Val

One have the has used tos' that be step upative happens, lately just forsakes of coherency will watch a show-show, hear a dub-dub, wear underpants-under-pants, the get a beaten a' choken ,enough ,while punches shared scourge trough own amplifier netting ,to cast away.

Slack another day.

Val

Do The Whirlwind is a mix of an old school platformer and rhythm game. Blame it on global warming. Ice caps melt as planet cooks. Clementine's village on Kiribati is in danger of sinking. She must dance her way to distant corners of the globe to appease the Ancient Deities and unlock the recipes to sacred cocktails. With plenty of colorful booze in their hands Mighty Gods will need ice and had to refroze the Planet.

Windows XP/Vista

Val

Val

Storytelling aside , a game ,possbily a nintendo DS exclusive, midnight-a noon in production by an army o' two(where is Romanova to callobrate?), skinny; mama cooks space cookies.

Made this collage as a wallpaper when cleaned up desktop, old one was rectangularly rough edged candy.

iGoogle Theme

Val

“For years, Russian scientists harvested the brains of exceptionally smart people, trying to locate the source of their intelligence. After V.I. Lenin died in 1924, for example, the Russians invited the great German neuroanatomist Oskar Vogt to try to locate the “source of genius” in the leader of the Russian revolution. Vogt cut Lenin’s brain into more than 1,100 slices, but he found nothing exceptional except unusually large pyramidal cells.

The last brain that the Russians studied in this way was that of Andrei Sakharov, the nuclear physicist and human rights activist who died in 1989. From the dozens of brains they studied, the researchers made many observations about brain size, the density of neurons and the number of convolutions of the cortex, but their findings revealed next to nothing about human intelligence.

Today, scientists around the world continue to search for the physiological basis of human intelligence, but they also focus on genetic variation, which appears to determine about half of a brain’s cognitive ability on average, as measured by standard IQ tests. And by using modern scanning techniques, they are gaining much more detailed insights into the structure and function of the brain than the Russians could achieve through dissection.”

(via The Dana Foundation)

My sillyrative guess is maybe the smart is in the spine , or wherever serotonin resides, serotonin is believed to play an important role as a neurotransmitter, in the modulation of anger, aggression, body temperature, mood, sleep, sexuality, and appetite as well as stimulating vomiting.

“Low levels of serotonin may also be associated with intense religious experiences” which means Lenin must have had too much o’ it. claiming that religious is drug for those not satisfied from nature

Val

Radio Free Cardiac Arrest
Wifi ain’t free surfing of web on the budget of neighbors , not even it’s the increased radiation in schools , it’s unbelievably dangerous warfare.

Yesterday evening when i get out to meet a female friend ,eat pizza ,i run into a neighbor of mine who lives door across, he’s on his way home, asks me "how is it going?", how come i am out before the big macabi game begins.

I told him that last game everybody fell alseep after they interrupted it till end with newscast of the killing of Yeshiva yamenka wearing student fellas in jerusalem.

He tells me he watched the game at work , i ask where is it , he sais tech support of big isp ,then offbeat he turned to ask me had i a router at home explaining how he was having fun with neighbors internet connections

@home for he has found some open ones’ unsecure and even told me names of such, i told him that indeed i have one and that i’ve already found these names while i was trying to get online with my Nintendo DS, not being able to log into these i had to configure my router for wifi for i have found none working.

When we meet at the pizzeria eventualy i tell about this meeting and she asks "isn’t Wifi dangerous" , "Like radioactive?" i answer with "probably less than a cellphone" and we move on.

Today Stane sends me an article from WIRED , there mentioned experimentation on a pace maker, not inside of somebody off-course, there they discover the ease of causing death login into one trough WiFi for it isn’t , the pacemaker, securely encrypted.

It lacks a password for emergency handling, but even with a password , in a matter of week, the heartill owners of the pacemakers in the building are kaput if you run brute-force password generator.

Altought , they say it requires proximity , some even needle access (old generation), with a strong enough amp or in the elevator with custom software on your NDS cartidge at hand; there will be no neighbor.

New generation of cyberpunk arises, hacking into people’s organs ,cerebral implants for epileptic seasures self-hacked to get high(Stane’s idea).

Put your ds into friend-hunt mode that collects friends when you passby to knock out random stroke victims.
maybe have i told my pizza eating partner that at time i would have got layed.

It’s also an opertunity to quote an ex-nintendo’s ceo "Sony can suck on my tiny yellow balding left ball" replace sony with heart-ill people.



Fear and loathing in green onion oasis
Poorim , our jewish haloween is nearly here , the traditional bomb packs appear months earlier, when the going gets weird the weird gets going.

Jumps your heart to the jaw , we need drugs to tranqualise dogs trusty sources indicate.

The toy pack of bombs are outlawed since the 60s , today they’re more easy to get than some drugs outlawed only years ago in the bombs (kiosks called bombs here), bombs smaller more dangerous than the big bombs selling drugs , maybe drugs will calm us as well as dogs , or is it that everybody are already on drugs for the cops don’t stop even the frequency of the explotions.

heared them birds do nokia before our local provider orange did a comercial on how birds sing melodies of phones at dawn, how will they react to a megaton Decibeles of that.

Ruining atomsphere , getting animals off rails , confused dogs , birds , criped deaphened bats...

Now birds aren’t nice even, squeen like pigs , no song in them trying outscream the comotion, maybe it’s me for I am the ruler of the world , maybe some placebo effect for i’ve been tought about our co-relations in school , mobiles , horns , ka-boom’s , they’re harry rebel.

I am out of zee force , i’de snap to one of the sons of bitches had they no backup(tm), maybe i snap one , his uncle comes and i buy drugs from him.

it’ll end in tears

Val

"where did you get your boobs done?"
"God"
"you mean that place?"

