won't go into details now, my arthritis's playing up, hard to type. After the wedding there was a choice to be made. Either its upstairs and sleep or then its downtown and party. And downtown it was. Except that little partying was done. We went to Club Hollywood, and after sorta twitching there for 15 minutes I went off in search of a toilet and got separated from the crowd. Yeah. So I spent about 3 hours looking and waiting and calling. I shoulda just gone to the hotel, but I thought they had my wardrobe slip. And I knew I had one of theirs. And then they call me. Yeah, from the hotel. The wankers. Turned out this one retarded chicklet got all out of hand and had to be "evacuated".
Next morning was dismal. I knew I lost my passport, or left it at the club, in the jacket. But lo and behold! What does my room mate discover in the closet? Right on the bottom? Yeah, the damn jacket! Along with the passport... Oh, and the roomie that drunk himself stupid and dumped my white ass back at the club? Yeah, his passport was there. Russian passport, too, with the visa and all. Poor bastard had to stay in town for a while, but got his passport back in the end. And they all lived happily ever after. Except that on returning to Helsinki I felt like I've had holes burned in my lungs, my blood replaced with acid and my eyes lovingly boiled and then re-inserted.
Now I have a hard choice to make. Should I have a cup of tea, a Mojito long-drink or a bottle of beer that I've been cooling in the fridge for the past few hours? Will be weird, drinking beer without a cig, but hey... This time I gave it up for good, dawg! 3 days and counting.
As for links... Well, what the hell. Ok, here's a list of 25 skills every man should know. I think I've got... Yeah, 17 down. Not bad. I've never backed up a trailer and I've never bled brakes. Then, uh, some most collectible PC's ever. Find them bitches and sell 'em on eBay. Ok, now I'm seriously tired. Plus I've gotta finish watching Malibu's Most Wanted. What? I've got crap taste in movies sometimes...
A foggy seascape.
Hey! Pilot to the rescue.
Generic witness protection wedding photo.
No, come on, seriously! I'm still on my fucking deathbed here! This shit ain't fun nor funny no more. I'm coughing up pieces of lung and vomit through the night, my cat won't even sleep with me any more. Um, wait, that sounded sort of pathetic. Replace "cat" with "girlfriend", ok? Now where was I... Ah yes, FUCKING DYING! Some of you might think that I should drag my trembling sweaty ass to see the doctor, but I disagree. That would mean admitting sickness, and then you might as well buy a plot at the local cemetery. And I need to be well for the wedding party in Tallinn on Saturday.
Anyway, I managed to crawl out of bed around noon today, since didn't get much sleep at night, feeling somewhat wobbly, had a shower and was off. Thing is, I wrecked my keyboard yesterday. It was one of them embarrassing "accidents" that happen to my keyboards every few months or so. And so I crawled outside, bundled up to my ears... While exploring the mysterious outside, I managed to acquire a splendid multitude of pretty things! First of all, I had to pick up new specs that I ordered a few days ago. The frames were old Gant's, my dad lifted them somewhere four or so years ago, I think, so the design isn't all that hot. But it doesn't matter, will only wear them at home anyway, when my eyes need a rest from wearing contacts. Then, a new keyboard. It's white, it's cheap, it's spill resistant! One more advantage is that I can now properly see my red Russian keyboard layout letter stickers on it, unlike on the previous black keyboard. Then I got myself cozy slippers! I needed them for a long time, and now I finally remembered to buy them. I am now impervious to the cold, as I sit by my computer. What else, what else... Oh yeah, lifted something. For the first time in ages. I wanted to buy new headphones for my iPod, since the ones I had suck donkey balls, and it just sorta happened that I walked out with nice new headphones, and didn't have to waste 110€ on them, either. Sigh, I've still got it. Just better not make a habit out of it. Not that I've ever had that problem, mind you. Anyway, the sound quality difference between my 110€ Sony MDR-EX90LP and my old, 10€ MDR-E819V is simply staggering. Who'd have thunk it!
But now I really don't feel that great. I guess I should pop some pills and go lie down. And try not to think scary thoughts. At least I haven't smoked a single cigarette since the 17th...
Sigh. Then some links... Tim Burton, the guy behind Edward Scissorhands, Nightmare Before Xmas, Beetlejuice, has at one point created a children's book, Melancholy Death of Oysterboy. Now go learn 7 ways to light a fire. It'll come useful at my funeral pyre, if nobody brings any matches... Ok, I go now. Sniff.
