Body shop, the current set of affairs
I have been brain washing, procrastinating and managing my unmet sex drive. Yes, it’s spring.
Entries Tagged as ''
Lone stranger on a dark horse rides memory lane
I tilt my head back, look to the side, drop one drop in one eye, drop another drop in the other eye, go high, less oxygen in my brain. Mmm, see why conjunctivitis is left on earth? First Naaxia. Fifteen minutes later Maxidex. The later sounds like a dictionary. The first like a promised land. The truth is neither and I have to carry them little bottles around in a plastic bag for fear of missing my treatment schedule.
The wind is blowing furiously. I am somehow under the impression my balcony is going to fall out.
Paid my due taxes yesterday. There was this lady, old, freshly out of the moth-balls, not too many teeth left, those still around brown with decay. There was a mix about her, sadness, inability to understand her money is out of use since twenty years ago or more, kept on going about her problem and the clerk obviously was interested not in the least, a bit of frustrated anger, a bit of decrepitude with age. I paid her telephone bill and didn’t feel any better afterwards.
There was a sun eclipse yesterday, Bucharest in a sort of darkness, it looked like a cloudy day. I remember abandoning my tent at the seaside just to come in Bucharest to see my then love and the last eclipse of the last century. Gone are the days. And I am cured of stupidity, mainly. At least that is what I think now. Who knows?
The curse of the white pants
or My amazing carwise adventures in Bucharest, a city of Europe
I woke up unsuspecting. What can a Monday hold in store that one is not prepared to deal with now that one is over thirty?
Wrong question. If I wanted to give a title to this Monday, it should’ve been… oh, well, nevermind, it is a lie anyway, I have already given a title to this post, and this is not it.
Back at the ranch, I woke up and put on my white pants. I really had no idea where the day was going. I only knew there was a lot in store for me at work, but I really had no idea how to start. “Learning by doing”, I said to myself and added:”We’ll see when we start.”
But the air was filled with the threat of the white pants. Whenever I wear those it’s either raining, or something bad happens. This Monday was a fine spring day.
Once next to my car, I checked my tires, something I rarely do. It was definitely that noise, driving back last night, that made me do this, and I was right. We had a winner. The flat tire was mocking me like the grin of seventy year old who’s been lucky playing a poker hand. Anyway, I will spare you the details of my Golgotha. In my case it was not the cross up the mountain, but the tires down the stairs. However if you find yourself in need of a screw or a nail I can offer my help. I now can really say I have been screwed and nailed. My flat tire was caused by a screw. I replaced that one with the spare, only to find that the spare collected a nail. Four hours and one hundred dollars later, I was ready for my interview in the studios of the national radio. Previously, I have been arranging BBC interviews from the mechanic’s shop. I am that good, and even the white pants can’t tamper with that.
…and spring again
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. This shortest day was by far one of the most peaceful in a long while. I didn’t get the movie though. Not all I should’ve got.
It’s warm, it’s cold
Spring in the rye
Last night’s (23 March 2006, nice colours, terrible connection?)
I am not going to rewrite that post
21 March 2006 wiseass entry
It’s not to the nines.
20 March 2006, optics back in time
Glasses can correct the sight, not the history.
Movies about love
“Whether Grace left
Dogville, or on the contrary Dogville had left her - and the world in general - is a question of a more artful nature that few would benefit from by asking, and even fewer by providing an answer. And nor indeed will it be answered here.”
I have also seen a first part from
Thomas est amoureux.
The story of the day
There was a man in the middle of the road just talking casually with his neighbours. The man was sporting a bucket full of sand. In the middle of traffic. Then he just scratched my car door with his sand bucket. A lot of honking, shouting and swearing followed. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if by the end of this year there is enough left of my car to enter the most scratched car competition.
-
(C)
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License. -
Copyright © 2007 T0p D0g Reloaded. Darkwater Theme by Antbag.