I drank like eight beers , two energy drinks , two vodkas n’ one vodka redbullsky in that cow gig , industry zone , paradise in midst o’ it , ate a kilo o’ sushi n’ egrolls for certain .. all was free
that gig we were at the place cow works - while we were leaving , some kid , only kid in the whole gig, around 13 years old , they say he used to be fat , he’s son of the owner n’ eats there everyday alot , so , he was trying sandbaggin’ one of the friends and later on when we were leaving he grabbed a knife and tried to stab cow , it was a cake knife , anyway , the reason for this might be that some girl a friend of a girl that went to elementary school with me even , tried to pour water on her for she got drunk , but the owner gave her accidently sugar water for he doesn’t know what’s going in the bar .. so cow was laughin n’ the kid tought it was disrespect o’ his father , we told him we’de shove that knife up his ass n’ lock him in the bathroom n’ that his father was too drunk to find him anyware or care.

later that night on a bed i remember was making out with two teen girls in the elevator  i don’t have, I only have an elevator screen in near my aprtmnt, telling them how it’s illegal n’ how i know somebody for 9 years in jail for that (intercourse with minors).. anyway they even threw me money when they left which fell trough door o’ elevator space.
one droped 50shekels i remember the other dropped ten bills o’ 20..

but i knew the guy who owned the floor beneath where falled fistfull o’ kopeiki collected , i went to that store and he was asleep tought i’de rub the place so i won’t go down he said "there are still music cds upfloor" , i told him my fathers name , this was the guy who was partner with my father while he had a music store while my papa had a computer store n’ anyway we went downstairs to garden where was a granny collection , we cleaned them up n’ found money from both the girls ...

we watch a movie with plenty of folks somewhere deep inside the jail city Jaffa and the subtitles goe "There are children around so you can’t wet my pee-pee"... and the way home is nowhere to be seen , at least i found stolen cellphones , a policeofficer who would let me cross a ten cm height wall and children from the market ghetto who were playing fishing each other in a field.

what’s the hype around iphone?
did ya hold it in yar hands?
the boobs?
in one hand?
or like one boob for lowbudget?

What a shame ,distopia , altough the new Sam & Max from telltale games , Season one is wonderfully crack-h-ilarious.. played through Abe lincoln must die and half through culture shock so far. it lacks in enginetitude , i mean so unoptimsed , works perfect and seamless on my old p4 but until few areas are loaded and then they advise to reload the game for they don’t know how to unload unnesserities from the memory , haven’t seen such a memory leak since my grandma escaped hospital claiming she didn’t.

Won’t bare to play it anymore here , maybe the alien technology in the other room will not bring any stutter whatsoever.

"loading times were so long that i decided to crave , i mean carve , with a screwdriver , words into the texture o’ this desk"

"which words might that be?"

"Fistfull of Kopeikas."

you can train dogs to attack bearded men , my patched up shirt is a reminder for that and the beard. how respectfully beardless i am.

All those trucks outside all the time sound like Erasorhead industrial soundtrack...
who could’ve guessed ,a bucketfull o’ babies from erasorhead

..

Val

Last monday "Welcome to the jail outside Snake Plissken" me greet bugsy as he leaves walls o' laws, that same day we were playing mime movie Trivia and i was trying to catch sleep trough that long day o' Pigiestival... Tonight we watched There Will Be Blood , It'll rock your world and kick your ass.

Co-writer of our -=when it's finished=- book ,Stanislav Stankovic' (his site might be under attack by russian bots that think he's a spy and try to eliminate him at the very moment) , brings us All the things you might wanna know about, that lil special corner o' the world, Serbija, in one neat easy to use package. Just pull the string.

No releasing from Emperial forces o' laptops nor Nikes here, neither they burn embassies but it's even more fun.

Ko to Tamo Peva


Maratonci trce pocasni krug


Balkanski Spijun


He has also brought us an early Kusturica movie but didn't get to fix the subtitles and later on was removed from Stage6 by administration , maybe due to subtitles , maybe kusturica got onto us, this month he might fix it if we're allowed to broadcast.

If you scroll down moderatively you'll find "they were shooting my host ,dressed in black stocking wearing a sock on his head and you could see his balls trough the stocking, violently gesturing to unseen beings .."

Happened in Latvia , the outcome of this, an Anti-Booze commercial I helped to edit and provided visual effects for ,Also happens to be I napped nearby most of where production took place, good times rolled, they even named it Bak-Book to honour me as their guest, Gatis Kleinberg wife of the Red Bee Latvian band songs of which i even got to hear in bars of Ukrain while laundering money there.


There was a guy in ukrain ,he was jewish in a Yamenka, Drinking with Rabis till white devils appeared, Kosher for dummies, owed me 3000bucks i didn't want to take with me through airport ,left with him as an advice from my parents , he was found, three pieces of him ,been told, seems he messed with the mob after loosing all property in gambling, no money for me :0.

Both Younger Brother - Last Days of Gravity and OTT Sklon grow on you, OTT i forget everytime , Younga supa' brotha songs just stick for hours.

Architecture in Helsinki one of these that can put a smile on anybody who doesn't even want it.

Do the Whirlwind


Heart it Races


One of first Tim Burton High Quality shorts

Val

We have no hermetic sealing to what keeps us o' outer world here in the Stoo-gee-o so I sit in cold for many hours not even on an elastic chair , my chair is renesance tho .. poor me.

here hale , three years old, seen from what leaks heat.


Recording might take place in this very room tonight or during the week, but we've got to meet mr.cow first. he just called n' will be here soon, too dangers go anywhere on a bike...

Eventualy that evenining: we were training and coaching monkeys to play the Nintendo till sunrise.

When they left cow followed them trough the parking lot with his psychic vision from the cowtch.

Here brought upon shorts from mr.cow.
2001 Twin Towers Redistaster - living room

Cow, bugsy and minky(me) conversations in car. road to party #1

Mr.Cow, Mr.bugsy Mr.motek and minky conversations in car. road to party #2


Tea party, Cow bugsy, his cousin and minky discussing cuisines..


Hippie Ditz , Mr.Motek's roof , me telling stories o' drug arrest to Yamit and the phone.. oh his phone.


