Posts Tagged ‘agony’

So, Dennis Hopper just died… Of cancer.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And sometimes that shit causes cancer. Tough luck.

… That’s just sad.

Oh yeah, and today’s the International Children’s Day, so… Congratulations on all the fucking kids.

Soon-to-be, YMCA-singin' Village People coverband!

Seriously. Fucking kids. Well, those babies in the picture are cute. Except for the boy dressed as a fairy. Or princess or whatever. Yeah, they are kinda cute. But those aren’t kids, those are babies. Kids I fucking hate.

You are adopted, and your mother hate you. Oh yeah, your dad's a drunk and sleeps with prostitutes. That includes your mom. Fuck you.

I fucking hate spending four fucking hours in a fucking train with 60 fucking 8th graders shouting and yelling with their fucking mouths. How the hell is it even possible to be constanlty noisy and shouty for four fucking hours straight?

So happy fucking Children’s Day. I hope you get syphilis and die, you miserable fuck.

******

Ps. That felt great getting all that shit out of my system, so here’s a drawing of a giraffe I found on google

Yay, look at me! I'm a giraffe, the tallest motherfucker on the planet, take that elephants! Look the 8 year old daughter of a prostitute that drew me can't even make it look like I'm in balance. Fuck me, I'm tipping!

 

I don’t have anything relevant nor intelligent to write about, but still I felt like I had to. So, what’s going down? Not much. I need to get myself together and call that masseuse (no, not a prostitute, if I need that I’d call Your Mother), I’ve been delaying it for about two or three weeks now, but my back is really killing me. It feels like I have two lumbs of agony pressed in between each scapula and my spine. One of each side of cause. Fucking exams. I have had them for almost 10 months now, but my economy didn’t allow me to pay for a massage, it still doesn’t, but my girlfriend gave me a gift certificate. Still, they’re a reminder, telling me to sit straight, and not bend my back when I sit in a chair reading or writing or stuff like that. That’s how I got ’em in the first place. My advice to you, dear reader (or jew) is a little something I got from this book I got called The Bible:

When you study for your exams, don’t sit in a couch bent over a small coffee table. Use a goddamn desk and a nice chair. The couch will fuck your back up. Seriously.

Okay! Motherfucking newsflash! It’s started to snow! Seriously huge motherfucking flakes of snow! Shit, last week the thermometer said 10-12 degrees! It’s supposed to be spring now, not fucking winther! I bet it’s that damn volcano, yet another side effect of the Dustpocalypse. Fucking snow!

När du studerar till din examen, inte sitta i en soffa böjd över ett litet soffbord. Använd ett jävla skrivbord och en fin stol. Soffan kommer knulla din igen. Allvarligt.

So, my wrist hurts. My wrist hurts alot and it shivers when it’s not supported by anything, like a table, and I’m perfectly fine with it! Why my wrist hurts you ask? Well, I do martial arts, self-defense, and today for the first time in a really long time, I was what we call Uke. In traditional japanese jiujitsu, Uke is the person, the rag doll, on which the sensei demonstrates the techniques.

So I was appointed Uke by one of our senseis, an old 4th dan, and through 1½ hours he mutilated my right wrist, and when he didn’t play with it, my partner did. My reaction? Awesome! My reaction when it was my turn to inflict large amounts of pain on my partner? Also awesome! To be honest I simple love to hear him scream in agony (the good kind) and tap out, and I love to be the one yelling and tapping on the mat, when it feels like my wrist or elbow is snapping, or being choked to the very edge of consciousness. That been said, I’m not looking forward to the day when something actually break or when I actually get into a real fight in a bar, but until that:

Det är själva livet som gör anspråk på oss, eftersom mänskligt liv redan nu är sådan att vi inte kan leva utan att forviklede med andra människors liv. Vi kan helt enkelt inte kan existera utan att efterfrågas, uppmuntras och utmanas att ta hand om andra.