My feets in awesome new slippers.
Man, I'm still sick. I bet that mangy cunt gave me AIDS. Or that I successfully smoked my way to lung cancer. Either way, head hurts, I get the chills, and I cough like a tubercular hobo. And about that quitting smoking bit, some days ago? Didn't happen. I snapped on Friday, right before the wedding. Will attempt again now, having smoked my last fag a few hours ago.
But enough about me... Wait. What?! No, no! Me is the point of this otherwise completely pointless exercise. This is a blog, after all. So, lets talk about me some more, then. I had a job interview today. Yes, for a real job. I won't say what I'm doing yet, or gonna be doing. But lets face it, they were eating out of my hand, being desperate for Russian native speakers. I'll get the job, even though there are 40 other suckers gunning for the 2 available places. But what of it? It's a shit job, when you get down to it. Sure, were I 20... But I'm not.
In other news, I bought a 320Gb Buffalo USB Drive today. Like, wow, huh? That'll postpone the need for a complete upgrade for, what, at least a few weeks..? Now moved all of my mp3's on to it, and the bloody iTunes can't get all 20gb of them re-listed at once, so I have to feed them in a few folders at a time. Riveting stuff. I bet I'll knock it over in a few days and ruin it, losing all of my music in the process.
Oh, and I got a postcard from Chukotka today! Yeah, from a little village of Evgekino, on the shores of the Bering sea. Alex was there sometime ago. Now that would be a place to visit! Properly remote, extreme shit. Alex wrote that he's stuck there, having missed his plane, and that the coal train he wanted to take was headed the wrong way, whatever than meant. I guess he's made it out of there by now, what with the weeks it took this card to get to Finland. Getting stuck there'd be extreme... And not merely meaningless, like being stuck here. They also killed a walrus there... Not sure I'd wanna do that. Definitely not with an AK.
Anyway, I'll go watch Red Dragon now, even though I missed the first hour. I haven't even seen Hannibal, and I've heard that the Red Dragon is shit. But on to the links. To go with the non-smoking theme, here's some Japanese advise on... I don't quite know what, smoking etiquette? With deep and moving words of Engrish wisdom. Then some 9/11 myths debunked. If there's one thing I can't stand, its a Truther.
The weekend is over. Drat. Not that I did anything that spectacular, or anything that I couldn't have done in the middle of the week...
Anyway, I attended a wedding on Friday, 14th. A friend of mine, goes by the name of Ultra, got hitched. A girl from Moscow, nice, educated, pretty. They called me along to be an interpreter for them, since they were getting registered at the town hall, and the ceremony was in Finnish only. It was a low key affair, only the witnesses, me and the groom's parents and brother. Everyone was naturally pretty nervous, except for the parents, and I myself was teetering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I couldn't catch my breath while translating, and had quite an embarrassing stumble at the "I do" bit that must have cost me 5 years of my life at the least. After the ceremony we drove about town, visited some landmarks (its a bit of a tradition, you have to take pictures next to statues, artworks, architectural marvels... I guess it makes for good wedding photos), drank some champagne, and then headed off to Ultra's parents for a little banquet. Boring, but necessary, I'm afraid... Oh, one thing before I stop ranting about the wedding, we visited Seurasaari, and man were the local pigeons friendly! Indecently friendly, actually. Sat all over us, even when not rewarded. Now that I think about it, it sure seems a miracle that we were spared from a festive fecal shower.
Anyway, the actual wedding party is in Tallinn, next weekend. That's when all the drinking, dancing and general merrymaking will be done. Looking forward to that, I am...
But my weekend wasn't over with the wedding. Dimer came down from the frozen northern wastelands he usually inhabits, and we slacked through the rest of the weekend, along with some other young Russian specimens. Didn't really do anything, but it was nice just to hang around. Saturday was great, woke up, smoked some weed, watched some telly, talked lazily, smoked some more weed, went to town, met some friends, smoked some more weed, took some people to my place, played xbox, smoked some weed, talked... It was something simple, relaxed, something I don't usually do... Sigh. Anyway, a weekend well spent.