Cousin and mr.motek ramblings on roof


Also Photoloads from phone, many lost.

and finally the ancient clip for Gary our UK friends uncle. (see lyrics in post below)

Val

I am going to release my next song after a long time , since my voice has matured n' my last song Beers VS Fears , the single will bare the name of A Sidekick of a Psychic

soon in your mail boxes opt clicking on my name in top corner

This first song recorded about my english cousins uncle they've show drunk behavior o' and That's my best recorded song to date except these lost the like of Wives they fall by old gone and lost Vodka Implants solo band of mine (a whole album lyrics and a site Kaput) fuck them.

Gary
Gary Has commited a crime
Gary Has commited a crime
His wife beats him
and she calls him a slime
slime
oh what has he commited
oh what has he commited
well sometimes he shows us his balls oh noes
and sometimes he shows us his ass oh yes
our uncle has shown us his ass (SS)
oh yes , yes, yes
when children were little and pissed in the potty
their(our) uncle was bitter and his matras was salty
yes, yes , yes
he brough them some toys and told them
oh boys , i gave you the action arm but it wasn't to mock
it was (just) nearly 9o'clock
and i must go home
or maybe instead i'de fla(e)sh my nipple
and stab the vood nigger of ba(o)ttledome
our uncle is amok on beers
think of christian (chris-d) pro boxing in rings
our uncle is amok on beers
think of christian (chris-d) pro boxing in rings
our uncle is amok on beers
think of christian (chris-d) pro boxing in rings
I'll flash my nippe and stab the nigger

Beers VS Fears
break your neck
break your vows
brick Versus braw is there something worse
n' tho drunkmans' life has no remorse
when the dumpster calls
the cheer of bitter drops
on your balls
on your balls
on your balls
just like that, sugar daddy
to whom your behind is
ain't just a bend or a pose
oh a moan
like no mountain of shit
there's a mountain of hopes
the great thing that builds the wall
the wall which breaks with Alcohool
surround yourself with friends and blood
relatives are as much a bother as flood
a way to dip your brush with crit
and spray the wall
with no paper at all
just a bump of fish bones where the textures is queer
lives tariq abdul uaqim (a terrorist)

Bugsy, gonna hang alot at him after he's out o' jail 18th/2nd .. he's out for this friday also.

Will rollerskate to him whole summer , fix worn wheels and break for that.

Our old friend Mr.Cow from Mooreviews fame, is back to us someday with articles may-so-be we make him write about his and mine circumsission exeprience, story o' broken promises and shame at age o' six.

He's making pay as a Bar-tend(l)er in a nightclub and aslo a restourant, today he finished his bagruth (what you get after highschool) in math , he was studyin 'half a year to redo it , he said it was very difficult so he must've failed but we're going to celebrate tomorrow regardless.
alot of weight off his shoulders we hope.

ps,C.Q (-.-. --.-), Yas , Jasmine me old friend and home in jerusalem ,where it snows tomorrow, is still singing.
1.theme song from Doogie comics o' shesek.org fame.
2.waiting for Doogie.
3.Doogie Blues.
4.Anna friend o Doogie.
5.Elections Promo(Yatta!).

comment with your own blood fool , Blood-Pen Brings New Terror to the Phrase "Write This Out 1000 Times...

Get Quicktime solely(soul-ly) for this Tarzan Rubberband , thanks to Robert Decker (fame o' MIA Astra Imperii)for the link.

Now now, our Lord of flies redemption called Temporary Nymphs has not yet been finished nor published , two years in work with uncle Stane y'see, if you've got time on your hands to read 80 pages and to comment on our masterpiece i'll send it to you.

Stane was great fun to hang out with in finland , we (accidently) ran into each other in Latvia last time , scroll down to "August- The day in between monday - Putting shit together" for that story , we talk on everyday basis, he has great ideas for many things...kudos to him.

besides half-kilo stuff he sends us a day he threatened and treated us to Coin Operated Boy.

months of postings went into our conversations therefore bothered not update for it was too much , and The Rapture's "Whoo! Alright! Yeah ... Uh Huh A"not enough ,not enough but he also sent us an album of Terry Scott Taylor , Neverhood Soundtrack fame, his solo album from 1998 John Wayne with some songs i remember ever since first time i heared them with all their words.

Maybe i am unemployeed due to him , Bobby Conn, he has moves too , found this tonight again Never gonna get ahead.

Val

oh oh wait.. last night , we parked on michaelangelgo st. in Jaffo for party across at victor hugo.st we are attacked by arabs on horses , literaly. they claimed we offended one of their girls by shoutin' she's on our cock after partyin' on what they claimed their parkin' , we had to repart. none of us see anyone or talked to anyone n' went buy boose at.rafael or donatelo.st we return to parkin' n' father n' mother in traditional wardroe st. shout at us ,then comes the horse ,white , three fellas on it, then they say hide the boose n' forget about the girls , then off horse they threat friend assa with long stick elaborately found .. oh oh we left unharmed to party.

All-so i met her , Soledadth, a Spanish word meaning solitude.

A good MA~?dchen ran away once,
left the childhood schA~¶nen place;
left parents and even
the man, who it was promised.
Before a house it remained there stehn,
inside was a man too longs
the pictures stung into naked skin,
there the good MA~?dchen called loud:
Master, master give me roses,
Roses on my white dress,
stech the flowers in the bare
unberA~¼hrten MA~?dchenleib.
' these roses cost blood ',
the master spoke gently and well,
' end frA~¼h your recent life,
none wants to rather give you.'
But the MA~?dchen was vernarrt,
on knees endured
until it did not resist any longer
and the needles took to the hand.
Master, master give me roses...
And from its deep passes
if BlA~?tter grew, BlA~¼ten grew,
unknown pain grew
in the young MA~?dchenherzen.
SpA~?ter has one it gesehn,
lonely to landing on water stehn.
Never one has ever erfahrA^'n,
took which price of the masters.
Master, master give me roses...

oh what a css proffesional for the last two years , i've been, site could be loaded in 3seconds instead o' 20. oy.
Get back at your wife here.

