Well, that's all. I'm a quittin' this blog now. I started it to have something to do for christmas, and because I thought it might be fun. And it was. I might get me a blog for real, as it were, but it won't be this one. This is over. Maybe I'll come back to it next christmas.
Oh, and I really think it's best, if you're going to read this thing (or even part of it), that you start at the first post, and work your way back up. Chronological, like, for sense-making purposes.
So goodbye, and welcome. Click here to go to the first post.
Goodbye.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
**....
OMFG, it's four o'clock. At night. And work tomorrow.
I was out tonight, with My Good Friend F, sort of a christmas thing. We did that last year, went to a restaurant and then dancing, and we liked it so we did it again this year. And we liked it again.
Belgian restaurant 'Lieve' in Amsterdam. Good food (mostly, except for the fish), great conversation, so that's okay. My Good Friend F is insane, that helps.
Later, we went to the Sugar Factory, for drinking & dancing & being so cool that women would faint and men would hate us, so we drank and we danced and we were cool. And the women, well they were a bit strange. Or drunk, is a better way of putting it. No actually they were drunk and strange. At least the two that we talked to. I talked to one of them, except in the middle of a sentence she turned to My Good Friend F, and continued the conversation with him. And ignored me for the rest of the night. I mean, what? Was it something I said? My Good Friend F later ascertained that they were in fact both crazy, but he may have said that just to make me feel better.
She was pretty, too. Ah well. Apparently there's some sort of sea, and there are fish in it.
I was out tonight, with My Good Friend F, sort of a christmas thing. We did that last year, went to a restaurant and then dancing, and we liked it so we did it again this year. And we liked it again.
Belgian restaurant 'Lieve' in Amsterdam. Good food (mostly, except for the fish), great conversation, so that's okay. My Good Friend F is insane, that helps.
Later, we went to the Sugar Factory, for drinking & dancing & being so cool that women would faint and men would hate us, so we drank and we danced and we were cool. And the women, well they were a bit strange. Or drunk, is a better way of putting it. No actually they were drunk and strange. At least the two that we talked to. I talked to one of them, except in the middle of a sentence she turned to My Good Friend F, and continued the conversation with him. And ignored me for the rest of the night. I mean, what? Was it something I said? My Good Friend F later ascertained that they were in fact both crazy, but he may have said that just to make me feel better.
She was pretty, too. Ah well. Apparently there's some sort of sea, and there are fish in it.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
2007: A Year In Music
Traditionally, at this time of the year, we look back at the music that gave the year so much of its character, that provided the soundtrack to our lives. What topped the charts, which newcomers found a place in our hearts, and what veteran musicians still managed to surprise us. So here it is, our selection of the musical highlights of 2007:
Not a fucking thing.
Not a fucking thing.
**..
Shit, I forgot that I forgot to activate my new credit card, old one has expired. I had just ordered eight books, and then I couldn't pay. At Amazon US by the way, UK and Germany are either more expensive or don't have what I want.
Tried to order:
Tried to order:
| Full of Secrets: Critical Approaches to Twin Peaks |
| The Soul Of A New Machine |
| The Mythical Man-Month: Essays on Software Engineering |
| Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper |
| My Story: Illustrated Edition |
| Coney Island: Lost and Found |
| How the Other Half Lives: Studies Among the Tenements of New York |
| Five Points |
**.
Nothing to say, again.
And if you've read the previous entries, you know that I usually follow up a statement like that with the saying of things. You see right through me.
I'm going to buy stuff. I told you before that I got some bonuses, and of course I'm not going to spend it all right away, but there's going to be a certain amount of getting whatever the hell I want to get.
I'm going to Amazon, brb.
And if you've read the previous entries, you know that I usually follow up a statement like that with the saying of things. You see right through me.
I'm going to buy stuff. I told you before that I got some bonuses, and of course I'm not going to spend it all right away, but there's going to be a certain amount of getting whatever the hell I want to get.