Ahem. Links, then. Since we'll be having a lot more robots around some time soon (and will all be driving flying cars... Yeah, sure...), here's a handy survival guide should the robots rebel. Don't leave home without it! Continuing along these futuristic lines, here's "The 8 Most Common Sci-Fi Visions of the Future" and why they'll never happen. I think I'll throw in another one, and then go eat my (self-madeish) chicken burger. Ok, this is just filler, a flash time line of the development and spread of major religions... Don't ask, it was buried in the potential link list.
And in the darkness bind them...
What a nice, boring day. Well, not boring. Just sort of unusual so far, not very typical. Anyway, I'm making chicken tandoori to go along with some sort of potato balls with cheese in them, and it's kinda smelly in a don't "want kinda" way. Maybe I should go watch over the food instead of sitting here blogging. Brb.
Ok, is chicken tandoori supposed to be porno-pink? And chewy? It's like eating a pink jelly dildo, for chrissake. And I should know. The cheesy potatoes were kinda nice though, although I might have overdone it with the salt, as usual.
So anyway, woke up today, feeling fairly good, almost no coughing, and then just read some books. I got kinda hooked on Stross, among other things. And I find Ralf König's comics amusing... Should I be worried? After a bit of that it was time to peruse the net. I'm downloading "Fade to Black" right now, from a nearly dead torrent, so didn't wanna break that up and instead read random Finnish blogs from blogilista.fi. Now, whenever and wherever you do something like that you're bound to be mostly disappointed. The ratio's like one interesting blog to a hundred crap ones. But... What is the fucking deal with the knitting fever that's swept the Finnish blogosphere? Or is it just that the median age of Finnish bloggers, mimicking that of the general population, is on the rise? Man, honestly...
Anyway, I then took a ride down town. Just for shits and giggles, mostly. There was a matter of new glasses I wanted to buy, but I suffered a massive attack of thriftitis and didn't. And so I walked around, taking pictures with my PowerShot A570IS, since I broke Ixus 50 in moscow. The walking/driving/shooting was kinda fun. My head still hurts from all that fresh sea air.
And that brings me to another announcement. I quit smoking. Again! Yeah, on 9/11. I'm awesome! Except that I did smoke 2 cigarettes on 9/11. No, no, there was no Twin Towers symbolism in that, heavens forbid. The thing that I'm worried about now is do I count the day I quit smoking from the first day I didn't have any cigarettes or from the day I made a decision and stumped out my last cig?
And then there were links... Right, a compilation of kitties. This is because my kitty called me a kack yesterday, when I gently poked her in the head with my finger while she was sleeping on my chest. She looked at me, opened her mouth and said, and I'm not kidding, "Khack". And went away. Sweetie! Then some amusing pics of Russian Cops. That's it then.
Fishing kid. Fishkid.
Well, halloa there, ya'll. Long time no update, eh? I just didn't feel like it, you know. I have developed a psychological aversion, a sort of reverse OCD, about the blog and especially the interface I have to write it in. It took me 2 weeks to convince myself into writing this little entry. But since I am so nice and all, and since I actually got some concerned mail from some people I don't actually know about the blog, I am going to bestow an update upon you. Besides, I am sitting at home, sick, alone and bored. Getting better now, actually, so decided to finally break the silence and wrote.
I guess I should now write a short update as to what I was doing for the past 7 (good lord, I really let the blog slide, didn't I...) months. So here goes. A bit patchy, but what the heck. As some of you know, I have been working in Moscow, where I was staying for almost a month in April - May '07, working for a Finnish ad company that was in turn working for Infront, doing all sortsa advertising stuff for the World Ice-Hockey Championship, like under-ice adds, board adds for the, um, side boards, banners, press-conference room stuff, all that crap. And since I speak Russian, I also did a lot of translating. Especially since some of the stuff had to be printed in situ, and the task of finding printing houses and all that crap fell to me. Very educational, and rather empowering (gods I hate that word). This all was just so that you have a basic idea of what we were doing, or were supposed to be doing, in Moscow. We lived in a 2 room apartment near the center of Moscow, all 5 of us, which led to some interesting sleeping arrangements. I slept between two of my friends on a folding couch, which was fairly wide, but not quite wide enough. I got used to that in about a week or so, but the guys were always a bit wary of me, since I tended to have dramatic nightmares and sit up screaming in the middle of the night, sprouting gibberish and generally scaring the hell out of everyone. That Moscow trip was beyond awesome... Sigh. I will always remember it...