Val

Repost'o'soul

Last Shpongle's more (of a) goodie than (a) baddie. My choice to cradle with ever since it got released four-five-six months ago.

Long time ago I was grabbed by the balls by a clever fella by the name o' Arthur, I believe It happened more than on a single occasion- probably twice.

Transition Transition Transition

Worst trip of my life few days ago , been kicked out of me'friends' house because he had to go, around hour n' half after consumption o' san pedro cooked cacti with mescaline.

The night before we peeled it and were getting reed of the spikes before cooking it for at least four hours.

I was bound to hitchhike, didn't quite manage to convince myself to do it for some * (reason maybe), was hidin' under the bridge thinkin' bullshit , then met some guy n' he seen me suffer n' confused yet very wide smiling.

All my presence there(not), asking him in which direction I hike , he sais I better not hike so I ask whereto I walk ,laughing(us both), he decided to put me on a bus himself.

Prior to that somebody stopped me to ask where's some crossroad but it's a very popular one and there's an asylum called the same way so it's a popular joke here to ask hairy people who don't give a fuck how do they get there. I tell them , I don't know , maybe left here , I don't drive (y'see), in a macho voice of course.

Safe environment kids or you might want to leave the country. It's another kind of joke , you don't really want to leave the country , you just feel that something's wrong with everybody in it at the moment.. self centered pun.

The woman in Lithuania's fixin' her quality(red) wooden floor claims that I dropped a waffletoaster on it causing a bent , curses on me , but it was the cat , he dropped it on himself on the way even , died two-three weeks after I left. Sources indicate he was replaced by a nigga'.

Symphathy for Mr.Killer vs Oldboy vs Sympathy for Lady Vengeance - Chan-wook Park he touches people.

My first encounter with The Preacher happened to be while climbing on a stool diggin' trough my ho(t)stess's brothers' comics collection located ontop of his closet in that Latvian country , Vol.1 will satisfy you beyond doubt.

Next's Transmetropolitan.

Walk by me cryin' on a forgiveness day  I'll call you sooner or later.

Val

Usualy what was going on there on the old board is one gay guy still talking about a girl from his school ,many years after his been traumized by her divinity(tm) ,worshipping her with drawings n' fanzines , other disscussions included anal sex + uniform fetish, was pretty cheerful besides.

Here's the girl:
http://www.geocities.com/fakedot/lon.html

They've got a cult surrounded by her , him n' most of the people I know have got drawings and painting of her on the walls of their houses and inside rooms.

Also , he makes pluff dolls of people.

he heeey whatya say?
to too tooo much trouble!
head's free, young but where's mother?
mother's drunk on'te second floor
wives they fall
wives they fall

he heeey whatya say?
eight two , eight to six
my job's done shouldn't I be
sexualy reaching my peak
I be, my peak is sexualy reaching
yeah.. sexualy reaching me

I think it's time
I took a swim in lake you
if you took a swim in lake me
we'de give n' take we'de have mutuality

he heeey whatya say?
to too tooo much trouble!
headfull , broke, don't want another.

mother's drunk on'te second floor
wives they fall
wives they fall

Val

oh
jesus fucking jesus-fucking saved all the little children but me.
howdoyoudo?

wait , not that ..

right , here it's:

I was quite going crazy here today , talked to my grandma; she's quite mad and she almost died at my birthday.. (coma from diabetics).. she claims she have not escaped the hospital while her grannyfriend claims she did.

I barely sleep and get silly troubling intense lucid dreams of alternative universe in my bedroom.

but now after a beer I feel so much better.

outmost wisest friend I know have told me that last nigh:
"life is meaningless. all that is coincidence. you'll be a lot happier when you realize it all means nothing. all that matters is how many women you bag.
at one time."

as a reply to the following:
"I begin reading the german names of buttons on a boombox today trying to imitate Arnold Schwarzenegger with ma'voice, and when I turn the radio (radio is the word I heard while typing it in a song 'randomly' playing from my list) myself n' reliable witnesses hear the anchorman talking about Schwarzenegger as the gov o' cf.

The sixth song in my shuffle since I turned winamp today was Waxies Durgle. (from more than 2000 songs in the playlist.)

I open a page at imdb , a bio of some actor , he has pointy sideburns ,next thing I do is google something completely unrelated , begin reading and there's "pointy sideburns" somewhere in the text , then I hear a
manylettered word Iven't heared or seen anywhere for a while on a show in shoutcast , I search the page with the pointy sideburns and there's such a
word there."

ipkissium mascosis
opossium mycosis
Ipissonyou mycousin

discord , disscord this cord.

hypercondria more likely,
hypercondria probably,
Leg crossing - excessive.

Truth here forgets that it doesn't make a noise...

My subconscious-ness tells me "lets be frank , you know I am not god or some mysterious identity who tells you all them funny little secrets , I am your unconsciousness." ,  what a fucking atheist.

Parties , big ones with many kilograms of people and small ones with many people with lil' kilograms.

more than A week ago I return from Yas, no Idea why I returned at all , so happens to be I did , I forgot my key  on her floor  , she calls me from work right when I plug my mobile to recharge at home , she doesn't hear me so I redial and female voice from the Bureau Against Interrogations asks me if they could talk with a name on my side , I ask the female voice If i can talk to me'gal, she hangs , I redial , get transferred to Yas, she asks me why I left , I can not answer , I tell her that I've got no fucking idea , she says It would be a good idea if  I return , but I can't since it ain't cheap , I am lazy and I can't handle the way. (pff)

..way home..
there was a prob at the bank getting some tugriki trough though trough, the first clerk accepted my signature without a hustle but when I went to the register to pick money they said my signature didn't match the one on my passport (che-burashka) , I explained the situation to her ,about dislexia , about how much people change with the ages n' so changes their writehandables .. yadada ..

flew Prague , and hot damn silly me almost missed my flight there .. I invited a couple of german kids for a round of beer and eaten myself , but I misscalculated and the prices in the menu didn't include the tax..

