Go away from my window

Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
I'm so mentally kicking you right now
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
but
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
I'm so sweet!
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
I shouldn't be kicked
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
unless you let me lick you and thus prove you're sweet, I refuse to take that as a valid reply
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
you should already know that
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
although I suppose I mostly tasted like beer on those occasions
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
sweat mostly, but fresh sweat so that's good
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
and ass, coz that's where I spent most of my time. I like ass
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
good
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
I like, eh, giving ass or something
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
as in "just lying on my tummy and enjoying"
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
and you do that very well
K_x (dirty numb angel boy - Drink the six mile water) zegt:
yeah, I practice a lot
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
hehehehehe

Ah, the follies of our youth. As in 4 years ago, not as in back when we were toddlers.

So, Kevin and Kenneth are off to Werchter and I'm ratsitting. Kenneth's rat is really old and ate his little friend, so possibly also evil. It's outlasted its own life expectancy, so of course, I am certain it will die while I am taking care of it. It's just mean that way. Maybe it's just pissed off because Kenneth never named it. I'd be mad at my mum if she just referred to me as 'Child' all my life. I think I shall name it Mister Flufferton-Whiskersniffs. It's so going to bite me when I go feed it.

Isn't it bleeping hot? I think it's bleeping hot. I also think I should use the word bleeping in everyday conversation, because it sounds so bleeping funny, like if Samson would ever want to curse, he'd say bleeping and then piss all over Gert Verhulst's leg. Anyways, bleeping hot it is. The perfect time for Pamela Anderson (has she worked recently? I mean, is she still 'doing' anything? Or does she just show up at media events?) to take her clothes off. She and some models protested fur with the witty slogan "We'd rather bare skin than wear skin". Next to her still somewhat off-looking face, what's up with the scratch? burn? whip? marks on her shoulder? I guess she still is 'doing something' if you know what I mean? Huh? Huh? Of course you do, you're all depraved.

Making Pamela look normal is the British Jodie Marsh, who is always in the tabloids, but I've never managed to figure out what it is she does, except show up at photographed events with her enormous talent hanging out. She's like an untalented Jordan. And Jordan isn't very talented. And neither 'lady' is shy. I've actually forgotten which one is which in those last two pictures. Does it really matter?

Another lady who was apparantly feeling rather warm, was Victoria Beckham. I cannot get over how freaky skinny she looks. She has no fat! At all! If a blizzard struck, she'd freeze immediatly! And she would be of no use for the survivors even if they decided to eat the dead.

In news about me: I need a damn scooter, so if anyone is selling one for cheap, let me know. I prefer a red one, because I used to have a red one, until my brother stripped it for parts and sold them and now she's in the garage and it would cost more to replace all the parts than actually buy a new one. Her name was Catinka, named after my friends Caroll and Tinka. I had a lot of fun with that old lady and she survived all sorts of crashes, like my friend Tim toppling it, me crashing it through a bus stop (really, they ought to put those glass box thingies in less dangerous places), me crashing into a tree (again, I say it came out of nowhere) and being hit by several cars. Aaaah, good times.

I haven't seen a lot of Wimbledon unfortunately, since I'm working a lot of hours right now. I was going to see Kim's match against Koetoezoulou or whatever her name was, but she forfaited so that was a bust. I did come across of these pictures of Anastasia Myskina. I've always thought Anastasia was sort of the middle road, with Koeznetsova being really ugly, Sharapova being really blonde and Dementieva being pretty. So I'm surprised it's not Maria who took off her top first. Now we await either Nadal or Olivier to follow her example. Though I don't recommend posing on a horse naked.

Boy Toy of the Blog is Randy or Jakub or whatever else fake name he uses. He has the whole cute faciness thing going on with slightly too big ears and a somewhat strange mouth that I seem to find attractive. That and a great ass, which I also seem to find attractive. Warning, penis alert.

Endless Audacity *Shred moi* zegt:
I can forgive a guy not having a cute face if he has a great ass. But I can forgive a guy having neither a cute face not a great ass if he makes me laugh out loud at least once a day.
Enrique – Light my Candle - zegt:
Dude, sometimes, you’re such a little pussy.

And to make up for neglecting Jessica Simpson last post, here are her lips, which are all natural of course and not at all shot up with Lord knows what kind of crap to make them look like a bee stung her. The only way this could happen naturally, is if she just blew 50 guys for 2 hours straight.

Which, considering she is Jessica Simpson, is technically possible, I guess. Damnit, I reasoned myself into a corner. I suppose I brought that on myself. One more of Jessica looking like a rabbit, and standing next to Ashlee Simpson, for whom surgery does seem to work.