I'm going to Amazon, brb.
**
I think maybe Marilyn Monroe was a form of reconstructivist art.
Oh hi, it's Wednesday now. Just got out of bed.
Anyway, Marilyn. I find her fascinating. It seems to me that she was either completely fake or completely real.
I guess I should explain that.
Yeah, everybody really cares.
Shut up interior monologue. We're not doing that anymore.
Well, I'll just post anonymously in the comments then.
Um, yeah. You do that. Bye now.
Where was I? Marilyn Monroe. I don't think I have to point out how she may have been completely fake, you get that. But completely real? Well, she was troubled, naive, childlike, alcoholic (narcotic), in and out of love, not the kind of things you would expect from something that is a complete fabrication. Except she was a fabrication. I think she invented a persona that allowed her to completely be herself, something you can't really be in society unless you have an excuse.
I mean she was so good at presenting that image, you all know the image, that she was either a fantastic actress (non-stop, day and night) and hyper-intelligent (not unthinkable), or she just didn't have to think about it.
I think that might make her a piece of reconstructivist art. How can a person be art? Well, Marilyn was a creation of Norma Jeane Baker, completely fictional and perfect, and completely detached from Norma Jeane. And I think Andy Warhol agreed with me when he used her image to show something that he didn't actually create, it was already there. He showed Marilyn, i.e. art.
So why reconstructivist? And who cares? To answer the second question first, and very quickly, I think the idea of reconstructivist art can help us make better art, and I think we can learn from Marilyn. To answer the first question, I'll take the lazy way out and just address the points given on the website one by one. I've just looked at them, and I think this will be easy.
1. A Nod to Artifice: As with deconstructionism, a reconstructivist artwork is aware of its own status as a creation, an illusion or a fiction.
Well what can I say. Of course she was aware, she created Marilyn. She herself was the artwork.
2. A Classic Structure: Despite the inclusion of surprising or startling elements, a reconstructivist artwork is always based on a classic or conventional structure.
Absolutely. Not only was Marilyn based on what a 'star' is, she also embodied traditional ideas of what a woman should look like. Even physically, she had a classic structure.
3. Transcontextual and/or Iconic Elements: A reconstructivist artwork is literally a construct, generally made of decontextualized elements from many different sources.
If Marilyn Monroe is not an icon then I don't know what is. Concerning context, I think it is obvious that she was a fictional character, something borrowed from movies, advertising, and directly from people's imaginations (men have fantasized about women like her, she even borrowed from that).
4. Moments of Genuine Emotion or Significance: No matter how theatrical, cynical or shallow it might appear, a reconstructivist artwork must portray real emotions or inspire a genuine emotional response.
This is the whole point of my argument, I think. She was fake, she was artificial, she was made-up, and at the same time she was completely real. She had affairs, breakdowns, happiness, misery, even a tragic death. You don't fake that stuff. That was real, and emotional.
I think Marilyn Monroe was a work of art, and very good art. I'm going to buy her autobiography, it could be the best work of fiction that ever really happened.
Oh hi, it's Wednesday now. Just got out of bed.
Anyway, Marilyn. I find her fascinating. It seems to me that she was either completely fake or completely real.
I guess I should explain that.
Yeah, everybody really cares.
Shut up interior monologue. We're not doing that anymore.
Well, I'll just post anonymously in the comments then.
Um, yeah. You do that. Bye now.
Where was I? Marilyn Monroe. I don't think I have to point out how she may have been completely fake, you get that. But completely real? Well, she was troubled, naive, childlike, alcoholic (narcotic), in and out of love, not the kind of things you would expect from something that is a complete fabrication. Except she was a fabrication. I think she invented a persona that allowed her to completely be herself, something you can't really be in society unless you have an excuse.
I mean she was so good at presenting that image, you all know the image, that she was either a fantastic actress (non-stop, day and night) and hyper-intelligent (not unthinkable), or she just didn't have to think about it.