it's 2 hours before my flight , I only have money remaining for the metro and the bus to the airport , problem is if you buy a ticket on the bus it costs 5krons more , so I get on the last bus to the airport and realise that I am missing those 5krons , and the driver is pissed at me , I could have not aproached him at all and get to the airport , but I got saved by the only people on the bus , some spanish couple.
another problem was that I checked in a couple of bottles I got on the dutyfree , one of Drambui another of benedectine and I had no money to check these two out , but I talked to the guy responsible for the baggage and convinced him to give them to me without the 60krons.

macho talks , ego dies: (stop right here. degenerates.)

oh n' , I had an encounter with some officers(tm) , fuckin' pigs tried a drug search on me on a holiday , one fucking week in this country n' those bullies jump on you , saturday morn , night after driknin' on the edge of a river n' those fuckers in blue come to show authority , fuck them I say , sitting there I was shakin' from lack o' pleasance , situation you want to kick somebody in the face , a bad hair day , n' I ain't violent , was not in a fight for years .. I ask them if they know that bitch Judy-Nir-Moses , she's the head of organization o' warondrugs these days .. I ask them you know war on the cancer , sorry , drugs.
they want to conduct a phisical search , they ask me for my ID , I don't have my ID, It's against the law , they ask me if I served in the military , I tell them I don't give a fuck about them or the military.. they ask me what's my name , I tell them , two mins later one of them calls me fuckin' Konstantine , sayin' my name in I hope i'll relax n' be "chilled" with them , I fucking tell him he's the one with short-term memory probs n' that if you ask me he's on drugs ..
anyway they were threating me they'de take me to the station , I told them It'de be funny , me , them , me without clothes , them draggin' me to the station .. ahhhh ..
when they said they're takin' me a friend said they'll have to take him as well , but they told him that they arrest me not him , he said they'll have to arrest him as well .. and anyway they fucked off , I threw my clothes in their face , they said that people like me belong in a special place when another friend joked with them that I am not alright , i asked "what places?" they were afraid to answer ..
told me that with other cops i'de get my ass pumped already , I told them I don't give a fuck about them or those other more sinister cops ..

now the point about Judy-nir-moses , the head o' state ...
that bitch had some of the outmost bullshit tv show I've ever seen about tarot-cofee-readin' astrology n' what the fuck not, very very stupid approach was there, she's the wife of some politician and her family seems like some secret society to me which controls this country ..
the irony is , two days later Bugsy's sister boyfriend , comes to me n' his cousin' while we're hangin' at some friends house n' tells us he knows about a deal with this J-nir-Moses sister for 3millions with the national lottery n' he wants to intercept it from her , that's another long story but next day I read about her son on my fav hebrew blog* , and the causin' tells me that his mother mentioned the biaaatch for no reason at all that day and it seemed weird to him as well ..
they can't imprison me anyway , unless of course I buy that 1kg for personal use n' they consider it as a dealer quantity .. pfff

<< Slow backward

ahh , me so tired.
birthday here , tiresome sleepless night.
going to the lake with friends again tomorrow.
lakes aren't mountains?!

we're in the jewish year sixthousand, almost.
met this 26 old guy today at the new year party , he had a stroke few
days ago , clinically dead , trice confused than I am now he's, people are
shaming him , ride on the fact that he's quite fucked , thing is I think
with him ,with all the misscommunication going on there : he tries to
build himself an alibi.

some nonsense about how our technology will advance beyond our ability to comprehend it.

Val

 a month a go

You ever dream of bald muscular men ,in passionate urge, chasing your ass. In these dreams- do you see a green-5 marked paper bill of the local currency ,burn green, like crazy. Of course you do and then you wake up to a long day and wonder what the fuck happened , or will it, still happen?

When you come across a freebie you were long y-earning to earn things get out of hand; a can of MACE , just there under the good ol' nightrain bench, its black Dutch cover scratched revealing aluminum of the dirty kind, numbers of its chemical potency ,cut trough, but you know this shit is of extreme potency and you know how you don't need it to be free, but teargas ,canned, from under the bench means you most certainly take it.

On the nightrain you figure that with a cann like this you can convince any tattoo artist to embody the lettering "Unpluggen(tm)", in an uncanny fashion , on your right asschick for a one-pretty-bill with a 5 on it, burning green.

But you fuck this shit ,and you walk the streets and streets walk beside and in front of you and pigeons get fed trice the size of their bodies and the bastards can't fly when their attempts to please you ,hovering in front of your nut holding palm ,closed behind the long wet sleeves of the 13th century German royal dress replica.

Then the candles are out , or aren't they ,have I delivered my job to its out-most potency ,but of course I should, and I would but not while I adjust the potency.

They are still turning the candles off when I return an-hour later. Knocking the big wooden door with my fist in a pretentious manor ,pretentious towards the Muppet gang, scientists of highest caliber- as considered in some circles. Met them forty five minutes ago. I was marching at some random direction at which transportation might be when Beer'o'clock rang my bell and a notion of where Beer'o'clock LIVES turned my back to the trail, to backtrail.

The scientists they look at me now, they see me receive a key trice the weight and size of my palm delivered by a fat happy guy with a dark orange colored replica of some vintage fabric hood of a cloak.

Your backtrail has just begun and so is your soothsaying ,long left friends in Suomi they walk the streets too, they have tried to call you for a week now; tell you they were coming on somebody else's budget. They've told you before too and you were fucking happy about and at that long forgotten moment.

They've arrived in town half an hour ago ,they went sightseeing before they had to lock themselves in the hotel and wake up to a conference of  extreme importance. Due to such an extreme importance you only manage to kidnap one of them for your beer o'clock - while walking them back to the hotel , the situation for your bestfriends among those who lock them into hotels: it ain't pleasant.

I remember there standing ,beer'o'clock ,early night,  lying my name is Illia to some Ukranian exchange student I ran into at some drunk night in Suomi , there I was talking marketing of some long marketed technology to some drunk Ukrainian balding fella, heck I remembered I almost stole his girl, The Spider Woman she was called.

