A Tirade About Plastic Surgery

After some thought I've decided that I am against vanity operations, and the reason why might not be what you think.

Just now I was watching some before and after videos on Youtube. Some were about nosejobs, one was a slightly sickening celebration of beautiful people, one was dedicated solely to Mickey Rourke.

This man of amazing facial flexibility has looked like an Asian/Hispanic/Eastern European/vaguely Italian mob boss,  a grandmother, a handsome man, a war torn gladiator, Johnny Handsome, a bowl of porridge poured into a ball sack, and what Bruce Willis would look like if you folded his face seven times and let angry cats unfold it.

"My strange and multi-colored facial hair is my only constant".

Watching his video I thought "Okay, this is back when he was hired for his good looks. This part is from when his looks started to fade, but he still shouldn't have any trouble getting work. This part is post op for sure. He looks like a wedding cake three days after consumption".

As a socialist and the offspring of a parental hippie generation who didn't think they were hippies I have this knee-jerk mental reaction to plastic surgery where I just assume it will always be a disaster. Just please don't ask people like me about re-constructional surgery. We tend to fold when confronted with the dilemma of wanting to improve people's lives, and wanting everyone to remain completely natural looking.
Now girls of my particular political stance might be a little more ambivalent towards the entire situation considering that they artificially improve their looks with make-up every day and thus understand the issue a little better.
(Holy monkey I can rant. Maybe I should go for a career as an angry ranting comedian).

Here comes the part that challenges my view a little bit: After his mangled face traumatizes my screen, his next face pops up, and it looks absolutely amazing!
He got the terror removed from his face, kept the improvements, and restored the originally awesome parts back to their originally awesome state.
This is the part where a die hard believer would say "He still shouldn't have done it. He should just have kept his natural looks", but it's also the part where I, and other people who fear they may have been wrong all these years, say "Huh. That actually looks really great, and there's massive pressure on this man to look good. So maybe it's not all bad."

Jack White is cool, and I needed something to break this wall of text.

However: After the good picture rolled up, another one was right around the corner, and yet again he looked like that really creepy cougar imitating lady. I don't know if the surgery went bad, if he wanted it that way, or just what the hell happened.
He went sort of back and forth for a while, until he couldn't really be repaired, and I don't think anyone really knows what he would look like today without all the surgery. It's a shame really, but at the same time it really, really, really, really made him a perfect choice for The Wrestler.

You want a botox freak with huge muscles, a worn out voice and expired plastic surgery? That's me man.

Like so many vanity surgery posts this seems to have turned out to be a Mickey Rourke post. I could go with Michael Jackson, but come on. He has already been pushed to death, and I don't want to kick a lego-man when he's down.

I looked at some other videos too, and most of them seemed to have one major theme, besides plastic surgery, namely nose-jobs.
Celebrities, actors, people who want to be celebrities, and people who used to be celebrities all seem to have one need in common: Smaller noses.
Some just want the wings clipped a little. Some want to get rid of that bump, some want a smaller bridge, some want their nose to point in another direction, and some just want their entire breathing/temperature stabilizing facial device, (look it up), to be smaller.
Some times small changes made a lot of difference. One guy looked like a clown in the before shot, and the suave, evil twin of James Bond in the after shot, and all he did was make small parts of his nose a little thinner.

"I'm 650$ away from seducing my way into the movie industry"

On the other hand we have Megan Fox, who got praised for her down-to-earth great looks and decided, perhaps out of spite, to grind her face into a disgusting paste and have a surgeon smear it back on her skull.

"Hey Megan, it's Michael. Listen, would you be interested in being the co-star of 'Transformers: Everything ends for seriously this time, I swear. And explosions'. I really need you for this one".

Was that too harsh? Whatever, it's fun.