I think that might make her a piece of reconstructivist art. How can a person be art? Well, Marilyn was a creation of Norma Jeane Baker, completely fictional and perfect, and completely detached from Norma Jeane. And I think Andy Warhol agreed with me when he used her image to show something that he didn't actually create, it was already there. He showed Marilyn, i.e. art.
So why reconstructivist? And who cares? To answer the second question first, and very quickly, I think the idea of reconstructivist art can help us make better art, and I think we can learn from Marilyn. To answer the first question, I'll take the lazy way out and just address the points given on the website one by one. I've just looked at them, and I think this will be easy.
1. A Nod to Artifice: As with deconstructionism, a reconstructivist artwork is aware of its own status as a creation, an illusion or a fiction.
Well what can I say. Of course she was aware, she created Marilyn. She herself was the artwork.
2. A Classic Structure: Despite the inclusion of surprising or startling elements, a reconstructivist artwork is always based on a classic or conventional structure.
Absolutely. Not only was Marilyn based on what a 'star' is, she also embodied traditional ideas of what a woman should look like. Even physically, she had a classic structure.
3. Transcontextual and/or Iconic Elements: A reconstructivist artwork is literally a construct, generally made of decontextualized elements from many different sources.
If Marilyn Monroe is not an icon then I don't know what is. Concerning context, I think it is obvious that she was a fictional character, something borrowed from movies, advertising, and directly from people's imaginations (men have fantasized about women like her, she even borrowed from that).
4. Moments of Genuine Emotion or Significance: No matter how theatrical, cynical or shallow it might appear, a reconstructivist artwork must portray real emotions or inspire a genuine emotional response.
This is the whole point of my argument, I think. She was fake, she was artificial, she was made-up, and at the same time she was completely real. She had affairs, breakdowns, happiness, misery, even a tragic death. You don't fake that stuff. That was real, and emotional.
I think Marilyn Monroe was a work of art, and very good art. I'm going to buy her autobiography, it could be the best work of fiction that ever really happened.
*.......
So if last night was christmas eve, what's tonight?
Been reading Wikipedia, I already knew that Santa Claus and Sinterklaas (Dutch tradition) are basically the same person (St. Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of Amsterdam, Moscow, archers, children and - hey wait a minute. Earlier today Wikipedia said prostitutes, now that's gone), but apparently they are also somewhat based on Odin, who was all Germanic and in-your-face and shit.
And someone might give a fuck because...
Well interior monologue, it just so happens... Ah, no you're right, it's boring. I'll explain anyway: at work we have a programming language called Odin. God why am I even still typing.
Perhaps it's time to go to sleep.
Yeah, maybe. I'm kind of tired from not doing anything all day.
Perfect... When he's gone I can...
What?
What?
Did you say something?
No... Did you hear something?
Um... I thought, yeah, I mean...
Well I didn't say anything.
Um, okay then. Goodnight.
Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs I bought from that weird guy down the street with the terrarium...
Dude, WTF?
('Interior monologue' idea stolen from Douglas Coupland, the Gum Thief.)
(Pablo Picasso once said "Good artists borrow, great artists steal." Looks like it's time to be a great artist.)
(That last line was stolen from One over Zero.)
(Dude if I'm gonna steal, I gotta stop crediting people.)
Been reading Wikipedia, I already knew that Santa Claus and Sinterklaas (Dutch tradition) are basically the same person (St. Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of Amsterdam, Moscow, archers, children and - hey wait a minute. Earlier today Wikipedia said prostitutes, now that's gone), but apparently they are also somewhat based on Odin, who was all Germanic and in-your-face and shit.
And someone might give a fuck because...
Well interior monologue, it just so happens... Ah, no you're right, it's boring. I'll explain anyway: at work we have a programming language called Odin. God why am I even still typing.
Perhaps it's time to go to sleep.
Yeah, maybe. I'm kind of tired from not doing anything all day.