But that was then and now my name is Illia and this guy wants to buy drugs for me right away. he tells me something of the sorts of "damn I walk this street and I see you walking by , and I've seen you before, and you shake hands with that Serbian guy who's with us", "and yeah I'll buy drugs from you right away" he says while that Serbian guy duels his father in the background trying to change his fathers plans towards him of not drinking beer with me, that late before such an extremely important conference first night in town with only one hotel key.

Two days later you wander the streets after a failed drug trade deal of misguided supply ,not that you don't get some to sample you just don't buy the quantity you were intending to, the sample was something we all wondered about so we all had to sample indeed, it ran low soon and we went high to meet the Ukrainian fella ,15minutes at the freedom monument.

He was not waiting long he just didn't find us when he called us , but we were there and he figured it pretty soon.

He said his German friends have left a bottle of vodka somewhere and we should hurry or we might not find it. The vodka was there , under a bench in a bag. Two patrol officers(tm) were sitting on the bench and he was not accustomed of  vodka getting trough officers(tm).

But it got trough and we were walking right away to stop beside some strip'a'club and finish that conference budgeted booze at once on a staircase of some closed insurance agency in an alley un-patrolled.

We were interrupted by a couple of lady cabdrivers screaming out the window at the strippers "why won't you take these guys in , the one in the middle is kind of cute!" , I wasn't too keen about the vodka or about the strip club but I happened to be in the middle.

Keen or not there was no more vodka at some point and the next couple of hours passed along together apart with a brainwashed Ukrainian guy ,talking politics to a couple of fools he was ,all that with a notion of understanding, they laugh ,the fools, baring teeth and nod their heads to each other in a frequency beyond his considerable doubt.

The night before sitting in lounge with that serbian guy we talk divine moments of truth , we loose track and realize that it was more than a month ago.

but what was it and where does it go and where are we now , the knot ties , another cat dies.

4, 5, 6, 25 african cockroaches in the kitchen , set loose but declared runaways.

It plays like Kevin Shield's 'Soon'.

so here I am now , but wait..
A day a bar , and the morning shines...

Yawn for me,
tragically.

It has all just begun, begone begone!
in the Aiiiiiiiiiiiirrr!!

Val

I think you also understand all of this when a very old man lewdly imagines you for a bearded girl while you help him to stand on his bones when he  attempts his drunk-a-best in presuing you that he 's going to kill you if you don't do as he say, he say fuck the little children.

I say this fucking jew-kid from a Hebrew restourant next door stood near me ,wearing that dress, and explained how he can make soap out of me , fooling him into revealing his age he reported first as a fresh bar-mitzva undergraduate (ala 13) but he was fucking six and he was obvious.

So I tell him "hey kid , you're too good to tango with the poor poor boys , you might be on the other side of this street , and you see those two" pointing at some guys in the strip club next door , "well , they're from the MAFIA kid." and then I fuck the mafia, get my pointy med-evil shoe off and smash it on the fucking Vegita on the other side of the ancient pedestrian discluded sidewalk.

I still wonder how he figured the soap-making recipie

She saw my comb over, her hourglass body
she has problems with drinking milk
and being school tardy
She'll loan you her toothbrush
she'll bartend your party

Kill me, kill me

I called and called, but I can't get through,
said he's on his own, but his own is you

Kill me
 

Why should I suffer?

Val

Crawlin' trough the park back home .. and this old guy is layen' (by the deseaase) fallen on the floor , I walk by him for a while when when shouts "mozhet pomogite" (help me young scum!).. his hands are in blood and he probably was very drunk for very long for the moment .. there was war trauma and fuck knows what else in the rambleōo.. anyway I walk with him to some random direction he figured  when he found the japanese girl in me and began callin' me "yob-tvayu-mat'-devochyka" .. then it evolved into "come with me dev'che-ka or i'll fucking kill you .." , so I told him "hey you can fucking kill me , why not , kill me." , "why kill you?!" and then it was more death threats when he got reely scared and lost his cool .. so anyway I just leave the old man hanging in the air step few steps and  sillylough ...

Val

-Big drunk guy wants to give me a haircut on a night train ,with his knife , miserably fails and I have a profound laugh.

-Revisiting Silly student Filmmakers, met them few days ago at the beach while they were shooting my host ,dressed in black stocking wearing a sock on his head and you could see his balls trough the stocking, violently gesturing to unseen beings ..

-German gals they come and go. Red pajamas anyone?

- Stane's Island

-Cow VS Bugsy,  they've rented an apartment in Eilat ...

-Synchronicity, too much of it.

Dear Hunter:
To keep a potential screed down to a few lines, we would like you to cover the Honolulu Marathon. We will pay all expenses and an excellent fee. Please contact us.
Think about it. This is a good chance for a vacation.
Sincerely,

Paul Perry
Executive Editor,
Running Magazine



October 25, 1980
Owl Farm
Dear Ralph,
I think we have a live one this time, old sport. Some dingbat named Perry up in Oregon wants to give us a month in Hawaii for Christmas and all we have to do is cover the Honolulu Marathon for his magazine, a thing called Running. . .
Yeah, I know what you're thinking, Ralph. You're pacing around over there in the war room at the Old Loose Court and thinking, "Why me? And why now? Just when I'm getting respectable?"
Well. . . let's face it, Ralph; anybody can be respectable, especially in England. But not everybody can get paid to run like a bastard for 26 miles in some maniac hype race called the Honolulu Marathon.
We are both entered in this event, Ralph, and I feel pretty confident about winning. We will need a bit of training, but not much.
The main thing will be to run as an entry and set a killer pace for the first three miles. These body-nazis have been training all year for the supreme effort in this Super Bowl of marathons. The promoters expect 10,000 entrants, and the course is 26 miles; which means they will all start slow. . . because 26 miles is a hell of a long way to run, for any reason at all, and all the pros in this field will start slow and pace themselves very carefully for the first 20 miles.
But not us, Ralph. We will come out of the blocks like human torpedoes and alter the whole nature of the race by sprinting the first three miles shoulder-to-shoulder in under 10 minutes.
A pace like that will crack their nuts, Ralph. These people are into running, not racing -- so our strategy will be to race like whorehounds for the first three miles. I figure we can crank ourselves up to a level of frenzy that will clock about 9:55 at the three-mile checkpoint. . . which will put us so far ahead of the field that they won't even be able to see us. We will be over the hill and all alone when we hit the stretch along Ala Moana Boulevard still running shoulder-to-shoulder at a pace so fast and crazy that not even the judges will feel sane about it. . . and the rest of the field will be left so far behind that many will be overcome with blind rage and confusion.

