my brain just threw up a little…

October 20, 2009

Reg “Flying Fish do not exist” comment!

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sol @ 10:11 pm

In your face, Michael!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flying_fish

sailfin_flyingfish

and this is what happens when they fly too high:

tobiko

Fish.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sol @ 5:15 pm

(05:07:39 PM) Friend: easy, isnt it?
(05:07:56 PM) Friend: piece of cake
(05:08:03 PM) Friend: walk in the park
(05:13:15 PM) me: park full of insane flying fish and seriously overweight women shooting bolts of lightning out of their butts…. is more like it
(05:13:37 PM) me: have you ever talked to an insane flying fish?
(05:14:13 PM) Friend: eeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwww
(05:16:33 PM) me: just a mere fact that it refuses to swim like all fish does, and is trying to fly, shows that this fish is intelligent enough to develop means of flying. An intelligence underlying its own discontent with just being a simple fish, and driving it with desire to change itself in fashion so radical, that innocent bystanders are likely to say “Oh look, a bird! Oh shit… it’s a fucking fish! get it off of me!”
(05:17:57 PM) me: talk to the fish
(05:18:05 PM) me: you know you want to…

(05:18:49 PM) Friend: where the heck do you come up with these things?!
(05:21:57 PM) me: my head
(05:22:44 PM) me: I keep those flying fishes between Foxtrot and FinalFantasy-7
(05:22:56 PM) me: would you like to know more?

October 19, 2009

Mary Twardzik

Filed under: Daily Crazies,Uncategorized — Sol @ 12:52 am

No idea who that is? That would be Mrs T. Why just T instead of Mary Twardzik? Local English-speakers cannot pronounce that overly complicated last name.

Yes, I looked it up? You do not like that little fact? Then let me ask you a question. Are you wearing socks? Yes? Good! Take them off and put them in your fucking mouth.

As I was saying… Mrs T. You have no clue who that is? Now I know that you are not a student. In fact, now I know that you were never a student. I also know that you are not from Continental US, Poland, and you are not Jewish.

How so? Allow me to explain! There is not a single person in this country (that’s US of A, if you are lost) that doesn’t know Mrs T’s “pierogi.” Fucking twats! It is called “Pelmeni” (accentation on second syllable, and that L is soft, like a Lufthansa). What Poles told you to call “pierogi” is really “pelmeni”, and what upi call “perogi” is reallyh a hard-shell pastry with WTF stuffing! Which is why in civilized countries it is always mentioned as “perogi with WTF” – where WTF could be anything from mushrooms to long pig and from sour cherries to liver and onions! You, my dear countrymen, were being lied to!

That earlier comment about “not Jewish”… just so we are clear on this, do you know why Poles hate Jews? Yes? Good, now put those socks back in and stop nodding!

The joke is on Poles here (sorry guys!) because they hate Jews for making Pelmeni better than any Polish Mom or grandma.

Why? I don’t fucking know! They just do. It’s on the same scale of secrecy as Illuminati and on the same level of obviousness as Paris Hilton being bad at giving head.

My grandfathers sister Rose could make pelmeni better than anyone else out there. Those things where nothing short of godly. They were on par with having sex for the first time (and not with a virgin!).

Listen… this Mrs T person might’ve gone right with her pelmeni’s if two things were in place. First – stop calling them fucking pierogis. That’s retarded.

Second, hire some jewish grandma’s to make them – and don’t tell anyone about them. Watch the demand on them things go through the roof.

Oh yeah… before you go interview for Fortune 500, remember to take the socks out.

xo

October 17, 2009

BenX

Filed under: random crazies — Sol @ 11:16 pm

Earlier today I watched BenX. It is about an autistic kid gets picked on a lot in school. He gets bullied, really. And not having ways to interact with his socium, he finds some form of salvation in a videogame. In some way I can relate to his escapism with the videogame. Funny how that works, if you are a habitual gamer, you are automatically regarded as some form of a looser-geek by most any female you ever meet. This one girl I ran into at a pub found out that I play WoW. Her face contorted as if I just told her that every morning I brush my teeth with fresh liquid fecal matter from an elderly cirrhosis patient. It is as though she could smell my little escapism and her deflecting attitude was akin to that of a hunter realizing that there is no way in hell he can get a kill.