I'd rather be lonely than happy with somebody else

Deemer / zegt:
I bought you a rubber poncho in your dream?
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
a huge one
Deemer / zegt:
how ruthlessly absurd
Deemer / zegt:
I really don't know what to make of that. I really don't.
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
Kevin says it's a dream way of condom
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
and it means I want to have your naughty bits in me
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
that's his interpretation anyways
Deemer / zegt:
and it's huge
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
of course
Deemer / zegt:
well still it's pretty absurd

At this point, does anyone, anywhere still want to see Britney spears naked? She went from ambigious American "virgin" to trampy yet hot pornstar/singer to drinking wild child that may or may not have screwed Fred Durst, to getting married and divorced in rapid succession, to well, an overweight mental case with skin problems who kept endangering her baby and walking around barefoot, stepping in needles.

Then there was the truly disastrous Matt Lauer interview, after which 87% of the viewers felt less sorry for her. Attempting damage control, she showered and had her hair done, but no one wanted the pictures. The next logical step? This must have been Britney's reasoning:

"Not a one persons likes me anymo, baby Sean"
*scared glance from baby Sean*
"I knows you ain't with the talking, but you's daddy is useless, and my mum don't wanna hear 'bout my problems no mo. See, I've been thinkin'"
*terrified glance from baby Sean*
"I's gonna die my hair right? and then, remember how Demi Moore, back when she wasn't all plastic and married to that bald actor guy, she was preggers like me and posed nude and it was all controversial, but in a classy like way, right?"
*puzzled look from baby Sean*
"Course you no 'member that, you wasn't even a sperm in you daddy's useless nuts back then. Anyway, that's what I gotta do."

And then she did. Turns out that even pregnant women can look like trashy whores if you just try hard enough.

Hou ons niet tegen, want wij gaan door

I had a good weekend, friday with Kevin and Kenneth (and later just Kenneth) barhopping, fun. Saturday movie with Kevin and Kenneth (yeah, they practically adopted me as their slightly hairy love child) and Red&Blue solo, because I didn't feel like sitting at home, which was fun too, just dancing, no talking, kind of nice.

But no matter. I had the oddest dream yesterday. Maybe as dreams go, it wasn't so strange, but it was very vivid and unlike most of my dreams, I still remember it exactly.

I was at the Stuurgroep, although it wasn't in Het Roze Huis, but in the class room I used to be in when I was 18. There were also more people that wouldn't be at a Stuurgroep, including some of the people from Roze Huis, mostly the older ones. I wasn't in front, but in the second row and the chairman of Roze Huis was talking about fundsraising. Kenneth and Sven Pichal were next to me, giggling about something and Karo was on my other side, drawing little hears on her notebook. Seppe was right in front of me, which was annoying because I had to sit crooked to see the front of the class. The row behind me had Yves Aerts, Tim, Sueann (wearing a Catholic schoolgirl outfit and twirling her pigtails, how very uncharacteristic), Yannick V and Nadine, who were making out for some reason, and in the back row were Alex and Kevin S (making out like swines), Ingrid (rolling her eyes at the two guys, while frantically raising her finger and shouting 'sir! sir!') and Tom L, who was reading a comic book (the one I got Kevin for his birthday actually, about a very hung superhero who fights crime with his lightning quick semen or something along those lines).

Somewhere during the Stuurgroep, Tim got up to leave, saying it was getting too late. I commented it was only 15.30 and the bell wouldn't ring for another 45 minutes. He started yelling at me how I had no business telling him what time it was. Meanwhile the chairman was still chatting away, although now he was talking about the beneficial effects of steamrooms on cats' fur. Tim and me argued on, until Sueann popped her bubblegum and it got stuck all over her face and everyone looked at her and started laughing and she ran out of the room crying. Tom went after her and for a moment everyone was quiet, but then the fire alarm went off and we all went outside.

Instead of ending up in the playground, I was now at the horse riding club I used to be at (from when I was 6 until I was about 19). Everyone was running in front of me, just me and Tim were still standing at the edge of the parking lot. Everyone else was running in the outside hippodrome, but now they were all dressed like kids and playing with soccer balls, hoola hoops, jo-jo's and other kiddie stuff. I stood there watching them and wanted to run after them, but Tim took my arm and squeezed it until I turned around to him and he said: 'I'm sure it was a lot of fun, but it's a little late to go back there now. ' And then he grabbed my other arm as well and his nails were very sharp and cut into my arms and while he was holding me like that, he kissed me, very hard and kind of uh sloppy. I closed my eyes (didn't even know you could do that in a dream) and I fell.

I opened my eyes (again, didn't know that) and now I was in a Carrefour. At least I knew it was a Carrefour, but it looked exactly like the Tecno me and my friends used to go to to get chips and sodas, before we would go to the soccer field and smoke and bullshit. I had a little card and I showed it to the cashier, who looked like my mother, just younger and with more make-up on than I can remember her ever having had. The card was a receit for a huge rubber poncho (no clue, really) that Rens had bought for me and now I was picking it up. I went outside and walked through a city, but not one I've ever been to. It had really wide lanes, and a lot of trees and big mansions. The light was also extremely bright, like at the end of Nightmare on Elm Street. I put on the rubber poncho, which was very warm and heavy and it made it hard to move. I could see other people, but they were far away from me, and I couldn't recognise any of them. I did know for certain that Tim was right behind me, but that it would be bad to look behind me for some reason. I had an enveloppe with an adress on it and it was important I would find it, but I couldn't read the name of the street, so I walked around hoping to find it. After a while I knew Tim was getting closer and closer and I started running, but the stupid poncho thing was too heavy and I fell.