Back to the issue at hand.
Plastic surgery can go really well, and it can go horrible wrong, like most surgeries really. The thing is that even if the surgery goes perfectly, and the person now has everything they ever wanted in regards to looks. They still often come back to screw everything up.
Nothing is ever perfect. That's a good mentality to have, and accepting that fact might have prevented some of these disasters.
There's always going to be some things you want to tweak, twist and tamper with to improve your looks just a little bit, and as anyone who's used to improving pictures in Photoshop will tell you: It's incredibly easy to go way too far and then go a little further because you wrongly believe you haven't gone far enough.

This is what uncle Danny's vacation photos look like if he loses his reference point. Seriously, over-editing is a very easy mistake to make, even for professionals.

Reason one why I am generally against vanity surgery: It creates a very unrealistic standard, and I don't believe we would see the same flaws in our looks if plastic surgery didn't make it possible to fix those perceived flaws. It "fixes" a problem it helped create.

Reason two why I am generally against vanity surgery: It means that my kind and I have to try a lot harder to stand out in awesomeness.
In the near future, plastic surgery is cheap, perfect, and available to everyone, yet I have a bumpy, sort of long, bulbous, freckled asymmetric nose. I have huge joints on my hands, I have cheeks that makes those annoying folds around my mouth, I have toes that look like fingers, I have a strange face that looks fat from one angle and skinny from a slightly different angle.
Now not only will I have to look like this in a world where super-models are mistaken for their assistants, I will also have to justify why the hell I look this way when I can easily become the übermench in no more than 30 minutes.

Rich Hall declares this block of text too long! After this you should check him out on Youtube.

What do I say then? "I think surgically altering your looks makes people unhappy", but no, because it's the norm these days, and it's very safe too! You'll still be the same, but better looking. Okay then, what about "If I go under the knife people won't know truly know me, but befriend me based on how I look", but won't I still be me? Friends aren't family, you can just ignore the ones you don't like.
I honestly can't find any reason why I would not go under the knife, except that I don't want to.
"AHA!" My stupid mind thinks "That's reason enough. Good for you. Being an individual and all that!", except that it might not be enough at all.
It certainly isn't a good enough to go under the knife now, so why would it be good enough when the operating tables are turned?

If you didn't bother reading the last part I don't blame you. Short version is: I don't want to deal with everyone looking better than me all the time. I'm beautiful by comparison, and the ones that beat me I talk shit about, and I don't want that to change.

Born to be a bum

Not a proper bum freezing outside with ancient jackets on. More like The Dude really.

Money makes the world go to shit, and if you don't want any part in it you can either work hard every single day of your life to stay clear of the systematized slavery, or you can resign as a human and quietly resent the machine you now oil with your blood sweat and tears.
If you fit in with the cogs you're a lucky creature, and that's awesome for you. If you don't fit in, but fit on top of the system then I guess that's awesome for you too isn't it?

What are you so happy about? Asshole

If you don't fit in with the system you so despise, but depend on it, then that fucking sucks. Have fun trying to find motivations when all you want is just one more day in your life when you're not fucking tired. Come join the last living souls with nowhere else to go, let's meet for some coffee. You're buying, I don't have any money. I'll get us some alcohol later.

Project Beard is going strong

Days have slipped past me due to the lovely summer vacation and the loss of a strangely habit-forming laptop, but I'm back and will try to be more regular from now on.
I was supposed to update with pictures every single day after all.

Without further ado I present day 3 of Project Beard:

Stubble has been discovered, strong enough to make noise.

Included my upper lip this time as it grows face-pubes just as much as my chin.
When this project is over I will make a nice little compilation marking every picture by date. Look forward to it AND FEED ME YOUR LOVE!
Seriously, it doesn't feel too good to not have a single comment and have about 2 views to something I'm sacrificing my pretty mug for.

AMC Zombies invade

http://www.sidereel.com/The_Walking_Dead

This my dears, is what the entire internet has been begging for. The pilot is 60 minutes long and the episodes are 44 minutes long. Every single one I have seen so far has been beautiful enough to develop a zombie fetish.

You didn't think that was a joke did you?

This gif btw is from another good show called Bob's Burgers. I'll leave some scrolling room now because that gif is making you dizzy.

