Blonde Moments

Indeed, OMG! Shoes!
What you're gonna see here, are the first 3 pairs of custom made 'shoes with an attitude', made by yours truly and my brilliant friend, Andra.
Here's the story in short: like all great things, it has a pretty dull beginning. We were hanging out a few days ago, talking about (of course) shoes. And we reached the conclusion that even though we have a lot of great shoes in our minds, we can't find them on the market, which is, by the way, full of crappy, overly expensive shoes. Then it hit us! Why don't we MAKE the beautiful shoes we long for? And while we're at it, give other people the opportunity to enjoy them as well. Long story short, we went out, bought some nice, simple, inexpensive shoes, lots of ribbons, lace, fabric, rhinestones, beads, string, needles and glue and got to work. The result....see for yourselves... By the way, our shoes will all be unique, no two pairs alike and anyone is welcome to order (you can specify the size, color of shoe and prefference for heels or flats). Let us assure you that these shoes are made with lots of love and will try to keep the prices as low as possible.

It's almost 2:30 a.m. and I suppose I should be sleeping, studying for my Exam-from-Hell, or for that matter, be doing anything remotely productive and/or useful to mankind, but meh, I'd rather play with a fun gadget I found on the web. What does it do? Well for starters, nothing useful (i.e. laundry, cooking, cleaning). But it does something way cooler than that. It transforms your photo. So, all you have to do is upload a clear picture of yourself and this little invention, so gracefully provided by the St. Andrews University, turns you into a baby, a child, a teenager, an elderly version of yourself, changes your race or gender and as extra fun features, shows you how some famous painters would see you + what you'd look like as an apeman, a manga cartoon or even...drunk! Now that I've seen my boyfriend and several members of my family as ape...people, I feel like a much more complete, whole, gracious human being. Amen.
Yes, I know, you want to try it too. Here you go: Fun Face Transformer Gadget

I think one of the movies I'm most looking forward to seeing has to be Madonna's directorial debut, "Filth and Wisdom". No because Madonna is directing it, although I do have the utmost respect for her and her amazing career, but at first glance, because it starrs Eugene Hutz, the lead singer from Gogol Bordello, one of my favourite musical projects. When I first came across the movie trailer, I thought to myself "Whatever has Eugene Hutz in a leading role has to be bloody fantastic!". And by the looks of it, it shall be bloody fantastic! By the way, it appears that the film was in the Berlin Festival's Official Selection. That HAS to be good, right?
In short, according to IFC Entertainment , "FILTH AND WISDOM, is a hilariously sexy tale of three roommates who must delve into mischievous and naughty behavior in pursuit of bigger and brighter futures. A Ukrainian immigrant, A.K. (Eugene Hutz), finances his dreams of 'trans-continental superstardom' with his band, Gogol Bordello, by turning tricks as a role-playing cross dresser. As A.K. literally whips the privileged of London into shape, he also secretly pines for the object of his affection, Holly (Holly Weston), an aspiring ballerina looking for her big break while moonlighting as a slippery stripper. Meanwhile, Juliette (Vicky Mclure) steals medicine from her pharmaceutical job in hopes of quenching her dreams of helping Africa's youth. FILTH AND WISDOM is every bit as erotic and playful as it is poignant and touching, revealing the universal struggles we all face in our pursuits of happiness. "
Film is praised by Hollywood Reporter, Variety and European-Films.net, but seems to be seriously underrated on IMDb.com, where user reviews are divided. Either they love it, or they hate it. Couldn't help but notice the poor user rating, but at the moment it is only based on 200-something votes, so I'm hoping that it will improve once the movie is released worldwide.
So, let's all wait for October the 17th, when the film launches in the US (or even later if you're living in Eastern Europe, like myself), watch it and then discuss it. Will it be everything it promises to be? I sure hope so, because the trailer promises a lot and darn, I hate to be disappointed!
In the meantime, enjoy the trailer:

Here's an interesting story I found using my new toy, "Stumble". This story is an 1991 Nebula nominee, and it really made me smile. I just love the idea and after reading it can't help but wonder..."What if?"....
Mr. Bisson, the author, was kind enough to grant me permission to publish this awesome piece of work on my little read-by-only-myself-and-maybe-some-friends blog, so enjoy, World!