And that's when I woke up.

If I had to guess, I'm sure i could decypher most of the symbolism in there, but could anyone clue me in about the rubber poncho? What's that about? *frown*

But I said no no, no no no no, I said no no, you're not the one for me

So lately just about everyone asks me 'How are you doing' within 3 sentences. I'm sure most of them mean it well, but I'm getting fricking sick of it. The acceptable answer is: fine, thank you, and how are you?

But of course that is a lie. But most people who ask you how you are, do not wish to hear you say: I'm tired, I'm sick, I'm lonely and I'm pissed off, how about you, got better? So really, why bother asking then?

One of the things I like about Kevin is what most other people would probably consider a weakness: his complete and total inability to say anything supportive when confronted with an intensely emotional situation. Okay, I just sort of made him sound like a robot, but I do mean it in a nice way. It's not that he isn't supportive, or nice, but when you tell him something emotional, he usually doesn't know what to say, so he just doesn't say anything and let's you talk. This gives a sense of being listened to (while in reality he's probably just thinking 'oh fuck' :)) and doesn't annoy me nearly as much as all the people who say the same supportive things they heard on the re-runs of Beverly Hills 90210 and which are generally accepted as things to say to people who are sad (if I hear anything along the lines of: it will get better over time, I will positively lock myself into a bell tower and start picking of people who have a compassionate face, one by one).

Not that these clichés aren't true, and not that the people saying them are necessarily insincere, not at all. It's just... they're clichés darling, I could have thunk 'm up all by my li'l ol' self, thank thee very muchachas.

So, how am I feeling? Tired mostly, drop down tired, literally, as I seem to fall down every so often, angry a lot, which is good, because it keeps me going, somewhat lonely, but I have friends to buffer that one, and feverishly horny in an unpleasant way, which might explain the recent rise in naked men on this here blog thing. And yet I'm doing quite well considering the circumstances, so quit asking :) I've never been very good at moving on, it's a flaw not shared by others and because I am ever so bad at it, it bothers me when they do move on as if it is nothing (or when it appears so anyways, let's put it that way), but that's my issue mostly.

Besides, what's the fun of hearbreak if you can't at least dwell on it for a while? I dislike the whole pressure to get over it and move on. I demand my right to wallow in self-pity and act like a brat! I demand the right to have moodswings that are nothing short of absurd! I demand the right to be in a fever from horniness and not do anything about it! I demand the right to write incoherent ramblings on my blog, because ,by God or whoever may or may not be up there, a lot of other people are doing it and they cannot even spell!!!!!

In unrelated news: my broter went up and left (again) and my mother is all in a shambles (again) and my grandmother even more so (again), and I am simply exasperated (again again), but the silver lining is that I now have an extra room and an actual wardrobe, so my clothes no longer need to be spread around the house in whatever is available. Too bad he took the bed though. Anyways, my father took him back in (I don't know why, he'll throw him out (again again again again uh again I think) within 3 months) but is apparantly refusing to feed him so he will still be eating here. The women and gay men in this family really are just wimps towards their children, grandchildren and lovers. It's a good thing I don't plan to reproduce.

I've never gotten the whole family thing, probably because we were never much of a family to begin with. It is completely beyond me why my mother and grandmother continue to support my brother and try to help him, when he just acts all sullen and throws it back in their faces. That whole maternal instinct must be quite a kicker. I actually used to believe all families were like ours, with all brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and in-laws just secretly or openly hating each other and trying to make each other miserable, but experience has proven that some families get along.

I adored Tim's family, they were so 'together' and really seemed to enjoy spending time together, whereas my family's christmas party had fewer and fewer guests as people kept getting banned. I don't even think they still have it, the last year I went before I was banned myself, there were like 6 people. I think I basically fell in love with his family and the way they treated each other, I would have done anything to please them. I mean, his mum knitted me a sweater for goodness' sake, how great is that?! It sometimes made me sad my own was so screwy, because it must feel nice to know you can always count on your blood relations to have your back.