Feel better yet?

It's another show on AMC that shows really good quality from a surprising place, but The Walking Dead has a little more background music than Mad Men, and the volume is more standardized, so they might not win as many awards. (Oscar recipe coming in a later post).
The Walking Dead is yet another zombie thing that refuses to call them zombies, but who cares really? There are some spaghetti sounds that leaves you thinking sound editors know nothing of human anatomy, but it's not as prominent as in most horror movies.
To top everything off they, from time to time, use music from, or inspired by, the greatest composer I have ever heard: John Murphy.
I don't want to give anything away, but it's a good show, and you should watch it. And if you have kids they should watch with you. Anything to prepare them for what we all know is coming.

No Mr. Stark, not winter. I'm talking about zombies!

Game of Thrones is also excellent television.

I'm a well of fantastic entertainment, why am I not being used to my full potential?

The few people have spoken

First I would like to apologize for my absence. I was mourning the loss of a computer that was not mine. It was that machine I used to blog, check comments, check statistics, chat on msn, some multi tasking stuff and it served me Simpsons when my computer died for the day. It's back at the school now. Where it belongs I suppose.

I will never forget you lappy. You kept me entertained on the toilet.

On a lighter note: The people have voted, and I have counted the votes three times! The results are in: BEARD POWER!!
Pretty much every day I will take another picture like this one and post on this blog so you can see my progress from freshly shaved to fuzzy fellow.

Wow. My skin is not very clean is it?

As you can see my chin is freshly shaved and moisturized, and I do not have herpes. I'll tag them all with project beard so they'll be easier to find and compare. Maybe I'll even make an album somewhere

My Myspace Nightmare

I was googling around for something, got got sent to a myspace forum, and wanted to reply. That meant I would have to be a member of Myspace, something I have avoided my entire life. Considering the other things I've taken part in for this blog, and how easy it was, I decided that having Mostaza Algernon plastered one more place on the internet couldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, if you google me you will find mustard, my blog and pictures I've used, my friends on facebook, and blogs I've commented on.

It's not random. Mostaza means mustard.

There was a little button on Myspace that looked like admitting defeat. It was a "Connect with Facebook" button. I clicked it and was thrown to another button with some words on it that meant absolutely nothing, which I also clicked.
Without really doing anything I am now following 38... things. Most of it sucks, some of it is okay, and the rest has no connection to me in any way.
In my suddenly booming friends list I had bands like U2, Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson. Now Michael Jackson isn't bad if you get a fan to show you some of his work, but the other two...

"Welcome to Myspace. You like The Jonas Brothers, and they are your friends".

I pressed the little x's that don't appear until you hover over them in an attempt to undo the damages done by some malicious robot overlord, but all it did was remove it from my sight for a moment.
Growing more anxious by the minute I clicked everything in my sight that looked like it might contain an "I DON'T WANT ANY OF THIS CRAP!!!!" button, yet I still loved Bono and all his pretentious/horrible friends. I clicked my "friends" names, and clicked the frind button working by the old logic that clicking the same thing twice will undo the carnage. It did not. In fact I had now sent a friend request to The Jonas Brothers, who were already my friends AND something I followed.

"Leave? I'm afraid I can't let you do that friend"

Finally I found the real friend list and managed to understand at least a fraction of what I saw. I deleted all my friends, and then I had to delete all my online friends. I had managed to get the number of crap I followed down to a, somehow, more terrifying 37 things that mostly suck.
A thought occurred to me: "What if Myspace has become such a horribly outdated dial-up monster that it won't let me leave? Just like old people you don't visit!"

"If we snapped Bobby's neck he wouldn't leave, then we could freeze him and eat bob-sicles"

Tom and his scheming robot overlord Myspace had started to get to me. When I shut my eyes all I could see was bands trying to get people, who don't pay attention any more, excited about nothing.
Myspace even has a little blog thing, so I thought I would try to post in the forum (which is what I came for), and maybe pull some more traffic.

Future readers of my blog. Whether they want to or not.