Perfect... When he's gone I can...
What?
What?
Did you say something?
No... Did you hear something?
Um... I thought, yeah, I mean...
Well I didn't say anything.
Um, okay then. Goodnight.
Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs I bought from that weird guy down the street with the terrarium...
Dude, WTF?
('Interior monologue' idea stolen from Douglas Coupland, the Gum Thief.)
(Pablo Picasso once said "Good artists borrow, great artists steal." Looks like it's time to be a great artist.)
(That last line was stolen from One over Zero.)
(Dude if I'm gonna steal, I gotta stop crediting people.)
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
*......
I added some links, to websites, on the right. Which is funny, because we call it 'links'. No, wait. 'Rechts'. We call it 'rechts' and you call it 'links'. No. Um... Oh forget it.
So I added some links. They are these:
One over Zero.
A webcomic. And a damn good one. The artist can't actually draw very well, and that helps. Apparently it's an example of 'reconstructivist art', that's how I found it.
Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal.
Another damn good webcomic! You look like the kind of girl who needs more than one.*
*What Johnny Bravo said to a girl in response to 'I already have a boyfriend'.
Boobs, Injuries, & Dr. Pepper.
One of the best names for a blog ever, together with...
What Would Tyler Durden Do.
But that's not the only reason I link to them. It's most of the reason. Boobs, Injuries, & Dr. Pepper is also well-written and amusing, and WWTDD... Boy, how am I going to explain this one. Well, first the bad news. It's all about Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan and the latest gossip about the lamest people. So how the hell can I read this? Well, it's this. The guy who writes it... Isn't stupid. I hadn't realized it before, but everybody else who writes about Britney, Paris and Lindsey is stupid. Everybody. Now that I read it back it seems obvious, but I hadn't really thought about it, didn't care I guess. But this guy is not. He's rude, blunt, ruthless and sexist (but openly, to me that makes it acceptable), but somewhere behind those rants is a smart person, and you know, we have our ways of recognizing each other. Codes and secret handshakes and the like. So ok, yes, I've been reading about Britney. I admit it! Don't look at me! Why are you looking at me like that!
Reconstructivist Art.
I may not know a lot about art, but I know what I like. And apparently, I like reconstructivist art. It's sort of a return to, let's see... "classic themes and structures, with the goal of creating works of genuine emotion and significance". Except it also "builds upon prior, deconstructionist artworks and techniques". Oh jeez, enough with the copy/paste, just click on the link already.
So I added some links. They are these:
One over Zero.
A webcomic. And a damn good one. The artist can't actually draw very well, and that helps. Apparently it's an example of 'reconstructivist art', that's how I found it.
Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal.
Another damn good webcomic! You look like the kind of girl who needs more than one.*
*What Johnny Bravo said to a girl in response to 'I already have a boyfriend'.
Boobs, Injuries, & Dr. Pepper.
One of the best names for a blog ever, together with...
What Would Tyler Durden Do.
But that's not the only reason I link to them. It's most of the reason. Boobs, Injuries, & Dr. Pepper is also well-written and amusing, and WWTDD... Boy, how am I going to explain this one. Well, first the bad news. It's all about Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan and the latest gossip about the lamest people. So how the hell can I read this? Well, it's this. The guy who writes it... Isn't stupid. I hadn't realized it before, but everybody else who writes about Britney, Paris and Lindsey is stupid. Everybody. Now that I read it back it seems obvious, but I hadn't really thought about it, didn't care I guess. But this guy is not. He's rude, blunt, ruthless and sexist (but openly, to me that makes it acceptable), but somewhere behind those rants is a smart person, and you know, we have our ways of recognizing each other. Codes and secret handshakes and the like. So ok, yes, I've been reading about Britney. I admit it! Don't look at me! Why are you looking at me like that!
Reconstructivist Art.