THEY'RE MADE OUT OF MEAT
by Terry Bisson


"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."

"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So ... what does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat."

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."

"That's it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."


the end


From the collection
"Bears Discover Fire and Other Stories"


If you, like me, enjoyed this story, go take a quick peek at the author's website.

I was thinking about beauty today...Pretty much like in any God given day, actually...I was thinking about myself and how I relate to it. Where do I fit in on the almighty Scale of Beauty? (can't help but notice how many meanings the word 'scale' seems to have nowadays. Or has it always had this many?). I, just like so many women around the world, regardless of their age, race, cultural, social and intelectual background, seem to have been fighting this neverending battle since the beginning of time. Yeah, I'm talking about the battle with my own body. Body wants to eat cake. Society says cake is bad because cake makes you fat, ergo aesthetically unacceptable. Therefore I am faced with two simple options:
1. No, body! No cake! Bad! Bad! Lettuce - good!
2. Oh alright, dammit, we only live once. You can have some stupid cake.
But what happens when Mind wants cake? You see, Mind is a lot more complex, shrewd and harder to negotiate with than Body. Give Body 15 minutes and it'll forget about the craving. But Mind is like a spoiled child throwing a fit in a crowded supermarket. Or a terrorist holding a large crowd of innocent people at gun point. Mind is almost impossible to negotiate with. And for some odd reason, Mind seems to have a mind of it's own. In most cases, Mind gets what it wants because there's nothing more creative and cunning than a Mind with a craving. "I'll throw in some exercise tomorrow" - On what? The threadmill that you've turned into an addition to your closet? Or do actual jogging, outside, wearing sweats, so that everyone can stop you and tell you (admiringly...or sarcastically?) how strikingly you resemble a slightly overweight version of Peg Bundy when you run on your tippy-toes? Come oooooooon. Here's another good one: "I'll start eating healthy tomorrow. I'll even go shopping and buy only fruit, veggies and ... whatever else skinny people eat" - Image flips and you're returning from the supermarket with a trunk full of a large assortment of devil-food (chips, dips, chocolate, how wings...bla bla). There you go! You won't go hungry for a whole week...day...
So, in the end, after another failed negotiation (I always picture myself in a grey suit, smoking a cigar, looking sweaty and tired, on the phone with my mind), Mind wins. Funny how after it gets it's way, things turn around and it starts pointing the finger at you. That's because Conscience (that bitch!) can only awake on a full stomach. There's no Conscience on an empty stomach. Sometimes there's no speaking in sentences either, but that's another story. So Conscience prepares it's prosecution and there you are, on trial for being weak, lacking will and self respect and of course, for being fat. I didn't know courts allowed Chips, Chocolate and Hot Wings to take the stand. Apparently they do, in matters of weakness, lack of will and self respect and of course, in weight related issues. The sentence is always the same (I dont know who judges this, but they're not very creative, I tell you!): Diet!
Meh! Diet again. What shall it be this time? South Beach (or South Park?)? Montignac? Blood type diet? No carbs? No proteins? No solids? No water? No air? Madonna-Angelina Jolie-Paris Hilton miracle diet (yours for only 99.95)? What? What? No matter which one it is, I won't stay on it for more than 2 weeks, that's for sure. Oh wait, I once went on the Montignac diet for a whole month! Woohoo! So of course, it's considered violation of parole and I'm back on trial. I don't know how come some people have the nerve to ask you to adopt one of those diets as a "lifestyle"! If i did that, I'd never obtain any joy from food for the rest of my miserable little life. I can't do that to myself!
But wait! Our backstabbing friend, Mind, has a backdoor for us (Mind seems to have many things that start with 'back'. I wouldn't be surprised if it had the Backstreet Boys crammed up somewhere in a jar or something). "What is it?" you may ask....I present you the marvelous, the miraculous, the m...something...ous Diet Pills! Ta-daaa! Here's how they usually work: you take one, you feel like crap, you can't sleep, you can't think, you can't get enough water, you can't get your heartrate to go down (a-ha! So that's how it feels when you exercise! I don't like it.) but there's one more thing you can't do. That is, Eat! Yuppers, the mere thought of food makes you ponder hepatite. How lovely! How lovely indeed! Only a few downsides... if you're a really tough cookie and pull through with the whole treatment, you'll get one of these or both: you'll put the weight back on faster than you can say "Look at me! I'm skinny!" and/or you'll be the proud owner of a completely fucked system. Or, if you're lucky, you'll be healthy and skinny, you'll marry Prince Charming and you'll live to be 300. Either one.
That's it for Part 1. Check back regularly for Part 2 and maybe further.
Thank you for your patience and here's a little gift for being such dolls and bearing with my yapping and my typos:

