Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Fucking HILARIOUS!!!!

I am officially a fan of Urban Dictionary:
Just check out this one:
(I know it's a bit teenager but nonetheless inspiring)

(Post about Emo-punk or Emo ...)

An entire subculture of people (usually angsty teens) with a fake personality. The concept of Emo is actually a vicious cycle that never ends, to the utter failing of humanity.

Emo life-cycle:
1. Girls say they like "sensitive guys" (lie)
2. Guy finds out, so he listens to faggy emo music and dresses like a dork so chicks will see that he is sensitive and not afraid to express himself (lie). He dyes his hair black, wraps himself in a stupid looking scarf, develops an eating disorder, and rants about how "nobody understands".
3. Now an emo guy, he meets Emo chick and they start dating, talking about how their well-off suburban lifestyles are terrible and depressing (lie)
4. Emo guy is just too much of a pussy. His penis is too small, he's too depressed to bathe, and has more mood swings than emo chick, and he doesn't even have a menstrual cycle. Emo chick dumps him, saying "It's not you, it's me." (lie) as she drives off with Wayne, the school jock and captain of the football team.
5. Emo guy goes home and cries, proceeds to write a weak song and strum a single string on his acoustic guitar. Another emo chick sees how he is so in touch with his feelings, and the cycle continues.

And still another one:

Punk music on estrogen.

....and another one:

Like a Goth, only much less dark and much more Harry Potter.

....and still another one:

A musical genre/ scene that has almost 1000 definitions in urban dictionary most of which are making fun of it.

Something that all stereotypes agree on they hate.

And for the grand finale,
How to be EMO:


Wear only skinny jeans or old, crappy, tight, cut-up jeans. Wear tight shirts that you can barely get over your head. If after getting dressed you can't breathe and look like a hobo, you've done it right. No shoes but low-top Converse or slip-on Vans are acceptable. Anything out of Hot Topic will do.

Dye your hair with the cheapest, least-convincing black dye you can find. Nothing over 99 cents. Fix it so that you look like you just rolled out of bed then walked through a hurricane and lost a fight with a lawn mower.

Peirce everything you can reach, and put in the largest, ugliest rings you can find.

Dark, thick makeup is key in the emo world. Never leave the house without putting on globs and globs of badly-put-on black eyeliner. Extreme amounts of bright pink eyeshadow is optional.

Now that we've covered the emo look, it's time to teach you to act the part of an emo, so the others won't think of you as a poser.

Flip your hair vigorously every ten seconds. If your neck is broken at the end of the day, good job.

Whine about your pathetic life every chance you get, (twice as much if your parents are divorced) but never reveal that you live in saburbia. If asked where you reside, say something emo like, "The depths of living hell", "The home of sorrow", or some other pussy shit like that.

Always have your MySpace mood set to "apathetic," and make sure to have about 986730865734567349576 pictures of yourself with extremely emo captions that have plenty of X's. It is necessary to be a MySpace whore, and to beg for picture comments in a bulletin every ten minutes.

Only listen to emo bands such as Dashboard Confessional, My Chemical Romance, ect. If there is an extremely popular emo band at your school, say that you like them even if you don't.

Make it widely known that you cut yourself every night with a razorblade while listening to emo music. If ever asked why, say something stupid like, "I cut myself to stay ALIVE! You would NEVER understand!" Then run away crying, even if you are not upset.

Finally, always deny that you are emo. Claim to be scene, goth, or a "non-conformist." But always keep in mind that you are, and always will be, a pussy little emo fag.
Emo kid: My life is a big black whole of sorrow and nothingness. My razorblade is the only thing that lets me know I am still alive.

Normal kid: Fuck you, emo.

Emo kid: Oh em gee! I'm not emo! I'm SCENE!

Normal kid: What's the difference?

Emo kid: You don't UNDERSTAND! Why does nobody get me!?!?! *Runs away crying and cutting himself, preparing to post this event on his blog.*

Definitions #1

I'm getting more and more nervous regarding the lack of posts in this blog. Well actually is more than that... It's the hassle that comes along with it (you know, having to think about it and eventually mix it up with a fairly good amount of cretinism... that takes its time doesn't it?)

I came up with the coolest of writers' block antidote ever (I know it's been up for some years now, but it's still pretty cool nevertheless)

http://www.urbandictionary.com/

Well, well, well....

I'll be posting some semi-random definitions, followed by a brief commentary of my own.
All of you boys, girls, trans-genders and coolies of the sort can then post your insights on them, and even come up with some new ones...

So......
The first one is

Neo-goths
My definition : major wankers with a music taste resembling their dressing costumes and possessors of an imported sense of disdain or hatred-like feeling towards everything that can make one smile once and a while.

U.Dic. definition:
Dresses in only the worst hot-topic fashions pulled straight from shitty animes. A Neo-goths tell tale sign is the possession of bondage pants, I.E. those fucking hot topic pants with all the chains on them, you know the ones. Constantly quotes anime and acts likes a generally hyper little tard, probably fat, ugly or both.

Now go for it dudes and dudettes!!

The gig...

... that never happened just might be one more step closer to reality.
I'm getting more and more itchy about some stuff that I keep feeding but end up by not moving an inch to actually make happen.

Yesterday I started doing something about it:
- I will fix my desktop computer to turn it into a proper DAW. No shit, no flicks, no shennanigans.

Future steps:
-Format the bitch!
-Recover all tracks, finished or non-finished.
-Use the already made bits of tunes and refurbish them.