A message written in non-threatening, almost pleading, grey popped up on the grey background and informed me: You can not post in the forums until you've been a member for seven days.
fear became hate as I bravely looked around for a "delete account" button. If I found it on Facebook I'll find it on Myspace! Myspace-tron-Overlord-11000 gave way to my pounding of clicks and slowly revealed my goal. In a climatic underdog scenario I finally enjoyed my uncovered treasure. "CLICK" said the mouse and "we have sent you an email. Please stay with us. Follow the instructions to delete your account".
I followed the link provided and had to give them my email, for some reason, before Myspace finally submitted and said the words I had been longing to hear for so long. "Your account has been suspended and will be deleted in 48 hours. We're sorry to lose you, but hope you will have fun. You will be taken to the main page in 10 seconds".

Yes I am.

Rot in hell you putrid outdated social network!

South Park: A tale of love gone cold

If you haven't seen the newest South Park episode, but plan on it, I would advice you not to continue further as I will discuss some of it in this post.

I remember saying, at the end of season 14, "South Park is dead, and I think that's probably a good thing". They lost their energy a long time ago (Matt and Trey are about 40 years old at the time), they changed to voices and animation to something prettier and friendlier, they started doing some of the biggest mistakes The Simpsons insist on doing time and time again, and the passion for the work is nowhere to be found.

Every script for The Simpsons seasons 19-22.

In the latest episode I thought they had found a new balance between developing the show and the characters further, and finding the way back to their roots, but then the ending came...
This is where the spoiling happens.
Stans parents brake up, they move, his friend don't like him any more because he grew up to be a cynical asshole and, I'm absolutely sure, future blogger, the plot they were developing seemed to simply be washed away as they had to make room for what they really wanted to say. "South Park is shit now".

"No time to write comedy, we'll just borrow a script from The Simpsons and make it gross"

This article seems to say there's one season left in the show after they take a break. It also says how they view South Park as a job they have to do and absolutely hate. Personally I hope they make a couple of more episodes to properly end everything properly like so few shows do.
Scrubs used to be great. One of the few non-cynical comedies I could enjoy. Then the quality started to dip a bit to a point where episodes melted together, but then the finally came, tied all the ends together, and I was happy. Not happy because I had one less show to watch, but because they managed to actually end the show instead of stopping mid episode with a hastily written "the end" sign like so many do.

I blame the beard.

That's also one reason why I really really love HBO series. They end properly.
South Park deserves a good death. Its life towards the end might have been painful and forced, but with the past in mind they should get an ending similar in quality to Six Feet Under.

This handsome man alone evoked so incredibly many emotions.

South park has successfully filled the roles as a pleaser, teaser, shocker, and show stopper for many years. For that they deserve a sending off we will never forget, and the post South Park void must remain untouched for years until we rediscover it one late night browsing actors on IMdb.com and read with gleeful nostalgia into the grey hours of the morning.

Relive the good times as we lay four boys and one fucked up town to rest.

The importance of voting on trivial matters

As of this moment there are three days left of the face fuzz vote. As of this moments there are three votes regarding the face fuzz. All the votes go to beard power, but two of the comments are strictly pro baby smooth.
One of those votes are mine on behalf of Michael Arsenault, who has a lovely blog right here, and one is from a friend of mine.
I read the few comments I get, but in the end what will determine the amount of caterpillar on my lip and chin is the poll right there on the top right corner.

All opinions matter, and will be regarded, IF you vote.

Exploring the stubble

I was shaving earlier today, when I engineered an ingenious plan for a blog project that would span over a month.
The thing is: I'm twenty years old, and have about five black hairs on my chin, which is probably average and rather displeasing. The problem isn't really facial hair growth, as my fuzz is strong enough to make a woman itch, but rather colour. It is all oh so very light and non-manly. So, bravely sacrificing my beautiful face, I want to let my chin warmer grow free. With any luck it will take flight and I will become a dashing Robin Hood waving my chestnut whiskers in the wind.