Another little downside to my brother leaving, is that my mother has suddenly noticed again I exist. No, I'm not being a prepubescent boy who feels his brother got all the attention. I just mean that I was always the 'okay' one: no matter what was going on, I was always in at least slightly better shape than my brother, so I could be left alone. I grew to rather like that and even cherish my invisibility. My mother therefore knows nothing about what goes on with me, she doesn't even know Tim and me broke up. But now that my brother is gone, and all the time and effort she used to spend on trying to set him right is suddenly left pending, she has taken an active interest in me, which means she is constantly in my room, talking wise lessons (don't do drugs, don't make a mess, hard-boiled eggs are 6 to 10 minutes, your boyfriend is bad for you, you don't sleep enough, your hair is too long, you have such a pretty face, why hide it?) The egg one being the most ridiculous one, since I actually went to a school with cooking lessons and can cook better than she. As for the other ones: too late, I know, I know, I KNOW, I'm getting a haircut, shut up. She's a lovely woman, really is and I love her dearly, with the right amount of being annoyed at her, but she is so clueless about the world sometimes, I wonder how she managed to get through it the last 7 years. Then again, considering the state of things, I guess that answers itself.

Which reminds me, I did get a haircut. It's uh weird. I have ears.

Also, I decided to stop my speaking cunt experiment (with regard to facial hair for those not in the know) for a variety of reasons:

1) It's too much damn work, you can't no shave the rest, it looks terrible and I hate shaving every two days.
2) It's really warm and itchy!
3) Only lesbians like it, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
4) My mum loves it, which is always a bad thing. And raises questions about her sexuality.

So this weekend, it's gonna go!

Ow for good news from the work place: Kelly, one of my colleagues, is pregnant, which means she has to quit right away (no, that part isn't the good news). Pregnant women aren't allowed to work with small children because they run the risk of getting the Cytomegalovirus (CMV), which is potentially dangerous to unborn children. (I think I might actually have that right now, it would explain my symptoms and it is very common to spread through day-cares, but it's not dangerous to an adult, only annoying for a while). Anyways, she has to quit right away and will be replaced starting july. But she works 30 hours instead of 20 like most of us and now there are 10 hours left pending, and our coordinator Niek has decided to divide those over me and Katrijn. So now I have a 25 hour contract. Technically it means I have to work 5 more hours, but that's nonsense, in less than a month I've already worked 35 hours and I get paid for 20 no matter what. So I won't actually work more, but I will get paid for 5 more hours, hooray.

I don't mean to be derogative towards women (again again again), but working in an all-female place, I have noticed how terribly bitchy and sneaky they can be to one another. Maybe it is just the specific location I am at, but the intrigue, scheming, gossipping, and cutting each other down whilst smiling is really out of control. While I like each of these women (well, okay, almost each) separately, I very much do not enjoy having them all around the same table. Really, it's almost frightening, especially when you missed all the history for these bitter resentments and have no idea what's going on. Sometimes I think even they forgot what it's about exactly. The first reactions to my new contract were -in keeping with the tenure- somewhat mixed. While some were I think genuinely happy for me, others seemed to be rather 'bitten in the arse' as we say and offered some cynical comments, whilst smiling sweetly of course.

So another question (not that anyone bothers to answer these unless penises are involved, but what the heck): is it different working with men than women? Or did I just end up in a volatile environment? Anyone have any clues?

And now: picture time.

Boy Toy of the Blog is this guy, whose name is Jiri. And that's how far the extent of my knowledge about him goes.

There are so many things wrong with this picture of Pamela Anderson. I don't really follow the career of her breast intently, but didn't she get them reduced? Because these do not look reduced and it is a recent picture. The legs also look haggard, which makes one wonder why she insists on putting them out there like that and we can only be grateful that at least she remembered to wear that silky little red thing that tries to pass as underwear. Most disconcerning however is her face. What the hell did she do? Has her nose always been like that. It's not just the pose, I've seen other pictures where she looks like that (by 'that', I mean an aging drag queen who just realised (s)he went out in public wearing only red silky underwear and is trying to keep up a smile, but inside is screaming with terror). She looks like she had some seriously iffy face work done.

And then there is that pimple on the face of the planet. Here she is impersonating a very rich orange, one overdue to be made into that porridge you make with vitabis or some other dry cookie. Here she is trying to convince Eminem to sleep with her, or that's what I make of it anyway. Here she is on the cover of Maxim, trying to convince the two straight men that haven't yet, to sleep with her. I believe here she has given up on the human race and is attempting to screw a ladybug or possibly a fly. They then flew straight into a bug zapper to escape her overstuffed vulva. The rest are really just pictures of her in misguided clothes. But hey! at least she's wearing some! Oh... forget I said that.

To prove the world is a cruel place, it's been reported that Jessica is now dating Jared Leto. Which is unfair, because Jessica is a plastic orange adult-toy and Jared is well, this. And this only after he came out as gay, which was probably just a joke, because we've seen Jess in some flimsy skirts and there's no way she's hiding a penis under there...

...or is there?

