21 mars 2009

3 fingers ... tell a story

one - just a prod
two - a little futher 
three- JACKPOT !!! 

so tells the story of the three fingers, they entered and they left, the pot of gold a the end of the tunnel. and like a train they rushed through the tunnel lighting up. 

or it too can be described, like an explorer in a cave.  a deep deep cave. plunging down deep deep three great explorers into the unknown. 

..... ok ok this is an inside joke. and is not meant to be understood by random readers. yup 

and bryan if you see this... :P  

20 mars 2009

I cant believe i am back here...

and yes... I am back... here.. again. 

and no it is not fun coming back to the computer and typing something. Because of my great disdain for typing, blogging is sometimes quite tiresome without inspiration. 

Apart from that, there is really not much apart from the fact that I have holiday homework undone and that there are only 3 days left. Oh and I have been rather moody recently hmmm must be the weather... 

Oh and talking about that, we have absolutely DREADFUL weather down here. HOT AS HELL!!!

so this is just a small update for those of you who actually do waste your time looking at this... know that you should be getting off your bum and actually doing something... better. 

17 mars 2009

the song of the BOHEMIAN !!

Who died? Our Akita Evita You make fun - yet I'm the one Attempting to do some good Or do you really want a neighborhood Where people piss on your  Stoop every night? Bohemia, Bohemia's A fallacy in your head This is Calcutta, Bohemia is dead Dearly beloved we gather here to say our goodbyes Dies irae - dies illa, Kyrie eleison Yitgadal v'yitkadash Here she lies, no one knew her worth The late great daughter of Mother Earth On these nights when we Celebrate the birth In that little town of Bethlehem We raise our glass - you bet your ass to -  La vie Boheme La vie Boheme La vie Boheme La vie Boheme La vie Boheme To days of inspiration  Playing hookey, making Something out of nothing The need to express-  To communicate, To going against the grain, Going insane, going mad To loving tension, no pension To more than one dimension, To starving for attention, Hating convention, hating pretension Not to mention of course, Hating dear old Mom and Dad To riding your bike, Midday past the three-piece suits To fruits - to no absolutes-  To Absolute - to choice- To the Village Voice- To any passing fad To being an us for once ... instead of a them!! La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme Ahhemm Hey Mister - she's my sister So that's five miso soup, four seaweed salad Three soy burger dinner, two tofu dog platter And one pasta with meatless balls Eww It tastes the same If you close your eyes And thirteen orders of fries Is that it here? Wine and beer! To hand-crafted beers Made in local breweries To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese To leather, to dildoes, to curry vindaloo To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion Creation, vacation Mucho masturbation Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new To Sontag To Sondheim To anything taboo Ginsberg, Dylan Cunnigham and Cage, Lenny Bruse Langston Hughes To the stage To Uta. To Buddha. Pablo Neruda, too. Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow To blow off Auntie Em La vie Boheme Sisters? We're close Brothers! Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens, Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman German wine, turpetine, Gertrude Stein Antoniotti, Bertolucci, Kurosawa Carmina Burana To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstacy Vaclav Havel - The Sex Pistols, 8BC To no shame - never playing the Fame Game To marijuana To sodomy, it's between God and me To S & M Waiter ... Waiter ... Waiter ....... Waiter! La vie Boheme In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon  will commence immediately following dinner ...  Maureen Johnson, just back from her spectacular one-night engagement at the eleventh street lot,  will perform Native American tribal chants backwards through her vocoder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello -  which she ain't never studied. And Mark Cohen will preview his new documentary about his inability  to hold an erection on the high holy days. And Mimi Marquez, clad only in bubble wrap,  will perform her famous lawn chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred.  And Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song.  That doesn't remind us of "Musetta's Waltz!" Angel Dumott Schunard will model the latest fall fashions  from Paris while accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub. And Collins will recount his exploits as anarchist -  including the tale of the successful reprogramming of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment to self-destruct, as it broadcasts the words "Actual reality - Act Up - Fight AIDS"

15 mars 2009

to be or not to be... REVOLUTION !!!

Revolutions are made by people with ideas, Rebellions are made by people with BIG MOUTHS!!! 

now on to my rant... oh how i loath my school... of course i shall not mention my school's name lest it cause me to loose my job. 

Tomorrow, on monday, i have the awful obligation to hear my boss speak, disgusting. and he is bloody going to rant on for 4 bloody hours. Oh Mon Dieu!!! 

it is sick, and cruel to take away my holiday which i am entitled to. They take it away like that ... unbelievable. (i roll my eyes in absolute disdain) 

i'ld rather be at home with my lolita than be... there sitting there listening to him drone and drone and drone. his mere presence could kill... my sanity. Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu l'idiot sanglant est une douleur ! 

yes that ends my rant.