I may not know a lot about art, but I know what I like. And apparently, I like reconstructivist art. It's sort of a return to, let's see... "classic themes and structures, with the goal of creating works of genuine emotion and significance". Except it also "builds upon prior, deconstructionist artworks and techniques". Oh jeez, enough with the copy/paste, just click on the link already.
*.....
Just looking at those pictures I posted before, and the 'Men at Work' thing is supposed to be a moving .gif. It's supposed to show the lyrics to 'Down Under', not just the first four words.
Oh, and Del Boy, that's Derek Trotter from 'Only Fools and Horses'. Trust me, it's funny.
In fact, I'm going to look for that clip of Del in the wine bar, one of the funniest things from a sitcom ever. Wait.
Found it:
Alright, as long as I'm on Youtube, here's the second funniest thing from a sitcom that I can think of. Men Behaving Badly, it's five and a half minutes but I think it's worth it. Also from the BBC.
Oh, and Del Boy, that's Derek Trotter from 'Only Fools and Horses'. Trust me, it's funny.
In fact, I'm going to look for that clip of Del in the wine bar, one of the funniest things from a sitcom ever. Wait.
Found it:
Alright, as long as I'm on Youtube, here's the second funniest thing from a sitcom that I can think of. Men Behaving Badly, it's five and a half minutes but I think it's worth it. Also from the BBC.
*....
Someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about, on christmas day.
*...
Hey I thought of something that is more pathetic than someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about. Remember I asked about that a coupla posts before? No? You know this stuff might make more sense if you read the oldest posts first, and work your way up. But hey, your choice.
Anyway, I thought of something. That is more pathetic than someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about. It's someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about, and misspelling every other word. I mean, I'm being spell-checked right now. Apparently, 'spell-checked' is spelt correctly.
And 'spelt' isn't. I've looked it up, and 'spelt' is actually correct. It's in the dictionary. But whatever.
Once, I think it was on Fark, someone commented: "Doh! Mispelled 'bus'. Oh well." Instead of replying "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MISSPELL 'BUS'!!?!??" (I couldn't see the original post he was referring to), I chose to point out that he had also misspelled 'misspelled'. I did not suggest he refrain from procreation. Should I have?
Nah, he won't be able to figure out how it's done anyway.
Anyway, I thought of something. That is more pathetic than someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about. It's someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about, and misspelling every other word. I mean, I'm being spell-checked right now. Apparently, 'spell-checked' is spelt correctly.
And 'spelt' isn't. I've looked it up, and 'spelt' is actually correct. It's in the dictionary. But whatever.
Once, I think it was on Fark, someone commented: "Doh! Mispelled 'bus'. Oh well." Instead of replying "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MISSPELL 'BUS'!!?!??" (I couldn't see the original post he was referring to), I chose to point out that he had also misspelled 'misspelled'. I did not suggest he refrain from procreation. Should I have?
Nah, he won't be able to figure out how it's done anyway.
*..
Through the years, I've collected 214 pictures from the internet that I found funny. I'm not sure why. Sometimes I look at them. Sometimes, when I look at them, I laugh. Hey, that must be why!
Now, for a limited time only, you too can look at some of these pictures!
(Of course for a limited time. What did you think, you were going to live forever, and spend eternity looking at these pictures?)
You know, what I could use right now is a link that says 'click here to read the rest of this story' or something.
Or some inspiration, rather than having to resort to posting other people's stuff.
Oh yeah, obviously none of this is mine. I don't remember who originally made it, or where I found it. I do not own the copyright. I have no permission to post it here. Some of it may have come from Worth1000, Somethingawful or B3ta.
Oh, and the last one's not funny. Unless you have Great Taste.
Now, for a limited time only, you too can look at some of these pictures!
(Of course for a limited time. What did you think, you were going to live forever, and spend eternity looking at these pictures?)
You know, what I could use right now is a link that says 'click here to read the rest of this story' or something.
Or some inspiration, rather than having to resort to posting other people's stuff.