If princess Loretta can have a beard I should have no problem.

Being a considerate and strikingly handsome guy I decided it would be nice to put this to a vote and let the people who don't care about, or even know, me dictate my face. There should be a poll around here somewhere. If you can find it and possess the skills to operate a computer mouse I want YOU to vote. Shall the razor rest for a month? The results will be posted and I will obey your wish on the 15th of June.

He's angry because you haven't voted yet.

The Meaning of Life

Are you happier now
that the gods are dying?
Great lyrics from a great song by the great band Franz Ferdinand.
It got me thinking about happiness in general. The price we pay for it, the importance of it, and how to get it.

X marks the good life.

Now I have my mental problems and my temporary cures, and most of my friends are similar, but it took 19-20 years for me to begin actively seeking this pleasure people often take for granted. You might think being yourself is the key to lasting smiles, but that may not always be true. I know who I am, and I’m mostly a loner, I’m quiet, I’m analytical and thinking, I’m a bit nuts in the holy-shit-I’m-going-to-die-some-day-that’s-hilarious kind of way, I’m angry, I loathe the dimwitted, I love metal and things that display utter insanity in a way I find fitting, I’m judgemental, I’m slightly racist, I’m as two-faced as I have to be to observe everyone or remain in favour with those around me, and I’m intelligent. I am mostly a good guy and I have my morals though.
To be honest none of those things really make me happy.

"I smile only to torment you. Inside I'm crying."

Until a year back I was sure the meaning of life was to be, to observe, to learn and experience, and that sounds ideological and naïve. For some time I became sure there was absolutely no meaning, and to look for one meant admitting a higher power. Now I think: Of course life has a meaning, or else I wouldn’t bother, and it’s to be happy and enjoy while you still can.

I’m getting closer and closer to my own personal happy recipe. I need sleep, not always easy. I need to avoid the news and most politics, very doable, but not to an extreme degree. I need to enjoy the moment, which I’m good at, and most important of all: I must at all cost maintain my screw it/them mentality. Not caring is essential to happiness.

A swim is fine too.

I'm also expanding my horizon when it comes to entertainment. Instead of dissecting everything placed in front of me I just shut up for a few minutes and see what happens. Most of the time when I just stop thinking so much I can enjoy things. This has opened me up to the Blood album by Franz Ferdinand, Pendulum, Julien K, possibly Skrillex and other things I would simply scoff at as I turned up the volume on Tools Aenema.

On my road to happiness, this is like a tree in Pokémon.

Does this mean I've outgrown metal, brains and hate? Absolutely not! This just means I'll dose my hatred a little more carefully, taking my well being in consideration first.

Summer

Summer is finally arriving in the popsicle nation. Not because we're famous for popsicles, but because our country looks like one and feels like one far too many months in the year. It also looks like a mitten and a guitar post concert smash.

We also keep Sweden/Finland from looking like a dick

Running in the rain will now be less like a thousand frozen shards stabbing you in unity, and more like a slightly warm, liquid massage. Shoes are optional, children are bruised, windows are open through the night, bees punish your lack of shoes, children get sick of it and play COD instead, you fall in love with your old reflective sunglasses and loads of delicious body parts are exposed.
Not in a creepy way, I swear!

When you go both ways it's twice as good!

Summer really is my favourite time of the year, and I have seasonal affected depression too, so summer and spring are the only months I'm close to mentally stable.

Yes, you read the caption correctly, I am bisexual. So while you sad sacks are stuck trying to look past all the other guys trying to look at the hot chicks, I'll just let my gaze linger on whatever looks good.
I'm a bit sick of ladies and lady parts at the moment, so hopefully I'll find some beautiful men to keep me company. Maybe I'll even find love and my first boyfriend.

Honey, it's ALL good

Wish me luck readers, however small your numbers may be.

The Ruthless march of Progress

When I was a kid there were 151 Pokémon, and the only way to get all of them was if your friends all bought different Pokémon games and you all tediously swapped monsters with a cable from one gameboy to the other.
Then came the Gameboy Advance and I bought it with a friend of mine. We swapped it every two weeks and whoever was going on vacation would get it. We were very happy with that, and still played Pokémon even though it was getting old.