Looking back I realize that having a route to keep myself content without getting into the human bullshit mating game is what she could sense and knowing that she cannot get me out of that comfort she backed away. Or maybe I am just getting old and seriously tired of chasing that carrot of some mysterious relationship that will be all “happy”, and I chose the well established route of my own comfort without having to rely on whims of some females biological clock, or whatever they call it.

I can’t compare myself with this gaming savant from BenX. Compared to him I am way too social and adaptive. Yet I can’t compare myself with Joe Schmoe (or Joe Plumber, was it?) because I cannot come to grips with the reality of myself within the society of breeders pretending to be knights in shiny armor. All they do is try to reproduce and all I do is sit back and gawk at the complexity of this heinous fuckery they call “dating.”It is really amazing what manner of idiocy men go through in order to drop their seed.

I think tonight I will hug on my dog and feed her. After that it’s laundry, dishes, and more gaming. I like it there. It is a fake universe, yes, but I would rather do that, than sit at some grubby table in a pub, trying to sell myself to some picky woman who really has no fucking clue about what I am made with.  Do you not see how this meat-market attitude is just downright revolting?

Someone (no finger-pointing here, sorry guys) said “you just have to wait for the right woman.” News for you, my good friend – the right woman is Smart, Beautiful, and Kind. If you think for a moment that she exists, go see a shrink. Alright! Alright! Lets say such magical creature is possible and is living/breathing/walking and is seeking a companion. Can you honestly tell me that this person is still out there not swept off her feet by some fellow with six-digit income, perfect teeth, socially acceptable manners and everything else that guarantees a worry-free existence? If you are answering this question with anything other than “no-fucking-way-Sir!”, you are either insane, my ex, or you are selling something that suppose to make my penis bigger.

So tonight its all doggy slobber and belly-scratching, hot tea, laundry, gaming, dishes, dog-food, more gaming, and sleep. Dog will come over and plant her fat head across my chest while I drift off into my happy blissfull sleep. It will be that cold black air sinkhole of a perpetual slow-motion falling through and back from the stuffy pillow and through the black well of sleep and into the endless cinema of dreams where I can fly and breathe and run and taste and rest… just to be pulled out by the chain of my arm anchored around my dog… the slow drudging march accompanied by waling of the ever persistent alarm-clock, that is like a snitching child screaming invocations of parental justice.

Screw the alarm clock. I will call my buddy and we aill go burn off some rounds at a range sometime in mid afternoon. I have this new rifle with a newly mounted scope that is yet to be zeroed. I’ll do that. =)

October 9, 2009

Strigil, the ass scraper

Filed under: gadgets — Sol @ 7:38 pm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strigil

wow… wash your ass with THAT?! srsly…

strigiles

things that go !

Filed under: random crazies — Sol @ 7:29 pm

Tonight I am driving to Boston – estimated just under 14hrs. It would have been 12 hours if it wasn’t for Canadian gun laws. They consider any firearm made before 1898 an antique. I am delivering a rifle that’s made in (see picture below) 1899. So according to Canadian custom regulations it is not an antique. Be it as it may, even earlier variants of that particular rifle that go back as far as 1891 can spit out a bullet at something 1000 yards away with a pretty sickening precision. Please note that recoil on these is also sickening, if you ever get to fire one of these weapons and the stock is not properly tucked in – then you will know exactly what I am talking about. This thing will kick you like a mule on uppers. I doubt that the rifle I am delivering is in working order. I fear there is a substantial amount of pitting inside the barrel. It will take a good gunsmith with a good barrel scope to clear that rifle for shooting. Or a few bags of sand, table clamps, and a long piece of twine. Latter is a trial and error, which is a bad choice when it comes to firearms. If that barrel blows out, it could very well kill or severely injure the shooter. However, in lieu of not being able to afford a gun-smith, this trial and error might be the only choice. We may need to pull that twine from behind the barricade with our teeth, because our fingers will be occupied being all crossed in hopes. And after about 100rnds and another thorough cleaning this rifle may be called functional again. Unless we will just say “fuck it, lets not risk it!” and hang it above the fireplace mantle with a little brass plate that reads something smug and witty… like “blowing heads off since 1899” or “this one will pull finger from 1000 yards.”