Oh yeah, obviously none of this is mine. I don't remember who originally made it, or where I found it. I do not own the copyright. I have no permission to post it here. Some of it may have come from Worth1000, Somethingawful or B3ta.
Oh, and the last one's not funny. Unless you have Great Taste.
*.
I sort of intended to read the bible today. You know, Jesus' birthday and all. As they say, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, so I thought I'd acquire a little knowledge.
But I didn't feel like it.
Shit, I've got absolutely nothing to say.
But I didn't feel like it.
Shit, I've got absolutely nothing to say.
.......
Is there anything more pathetic than someone listing their favorite songs or movies on a blog that less than a dozen people will ever read, and exactly zero people will give a damn about? Sure there is. I just can't think of anything right now.
Songs: These are not my all-time favorites, but what I'm into at the moment. A month from now, this list will be different. In no particular order:
The Corrs - Old Town. I was watching the documentary 'Joy Division', about, um, Joy Division, and the line 'this boy is cracking up' popped into my head. I had no idea what it was from, so when I got home I looked it up, downloaded it, and have been listening to it a lot since. Probably my favorite at the moment. Live version.
Willy DeVille (with Mark Knopfler) - Storybook Love. Again I was watching a movie. The Princess Bride this time. Loved it. Loved the music. The song is very much part of the movie, and listening to it reminds me of Buttercup and Westley, and the Dread Pirate Roberts. Which is nice.
Kim Wilde - Kids in America. Went to see Kim live a little over a month ago, and I have to say, for someone who is neither a kid nor in America... What was I gonna say? It was fucking great, man!
My Morning Jacket - Rocket Man. Dunno. Nice song, great version.
Suzanne Vega - Marlene on the Wall. I've always loved this song, well at least since it was in the charts decades ago. Only recently did I realize that I only have a live version, and I haven't heard the original in something like twenty years. So I downloaded it, listened to it, and I can recommend it. Ignore something you love for twenty years, and then go back to it. It's fun.
Songs: These are not my all-time favorites, but what I'm into at the moment. A month from now, this list will be different. In no particular order:
The Corrs - Old Town. I was watching the documentary 'Joy Division', about, um, Joy Division, and the line 'this boy is cracking up' popped into my head. I had no idea what it was from, so when I got home I looked it up, downloaded it, and have been listening to it a lot since. Probably my favorite at the moment. Live version.
Willy DeVille (with Mark Knopfler) - Storybook Love. Again I was watching a movie. The Princess Bride this time. Loved it. Loved the music. The song is very much part of the movie, and listening to it reminds me of Buttercup and Westley, and the Dread Pirate Roberts. Which is nice.
Kim Wilde - Kids in America. Went to see Kim live a little over a month ago, and I have to say, for someone who is neither a kid nor in America... What was I gonna say? It was fucking great, man!
My Morning Jacket - Rocket Man. Dunno. Nice song, great version.
Suzanne Vega - Marlene on the Wall. I've always loved this song, well at least since it was in the charts decades ago. Only recently did I realize that I only have a live version, and I haven't heard the original in something like twenty years. So I downloaded it, listened to it, and I can recommend it. Ignore something you love for twenty years, and then go back to it. It's fun.
......
A while ago I had the idea of starting a blog (Jeez, every time I type 'blog' I think of Californication) in the comments of someone else's blog. And then hoping for the parasite blog to become more popular than the host blog.
Two things are keeping me from doing that. First, I just don't have the balls. Even anonymously, on the internet. I am not proud of that. Second, I think my victim would most likely be a pussy with no sense of humor (no, not like me. I'm a pussy with a sense of humor) and would just delete it all. And that would make me sad.
Two things are keeping me from doing that. First, I just don't have the balls. Even anonymously, on the internet. I am not proud of that. Second, I think my victim would most likely be a pussy with no sense of humor (no, not like me. I'm a pussy with a sense of humor) and would just delete it all. And that would make me sad.
