Campanie contra-electorala

Semi-pamflet de sensibilizare sociala, creat intr-o stare de “imi bag p**a”, dupa ce am vazut, din greseala, in repetate randuri, un avatar care spunea “VOTEAZA!”. Cel mai nasol articol de pana acum, deci nu citi, mai ales daca inca mai visezi curcubee si crezi in unicorni. De asemenea, mamaie, daca citesti articolul asta (apropo, iti multumesc ca-mi citesti blogul, esti singura), te rog nu ma pune sa stau in genunchi pe coji de nuca, promit ca nu mai zic niciodata “imi bag P” si ca pana la urma o sa fiu un cetatean model, si o sa merg la vot, asa cum m-ai invatat. Si dupa o saptamana o sa sterg articolul asta. Te pup, transmite-i sanatate lui tataie.

Dupa cum ziceam…Poate fi cineva dragut sa-mi faca si mie un avatar cu “NU VOTATI ! EMIGRATI !” ? Va rog? De dragul terapiei...

P.S. : Nu accept decat comentarii anti-vot Da, nu o sa am niciun comentariu si da, pe blogul asta nu e democratie. well guess what? Nici in tara asta nu e democratie. E hotie. Ca in codru. Si stiu ca vrei sa-mi spui ca ai tu in minte un candidat care nu fura, dar nu e asa. Toti fura.

Multumiri unui anumit cucos…pentru avatar. Anarhistii te iubesc!

Professional loser

Dear Fuck-Wads that live one floor above my apartment,

I just wanted to write to let you know that I really did not appreciate you waking me up this morning (and the last 364 mornings, including saturday mornings, since I’ve been living in this apartment). Altough I understand your claim that your apartment needs capital repairs, it might have been wiser to do the hammer-drilling stuff somewhere AFTER 12:00 PM. Oh, and I would have appreciated if it didn’t take ALL DAMN YEAR, working from 8:00 AM to 9:00 AM every fucking morning!

Your “golly fucking gee, Ma’am, it won’t take longer than a couple of days” response does not account for the fact that I never actually got to sleep for the past couple of MONTHS!

Your hammer-drill perforating my ceiling has not only caused me hours of sleeplessnes, but also headaches in ways that may cause a permanent tick. Your “Ma’am, the new professional plumber I hired told me his work will be done by the end of this week and I cannot explain what’s taking so long” is a load of horse shit that you should be forced to eat. And “plumber” is not a profession, it barely qualifies as a hobby. Your “As a courtesy Ma’am, we would be willing to do the renovations only after 12 o’clock in the morning” is really NOT A COURTESY WHEN YOU CAUSED THIS MESS TO BEGIN WITH. I have an idea, why don’t you torture us 8 hours a day, working from 8:00 to 16:00, like NORMAL people work, and end this hell on earth thing once and for all? Umm…just a suggestion, you total and utter DIPSHITS.

I wish a pestilence on you and your families so that you are effectively driven out of the gene pool.

Sincerely,

Your much too tolerant flatmate.

21, mofo!

21 and officially allowed to drink alcohol in the United States. Life is good.

I never would have imagined I will be giving my fingerprints and passing through a walk-through scanner, on my 21st birthday, but hey, some say going out with your friends, giving out your cards like candy and get wasted is soooo out of fashion.

I’m being stalked by Dr. Fucking Freud

Update. The little pathological anonymous nerd who was getting on my nerves until yesterday, is no longer anonymous.

He was so sweet, trying to prove me that he knows what I’m doing at all times and when he doesn’t know, he’s trying to find out…and that he’s dangerous and I should get a restraining order…But as the Ice Queen I obviously am, I didn’t take the poor bastard too serious.

Having no life whatsover and willing to do anything to get a reaction, he finally revealed his pathetic, insignificant, loser identity: he is just this…boy [I think he's like...12]…I once had a conversation with, on messenger. The conversation was so boring, I don’t even remember what was it about. I do remember telling him my name, so that answers my “how the hell was he able to find out my name, when he only knew the few information I posted on this blog?” question.

Disappointed with the fact that the only people who are checking out his blog are his friends from “The Associated Stalking Weirdos”, he finally deleted the post where he “revealed my secret identity”   [ L-fucking-OL, you little psycho!!!] and he posted a profound, psychological diagnosis, based on the tabs he kept [anyone who's AYONE in Stalker World, must be a tab-keeper], while observing my behaviour. He’s so cute, he says I’m “a lost scared child” and that only he knows this hiden side of me, and other shit like this.

Awww…poor baby….I wonder if he’s on medication… ‘Cause if he isn’t, he should be, I’m sure he knows that. He should tell his parents to take him to a doctor.

google is soooo on my “enemies” list right now…

google just provided me with a stalker. As if my social life wasn’t bitter enough!

So this guy I don’t even know reads my anonymous blog and likes it. He meeboes me and I say “well 10q and all that stuff”, you know, trying to be friendly. And he goes “so…I know your name. and where you used to live. and where you live now. and where you study. and what grades you have. and what internet provider you have. and other personal stuff.” And I go “….whoaaa…..wait a minute sherlock…that’s like…WEIRD…”. And he’s like “that’s not weeeird….what do you mean?”. And I’m like…”ok, I mean like…stalker weird. What’s your name?”. And he’s like “My name is luke skywalker. or…austin powers…or…inside hunter…or something. And I’m close to finding out your home adress. But I don’t want to, I just do this kind of google searching when I’m bored. And now I’m not. But I’m not a weirdo, just so you know.“

Ok, FREEK, you’re not. But do me a favour. Call the guys from the space ship that dropped you off on Earth, and ask them to get you back home. Or call the guys that let you out of that lovely, white, strait jacket, I’m sure they’d be happy to help you.