Then there was the annual boat trip, undertaken with Bonus for the first two weeks, this time a modest one, around the archipelago and then Mariehamn, Åland. We wanted to go to Estonia instead, at first, but Bonus didn't get a visa, in part due to the idiotic Statue Riots in Estonia. The sailing bit of the cruise took about 4 weeks, but I was absent for five all in all, since in between weeks 2 and 4 I went cycling to Bornholm with my olde mates for a week. All nice, clean rainy fun. I personally Logged only about 120Km, and that with great difficulty, falling prey to flu in the end. I'm really out of shape. But the main idea was to see old mates, so that doesn't matter much... So with all this traveling I was absent from Helsinki for 35 days... And didn't miss it much, except for some creature comforts. Came back looking like a gypsy, all black, greasy and poor. Was that racist? Well, as long as it's funny...
So I hung around town for a bit over a week and then shot off to southern Russia, Krasnodarskiy Krai, to get some warmth in my old bones, and meet some friends and relatives. And boy did I get it. Man, the heat was unimaginable. As high as +45 in shade. Left out in the sun the thermometers just exploded, maiming passersbys with quicksilver-poisoned shrapnel. Ok, well, not really, I just sorta added that for color, you know. But they might have, if left out in the sun. You never know... But I digress. Just taking a walk without a hat on was tautamont to suicide, at least for me. I got myself a mild sun stroke during a 15 minute walk that way. I never got completely used to the heat during the 3 weeks I stayed there. But fun was had, drinks were drunk, relatives met and the sea swum and shat in. I even managed to meet an old friend of mine during my one-night stop over in St. Pete's, Sasha Gronsky, completely by accident. That bugger travels way too much, and is even now taking fancy pictchoors somewhere in Kamchatka, for jeebus' sake.
So that's what I've been doing all this time. Sounds like fun, huh? Yeah, it sure was. I coulda written heaps upon heaps of interesting entries, with smashing photos, if only I could have been bothered. But alas, lack of any kind of motivation has always been my shameful trademark. But now I guess I might start the tradition up again, will carry my new camera around with me more, and just write. It's therapeutic, you know. And my memory being what it is, also fairly useful as a diary. I'm not promising I'll write, but it's not as if I owe you anything...
Anyway, links then. First, this awesome footage of a cruise ship tossed around by a cyclone in the Med. Then, a fast-paced, awesome rough weather sailing video from BT Global Challenge. Not sure that'd be fun... But I'd do it. And where would we be without fun predictions of the future? Here are some "Miracles you'll see in the next 50 years" from 1950... Ok, enough. I'll go shopping now. Or shoplifting, not sure which yet.
Yes, yes, I've been somewhat tricksy again. Ten days since the last post, the post where I sounded fairly optimistic about getting my sleep pattern back to normal. And just as a little aside, no, it didn't happen. Not that night. Some inconsiderate git interrupted my slumber with frantic, semi-coherent phone calls in the middle of the night over some inconsequential matter concerning cutlery. Now, however, I've reigned in my drinking and am able to enjoy some quality Zzz's. Except that nowadays I tend to (fairly often) fall asleep around 10pm and wake up around 8am. I.e. like some sort of a normal person. Weird.
Ah, but now I sits here, watching Mr.Bean, nice and well rested after a fairly uneventful weekend. A couple from up north (north east, to be precise) decided to drop by and spend the weekend at my place. No other concrete plans were made clear, and none conceived while they were here, so we pretty much ended up sitting at home, smoking grade-A weed and playing Monopoly. My Monopoly board deserves a mention of its own here. It's a 60th Anniversary Edition, in a custom box, with its own unique limited edition number, awesome "old timey" brass figurines and special card holders for Community and Chance cards... Got it in mint condition (!) for only 10€ at a flee market.