I was thinking of buying a pistol, but I have a hard time deciding. Hard to find a multipurpose weapon that would be accurate up to 50m, and light on the wrist. And I really cannot afford buying multiple pistols to satisfy my twisted tastes.  Firearms went up in price like crazy. Something that used to sell for 250USD now goes for 500+.  My recent trip to a gun-shop near Detroit was rather disappointing. I have seen prices on weapons that were clearly not worth the dollar, at 600+. A simple 38cal hammerless five-popper that used to sell for mere 180-200 is now tagged at 400+ at least! It was rather disappointing.  And don’t get me started on their rifles. It was just an aggravating thing to see an AR15 that was not even tweaked with good and fun bells and whistles priced at over 1000, and G3s at 1200+. You would think those weapons were gold-plated.

Looking at prices for ammo was also discouraging. I have seen prices for some russian military surplus ammo at under 50USD for a whole tin (that’s 440rnsd) some seven or eight years ago. Now it’s over twice the price it used to be. And that’s for a tin of ammo made in some eastern-block armpit of a country, none of that better quality russian stuff. Russian stuff is now 1/2 dollar per round in boxes of 20. (43 cents to be exact) Norma used to make ammo priced like that. Who in the purple fuck would pay 20USD for a box of 20rnds? A military grade ammo will drop a deer or a boar just as good as that overpriced crap.

Oh well. Enough of this. I should concentrate more on better things in life. Things like … having to drive extra two hours because old rifle is not old enough.

October 7, 2009

there is a piece of history for you…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sol @ 10:47 am

dsc00459

October 6, 2009

Pine, Pine, pine-cone, endocrin buble, and wtf did this come from?!

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sol @ 10:49 pm

1675–85; < NL p?ne?lis, equiv. to L p?ne(a) pine cone, n. use of fem. of p?neus of a pine tree (p?n(us) pine 1 + -eus -eous ) + -?lis al 1

Latin “p?neus”

becomes English “pine”

p?ne?lis becomes pinecone.

Parallel to that you have some other heinousness with newer Latin (that’s Italian) turning “pignatta” (which in turn came from pigna, that’s pinecone shaped pot) into Spanish “piñata” which was used for carrying water….

actually – here, read this:

http://www.mexconnect.com/articles/459-history-of-the-pi%C3%B1ata:

I really like that part with seven pointed star representing seven deadly sins. Wow…

You hit the thing with a stick (wrath), and gifts fall onto you and everyone tries to grab a handful (theft), and then you stuff your face (gluttony)…

Hey, listen, can we do a pignatta shaped like a giant vagina (worshiping false idols), and when you hid it hard enough, a mean three legged donkey hooker jumps out and has his/her way with all the revellers starting with the one holding the penis-shaped staff of power… Man, that’s a whole battery of deadly sins for you!

oh, there is a cute little bit: “At the beginning of the 16th century the Spanish missionaries to North America used the piñata to attract converts to their ceremonies. However indigenous peoples already had a similar tradition. To celebrate the birthday of the Aztec god of war, Huitzilopochtli, priests placed a clay pot on a pole in the temple at year’s end. Colorful feathers adorned the richly decorated pot, filled with tiny treasures.. When broken with a stick or club, the treasures fell to the feet of the god’s image as an offering. The Mayans, great lovers of sport played a game where the player’s eyes were covered while hitting a clay pot suspended by string. The missionaries ingeniously transformed these games for religious instruction. They covered the traditional pot with colored paper, giving it an extraordinary, perhaps fearful appearance.”

If I was Jesus, I’d be pissed, and that whole lot would have hemorrhoids.  But I kinda like the idea of a stripper in pinata.

pinata – doggy style!

Filed under: gadgets,random crazies — Sol @ 10:14 pm

She hates it when I leave. I end up coming home to a dog who was grumpy with me all day for leaving her by herself, and unconditionally she is happy when I get back home, and I can’t do a damn thing about this… I need to work. I no longer yell at her when she digs into the trashcan. I came to realization that she needs more toys. Food makes her happy too. Earlier today I told her “how about more chewy toys and cookies for you?” And after a moment I figured out what she needs for a toy. Hell, what ANY dog needs for a toy. She needs a low swinging pinata made with a blowup doll stuffed with bacon. Doll is attached via steel cable to a motor rigged with a sensor. Any movement near pinata and it goes up a foot. When movement stops – it comes back down.

October 3, 2009

i am so proud of me…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Sol @ 3:33 pm

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