So i thought i'd post a video of a song that's very dear to me. It's Baz Luhrmann's 1999 release, 'Sunscreen'. The words in the title are make up one of my favourite parts of this song, which is, actually oozing with priceless, simple words of wisdom. One may even use it as a credo, a sort of mini guide for a beautiful, fulfilled life... If only we did more of the things mentioned there...



Actually, the words of this song are those of an essay called "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young" written by Mary Schmich and published in the Chicago Tribune as a column in 1997.

Here are these precious words...

Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

If only they could speak their minds...I'm willing to bet all my money that at least the cat's diary would be accurate to the letter. Probably the dog's too, but then again I'm a dog person and refuse to believe that there's only that much to dogs.

A CAT'S DIARY
DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.

DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair... must try this on their bed.

DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was... Hmmm. Not working according to plan ...

DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue. (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...

DAY 779 OF MY CAPTIVITY

It is now my 779th day in captivity. My captors have completely eliminated my canned food and replaced it with dry kibble, claiming that it is better for my health. The wet food was the only thing I looked forward to, and now even that has been taken from me. I have discovered, however, that the dry food serves to create sharper points on my teeth, and keeps them stronger. I must force myself to consume it, regardless of the taste.

Each morning, they read pages of what is called a newspaper. I found that it is particularly annoying to my captors if I lie on it while they read. Shredding the newspaper is also a particular peeve of theirs, and I have taken delight in doing this before they awake each morning.

My captors have now obtained a "fish tank" - which serves to make up for part of my loss in the food department. While the little creatures are tiny, they are quite tasty. They have yet to replace the two small fish that I have consumed. I must think of a way to make them notice the loss.

The bird continues to mock me. Its little metal room has proven stronger than originally anticipated...

DAY 801 OF MY CAPTIVITY

I'm unsure of my ability to survive as a captive and have made several attempts to break out. At first, it was simple enough to circle my captors feet, in a surreptitious manner, as they opened the front door. I would then bolt from them through the door to freedom. But, to no avail - they caught me in a manner of minutes - my legs are not as fast as they used to be and I grow weak with continued imprisonment. What is worse is that since the first attempt, I have now found myself separated from the living room. My captors are much more intelligent than originally anticipated...

For entertainment, I have taken to terrorizing the dogs by sitting on the kitchen table and swiping at them with my long nails. The dogs are obvious half-wits. They know very little about my skills as a hunter, and are forbidden by my captors to attack me. The dogs grow more irritated each day.

I have found my captors are easy to manipulate in many ways, but outdoor access remains elusive. I have not lost hope, however, and have every intention of escaping this horrid place one-day soon...

A DOG'S DIARY

Day number 180
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!

Day number 181
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!
10:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
11:30 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
12:00 noon - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
1:00 pm - OH BOY! THE YARD! MY FAVORITE!
4:00 pm - OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!
5:00 PM - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
5:30 PM - OH BOY! MOM! MY FAVORITE!

Day number 182
8:00 am - OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!
9:30 am - OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!
9:40 am - OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!

I just thought this was friggin' funny! Woohoo helium trip!


Ok, and the normal speed one is friggin' funny too! Ska-P? Meh! Sonseed is the real deal in Ska! Come on, guys, you gotta give them that. They were pioneers of the genre.