Ahem, where was I... Ok, why don't I just go over the other extraordinary events that shaped my life during the past ten days? Ok, well here's a nice one. I was feeling really tired and bored on the 17th, having had very little sleep, so decided to meet a buddy in Kallio for a relaxed lunch. We went to Soul Kitchen, had some surprisingly good food (Although with those prices anything else would have been a crime) and attempted to figure out what on earth could we do next. All that boozing that I managed to squeeze into the past few weeks, with seldom a good reason to it, left me tired of gloomy subterranean drinking holes and their patrons. Outside, the air was crisp and the sun bright. Big windows and airy spaces filled with happy people beckoned. So we settled on a civilized game of pool at Trickshot (both the buddy & the pool pictured on the right). It was a nice, lazy game on a nice, lazy day on a pleasantly full stomach. I won, my score 3 games out of 5. Mostly by accident. Afterwards a couple of fairly exotic & expensive beers were had at Belge, but it proved to be too noisy and a bit too clubby on a Saturday, so we moved to Vinyl. A few other friends joined us there as time went on, and what started as a quiet, almost dignified, afternoon quickly turned into a warm, extraordinarily humorous gathering of friends. Unfortunately one of us had to leave in order to attend an engagement party at Stockholm Diskotek. Me and Jyga went off with him, deciding to make a quick pit-stop over at Lady Moon. Stockholm proved to be really dull. First of most of the people there were surreal mockeries of real human beings. Fake-tan plastic barbies, exuding the air of impenetrable snottiness, strutted their stuff around with not a hint of irony or self depreciation. I haven't been to places like that for so long that their existence adopted an almost anecdotal status in my mind. In any case, it gave me & Jyga the mother-loving creeps, so we finished the beers and went off to the railway station for our respective rides home. It must have been close to midnight...
So there I stand, slowly freezing to death and trying not to fall asleep, when I heard somebody exclaiming my name in Russian. And there they were, a gaggle of russkies, some that I've never seen, others that I haven't seen in ages. They grabbed me under the arm and stated, matter-of-factly: "We're going to Lux! We've got VIP entrance there. And you're coming along". After a few half-hearted protests I decided to just give in and go with the flow... After all, I'd never go to Lux voluntarily, so why not see it with a few friends I've not met in ages? Especially with VIP access...
To cut the crap short, it was ok. I quickly discarded my exhaustion, replacing it vigor from some hidden reservoir of strength, and danced the night away to cheese like YMCA and It's Raining Men. To sum it up, totally not my kind of place, with out-of-control prices (0,33 beer went for about 6€, I think) and atrociously slow service. And too many airheads. As for the design, it was sort of eh. You know, okay but eh.
The rest of the week went by in a blur. Nothing special, Ski holidays, Simpsons during the day, a few pints every few evenings, nice and easy. Life is starting to = good average again. Ok, gotta go fry that chicken and make the tomato pure now, before the Simpsons start...
Sweet zombie Jesus, I'm so full now, gotta lie down asap... Oh well, let's get this all wrapped up. Links then. Lovely miss Leelee Sobieski, in a shoot that does justice to her well developed chest. And talking about chests, well here's a trailer for a new Dead or Alive Extreme game. They went a bit overboard, I think. Then an a cappella rendition of Bitches Ain't Shit by some college choir. God, hope I make it to the couch...
Cool pic, huh?
¡Burritos! By me for me.
Yawn. Feels like I haven't had sleep in days. Wait. Yes... That's right, I haven't! It all makes sense now. The sudden losses of memory, panic attacks, the empty early morning hours staring at BBC News, wishing something spectacularly terrible would finally happen, the constant feeling of having been hit on the head with a poisonous frying pan... So yeah, all jokes aside, I obviously still haven't been able to fix my sleeping pattern. See, these days I tend to go to bed at around 6pm, wake up around 10pm, then back to bed at midnight, and awake again at 3 or 4am. Bit of a bother, that. I think it might have something to do with a bit of an alcohol problem I've been busy at lovingly nurturing these past two weeks. Or was that two months..? Might be, at that. Might be... Sigh. Anyway, the little novelty there was is quickly wearing off, so I think I'll be throttling down the ol' afterburners and returning back to my normal, aimless subsonic flight plan.
Anywho, tonight some semblance of balance and normality shall be returned. I have forced myself to stay up past my usual passing out point, and will be hitting the sack any time now, around 10 or 11pm. I figure that will force me to have a nice 8 or 9 hours of sleep, thereby setting me back on track. I even abandoned a bar night in order to accomplish that. Granted, never planned to stay there long anyway, and some of the company sucked donkey nuggets, plus the ex informed me that our stomping grounds would be overlapping that night, but none the less... A small step for mankind, one giant leap for a budding alcoholic.