I heard tham I'm wild and I'm free

Enrique *My chesthair drives the ladies bonanzas*zegt:
i dont get it
Enrique *My chesthair drives the ladies bonanzas*zegt:
das toch onhandig zoiets?
Enrique *My chesthair drives the ladies bonanzas*zegt:
stel, ge zijt een hevige niet-vriendin hebben man, en ge wilt er eens stevig op los rammen, da gaat toch ni met zo'n ding
Enrique *My chesthair drives the ladies bonanzas*zegt:
sprecies wel kwaliteitsmateriaal
Endless Audacity *Chattahoochie!* zegt:
indeed
Endless Audacity *Chattahoochie!* zegt:
and it comes in 'ass' too
Enrique *My chesthair drives the ladies bonanzas*zegt:
enfin, ik ben toch ni overtuigd van het gebruiksgemak van dat ding
Endless Audacity *Chattahoochie!* zegt:
hmm
Endless Audacity *Chattahoochie!* zegt:
I suppose if you're perpetually sexless and have no money for a regular whore, it is a one-time-cost alternative that's better than your own fat sweaty palms


This little gem of a movie is just priceless (and yes, disgusting, don't open at work or if you plan to yell at me for traumatizing you later). In case anyone is interested, you can learn more here.

Work was somewhat hard today, with kids that were out of control and each and every single bloody one of them wanted to do something else and it's hard to keep an eye on 25 of them when they're spread over six rooms and you have a crying 3 year old dripping snot all over your shoulder.

But, all is well, because after work Kevin picked me up and we had a relaxing sauna night, which was very much needed. We sauna'd, we steamed, we jacuzzi'd, we laughed at people in the dark rooms (you know, they don't seem to appreciate that at all), but most of the time we sat in the bar and had beers and smoked way too much. And we had silly talks and meaningful conversations. All in all, very relaxing and buckets of fun, so thanks to Kev :)

One anecdote I must share, because I enjoy taking you to the depths of society: Kevin and me were exploring the dark rooms (which were actually very well lit) and it's not really a room, more a corridor with little cabins in the sides and in those cabins are those icky plastic mattresses and a roll of paper kitchen towels (classy!). Anyways, we went all through the thing, but it was all more of the same, but in the very last cabin we saw (or Kevin saw, I didn't notice until I almost tripped over 'm) a pair of feet sticking out. Since I didn't see them, I walked through and almost bumped into an ass. A lifted in the air, wide-spread ass. This man, maybe a few years older than me, was just sitting in there on his knees and with his face against the mattress, eyes closed, ass towards the corridor. I passed surprise and then went into a fit of laughter that didn't stop until we cleared the whole corridor. It wasn't really that it was that funny, more that I thought it was so sad I just had to laugh.

Anyways, about two hours later we decided to call it quits (by then we spent most of our time drinking beers and we were hungry), but just out of curiosity we wanted to go see if he was still there so we went back through the corridor, which was quite full by now, it was like a naked boardwalk, with paper towels and porn. Lo and behold, he was still there, in the exact same position, but now his rectum was invaded by a hand. No, not his own, he was still perfectly motionless. Makes you wonder how many hands and other assorted bodyparts found their way there over the course of the evening.

I'm no saint (ha!), but I don't really understand what makes someone do that. When exactly does it become a good idea to go to a sauna, close your eyes, offer it up and let anyone and everyone have a go, safety and appearance not a factor. I better not think too much about that or it's just going to bug me. If it wasn't so darn impolite to bother them, I might have asked. I really do wonder.

In closing, the unsurpassable Rens of course had some pearls of wisdom on the subject.

Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
nice ass even
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
probably disease ridden, but still a nice one
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
maybe I should have checked his pulse
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
maybe he died during sex and the other one left him
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
.. actually.. now that you mention it
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
haha
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
"holy shit" /run
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
what an awkward time to die
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
and now everyone is fucking him and thinking how nice and easy that good-butted boy is
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
kinda quiet, but you have all sorts
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
*spray semen*
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
also, I assume (obviously) he was just there all the time and didn't bother wiping off (this makes sense, since he is such a whore). and like, guy 7 must just been squeeshing around in other guy's sperm and making sounds like he's declogging a toilet
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
maybe the guy with the hand WAS unclogging him
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
ofcourse
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
it all makes perfect sense now, doesn't it
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
he was a good samaritan
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
yeah
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
ugly bald good samaritan
Endless Audacity *It's so sad you just have to laugh* zegt:
a fat ugly bald good samaritan
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
I forgot fat
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
I failed life.

I hope you felt this all along

Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
oh my god
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
especially the one in his ass; wtf.
Endless Audacity *Marathon Man* zegt:
well, it would probably take a lot of them to hang him out to dry
Endless Audacity *Marathon Man* zegt:
I suppose
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
yes.. but... why.
Endless Audacity *Marathon Man* zegt:
tingly sensations
Deemer / It's in your reach. Concentrate. zegt:
touché
Endless Audacity *Marathon Man* zegt:
touch me
Endless Audacity *Marathon Man* zegt:
hehehehehe... God, I'm so lame...

And now time for a jolly post.

The Boy Toy of the Blog this time is this guy, whose name I don't know. And that's pretty much all there is to say about him.