Note: To everyone who may be offended by the fact that i find this song (and it's chipmunked version) incredibly, ridiculously funny, i have one thing to say: Suck it up! *wink*

Well, well, well, my crunchy friends, here's one dedicated to the memorable episodes of The Simpsons, in which Bart makes those prank calls to the local bar, asking for people with funny names, just to get the bartender to shout out loud things that closely resemble obscenities. Remember them?
Alright, then how many of you know where the phenomenon (it CAN be called that) originates? Because truth of the matter is, as hard as you may find it to believe this, Bart Simpson did not invent this type of prank calls! *audience is in shock*
Actually, according to reliable online sources (well, as reliable as online sources can be), In the mid-1970s, two young men, John Elmo and Jim Davidson, began calling a bar named the Tube Bar which was located in Jersey City, New Jersey in Journal Square. The Tube Bar was owned by Louis "Red" Deutsch, and most of the time, Deutsch was the person who answered the calls. During each call, the callers would ask Deutsch to call out fictitious names, which, when said aloud, sounded like something else entirely (for example, "Al Coholic" = alcoholic, or "Cole Kutz" = cold cuts).[1] Most of the time, Deutsch would call out the names, unaware that he was being subjected to a prank. Sometimes, however, Deutsch would catch on to the prank, and when he did, he responded with extreme hostility, shouting at the caller with profanity, obscene sexual references, usually involving the caller's mother, and threats of physical harm.
There! Now you know the truth! Apparently, what started off as a series of prank calls back in the day, became (thanks to people passing the tapes around), an iconic part of the 20th century urban oral folklore. Yes, there is such thing as 'the 20th century urban oral folklore'! I read that online! They're never wrong on the web! LoL.
For your entertainment, I thought I should make the immense effort of copying/pasting some of the funny names these guys used. Source? The almighty Wiki, of course!


* Al Brikyonik (I'll break your neck)
* Al Coholic (Alcoholic)
* Al Depanzyu (I'll de-pants you)
* Al Kaseltzer (Alka-Seltzer)
* Al Knockerup (I'll knock her up)
* Al Kykyoras (Greek) (I'll kick your ass)
* Al Killeu (I'll kill you)
* Al Rankin
* Ben Debanana (Bend the banana)
* Ben Dover (Bend over)
* Bill Loni (Bologna)
* Billy McGuire
* Bob Wire (Barb Wire)
* Butchie Pantsdown (Put your pants down)
* Clint Torres (Clitoris)
* Cole Kutz (Cold cuts)
* Connie Lingus (Cunnilingus)
* Dick Yamidda (Dick your mother)
* Frank Enstein (Frankenstein)
* Hal Jalykakik (How'd ya like a kick?)
* Hank Deshank
* Hugh Douche (You douche!)
* Hugh Duct (You ducked)
* Hugh Jass (Huge ass)
* Izzy Cumming (Is he coming?)
* Jim Nasium (Gymnasium)
* Joe Dildo
* Joe Mama (Your mama)
* Joe Hardern
* Lou Kout (Look out!)
* Mark Miewords (Mark my words)
* Marty Cone (Maricón)
* Mike Ocksmall (My cock's small)
* Mike Ockhurts (My cock hurts)
* Mike Hunt (My cunt)
* Moe Ronn (Moron)
* Mike Rotch (My crotch)
* Mike Unstinks (My cunt stinks)
* Pancho Mouth (Punch your mouth)
* Pepe Roni (Pepperoni)
* Phil Miaz (Feel my ass)
* Phil Degrave (Fill the grave)
* Phil Lacio (Fellatio)
* Phil Mypockets (Fill my pockets)
* Sal Lami (Salami)
* Sid Down (Sit down)
* Stan Dup (Stand up)
* Stan DePain (Stand the pain)
* Stu Pitt (Stupid)
* Tim Mara (Tomorrow)
* Willie Doit (Will he do it?)
* Willy Etter (Will he eat her?)
* Willie Facker (Will he fuck her?)
* Willie Fagger
* Willie Frango