.....
Well, this blog sure got off to a bad start. I guess I was in a bad mood. Hey, waking up does that to me.
The thing is, yesterday, or even the day before, when I decided to start a blog, I had a lot of stuff to say. I was mailing people left and right, saying things. Today I feel different. But I still started the blog.
Well, that's all really. All blogged up and nothing to say. How sad.
Oh, and it's christmas. Everything that's sad to start with gets like twenty times sadder at christmas. Example: Last night I went to a bar, for a drink and something to eat. I had no idea it was christmas eve by the way, that had just completely escaped me. Until I walked into the bar. It was an Irish pub by the way, in Amsterdam, and the atmosphere was just completely tragic. Mostly empty but for some expats staring into their pints of lager, Mariah Carey and Wham on the stereo (and 'Thank God It's Christmas', was Freddy Mercury insane?), and me, ordering food in a bar like the lonesomest guy on earth. I ate in silence, drank, smoked, and tried very hard to suppress a huge grin. I was enjoying it immensely.
Now I have to say I was already feeling pretty good because I had just learned that day that I was going to get a few thousand euros more in bonuses from my job than I had expected. A few thousand. Now if winning at Monopoly is nice, then this is very nice. Also I had just had a few drinks with a friend of mine, so I wasn't feeling particularly lonely. But still, drinking alone in a bar on christmas eve, it was quite an intense experience. And funny as hell.
Hey look, I did have something to say.
The thing is, yesterday, or even the day before, when I decided to start a blog, I had a lot of stuff to say. I was mailing people left and right, saying things. Today I feel different. But I still started the blog.
Well, that's all really. All blogged up and nothing to say. How sad.
Oh, and it's christmas. Everything that's sad to start with gets like twenty times sadder at christmas. Example: Last night I went to a bar, for a drink and something to eat. I had no idea it was christmas eve by the way, that had just completely escaped me. Until I walked into the bar. It was an Irish pub by the way, in Amsterdam, and the atmosphere was just completely tragic. Mostly empty but for some expats staring into their pints of lager, Mariah Carey and Wham on the stereo (and 'Thank God It's Christmas', was Freddy Mercury insane?), and me, ordering food in a bar like the lonesomest guy on earth. I ate in silence, drank, smoked, and tried very hard to suppress a huge grin. I was enjoying it immensely.
Now I have to say I was already feeling pretty good because I had just learned that day that I was going to get a few thousand euros more in bonuses from my job than I had expected. A few thousand. Now if winning at Monopoly is nice, then this is very nice. Also I had just had a few drinks with a friend of mine, so I wasn't feeling particularly lonely. But still, drinking alone in a bar on christmas eve, it was quite an intense experience. And funny as hell.
Hey look, I did have something to say.
....
Finished the book. The Gum Thief, by Douglas Coupland.
BTW, I was wrong, I can only see the mail address myself. Google, I apologize. I guess I'm a bit paranoid.
BTW, I was wrong, I can only see the mail address myself. Google, I apologize. I guess I'm a bit paranoid.
..
Ok, fuck it. Whatever. I suppose I could have created an alternative gmail account for this, although I tried and the damn thing wouldn't let me, don't know why. But I'm pretty clever, I could have found a way. I guess I've decided it's not worth the trouble though.
So Google has been making decisions for me, and so far I'm not liking it much. I'm surprised I'm allowed to say fuck, which is probably why I've been saying it so much.
So Google has been making decisions for me, and so far I'm not liking it much. I'm surprised I'm allowed to say fuck, which is probably why I've been saying it so much.
.
Oh fuck. Is it really necessary to have my mail address right there for every moron to see? I like to keep that thing private, light on the spam and all. I was afraid that might happen, with the whole Google-world-domination-connect-everything-with-everything bullshit.
Fuck, I'm gonna see if I can't get that thing off of there.
Fuck, I'm gonna see if I can't get that thing off of there.
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