In breaking news: I have realised why Paris Hilton always runs around in garments that are suspiciously like underwear and leave her (possibly amplified) tits and ass hanging out. When she wears something that looks like an actual dress, and leaves her naughty bits out of sight, attention is drawn to her face, and as a direct consequence to the fact that her face looks like she had a run-in with a hot iron, which made it melt. Seriously, barf.

Star Jones isn't that well known here, heck, I barely know what she does, but she hosts the View, a talk-show with an all female panel, proving women have brains or something. Apparantly Star is the crazy one. She used to be huge, really huge, then she slimmed down miraculously in no time at all (and good for her) and claimed it was just dieting, but everyone else says it was surgery. Then she had something done to her breasts, which is fine as well. She married some guy everyone seems to agree is gay and only married her to keep up appearances, while he parties with strings of men. Or something like that. And now she appears in public like this and makes me wonder why oh why would she do that. Image is from perezhilton.com.

And then there is Jessica Simpson (I'm not giving up on that!). She said the most profound thing recently, and by profound I mean 'stupid'.


"I love to kiss with my eyes open, because I can take in the entire situation and know if I'm enjoying it or not."

Yes dear, I suppose it does take too much brain power to close your eyes, kiss AND think about whether this is nice or not. I know I just loooooove someone staring at me with wide open eyes when I'm kissing.

Anyways, here is Jessica looking rather nice, in a Barbie kind of way. Here she is on her back, where she belongs and really, to the ladies: do breasts point up like that when you're on your back? Real ones I mean, wouldn't they uh drop down a bit? I'm just wondering, it looks strange to me. Can anyone clue me in?

And here is the Jessica inspirational poster that is just a must have.

You make me come unglued

Deemer / They say it fades if you let it zegt:
this is why we get along
Deemer / They say it fades if you let it zegt:
you're like a preschool-kid [oh my god. not at all pedofile-ish]
Endless Audacity *Trotse Rode Beuk* zegt:
hmm
Endless Audacity *Trotse Rode Beuk* zegt:
after years, the tables are turned and you're the pedophile
Endless Audacity *Trotse Rode Beuk* zegt:
wait, did I just call myself a pedophile

I'm home on a saturday night and I am B - O - R - E - D. So I shall do a blog update completely void of relevant content.

I went to Ekeren yesterday, to meet Cathy, and we in turn went to meet Seppe, Katrien and Jens at the Choc. Or Shock. Whatever, I thought it was called Choco at first. We had beers and deep philosophical discussions about what our responsabilities as an organisation (from the Enig Verschil point of view of course) towards the many minors are.

Some background info: the last couple of years the people that come to EV have been getting younger and younger. Back in the days of the dinosaur, when I arrived, I was 18, and that made me one the young 'uns. Nowadays, there are 13 and 14 year olds merrily scampering around our activities, café and parties. At first this happened pretty gradually, just one or two. Then there were suddenly 10 and right now I wouldn't even want to start counting them.

Great and all, gays and lesbians and bisexuals who are secure enough at an early age to take that step, cudos, congrats, hail Mary and Hallelujah. The problem it poses, is how we are supposed to deal with them. It's one thing when they come to activities, it's a whole other when they come to parties, where they are technically not supposed to be. And what when they are sexually active and have relationships? Is it our job as an organisation to keep an eye on that? If we know a 14 year old is 'seduced' (or seduces, because them 14 year olds are not so innocent sometimes) by a 20 year old, do we have to interfere? Legally, we should report it to the police. But that is easier said than done, when the 14 year old really doesn't mind any seducing going on. Is it any of our business if two people who met at our activity, later meet up at a bar and go home together? Where exactly does something stop being EV business anyways? If I should make out with a 14 year old at a party that's not EV related, is that a reason to reprimand me as coordinator? And does that go for everyone who works for us? Or only if something like that occurs in actual EV context? And what when a 15 year old has an actual loving relationship with a 20 year old? It's technically illegal, but when they're really in love and respect each other, is it really a big deal, and how do we deal with it?

It's a pretty difficult subject and a lot of us 'oldies' have been thinking and talking about it for a while now (although maybe we waited too long even), because sometimes it just doesn't feel quite right. I think we need some kind of policy about how to act in these cases, at the very least for those 'in charge' (I don't know a proper word to translate Verantwoordelijken right now, sorry).

You know, whenever I say I'm gonna do a contentless post, I end up talking about something serious-ish.

PS: Blogger is being a bitch again and not showing the picture it insures me was uploaded 750 times, so it's over here instead of at the top where it's supposed to be.

I just wanna be mad for a while

This song pretty much captures the way I argue.

Last night we went to bed not talking,
'cuz we'd already said too much.
I faced the wall,
you faced the window,
bound and determined not to touch.
We've been married seven years now,
Some days it feels like 21.
I'm still mad at you this morning,
Coffee's ready if you want some.
I've been up since 5,
thinking 'bout me and you
and I've got to tell you,
the conclusion I've come to...

