Thursday, May 17, 2007

Marble House


Butterflies in your stomach. Catch them with a net, squeeze them in your fist, spell your thoughts, draw your sighs and let it go. It's a puncture wound. It bleeds and stains. Wash your hands, stitch your wounds and let it scar.

10 things I learned at Paintball



Last Saturday me and some friends went out and had a blast with Paintball. I had never played that before so I was pretty anxious to give it my best shot. Long story short, we divided ourselves into two teams,
Ze Boys against Ze Girls, we suited up, grabbed our guns and went on rampage. ^.^
It was both fun and
rewarding as I've learned some very important lessons.

1. Shooting women will only get them aggravated (well, if you were to try silver, then maybe that would bring them down)
2. Women *can* aim and *will* shoot you. Which brings us to my next point..
3. You *need*
appropriate protection
4. A camouflage outfit and mask will greatly impair your ability to run around. This is to further emphasize and support 300's theory according to which men used to fight wars...naked
5. Years of practicing your aim, stealth and moves on
Wolfenstein 3D, Half-Life or Counter Strike are worth nothing. When you go in there you're nothing but a confused, helpless noob
6. The "men love to compete" expression is greatly overrated. Just get a woman going and then see if you can think of something that will stop her. She will not hide if fired upon, she will not give up if hit. She will run with that flag like there's no tomorrow, regardless of anything, from safety to rules
7. If you want to beat women you need
decoys. It's easy. Get a bunch of shoes. Toss them around. Watch the girls go wild!
8. There is nothing more satisfying than shooting a friend in the face
9. There is never enough ammo
10. A woman zipped up in a paintball outfit, firing at you, is sexy

Yes, we did loose, 4 to 1, but, in our defense, we were outnumbered and taking ourselves too seriously with tactics and such.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Theatre is life. Cinema is art. Television is furniture.



We want to relax and take our minds off the problems we have.
We rant about how the internet is stuffed with porn and that we have no time to read a book.
We are the target audience.
We are the masters of the remote-control.
We turn on the T.V. while still taking our shoes off.
We choose to spend minutes, hours of our lives watching television.
We want violence, sex and lies. We reffer to them as entertainment, art and objective truth.
We want to have other people analize and draw conclusions for us on our past, present and possible future.
We want politicians to lie to us, be it an endless list of promises or a report on how our economy is doing.
We want to be paranoic and feel uneasy in our homes.
We want stereotypes.
We want to be taught what beauty is. We want that beauty to be choked by cosmetics, digitalized and sought as an ideal.
We crave for other people's dreams and for that soap-opera that makes them all come true.
We want to be ill. We want them to tell us we have a disease. We want that pill just to be sure.
We want to see other people succeed or fail. We do not take the time to consider their stories but will only look at them as a way of passing time.
We want to see that girl beaten to death with stones only because it stirres emotions, boiles our blood and makes us feel alive.
We want that evanghelist to tell us the end is near and that we need to put order in our lives. Otherwise we would not have taken the time to consider our existence.
We want to be convinced that we need to buy that cream if even if there is no such thing as an *anti*-wrinkle cream.
We want to exercise indoors. We check the teleshopping channels for the latest "8 minutes a day in your living room" program for losing weight, for that belt that builds up muscles while we sleep or for those wonder pills.
We want *them* to *fight*.
We want to see aliens, to uncover the goverment's secret plans and to believe that we are watched.
We want to see what billionaires do with their money and then believe that we would not turn arrogant or snobish if we had a fortune.
We want to believe that our nexdoor neighbour is killing us with his smoking habbit while our car is parked in the street : "Do I have enough gas to get to work tomorrow ?"
We want to be fed crap and all we ever do is ask for more.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

*I* have a blog


Hi mom! Hi dad!
*waves*

The Andromeda Galaxy will collide in 3 to 4 billion years with our galaxy. Scientists *think* (speculate) that our Sun and planets will not collide as well but that the two galaxies will merge and create an elliptical galaxy, thus leaving humanity thrive onwards(1). Now isn't that cute? But it's wr..erm..but who cares? At the rate discoveries are made nowdays, do not be surprized if the 432AFX[insert_alphanumerical_character_here] meteor will land in your backyard within months. If it does, please do look on the brightside : you'll have front row seats to the destruction of Earth, pretty lights and A LOT of media coverage.
Regardless, I want to make an everlasting statement of my ephemeral passing through this world by...writing a blog. As some serious hardcore bloggers will tell you, Blogs are foreva' .


(1) "In case you haven't heard, the latest disaster for the Universe is that the United States is going to go to Mars, and then we're going to colonise deep space.. with our microwave hot dogs and plastic vomit, fake dog shit, cinamon dental floss, lemon scented toilet paper, sneakers with lights in the heels and all these other impressive things we've done down here.

But let me ask you this : What are we going to tell the intergalactic council of minsters when one of our teenage mothers throws her new born baby into a dumpster? How are we going to explain that to the space people? How are we going to let them know that our ambassador was only late for the meeting because his breakfast was cold and so he had to spend 30 extra minutes punching his wife around in the kitchen? Or what are they going to think...that it's just a local custom that over 80 million women in the third world countries have had their clittorous's forceably removed in order to reduce their sex drive so they woun't cheat on their husbands ?!

Can't you see how eager the rest of the universe is for us to show up ?!"
George Carlin