There's this really neat little site, by the name of I can has cheezburger where you can custom design your LOLcatz pictures. I will also add the link to my links section, so ya'all can have a little fun too. The site also has LOLdogs and a LOLcelebrities sections, and of course, offers you the oportunity to design your pictures in those sections as well. Everything is really fun and simple, just the way i like it. After all, if i managed to do it, you shouldn't encounter any problems whatsoever.
By the way, if, after reading all of the above, you're wondering what a LOLcat is, here's what Wikipedia has to say about it: A lolcat is an image combining a photograph, most frequently a cat, with a humorous and idiosyncratic caption in (often) broken English—a dialect which is known as "lolspeak", or "kitteh". The name "lolcat" is a compound word of "LOL" and "cat".
When I first heard about these LOLcatz, I wasn't particularly interested, as I only knew they were 'funny pictures of cats'. Not being the president of the 'Worldwide Cat Fan Club', if you catch my drift, I really couldn't wrap my mind around the concept of cats being funny. Well, my crunchy friends, they CAN be funny. Hilarious actually! Leaving aside the fact that some pictures depict downright scary cats, their lines are often so delicious that you don't even notice how ugly they are. Sorry cat lovers, but they are! (some of them).
But enough said. Here are my own personal LOLcatz captions. Feel free to comment/vote (input, whether it is positive or negative, helps!).

Giv Killa Kitteh chezbrgr or I kutz u!
I nowz nuffin about dis!
U trixed us! Dis iz no chezbrgr!
Halp! Plant eetz kitteh!
I betz u iz not givn Donald Trump funee lukz, eh?
I love this little bugger!
Wanna know a secret? I peed in your shoes :)
Why u laffin at mah toopeh? U shud b admairing mah artsez!
Halp! I iz beeng catnappd by alienz!

Un alt subiect care ma framanta de cateva luni incoace, de cand am dat, cu totul intamplator, peste un clip pe youtube, este cel al executiilor minorilor. Atunci am aflat ca exista si un site care duce o campanie foarte intensa impotriva acestor atrocitati ( nu le pot numi altfel, avand in vedere ca sunt impotriva pedepsei cu moartea in general, sa nu mai vorbim de situatiile in care aceasta este aplicata minorilor ). Site-ul despre care vorbesc este www.stopchildexecutions.com, si este condus de o iranianca expatriata, fosta Miss Canada si aproape ( first runner up ) Miss World, pe nume Nazanin Afshin-Jam. Nazanin este de asemenea cantareata si activista pentru drepturile omului. Desigur, mai multe despre ea puteti citi pe site-ul susmentionat.
Dar sa revenim la ale noastre. Realitatea este ca in secolul 21, cand toata lumea canta osanalele modernitatii societatii in care traim, cand drepturile omului si pacea sunt motiv de razboi (sic!), exista inca state cu mentalitate medievala, care practica executii ale infractorilor (multi dintre ei nedovediti) minori. Sunt state cu sisteme judicare putrede pana la maduva (stiu, stiu, cel fara de pacat sa ridice primul piatra, dar aici vorbesc de situatii extreme), in care echitatea si respectul fata de fiinta umana sunt maimutarite, devenind simple unelte ale puterii. Puterea, in aceste cazuri, sade in mainile unor indivizi retrograzi, obtuzi, insetati de glorie si de violenta, care spera sa controleze masele printr-un regim al terorii si al supunerii oarbe fata de o divinitate transformata in simbol al durerii si razbunarii. Acesti indivizi sub-umani pot ucide, tortura si mutila dupa bunul plac, atata timp cat nimeni nu ii opreste. Tot ceea ce trebuie sa faca este sa arunce in ochii populatiei o motivatie sordida, golita de continut cum ar fi decenta, moralitatea sau religia, si nimeni nu ii va trage la raspundere.
Bun, veti zice, si ce putem noi sa facem? E simplu, putem sa ne implicam! Fie ca e vorba de a semna o petitie, fie ca e vorba de a mediatiza un caz sau o problema printre prieteni si cunoscuti, fie ca e vorba de a trimite un e-mail catre o institutie sau o persoana publica, putem foarte bine sa facem o diferenta stand in fata calculatorului, intr-un scaun comod. Nu spune nimeni sa ne luam rucsacul si sa mergem acolo sa dam o mana de ajutor, desi acesti oameni ar avea nevoie si de asa ceva.
Parca ii si aud pe carcotasi: "Mdea...petitie...si ce rezolv dom'le daca semnez o amarata de petitie? Si-asa nimanui nu-i pasa!". Au contraire, conform site-ului www.stopchildexecutions.com, in urma presiunilor internationale, o serie de condamnati juvenili care asteptau pedeapsa cu moartea au fost eliberati (Vezi cazul Nazanin Fatehi). Petitiile sunt in majoritatea cazurilor cele care pun in miscare rotile comunitatii internationale.
Iata ce spune petitia conceputa de Stop Child Executions, petitie disponibila si in limba romana:

Domnului Secretar General al Naţiunilor Unite, Ban Ki-moon, Domnului Ghid Suprem al Republicii Islamice Iran, Ayatollahul Seyed Ali Khamenei şi Domnului Şef al Justiţiei al Republicii Islamice Iran, Ayatollahul Mahmoud Hashemi Shahroudi
Noi subsemnaţii, suntem profund preocupaţi de menţinerea aplicării pedepsei cu moartea tinerilor iranieni acuzaţi de delicte comise înaintea (implinirii) vârstei de 18 ani.

Articolul 6.5 din Pactul internaţional relativ la drepturile civile şi politice (ICCPR) declară:
"O sentinţa de moarte nu poate fi impusă pentru crime comise de persoane în vârstă de mai puţin de 18 ani".

Articolul 37 (a) al Convenţiei relative la drepturile copilului (CRC) stipuleazã cã:
"Nici pedeapsa capitală, nici încarcerarea pe viaţă fără posibilitatea eliberării nu trebuie să fie pronunţate pentru infracţiunile comise de persoane în vârstă de mai puţin de 18 ani. "
În calitate de stat semnatar, guvernul iranian este supus obligaţiei internaţionale de a respecta aceste două articole. În ciuda acestui fapt, Amnesty International a raportat execuţia a 21 de delincvenţi juvenili în Iran din 1990. În numeroase cazuri, aceşti minori au fost menţinuţi în detenţie până la vârsta de 18 ani înainte de a fi executaţi.

În ianuarie 2005, Comitetul pentru drepturile copilului al ONU, care controlează respectarea Convenţiei relative la drepturile copilului de Statele semnatare, a rugat Iranul sa înceteze imediat toate execuţiile delincvenţilor juvenili şi să abolească folosirea pedepsei cu moartea pentru aceste cazuri. In perioada verii anului 2006, parlamentul iranian ar fi votat un proiect de lege care stabilea crearea unor tribunale speciale pentru copii şi adolescenţi, dar acest proiect nu a fost încă aprobat de Consiliul Gardienilor, care supervizează legislaţia din Iran astfel încât să garanteze conformitatea acesteia cu principiile islamice. În timpul acestor ultimi patru ani, autoritatile iraniene ar fi studiat o legislaţie care să interzică pedeapsa cu moartea pentru delincvenţii juvenili. Declaraţiile recente ale unui purtător de cuvânt judiciar lăsa să se inţeleagă că propunerea de lege nu ar introduce pedeapsa cu moartea decât pentru anumite crime, şi nu pentru toate crimele comise de copii.
În ciuda acestor eforturi, numărul delincvenţilor juvenili executaţi in Iran a crescut în cursul acestor ultimi doi ani. În luna martie 2007, cel puţin 25 de delincvenţi juvenili se aflau încă pe culoarele morţii în Iran. Iată lista cu numele şi vârstele lor în momentul crimelor care li se reproşează (pentru aceia pentru care aceste informaţii sunt cunoscute) :

1. Delara Darabi, 17 ani
2. Beniamin Rasouli, 17 ani
3. Hossein Toranj, 17 ani
4. Hossein Haghi, 17 ani
5. Morteza Feizi, 16 ani
7. Ali Mahin Torabi, 16 ani
8. Milad Bakhtiari, 16 ani
9. Farshad Sa'eedi, 17 ani
10. Hossein Gharabaghloo, 16 ani
11. Shahram Pourmansouri, 17 a ani
12. Hedayat Niroumand, 15 ani
13. Mohammad Mousavi
14. Mostafa, 16 ani
15. Mahmoud, 17 ani
16. Hamid, 17 ans
17. Sajjad, 17 ani
18. Farzad, 15 ani
19. Asghar, 16 ani
20. Iman, 17 ani
21. Ne'mat, 15 ani
22. Hamzeh S, 17 ani
23. Saber
24. Reza Alinejad, 17 ani
25. Sina Paymand, 17 ani