(Chorus)

I'll never leave,
I'll never stray,
my love for you will never change,
but I ain't ready to make up,
we'll get around to that.
I think I'm right,
I think you're wrong;
I'll probably give in before long.
Please don't make me smile,
I just wanna be mad for a while.

For now you might as well forget it,
Don't run your fingers through my hair.
Yeah, that's right, I'm being stubborn.
No I dont wanna go back upstairs.
I'm gonna leave for work,
without a goodbye kiss.
But as I'm driving off,
just remember this:

(Repeat Chorus)

I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.

You stopped and smiled at me

Deemer / They say it fades if you let it zegt:
awesome.
Deemer / They say it fades if you let it zegt:
why would you DO that.
Endless Audacity *Trotse Rode Beuk* zegt:
it's like the lost Power Ranger. the glittery green one, called isaac, with the power to deepthroat the enemy to death and his robot is a pink poodle named Queerosaurus

This little intermezzo actually followed a rather serious discussion (as serious as nighttime dehydrated discussions get anyways) about sex between friends and the potential of awkwardness afterwards. I'm of the opinion that sex between friends should be possible, but only if both of them are certain it will not negatively influence the friendship there is. Fucking your mate while he's drunk out of his mind, bad idea. If he wakes up the next morning and is embarassed and awkward around you, was that really worth drunk sex?

If you anwser yes, you might not care too much about your friends. But that's cool, not every one can have a heart :)

I've been in both situations. I had sex with a friend of mine once (sober and he came on to me) and afterwards he was very weird about it. I'm just going to preserve my self-esteem and assume it had nothing to do with my 'performance'. Anyways (aargh, what is it with me and that word!), the sex was most definitely not worth losing a friend. Although I suppose we would have grown apart either way sooner or later, but that's not really the point.

I've had sex with friends who were okay with it, and if it had any impact on us, it was a positive one. I'm not advocating it, far from, because I think in a lot of cases it does raise issues. But it can happen.

I would however not have sex with a friend if there was even the slightest notion in my head that it would lead to our friendship being altered in a negative way. The Penis is a mighty motivator, but a quick (or even a long) bump'n'grind is not worth losing someone by your side, who you can depend on, talk and laugh with, and have serious nighttime conversations with. Or joke about men in spandex :)

Btw, I'm not specifically talking about him, I just got to thinking about it, because of something that came up in the conversation.

And now for something completely different. I assume everyone knows "MadTV", but how many of you know this hilarious Darlene McBride, a redneck, racist, homophobic, big-haired country singer. She sings about the basic values in life, such as white supremacy, straight marriage and the right to owning as many guns as you want. Her songs are actually catchy as frick, though extremely offensive. Go check her out here:

Christmas Special

Mother Day's Special

Thanksgiving Special

Take Back America Tour

Songs for Lovers

Songs for the Children

Greatest Hits

Marshall McBride LP

She's just the bee's knees baby!

Another thing I found on Youtube is this clip from the absolutely Trashtastic Anna Nicole Smith, presenting an award at the Australian MTV. You can watch her be all classy here. The reason I posted is, because I am strangely hot for the drunk, unattractive singer (the left one). He's not my type, I think he looks sort of scruffy and yet... me thinks he hawt (Paris, get back in your cage, bitch! Damnit). I found a picture of him here, his band is called the Dissociatives and I've never heard of them.

And with that, we hail the return of Boy Toy of the Blog. More to come fo' su'.

And in what seems to be becoming an on-going series: more celebs looking like total retards and/or whores.

First up: Denise Richards. Is anyone else really sick of the whole Charlie Sheen is an abusive pornaddict and I only screwed my best friend's husband after they were already in trouble and that makes it okay and I keep my kids away from their grandparents to spite my ex and -takes a deep breath- poor me and WHY IS NO ONE SUPPORTING ME!!!!!! - business. In case none of this rings any bells, good for you, you avoid the gossip columns at all costs and missed this soap opera-esque drama. Anyw... uh ... To continue: dressing like this, might not help her 'poor abused wife' case.

Next up: only Mariah Carey could 'accidently' 'stumble' on 'hidden' paparazzi while walking her dog and 'by coincidence' look as if she spent 5 hours doing hair, make-up and picking out clothes. Kudos!

And of course, let us not forget Jessica Simpson.

In closing: this guy was voted sexiest soccer player by the Mexicans. His name is Iker Casillas and I don't think he's all that sexy actually. Not horridly ugly either, just not 'woowsabestlookingsoccerplayerever'. Whatcha think?

Here comes Johnny with his pecker in his hand

And now, the return of the MSN Messenger related introduction:

Deemer / But it falls apart zegt:
jezus
Deemer / But it falls apart zegt:
how do you even come across all those buttpics
Endless Audacity *Step on toes, it all goes* zegt:
it's surprisingly easy
Deemer / But it falls apart zegt:
no wonder iran hates us.

Speaking of butts, Roland Garros is already over again (I swear there's a connection, stay with me here). I love watching tennis, particularly the Grand Slams and especially Wimbledon, which is coming up, so yayish.