I've also entered you in the Pipeline Masters, a world class surfing contest on the north shore of Oahu on Dec. 26.
You will need some work on your high-speed balance for this one, Ralph. You'll be shot through the curl at speeds up to 50 or even 75 miles an hour, and you won't want to fall.
I won't be with you in the Pipeline gig, due to serious objections raised by my attorney with regard to the urine test and other legal ramifications.
But I will enter the infamous Liston Memorial Rooster Fight, at $1,000 per unit on the universal scale -- e.g., one minute in the cage with one rooster wins $1,000. . . or five minutes with one rooster is worth $5,000. . . and two minutes with five roosters is $10,000. . . etc.
This is serious business, Ralph. These Hawaiian slashing roosters can tear a man to shreds in a matter of seconds. I am training here at home with the peacocks -- six 40-pound birds in a 6' x 6' cage, and I think I'm getting the hang of it.
The time has come to kick ass, Ralph, even if it means coming briefly out of retirement and dealing, once again, with the public. I am also in need of a rest -- for legal reasons -- so I want this gig to be easy, and I know in my heart that it will be.
Don't worry, Ralph. We will bend a few brains with this one. I have already secured the Compound: two homes with a 50-meter pool on the edge of the sea on Alii Drive in Kona, where the sun always shines.
OK
HST

Val

1

Am I getting Grey?

I am back, but where is it that I am back from, as I enter a woman holds the door for me, when I am inside she presses the oval-shaped-glowing button, the second in a column, representing the eighth floor and before she decides to look at me I counter by pressing a button down hers, the one representing the sixth, just then this piece of lifting dreamachinery scrolls us upwards, skips my floor somewhere in the process and compromises on the seventh.

“It stopped on the seventh” I mention while the door opens, “Strange” she proclaims surprised, “Yeah strange…” I agree stepping outside and as soon: she forgets what she was all surprised about.

Where I am back from is this woman’s dream, with landscapes of glass and of chrome, an ocean of office buildings. Flying past her, dressed as a janitor mounting a broom, I ask where her boss’s office resides “for it’s rather dirty and I need to clean it”, her reply comes with a giggle “a floor down mine in that building you silly.” she points on a building, pentagonal-illuminated, monstrous, and I follow – and that’s when I am back and where from.

In the corridor there is not a staircase, lit by kaleidoscopic variety of colored neon two composite doors stand together in its far end, there’s something behind closed doors and if it’s behind closed I must be in front of open, the doors are now open and the something behind them is a man inside a polished office, decorated with portraits of men in high ranks, and a woman’s head on his lap, that’s the same woman from the elevator and that’s how I got him there.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, “Exactly” I notion with a smile, “I am here for one sole purpose” I state “and as long as it concerns me I am your worst friend from this day on, the deal we will now maintain will save your ass as much as it’ll save many asses you would like to personally penetrate, so before you jump, you better think of the whole thing as a big condom and condoms are good for you..” I pause. “What the hell are you talking about?!” he bursts, “ 

 “What are you, the Native American mafia?” he shrouds.

“no” I calmly disregard ,”I am your worst friend and we both don’t have too much more of a time before the whole thing begins to catalyze.”

That’s when I fade, Mr. President, he fades and the whole scenery along with us dematerializes with a twirl when a synchronal pare of thunders precede a lightning and awakes us both.

2

Do Jamaicans dream of Amsterdam?

 The exoskeleton was one-and-a-half times the size of his body, maintaining pretty much the same ratio as his in: altitude, fatitude and width of shoulders - he was a small man; with the big spirit him was then as much as he is now and so was the exoskeleton, her name was Zoola. His name was given to him at her birth, his name was howled by the great beasts, his name could be: pronounced, drawn, scripted, sighted among the stars and vaporized with shapes and contents of smoke from the goddesses’ leafs, a goddess name could be asked from her directly at her own space.

 His name meant:  ‘He who doesn’t talk a lot’, she, although considered by many a ‘nobody’ bared the name roughly translated as: ‘She who talks for he who doesn’t talk a lot’ and to him she was quite somebody.

He was not a mute – he just happens to be quite practical when it comes to dodging bullets.

 At day she fed mostly from rays of the sun and at night she was fasting - lubricated by oil from the goddesses’ seed she stood there , slacken in her axis, outside his tent, letting the roots not be disturbed absorbing the hot desert rain ,waiting for him.

 Something is coming he knows, and by whistling twice before opening his eyes he’s out of the safety zone – she momentarily registers and the music begins, another whistle and the music turns lauder. Rolling out of his blanket he lights a tobacco roll, prepared from his own crop. Smoking he looks around, the tent glows in patterns of orange and indigo swallowing each other in a dance, after few puffs his focus seems as if adjusted by them into extreme visual clarity, everything is outlined and sharp in resolution beyond such the fabric was aliased with just moments before, looking downwards, putting his lighter back, the patterns still trace in his visual cortex and he knows where each of them begins and ends. ”I said it once and I’ll say it again! Again! Again!” the music loops in a dub from outside the tent passing the thin walls without too much of a distortion.

