Fu*king and Punching*

* заглавие на книга от ТВ сериала Californication

--> Дейвид Духовни не е лош, всъщност.

(преди да се стартира четенето на този блок от блога, моля ви прочетете задължително Питбул поредицата на mean-ff. Какво е mean-off? Може би, mean-off, да си измислиш a4etivo nick за да не рискуваме тука неловкости?)

Intro: The kickoff of Summer is upon us. A large no-fly zone has been self-declared upon our city. What is a no-fly zone? It's a zone where there are no flies. Or bees, mosquitoes or any other insects. For now. This is not a geographical area, it is a time period in May and early June before the abovementioned insects grow up to be big and obvious. Now is when the insects are not yet working, happy or depressed, don't have hobbies, do not even exist in our world. When they are not yet sad insect losers - voted off the Insect Idol 2008, the poor bastards (speaking of bastards, check out Christiano?). It's a happy time for us humans, as we don't appreciate having some asshole-fly noise around our Sunday-snooze or some mosquito buzz us out of our sleep on those so-precious-in-terms-of-sleep weekday nights, so that we switch the bright light on, spend 10 minutes not finding HER (because when the light is on, the mosquito tucks away into the nightshade, the female motherfucker!), then we become drastically awake, switch the light off and nearly doze off but get reawakened just before falling back to sleep by our reactivated little hero friend. And no, the no-fly zone does not end when Pchelata returns from Holland...

Main part: But this is not about insects. It's about Sociability. It's about life facts at 30-something. Nothing too depressing or too happy, mind you. No dirty single-guy rooms full of underwear, empty and half-full bottles and shkembes lying around but at the same time no babies, parquet, task allocation and time-planning either. It's a 1 megapixel photo - a bit outdated and oldfashioned, gives you the idea but not the details, chicks don't like it but you do, because you know what's goin' on in there...

There goes Mr. Thursday. An elegant lad in a fedora and a brown pilot leather jacket. No, it ain't Indiana Jones, it's Mr. Thursday. Main difference between Mr. Thursday and Indiana Jones is that Mr. Thursday has nothing to do with Indiana Jones in any aspect imaginable. Mr. Thursday is laying low before the weekend. The party side of Indiana Jones has never been exposed to us by his creators, but I imagine he does not lay low on Thursdays, right, wouldn't you say!? That would be so-un-Indianajones-ey! It's a position very well liked and respected by Mr. Thursday. He sits there with a pair of WWII binoculars and observes the fun from a mold of distant solitude. It's a solid excuse for doing what he prefers - which can be best described as "not doing what he prefers". Give him a multiple-choice test. He'll tell ya...

The silver lining is professional, as always: a 12 bottle row of the favorite brand. This system of bricks, laid out to fit the cast of the needy professional eye. I prefer this type of advertising push, says Everyone when looking upon those relative beauties of a job well done...

Speaking of beauties, the new bed is fantastic. It's a Grand Haven for me and my (hopefully lady) friends. There are not that many of them, but they are all welcome, and I don't mean this in a promiscuous way at all. Even if a guy can be deemed promiscuous nowadays, that certainly cannot be perceived to mean me. The only problem is that I still haven't bought that new bed, but I will.

Conclusion: This blog entry is total shite. I am suffering from the Surfer disease - I want to get into the water, but at the same time not really. Someone bitch-slap me, take away my Hennessy FDC and let's go hiking. Or canoeing. Or let's go on a train ride to nowhere in particular.

Btw, speaking of trains, here's the latest proof of the key pillar of all theories: Vsiako Zlo za Dobro (Every Evil exchanged for Good, is that the proper translation?): I got my license taken away for a couple of months. Ever since I've been driving in the daytime, but very carefully, with the seatbelt and all. After this while it seems to me that I am becoming accustomed to not making infractions which habit might stick afterwards....so that's one good thing? Another one: by not having the car on inter-city routes I got to rediscover my favorite means of transportation: The Public (train or bus). The key advantages of using the public intercity transportation are that you can sit back with a couple of beers, power up the mp3 player and watch Nature outside the window; so it's Nature, you and your thoughts (barring the unpleasant Gotse Delchev asshole with his knee in your backseat). The only care you have is to time the peeing series in mind of the bus stop schedule, other than that, it's a time when you can hook up with yourself and actually figure out some ideas...

ae stiga tolkoz! m-f

** kudos to blogger for the auto save of drafts - if it wasn't for this, my clumsy fingers would have lost this mona lisa of a piece forever to humanity!