So, the two defenders won the title, which is great for them and Justine deserved her victory. Though I still always sort of root for Kim. I saw a lot of Nadal's matches and he was very good as well, but to me he only won the final because Federer was, well, kind of bad to say the truth. Maybe he had a case of heatstroke?

And also a thumbs up for Martina Hingis getting so far. I love the whole fairy tale come-back angle. And it helps that she has a very enjoyable way of playing the game.

So anyways, like I said, I saw a lot of Nadal's matches, purely by accident, they were usually on when I wasn't working. I've noticed this before, but it all came bouncing back to me now: Rafael Nadal has a fantastic ass, barely hidden underneath those silly white pants he's always wearing. It's like two perfectly sculpted, yet bouncy orbs, just struggling to get free from their skimpy confinements. What I also noticed this year: I think the camera people at Roland Garros agreed with me. About every 5 seconds there was some close-up of Nadal's bodacious behind. They don't do that when Federer is standing ready to accept the serve (not so much anyways).

So like I said, looking forward to Wimbledon, Sue Barker, Nadal accepting serves, Federer on his best ground, and hopefully another slam by Kim. And maybe we'll even see Lindsay Davenport again, because she seems to have dropped off the face of the earth. Which reminds me, where the heck is Mary Pierce? Maybe they went on a cruise together.

Ow right, I'm a working man now and so far it's pretty okay. Kids are nice, co-workers are nice, work is not too hard, but absorbing enough to not be dull and they're all very relaxed and easygoing. The only downside so far is the commute. Zandhoven is only about 20 minutes from Lier by motorcycle (but mine died years ago, and no, I don't have a bike and yes, I could do that in summer, but I'm thinking ahead of cold weather which in Belgium is probably in two weeks), but since there are no direct bus connections between them, I spend 2,5 hours going to work and 2 hours coming back. That's a fricking 4,5 hours on a bus every day. Tomorrow I only have to go into work for two hours. I work parttime and I'm still away from home longer than my fulltime working mum :p So yeah, I think I need to get a new motorcycle. And by new, I mean of course, second hand and cheap.

This saturday I had a course thing for work in De Hoge Rielen, which I got to attend because the girl who was supposed to go and they already paid the 35 euros so they sent me in her place. The morning part was just doing things in the forest, as ideas what you could do with preschoolers. That sounds more wrong than it's supposed to be, but you get the idea. Anyways, although we got some good ideas, for us grown-ups it was dull as frick. And during one of the assignments I had to be dressed up to be a spring prince or something like that, which resulted in me getting my hair coloured (yellow, blue, green, purple, red and pink, it was lovely) , a crown made out of straws and feathers put on my head, my arms and legs being painted and every other possible part of my body being covered in colourful wraps. Did I mention it was 30 degrees celcius? celsius? It was hot okay! After hugging a tree (which really hurt my nipple, but more on that some other time and yes, we had to hug a tree) we then got a delicous BBQ with lots of veggies and 3 kinds of meat, it was delicious.

Did you know by the way that about 90% of people working in child daycare are female? And did you know that the other 10% is gay? Did you also know that of that 10% about 7.45 % is hot? And did you know that at least one of those takes of his shirt and pants when he sits in the sun? Well, you do now. There are some odd people working in daycare. But I suppose people living in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

Anyways (that's like my third anyways already, I'm so like totally Paris Hilton, but like I eat stuff) after the BBQ we did this big game, where we were divided first into tree teams (I was a Beuk) and then into colours within our tree, making me a Rode Beuk (or Red uh English word for Beuk which I could look up but am too lazy for).

We had to do all these assignments and fight the Gromlins. Assignments included me rowing to the middle of a lake, but the boat turned out to be only half inflated making me sink, which was refreshing, but I smelled like a sewer for the rest of the day. But still, great fun was had and in the end the Rode Beuken on, so ha! The prize was a bag of parsley seeds. It's the thought that counts, but I don't have anywhere to put any parsley so that'll prolly go to waste unless anyone would really like to have them, then just drop me a line.

I went to Red&Blue with Kenneth, Kevin and a some other people and we had a good time. I think. I remember fun, but most actual memories seem to have been erased, probably due to beer. Rather unusual for me to completely forget stuff, I guess it's the almost not sleeping, hardly eating and busy days. And possibly the beer. But only possibly.

In other news, Victoria Silvstedttsgsfdd or whatever her name is, and whatever she was famous for again, showed up to an AIDS benefit like this. She loves to "share".

And also, I hate Jessica Simpson. I have gone from 'who?' to mild annoyance, to indifference, to great annoyance, to thinking it was all funny, to disdain and now, for reasons I don't know, to just hating her guts. The grown - up thing to do, would be to ignore her all together. Since that is boring, I shall instead post as many pictures of her looking stupid as I can find. Well, not as many as I can find, I don't have all night and day. This update: Jessica wearing a skinned clown and Jessica forcing her boobs onto the camera.