This is to me what black and white TV is to my grandparents.

When Pokémon gold and silver came out we didn't bother. We already had Red, and a friend had Yellow, so that was fine. Then when the Nintende DS, or whatever that first weird one was named, came out we didn't really speak any more, and I, at least, thought it would be ridiculous to buy a clunkier Gameboy with a smaller screen, so I stuck with the Advance.
That's about the point where I stopped upgrading unless I really wanted to.

Not upgrading saved my life more than once...

I still use my, has it really been so long, six year old iPod Nano, and I'm currently looking for a phone that resembles my old one. That old thing lasted at years and only broke because it can't really handle being used like you're supposed to for very long. I do not want a smart phone, I do not want anything with a touch screen. You know how the image on old TVs some times jumped around? That's how my old phone is now, and I actually preferred that to an iPhone knockoff,  and I would still use it if offered a real iPhone.

You know this keyboard is about the worst we could use, right?

Why on earth would anyone want a stupid touch keyboard with the dumbest layout in history instead of those incredibly handy little keys we used to have? Why in the holy name of gravity would I want to look at pictures and play games on my music player? Will future pants come with a milking bucket and a bookshelf?

We're being told these things are steps taken forwards, but when phones are designed for games, cameras, social networking and shiny, instead of reception and typing, what kind of progress is it really?
If you upgrade your phone you should get something that functions better as a phone, not something with 20gb instead of 12gb

Cigarettes

I don't think I have ever been addicted to nicotine despite being a smoker for almost two years, loving the cigarette very very much, and fluctuating my intake of nicotine extremely (From 3 to 20 in a day).
The first time I quit, out of money, I was so scared of the horrible cravings, the mood swings, the general discomfort of not having anything to still this need everyone said would overcome me.
But just like people about to die, I went through some stages of grief and accepted whatever would happen.

1. I just need to move some money around
2. If only I didn't give those idiots anything!
3. Maybe I can borrow some, or steal, beg?
4. Ugh, this is going to be hell. I suck
5. This is going to happen, so I'll take it like a man.

Nothing happened.
Sure I ate gum most of the day, like I often do when I have gum. Sure I ate more, because I was bored though, and you better know I could smell a smoker and pick out their brand from a block away. but it went fine. No real trouble at all.
Then there were some parties, and I'm not one to throw away or save party smokes, so I smoke them too. Then came three weeks of parties, so I smoked that entire time, because this is a once in a lifetime party progress, and I wanted full enjoyment. Now I'm done with my exams so I don't need something to calm me down on command, and I'm out of money again, so no smokes.

Nicotine isn't addictive after all. Finally I can smoke all I want without worrying about getting hooked.

For two days I even forgot I ever smoked! Two days is the time it takes the nicotine stuff to leave your body, so I just plain spaced the entire withdrawal period.

I'm not trying to say cigarettes are magnificent life enhancers that are basically harmless fun, though the controversy might give me more views...

I can quit without much trouble, many others can do the same, I loved the smell and taste of cigarettes the very first time, and I can relax  perfectly fine with or without cigarettes. So many myths.



If there's anything anyone wants me to write about just comment, and I'll see what I can do

Mornings

The worst way in the world to wake up is suddenly. Instead of gently becoming more awake as the daylight seeps in and you get all the sleep you need, you're jerked out of your peaceful slumber into a world of pain.
The human body was not made to wake up this way, and it wasn't made to sleep this way either. We're supposed to sleep two, maybe three times each day.

This is better than eight hours of sleep in the night.

Why are we still fighting human nature instead of incorporating a ninety minute nap in the middle of the day?
Not masturbating causes hysteria, not sleeping right causes us to be less alert and effective as human beings, eating stupidly sends us into a never ending spiral of doom. Could we stop trying to combat nature and instead just make friends with it and try living according to its rules?