Another reason for a subdued celebration is that I visited my school yesterday and had a long talk with my mentor. I just don't want to fuck my chance at a degree, as pathetic and useless as it might be. I had my little glimpse at menial and meaningless jobs out there, doing one now, and I don't wanna do that for the rest of my life. I'm just not the type, and I'm not even sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Not enough self confidence, perseverance and other vital stuff like that, perhaps. Still searching for some meaning to it all as well, I guess. In any case, I got a heroes welcome back at school. The teacher that everyone fears, the strictest, meanest harpy I've met since my days back at the English School practically slobbered all over my pale, sleep deprived arse.
Oh, and on a somewhat more cheery note, I wish you all a happy, albeit rather belated, Valentine's day! This lovely comic strip pretty much sums up my Valentine's day. I laughed over that strip for ages. And then, very probably, don't remember, had a wank. Probably. I mean, it's something I'd do, were I me.
Anyway. I thought of squeezing this bit somewhere in as well, the bit about visiting the boat show, but found no better place than this one here. To make a long, boring story really short, it was somewhat disappointing. No more about that then.
So, finally, the links. Here, remember "When Harry met Sally"? Well, here's a nice remake of the trailer. Creepy. To go on with the creepy theme, here's another one of those before and after make-up collages. Although I must admit I liked a few of them birds better sans war paint. Ok, and if you really want to push the creepy factor, watch an uncut amateur video of an air show crash at Sknyliv... Extremely graphic. You've been warned. Ok, I'm serious here. This disaster happened in 2002, here's more info on it.
These are the floors of our lives.
Eh. Dirty show-off...
You know, shopping at 9am after having had not a wink of sleep all night can be an interesting, even mind-blowing, experience. At times scary as well, but you've just gotta ride the dread, dude. Don't let the dread ride you, like. However, the waves of dread aren't the only problem. You have to also get to the mall somehow. Public transportation in a semi-delirious state can be a bit of a, well, bummer. So driving is the obvious solution. Why suffer needlessly when you can recklessly endanger innocent ("Show me an innocent and I'll be the first to cast a stone", like Jesus taught) lives on the road? What I didn't factor in was the bitchin' blizzard that drastically reduced visibility and the killer ice patches on the road, not to mention my general giggly-jittery lack of both coordination and concentration. Oh, and that my drivers license expired almost half a year ago. Cops generally frown upon that.
Anyway, made it to the mall in one, albeit nervous and twitchy, piece. Even checked on my boat resting in its winter berth on the way, and everything seemed to be in order, that is to say it was still there and covered with a tarp.
The mall was big. And quiet. And fairly empty. I was empty too, my tired soul insulated from reality by a thick layer of mental fatigue, everything seeming clear yet somehow out of focus at the same time. Everything was muted, sound lacked body. Things were hard to follow, rapid movement intimidating. It was somewhat akin to a meth trip, and I speak from (luckily limited) experience. But hey, I came to do some shopping and that was what I did.
So, before getting what I really came for, i.e. food, I went to look at DVD's. Sad movies that I've seen before, even DVD covers that looked sorta sad, had the effect of driving me near to tears. I decided not to shop for DVDs any more, but not before grabbing "Black Hawk Down" and "Constantine". Hey, they were on sale... I then proceeded to look at some discount clothing, and ended up buying a psychedelic red-black striped scarf. Note to self: don't shop when mentally impaired. But I liked the sales girl. And her big, heavy breasts, trying to burst from the confines of her thin cotton blouse. And I could feel it with every fiber of my being that she liked me. However, I decided against stalking her home. I was, after all, tripping, and might even have been wrong.
Next came the bookstore, and there I picked up "The Illustrated Atlas of the Universe", a book about meter by meter in size, for just 13 Eur. Now just have to find space on the bookshelves... I was feeling progressively more exhausted, so decided to proceed down to the food store and bought about 50 Eur worth of all sorts of goodies and needies. The time was almost 10am by then, and I had one last task to complete. Returning library books that were a bit overdue. That was done as well, after a bit of nervous driving, but not without trouble. My bad vibe must have somehow infected the book return machine, so the bugger died on me. And they had to dig out the books I was attempting to return from its guts. No rest for the wicked.