Steps to avoid:
-Start one-night-shot-tracks that end up summing to the already highly saturated bag of "unfinished business".
-Same as the above but done "under the influence".
-Re-watching movies that I've already seen countless times.
-Re-stop watching TV at night (It's an utter waste of time anyway)

Goals and milestones:
-At least one live performance (a.k.a. GIG) up and running until spring-break 2009.

Needs:
-Motivation, motivation, motivation;
-Self-confidence;

In the end, the motto for all of this is -and I quote - "I want to believe"

I will eventually post some of the aforementioned achievements in the near future...
..as they come along.
.....if they come along

Friday, August 29, 2008

Smartass

Long gone are the times where ethics meant shit.
Nowadays, ethics could well be the name of a one-hit wonder from an electro-pop from the late 80's, or even a forgotten brand of sneakers that bankrupted when his owner left 30- something badly paid workers on the doe and left for India searching for spiritual enlightenment.
The only way I imagine ethics to work is exactly in your smartass scheme to get somewhere or something that you wouldn't normally deserve based only on your grace-state and merit.
One needs to maintain a rigid still adaptable level of cynical judgment, at all times, in all circumstances... and that my dear one-brain lobe-using-friends, needs hard-edged ethical behaviour.

Think about it!!!

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Hurry boy!!!

It's mindbending how much time is wasted in dreaming of things to be.
So hurry!!
Hurry boy if you don't wan't to crank your neck to watch the trains pass by, one after the other.
Be honest boy, and hurry. Fasten your pace and run, boy!
Make sure you don't end up running backwards...
Look at it, Boy!! just need to look at it, a short glimpse, you don't need to stare.
Don't let your feet get cold, boy.
Run! Run, I say!

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Nothing in particular .... (part 2)

Continuing the "worst night out in Lisbon" in my post-France era, I realised that I didn't want to finish this post.
I called it a "part 2" just because I didn't wat to let any of my hard-core fans with their trousers mid-way through their legs.

I also realised that long posts are a little bit like sex:
1-One can praise quantity over quality... (frequent action-packed short bursts of witty sentences);
2-One can praise quality over quantity... (long in-deep analysis with discernible stages scoping from a soft build-up to full scale explosion of ideas and epiphanies)

I tend to prefer the latter (both in sex and writing), but if confrontated with the possibility of the first, I will definitively take my chances...(you just need to cross your fingers and hope for the best)

Just to keep track of the post title, I'll just take a few words to describe how one can read between the lines and finally grasp the complex weaving of this imense loom that we, so wondrously call the fabric of emotions that dwelve in the world of warehouse modern rave parties. Parties like this suck big time!!!

I'm going to get a blast of shockwaves tomorrow, and I'm just not in the mood of continuing to discuss a crap party experience. I am officially over it, just like the Dandys.

By the way... I'm shit scared of getting my kidney blown off by one "off-the-target" shot.
I' m having these visions of a doctor reassuring me about his precision targeting system, and simultaneously remembering of Koweit and Iraq....
And worse than getting my kidney ending up a civil casualty of my urologist convictions in technology, is the fact that I'll be pissing sharpnels for the following week!!!
That's just about the most uncool subject to talk about if you end up getting a date on the following days... just imagine the look on her face when you told her that beside the blood there's also some not-so-tiny pointy solid rocks that could come out in any given situation!!!
I should keep a mental note on when to start this subject in the following days from the cirgury.






Well, that's it

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Nothing in particular...part 1

Remember the hard-etc...etc..-party night?

Well, I do!
It was utter crap!
It was a major K crap!!!!
Why is that when you actually do some forward planning toward a binge-drinking buddy night, it turns out to be - most often - a shot in the foot?
I went to a so called "Digital art and electronic music festival" .... yeah there was some digital in it, but there wasn't anything remotely similar to art and even less to what I usually call a festival.
The musical thematic was supposed to be minimal techno.... According to my point of view it was a full-blown-out techno affair where the epithet of minimal should have been addressed to to the audience in assistance: 2:45 am and the massive attendance was of approximately 25 mislead individuals, already counting with the DJs families and closest of friends.
Mix that with a acute crisis of party deprivation and a larger than life willingness to have fun , and what do you get... beside the excruciating headache from a crap sound system in a seemingly useless warehouse where this gathering of wastefuls' took place? Let me tell you in a kindly manner: an unbearable sense of frustration for having to have paid for it!!!!
It's already bad when a Dj sucks, but when the sucking DJ - who is supposedly one of the more acclaimed in that particular genre - is playing for 10 basket cases is just too much to handle! I'll take the chance to make a witty remark about an older couple that clearly chose the wrong set of drugs for the event.... the poor bastards.. I think they were on their way to the Yellow Submarine filming locations... and speeding to it, most definitively!!
Yours truly was in such a mood that if the end of world hunger was officially announced at that particular occasion, I would probably complain about the cold.
But let us hold a little bit to the fabulous albeit monotonous world of minimal techno.
I'm starting to think that there are some guys in the music industry that really really would love to edit a record or be known for their musical (in)ability... so what do you do when you can't produce a good record in your preferable or favorite style?? You create a new one!!!!
If done properly you can eventually excel at it!
So.. now one can imagine the dude in his studio, banging the new Dj Superstar onto his head wandering why can't he.... the dude..... in the studio..... create a bangin' track??
Fuck that! he says. I'm starting the same track as Dj Whatshisname but without the complicated parts (that he can't achieve to produce, of course) and claiming a new esthetically sound manifest, he declares triumphantly: That's it!!! I'm now doing minimal-whatever (the second term doesn't really matter that much).

(to be continued....)