Tag Archives: funny

What I shit, when I am bulshitting

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Broadway Market’s roaring streets sort of forgot our rustic table. The oldie now was beautified with freshly baked pizzas and house wine enough to forget its age and it all left our weird trio in a movie-like atmosphere. Perhaps it was the alcohol or exhaustion, but suddenly the overview effect overtook my neurons of perception and life as a movie reminded me about the ones on the big screen. Me, being idea hamster as I am, suddenly spat out:

-I have to admit… I am a sucker for shitty movies.

Duo nodded.

Shawshank Redemption? Thank you, but no thank you … Wait a second, before suddenly silently or out loud naming me with the synonyms of arrogance that frequently are censored in more official media platforms. The movie is beautiful: a heart-breaking plot and deep meaning, but why do I feel that something is missing? As if all of my functions turn off, with the exceptions of unpermitted emotions running wild together with my hand-popcorn-mouth combo of fattening  tradition. Sure, there’s a napkin or two covered in tears (I hate to be disgusting , but it’s actually a sleeve. As if I would waste my money on napkins) and snot, but is that enough? I become a fat  marionette on director’s vampiric strings that suck tears and money. Exaggeration? Yes… But sometimes weirdos do think like that and tumblerers in my defense claim that “weird is rad”.

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So yeah, I loooove shitty films and four incompetent “o’s” just stand here to prove the point. The bigger (longer) the better. Every weird dialogue or hilariously unrealistic effect, automates the critical machine of thinking and amuses me in similar patterns of Bakhtin’s idea of a carnival and forbidden laughter. I have to admit, I feel better about myself. Is that sad? By all means. But you know what, guys? I’d rather choose to be happy about what I have or never direct instead of crying that Brad Pit (Fight Club) does not exist or that I would never become successful (partly) like Jordan (The Wolf of Wall Street) or the fact that maybe I would never create a masterpiece as above.

I am not suggesting to think alike, for fuck’s sake, what would we do without the people who can have intellectual conversations about the costumes on Coppola’s Antoinette or similar bullshit. I bow to you sirs, but if there’s anyone who slightly agrees with me, please do not hesitate in recommending the shittiest crap you’ve ever came across, here.

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How to cheat in life?

Yo! So you know, some of us are born to suck at crafty things. Or just things that require firm instead of clumsy hands.

As you might know, I am one of the God’s unfavoured kiddos. Why? Because that’s why. (press the link, i mean it!!!)

I burn shit. And i break shit… (sounded sort of wrong). FYI:  Once i gently touched some window and not only curtains but radiator broke as well. Motherfradiator!

But back to the weird topic: I get stuff stolen from me as well, like (attention attention) in two months I lost two IDs.

I manage to buy wrong return flight tickets and realize it just before check-in. (I bought a return ticket for a month later than i should have)

Eeverything falls,breaks apart or hits me. And what do you do then?

CRY? Bitches love crying?

NO.

You cheat. You cheat your way through life:

Broke a toilet handle?

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– No problem

Council is changing windows for a block of flats:

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– Only yours is broken and construction workers noticed after already putting the frame in. No worries some bin bags for the holes will do, it’s only -7 degrees outside.

Want some hot milk?

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Having the same result twice probably means you’re too old for it.

Wanna see your favorite band?

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Some dudes in the front are pushing too hard, go home, you have to wake up early for work.

So, after all of this it should be clear that I also suck at doing my hair.

webcam-toys-photo8-Piece of advise:

Just put a hat on ffs.

p.s I wanted to go to a medical school. Imagine…

Backstage of 72 Dots Per Inch

When you go to the  galleries a lot, at some point you understand that the creative pieces might be not the ones put on the wall.

(See post about the 72 Dots Per Inch)

Cheers,

Barbie!