 Unzipping and compressing the, honey stained ,he notices, fabric-door to let the dim, clouded sunrise, light in he stares outside and at once memories from last night form from debris, the Bedouin Gypsy’s – those camper people, he wonders what happened to their delegate obedience to him as their host that turned the place into a baklava master-bakery. The whole thing must have been a passing-by wedding ceremony he figures and laughs remembering two dozen gypsies circling his tent in a dance. They must have been the ones who called the rain putting their dance to his attention.

 Outside the tent grey dunes spread in one direction and the asphalt highway looms in another, barefoot he steps outside, avoiding the canal he dug around the tent, routing rain water, not to flood him in his sleep. He looks upwards; the rain has lost from its density by now but still each drop leaves a trace and forms an overwhelming grid for him to walk trough, each drop lives another, more transparent life for seconds after its decantation into the big one.

 The sand under his feet tickles like a wet warm carpet, tuning into the beats of the music he flows into stretch chants bounding patterns from beats: two as one , three as two , four as ten he travels in them with his personal portable time machine he loosens his muscles , hold , pet and release, the hunt begins.

 3

Everything for stormy

“Listen Girl” the pale sleepy man said scratching his dreadlocked head “I can’t give ya’ that, they’ll mount ma’ass to hot iron and then perform all that Chinese water torture shit in tha’ book on it” he paused trying to recall what ‘it’ meant, “my ass.” he remembered, “and that’s for me to tell them who I gave it away to”, he sighed, feeling just a bit guilty before he continued, “and then when they find out who it’s at, they’ll track ya, retrieve their merchandize and probably do the same thing to ya’ass just for the kicks o’ it.” He hoped that was enough to make her ‘dig’ the situation he felt she was putting him in.

“Zombierella…” the short-red-haired girl exclaimed with a grin.

“Alright’a fucking allright’a” he found it hard to argue with her, “not alright’a” was his last attempt to stand up for ‘it’, proceeded with “so fucking not right’a at all.” When he opened/unhooked the           and gave Stormy, the girl, a  .

 Downstairs, outside Zombierella’s apartment building an Italian looking man wears his dark glasses, an Acapulco shirt and an admirable neat haircut. Waiting for stormy he entertains himself asking the kids around about their homework and how hard it’s on them these days, to one pretty girl, particularly, he offers a cigarette from his pack.

  “Why do they call him Zombierella, Is he Gay?” he asks, packing the cigarette pack into his sleeve, Stormy who’ve just exited the building and let him notice her , slowly but audibly walking in the opposite direction to his, for him to catch up.

 “oh I don’t think so” she replies but not without a doubt after she stops and turns, “he fucked me proper.” she shot this avoiding eye contact with a glimpse of a smile, “and not just once…“, she smiles yet again but now, maintaining a constant grin, she spilled what Zombierella have long forgotten himself: “it’s just that he was the only white man in tha’ hood…”, “…and”, “some of his gestures are rather on the ‘fairy’ side.”

 The Sicilian guy walking with her is known as Ferrari, he claims that he used to have a ‘very-fast red-car’ back in the days, before some redneck scum has decided to saw off a tree, two hundred years old, which with change of ‘the wind’, according to the lumberjack, has dramatically collapsed on his convertible just when he got out of it to ask the guy what was he doing with a chainsaw near the sidewalk he parked his car on.

 ‘Now-days’ he was most known for surfing the traffic, that was, public transportation, surfing was, never paying for the ride; he could get to ‘places’ in town faster on three trolleys and/or buses than on one and not have to pay for a single one of them, no he didn’t have a multipass, he just had: an incredible sense of timing, understanding of the forces involved and the right-on-schedule liability the corporations were proud of. He has also had a computer in his pocket which was helping him quite bit with it, announcing the next possible wave, processed according to his inputted destination, into a speaker plugged in his ear, requiring him to remember close to nothing of schedules.

 His methods of dodging the controller, who usually has a radar marking the position of clients from who a payment has been automatically scribed trough their pocket computers, was rather simple, he wore a jammer, which he acquired from his cousin in the military, as a belt under his, this made the controller have to touch everybody who claims to have paid, and that means everybody, the controller hardly ever remembers faces of who is on-board already and jackasses wearing military equipment on them are not of his concern ,but that puts him, the controller in an awkward position due the possibility of insulting clients who might and probably will fill a dissatisfactory of service report ,and that earns Ferrari his time. The controller - he thinks of what happened to the good ol’ days.

 Today he takes Stormy, a girl he has had the pleasure to first meet about a week ago, on a free ride to the Zoo. There, Stormy says, they’ll meet up with a weasel, not just a weasel she says, a very specific and honorable weasel who in his last incarnation was a very smart man, so says Stormys’ other friend, and when we meet up with him we take him away with us,  she says.

 4

The anOther Friend

 The other friend was, Lafayette Ronald Kentucky X, a reality show refugee, the leader of Media Liberation Front and a profound Ad-buster. Occasionally Lafayette terrorized the city by parachuting half a dozen of old TV sets from a hired vintage plane, hacking into billboards such the one of “Coca Cola™ – With Pleasure™» altering the logotype into the likes of “Suck Cock™ – With Pleasure™» and setting up crime scenes which ridiculed the corporate news-press when they had to report, the next day, that this was merely a hoax with hired actors, second hand wives and fake blood when they were all hyper-excitedly dramatic about it just yesterday ,and there were plenty of those.

Lafayette he knows what is happening, and the information he gets a hold of he puts to a use. Trustworthy sources have screamed wolf before but on the shoulders of every wolf hangs a cattle of sheep who want the wolf dead even if he’s not an instant threat, Lafayette takes to account that If it’s happening, it’s still happening whether it’s fabricated or not and it’s the reason for such an accruing he’s after.

Sources become trustworthy when they’ve got the right order of filtering logic behind them, involving a miscellany of interests this is based on of-course, if something ,not recently accounted, penetrates trough the filters of mutual taste or personal reality this means ,to Lafayette, that things are changing, their interests reform ,triggering him a dependant on them. And if it’s so he would like to know if these old changes suit his new taste, in the more often case ,when they don’t , he prefers to be aware regarding which kind of authority he would have to handle to avoid persuadi