The way home went smoothly enough, with me perking up enough not to feel like I was a dire menace to the other drivers any longer. I even stopped at McDonalds for a take-away ElMaco.
I passed out on the bed at home, around 2pm, after a fairly satisfying meal and a nice book, but for only about 3 hours. It was not sleep, but a sticky, sweaty semi-awake nightmare I couldn't wake up from. So here I sit now, hoping I'll sleep the sleep of the righteous this night. Or at least some night.
Anyway, you still get the links. Free of charge, as always, against my better judgment and the wishes of my financial adviser. This one's cool. I've had this feeling a few times, lately, although never in a jacuzzi. I suspect it might not even be staged, it's hard to really feel what's going on down there in warm water, after a drink or two. Then some pretty pictures, in Eye of Yurka. Then more talking cats and a video of a poor dumb bastard failing the first question on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire"...
Bag stuck in tree. Has to be art, then.
Hah! Oh dear... Let me go have a smoke first. Yes. Quite. now I've had my smoke du joure . Or was it do fifteen minutes? Me not quite know nor quite care. Damn it. I'm just too friggin drunk. The keyboard is a puzzle to me now. WPM down to 10. So many letters and so many possible meanings to be conjured out of them. Besides, finding the right buttons is hard work in itself.
I just said "hi!" to the fridge, and the fridge smiled upon me with his wide hippopotamus smile. And you know what? Mr. Fridge gave me beer. Which is more than I can say for the most of you. Sigh. I know. You're sad to see me like this. But... Have you ever considered how hard it is to type while intoxicated? No? Hah! Me thoughts so. Not quite on the subject, but still... Fuck thee.
Anyway. This past week has been an exercise in depravity (Rome had fallen into moral putrefaction). Just complete desperate depravity (I happen to like the word), something you think of when depressed but never quite do. Yet I did it, yay me. And what do I have to show for it? Uh. Uh. We never agreed to talk about it on the BLOG. No mention of it in my contract. And where's the moneys? I wants the moneys... Millionses.
Things got worse since I did the alleged nasty with my good friends girlfriend. I just... I just drank. And drank. And drank some more. And you know what? I really didn't mind that at all. No I did not. But then... I was/am lying. You know what the most beautiful word in English is? That's what they asked us in high school, once. My favourite teacher did, Mr. Leslie Hammond. The common answer was "love" or "beauty" or something like that... But in my opinion it's always been "Lie". The multitude of meanings is one thing, but the collection of beautiful letters is quite another. Just try saying it out loud. Drawl it out long...
Anyway, you must be all a quiver with excitement about my misdemeanors. I shall not share them details with you. Not really. Except that I... Well let's just say I did something a bit stupid, even if it did feel like a good idea at the time.
I know. Good boy Harry. Again? That deed per se means I´m not a man, I think. And a man I am not, really. I'm a thirty year old boy. I think most of you have known that for a quite a while. The girls that have tried to fuck me, all five of them (since then), and the much fewer guys that tried the same approach, to them I am just pretty much asexual. Yet, "Then maybe another woman isn't what we really need". 10 bucks for the person who recognizes the quote.
Anyway, I think I've said way too much now, and not enough. I have just found out my grandmother might die any day now. And my grandfather just did. The only member of my family I've ever truly respected. And now she goes too. Not fair. but expectable. She never quite recovered from granddad's death.
At least I had a good time today.
Ye links, leeches. Here's a guy that went hungry for a month, using 30$ a month for food. Then a kitty that's never gonna be adopted... Poor little thing. And then, finally, a test for all you wankers out there. Test your tone ear. Now. My score was 88.9. I'm the man now.
Hah! O RLY?
Me pissed there.
Good grief. Things just can't get any worse, can they? I mean, you hit rock bottom, and think, hey, it's nice and cold here, dark and dry, but then noooo, just take a pickax and start diggin' deeper. Enough to make a grown man cry. Not that I'm crying, mind you. Maybe on the inside, a little. Like clowns.