Hardcore pun stars

Reality TV is a horrible thing in principle. It's also the biggest, most popular, strangest thing on television at the moment.
The budget for a reality show is basically the same as Blair Witch project. Instead of launching something if they think it's possible to make money off it, they now launch everything, and make another season if they earn enough off of it! Every TV executive loves reality, because it's close to impossible to lose any money on it at all.

Men Who Stare at Paint. Four seasons and running

It's also expanding really really fast, so what they started doing is they find some manly job, and then film people doing it. We have some lumberjack shit, at least TWO shows about pawn shops (Both with the same pun...), several cop things (Coming up: Papercop, the paperwork that puts the criminals: Behind bars. Another show, coming up after this one), and of course the tons of "romance" shows.
There's a plethora of "reality" on TV, and that's a bad thing in every way.

 

Yes. This actually exists

Flavor Flave fell in love with Brigitte Nielsen on The Surreal Life. They got a show together called Strange Love, after that he got a show called Flavor of Love, which went on for three seasons. One of the contestants got a show called I love New York (She's New York somehow) and another contestant got a show called I Love Money, this time it's about money and not love though.

If you're still on the fence regarding reality TV, thinking humanity can be saved, just follow this little link and let the words rip your soul out.

If you still haven't figured out how reality TV works, here's a visual aid.

The Bachelor

Now if you'll excuse me I'll go watch the rest of Water Cops Taking 30 Second Showers now.

Post party chill

What was supposed to be a movie with some drinks turned into two movies and a lot of drinks. Which is actually awesome.
Two people taking the last bus home became two people eating burger and saying, food in mouth, "screw it! I'm staying here tonight!". Which was actually my secret plan all along. My culinary treats, tons of beds, funny dumb cats, encouraging words to drink, and the scary movie keeps guests in my California hotel.

Now there are two things that makes drinking a really attractive concept to me.
I get to turn off most bad parts of my brain, so most of what's left is just creativity, a love of people (I mostly hate people in general), and the ability to just purely enjoy more things.
The other thing is that I just calm down completely and don't have to... anything!
There's nothing in the bottom of a glass for me but mental freedom

Esteemed readers

Ladies and gentlemen of blog. It is time. It is time to party. Sort of.
Movies with some drinks, then maybe we'll get lucky f the polish dude brings some strong stuff and we'll all be completely trashed.

Any good suggestions for movies?

League of Legends

If you haven't heard of it: It's a pretty popular real time strategy role playing action game. All these names for it are really necessary to properly explain how it works. 

Basically. You're in a team of 5 or 3, depending on what map you chose to fight on. You control one of the people, called champions, and your goal is to murder everyone and destroy their base. You do this by killing minor creatures who span indefinitely, minions, and growing in power. Every one in a while a team fight will break out, and you have to fit the specific role of the champion you chose. Some of you might already be familiar with the roles described, but some will not understand a single thing.

There's tank. Something many know, or can guess, what means. It's a guy who's main purpose is to initiate team fights and keep everyone else safe whilst taking the enemies brunt force. 

This ninja is for some reason a tank, and a very good one too.

There's support. Still maybe familiar, and rather obvious. The supports purpose is to improve your allies, hinder the enemy, and keep your team mates even safer. A team should preferably have both a tank and a support.

This stylin'  watchman right here is a good support. He can actually make you survive death

Jungler. This needs some explaining. There are three lanes on the map where jungling is viable. Often there will be 2 players from each team top, 1 in the middle, and 2 more at the bottom. The jungler does not stay in lane, but kills creatures out in the woods instead. This gives you 2 lanes where the players get more experience, more gold, and might get hit more by the other players. The jungler should at most times have both buffs from the jungle. One that replenishes your mana incredibly fast, and one that applies a slow when you hit someone, and does damage. The jungler also gets the task of jumping in on lanes to help kill the other guys, and some times take over a lane if your friend has to go back to replenish health, mana, or buy items. 

This handsome fellow is an excellent jungler, but underplayed. This troll needs some love.

