i like to think that is takes something special to, at 3 am, puking your guts out into a salad bowl, while simutaneously going through a nasty bout of diarrhea, covered in a cold sweat, feel a certain sense of contentment.
obviously, no post deserves that name if it lacks russian dancing and penises. and possibly gay anime things. and russian dancing penises.
the leading cause of death among kalthirs is identity crisis (followed closely by rectal prolapse). in this state the kalthir, being the most fickle of jesus' creations, suffers from not being able to be a kalthir, and is instead reduced to a baser creature, the human. it is at this point that the kalthir manages to do things like cut his nose while shaving.
all my socks have holes. either a malignant force is at work here, deliberately sabotaging my footwear accessories, or this is a natural occurrence, a hole migration, wherein untold numbers of holes are forced to abandon their habitats by harsh and uncaring seamstresses and must brave the perils of immaterialism until they find a suitably frayed piece of fabric.
after being annoyed by people complaining about stereotypes, it is now my official opinion that calling your mother your mother is a stereotype. the only thing your mother has in common with all other mothers is that she gave birth to a child. other than that, your relationship to your mother is unique (or at least, as unique as any stereotyped person, which is to say not very). the same applies to fathers, brothers/sisters, friends, boy/girlfriends, pets, probation officers and jello.
i miss my coat. i feel naked without my coat. but with nakedness being something far worse than being without clothes. being penisless, for example. i have shed my big black long seasonal penis. and the longing for summer turns into longing for winter. blah blah never content blah blah true satisfaction being the end of existence blah blah blah. i wouldn't mind a week or so of not being absolutely miserable, though.
walking down the street the other day, the mp3 player battery died on me. being the indigo child of the 21st century that i am, i could not keep my brain idle! so i started really percieving people. seeing them, thinking about what they were doing. walking home turned into an extreme human wilderness observation safari. i also realised how many advertisements there were and got really really annoyed and i'm still really mad about it every time i think about it i'm not kidding i'm grimacing and squeezing a little blue ball right now. it's a cool ball, it has a picture of a dolphin and it's all soft and stuff. also my hand keeps cramping up. i'm like *holding things* and all of a sudden the hand is like "woah, CLENCH CLENCH" and i'm like "shit, i can't move any of my fingers or my wrist" so then i have to use my other hand to pry it open. this would be amusing if it wasn't an early warning sign of demonic posession.
kratkometražni animafest je od 31.5 do nekog.6. dugometražni animafest je bio dobar, pogotovo po pitanju analnih čipova i seksualnog zlostavljanja maloljetnica, pa se svakako isplati otić pogledat i kratkometražni.
the new portishead cd is about a woman singing and cowbell and a drum techno machine. making it an ideal candidate for album of the year.