Anyway. It was the weekend. A mate had his house warming, and a lot of booze was consumed. I had a nice time, but hey, then I come to in a cab, no keys, no phone, no cigs, no nothing. So I start freaking out, and make the cabbie drive to my step dad's place, outside Helsinki, since that's the only place I know where I can crash. So I stumble to the front door and bang on it, then wheedle 50 Eur out of him for the cab bill. Then, and this is a bit unexpected, have a drink with him in the kitchen, and actually talk to him. I just don't know how this can get any more embarrassing. But it does. Just you wait. I waste the next day before I can get a ride to pick up my shit and head home. I have the worst hangover ever. Grab a McMeal on the way, or two actually, gnaw a bit, throw half away, crash on the home couch, grab a few painkillers and just console myself with the idea that the weekend is finally over and the hangover is probably going to eventually pass as well. Little did I know.. Oh how blissful are the ignorant.
Two days passed. Sunday just being bored and lonely, Monday pretty much the same except that I got my mobility back and was looking forward to a nice evening with fried chicken and potatoes. Then a phone call... To cut the crap short I think I made out with a good friend's girlfriend during that party. Don't ask me how. Or why. I don't usually go for that kinda stuff when drunk, as far as I recall. But it happened. I have no idea what actually went on and I don't wanna ask, so I guess I'll just wait and see how the situation plays out. This is just... Oh man, I don't know what to say. Just totally, utterly fucked up.
Anyway, I think I'll go feel utterly crap under the blankets now. So, hey, links. Just some somber ones of interest largely to history / military buffs. Come get em'. Here's a burial at sea video of the K-129 crew by the American navy. The whole affair (as in how come US had bodies of 6 Russian sailors in its custody), was known as "Project Jennifer". Then a small photo shoot from a Russian aircraft boneyard.
Damn it's cold. I just woke up, and clambered out from under the warm security of my blanket out into the freezing living room. It wasn't a long hobble to the computer chair, since I sleep, eat and live in the, well, living room. But it was arduous and uncomfortable to extreme. Having to face the living room in the unforgiving light of day, when the mess I live in is no longer softened by the gentle gloom of the night. So here I sit, rolling my fags with fingers chilled numb, and reading stupid nothings on the net. Just got lost in Wikipedia again, only to surface about an hour later, cold and disoriented. What next? Hot shower, I guess. But blog comes first, otherwise I'll never finish writing.
I had a weird dream today. Weird, romantic and funny, tragic and somewhat confusing, a perfect dream, in other words. It went something like this... I was at a party with some Russian friends and acquaintances, some of whom I haven't seen in ages, a birthday party, I think. I will not bore you with a description of a typically fragmented dream-scape setting. And the weird thing was that one of the guests at the party was some sort of a Russian-speaking Liv Tyler look-alike, whose name was Elizabeth. She was, however, a famous Hollywood star as well, along with an equally famous boyfriend named "Max". The boyfriend was only present as an off-screen threat, as my complete opposite, and the rest of the dream was developing along the lines of my heart-rendingly awkward attempts to strike up conversation with this magnificent, luminous creature, gradually falling into timid, almost reverential, infatuation. This beautiful heart-stopping feeling, this all-enveloping cloud of happiness and contentment whenever I was near her, was not without a streak of bitterness. I had no way of ever making this supreme being my own, and therein lay the tragedy of my dream. None the less, I am still reeling from this fragile romantic fantasy. Ah, to be in love again. No, rather to be in love like that.
Ok, now I came off sounding like an 18th century soppy romantic poet, although, unfortunately, sans the eloquence. Anyway, I think it's time for me to wrap this post up. I wanted to write about something else, a pet peeve, but not today. A word about the pics of the day. They are of the same path near my home, taken a few months apart, the upper one just yesterday. The eerie lighting comes from a ice-skating rink next to it. Anyway, as you all know, Europe, Russia and North Hemisphere in general have been experiencing an unusually warm winter of late. This meant rain, fog and general dampness for Finland. And you know what? I preferred it that way. Give me damp +5c over a crisp -10c any time. I was already hoping that this winter would just gradually morph into spring with not a sub-zero day in between. But alas... The temperatures have been steadily below freezing for the past week, and are looking to continue this way. Man, I just hate winter.
So... Links. Photo oriented, this time, beginning with this sad report from India, dealing with Indian prostitutes. Then some interesting Afghan war photos taken by Captain Prokopchuk, killed in Afghanistan on 7th January 1984. Ok, I'm off. Beer time, methinks.
And then. I prefer then.
and marriage proposals can be sent to:
ASMODEANE at GMAIL dot COM