Carry. This is a very popular choice. The carries job is to murder everyone, get as rich as possible, and not die. The carry is the one everyone helps kill anything that moves and destroy their base.

This steampunk beauty is a carry, and has the longest attack range in the game. And she looks really good too.

That's mostly the basics. If you want some more info just let me know. I've studied this game a lot, so I know a bunch of theoretical stuff.

The entire thing is absolutely free, and lives off micro transaction. Meaning that if you want a new champion, a new skin (purely look, nothing more), or some buffs that means you'll get stuff faster you can pay with money. It's not a lot, and it's completely up to you. Riot (The company behind this game, and the guys behind DOTA allstar) has a pretty strict "no power for cash" policy. Which means that the things you can get that actually gives you in game power is not for sale for cash at all! You'll have to earn it by playing games. 

If this sounds like something you'd like to try you can register using this link

If many enough people sign up with the link and get to level 5 I'm getting some nice bonuses. If an unthinkable amount of people sign up I'll get something named after me!

Have fun everyone

Chuck Norris

Is wearing a karate shirt of some sorts, some classic "indian" clothes that white people brought with them, and monologues talks very very much. And there's an annoying little Anakin with AIDS too.

This is not why I decided to turn on Walker Texas Ranger.

NO SEVENGAMES, I DO NOT WANT TO PLAY DARK ORBIT!

My mind is not always profound... or even any good at brain stuff. Apple juice good

The tale of an exam day gone wrong

I woke up today, relaxed and rested, and instantly became terrified at how relaxed and rested I felt. Normally I feel like an absolute wreck every weekday, and I had slept even less than usual last night.
I rose with a panic and lept to the nearest time telling device. With a smug look of evil satisfaction, possibly due to the abuse it has been subjected to over the years, my computer displayed the numbers 11:47. The next bus left at 11:14 and wouldn't even be in the same city as my school until at least 45 minutes after the, usually late, departure. The exam begun at 9 and ended at 14 o'clock. Completely broken in spirit I let the cats out and sat on my stairs in my boxers in 14 degrees Celsius for a cigarette I can't afford.

After a few calls I was promised to be able to take the exam, but with no extended time.
The bus closest to me would leave me less than half an hour to complete the exam, which I knew would consist of manipulating 10 pictures taken the day before somehow, which isn't nearly enough.
I thought about stealing my dads car since he was out of town and would never have caught me, but I don't have a license, and getting pulled over for some reason would kill all my chances at passing.
So I stole his bike instead and practically flew to the bus central to take another, faster, bus, which would leave me about an hour for the exam. Still not enough time to do a proper job. Still, it would have to do.
During this lung collapsing bike ride there were no Power of Love. There was no skateboarding whilst holding on to a car, no "Doc. I'm late for school!" Huey Lewis offered no help. To top it off I had strong headwind the entire way. Even when I was going in the opposite direction from earlier.

Now this bus driver was a nice guy. So he waited around in case someone was late, and he did not drive fast, and he was happy to small talk with anyone. Including some preschoolers who never stopped either crying or laughing. My iPod was left at home in the hurry. Then we changed driver to another guy just like him...

Finally I arrived at the school and could take a look at the assignment. Prepare your images for an exhibition, the frames are 30cm x 40cm. As some of you know this usually means 30cm width, 40cm height, which is how you take a portrait. Sadly, all but two of my pictures were taken like landscapes. None of the exam guys watching over us could tell me if it was possible to deliver 40cm x 30cm, so I was stuck trying to, successfully, crop 8-9 pictures into painfully unfitting dimensions, and Photoshop them all to look acceptable.

Unlike the other students who had 5 hours to complete the task, I had 54 minutes.

On the way home there were preschoolers on the bus the entire time and shortly before I got off the bus it started raining and the wind picked up even more.

Blogging

This new media of ours called blogging resembles cave paintings. Though our grammar is probably better now I think it's a bit awesome that this ultra modern phenomenon is nothing more than an extension of extremely primal needs