Noi subsemnaţii, le solicităm autorităţilor iraniene:

- să furnizeze o listă completă a tuturor persoanelor condamnate la moarte în vârstă de mai puţin de 18 ani.
- să suspende imediat toate execuţiile şi să împiedice orice nouă aplicare a acestor pedepse unor delincvenţi juvenili.
- să ia măsuri imediate pentru abolirea definitivă a pedepsei cu moartea pentru toţi delincvenţii juvenili, în virtutea obligaţiilor Iranului în calitate de Stat parte al ICCPR şi CRC.

Noi subsemnaţii, rugăm stăruitor Naţiunile Unite, Înaltul Comisariat al Naţiunile Unite pentru drepturile omului şi Comitetul pentru drepturile copilului al ONU :

- să ceară guvernului iranian să se conformeze imediat obligaţiilor sale internaţionale aşa cum sunt ele definite de PIDCP şi de CDE.

Dar nu toate cazurile sunt atat de fericite ca al lui Nazanin Fatehi.
Clipul de pe youtube despre care vorbeam la inceputul articolului, spune pe scurt povestea lui Atefah Sahaaleh, o tanara ( o fata, o copila!) de 16 ani, executata in Iran, in orasul Neka, in anul 2004, pentru "fapte incompatibile cu castitatea". Mai multe despre ea, si aici. Pe youtube se poate urmari un documentar despre Atefah, realizat de BBC, dar in mai multe parti. Partea 1.... De asemenea, puteti gasi informatii despre Atefah pe www.stopchildexecutions.com.

Nu la asta m-am gandit atunci cand am creat acest blog, dar se pare ca sunt pe lume lucruri mult mai importante decat 'blondismele' (care, desigur, isi vor avea locul lor pe aceasta pagina)...

Oamenii despre care am sa va vorbesc, fie ei din Romania sau din alte tari, au nevoie de noi, de ajutorul nostru. Un gest care poate parea insignifiant, si care la o prima analiza poate fi ignorat cu eterna scuza 'Cu o floare nu se face primavara', se poate dovedi de o importanta covarsitoare, poate face diferenta intre viata si moarte. Intr-adevar, cu o floare nu se face primavara, dar daca fiecare dintre noi ar fi dispus sa renunte la 'o floare', am face o iarna mult mai frumoasa si poate mai blanda...

Primul este Mihai. Am luat prezentarea de pe site-ul lui, pentru ca el este cel mai in masura sa va impartaseasca prin ce trece, si cu ce il puteti ajuta. Daca e atat de simplu, atat de facil sa schimbam viata unui om, sau chiar sa o salvam, de ce nu am face-o?

Buna ziua,

Numele meu este Mihai Popescu, am 24 de ani si va impartasesc si eu povestea mea…

Am fost diagnosticat cu o tumora craniana de 4/2 cm situata in unghiul ponto-cerebelos.

Operatii pe creier de acest gen se fac la o clinica din Hanovra unde aparatura este foarte buna iar riscurile sunt minime.

Numai ca totul se ridica la suma de 40000 euro..bani pe care nu ii am

…Am strans o mica parte cu ajutorul colegilor de Facultate si cu imprumuturile parintilor, dar totusi suma este prea mare.

Va rog sa ma ajutati si pe mine asa cum ati ajutat pe multi sa nu imi pierd zambetul si speranta!

Conturile mele sunt:

Contul in lei : RO69BRDE360SV19860083600

Contul in euro: RO22BRDE360SV69519203600

Deschis la BRD Timisoara pe numele Popescu Mihai ,

cod swift BRDE ROBU

Cu incredere in Dumnezeu,

Mihai Popescu – Tg Jiu, tel: 0746.051.688

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E-mail: m1ha1_p@yahoo.com