Re: Re: Im free now.

Hola friend.
I refused to keep living that way it would be insane to ignore this now I stay on top of my game you can have a chance too
http://www.xchat.ru/go.php?ludel&36gig=twitter.com&36nopi=google.com&url=http://9moment-business-feeds.ru/profile/
see you soon.

Some fun with computerpainting...

How dirty old guys refuse to behave...like we expect

The past always seams better than it really was, looking back. We remember the sunny days of summer, and forget it was actually one weekend of 30 degrees Celsius in a summer full of rain. Life seemed simpler, and people had clearly defined roles in live.You had communists, and they were bad and scary. And there was us, and we were the Good and Righteous.Then the Berlin wall fell, and Russia was no longer so scary. But we established new enemies in other continents, and found again countries that were so (Axis of) Evil, that we were still the Good and Righteous.

The same comforting mechanism was applied to sinners and saints. You had the good folks (the Good and Righteous ), and the guys who were printing dirty magazines, and they were bad.

And then Hustler's Larry Flint and Palyboy's Hugh Hefner decided to give everybody a real shock. First Larry was buying the nude photo's of a US female soldier, who was abducted and heroically saved by her troop in the Gulf War. Of course he would, the dirty old man. Unfortunately, he decided to buy them cause he did not want them to be published, since he reckoned it wasn’t decent to do that to a War hero. Talk about screwing with the publics perceptions of somebody.
And then Hef decided, he’d show the world how to be a player in het 'Girls from playboy Mansion'show. The man is almost 80, and lives with three girlfriends in the same house. He sleeps with all of them. And they all live happily together. Of course, if you have the reputation of Hef, and the money, and the Playboy mansion, there will always be loads of girls who will be happy to live under your roof, drive your sports cars and go to parties with you. But one would expect from most guys who live like that, that they treat the girls like expendable user objects. Hugh doesn’t, at least not on camera. In every scene he treats his girls like he is honoured that they keep him company. Of course this is a case of 'iron fist in a velvet glove’, cause everybody knows he can replace them in a second, should he choos to do so. So he never has to remind anybody of this. And they never behave in a way, that he has this desire. Clearly, the world missed a great chance last week. When voting for a new head of the UN, they should have asked Hef. Ask any married man, for a person who can get three girlfriends living under the same roof to behave, bringing peace to the Middle East is a piece of cake.

Red Tomato day

Elections can lead to strange things. For instance, I was offered a styrofoam tomato-cutout at the train station this morning. Not so shockeng, since the party that was trying to winn my sympathy has a red tomato as a symbol, being of the very socialist type of parties. But the inplications of this gift gave me a very warm feeling.

Now let it be noted that in general, I concider socialism of the more extreme type very suited for students and other youthfull types that don't have enough property to be a kapitalist. Somebody once said, (and I cann't remember who, but I can remember it was no fool) that is perfectly alright to be a leftie if you're twenty, but that it is very worying if you are still a leftie when you are forty.

Still, that 50 year old activist that handed me that foam tomato made me warm inside. Cause this was a perfect example of a political party living up tho their beliefs. Of coarse, at the end of the day, the sation will be littered with foam-tomatoes, thrown aside by travelers. So if you are a poor, unemployed person that cann't even afford Chrismas decorations, all you need to do is collect them, buy a can of gold spay paint, paint them gold, stick them on a thread and there you have it, free Christmas spirit, from the socialist party.
I'd almost vote for them. Unfortunatly, I have a house and a job, so I cann't afford voting them.

Out of place

I just returned from a visit to Russia. And even though I understand the language, and speak enough to get around, I felt very out of place.
Since it was seven years ago I've been there, I cann't realy say if it was worse than the last time. But I do know something, I feel strange in a place where nobody speaks English, and you cann't find an English paper to save your life. That should say something about me to.
But what?
I have already accepted that I do not quite fit in my country. I do not want anyway. It would stop me from my development as an artist to be tied to one nation. So am I pretentious, trying to hide the reality of my nine to five reality, posing as an artist?
Traditionaly that should also mean that I donn't realy like being married and being a father. But I like that aspect of my live very much. So that's a load of bull anyway.
So writing a blog while playing Elvis Costello in Winamp is my alternative reality? Maybe, I can think of worse things to do.
So tomorrow I will clean some rabbit cages, and start drawing them, cause we want to make a bunny calendar for next year. I've got a rabbit that's called Terminator, that has killed a rat when he was young, and recently atacked a pigeon that tried to steal his food (he puth his teeth in his wing, and that nearly killed him also). He needs to go to the animal dentist, cause his teeth are growing so fast, he can hardly eat anymore. We checked if our veterinarian is on the list of rabbit friendly guys, as published by a rabbit hugging club with a huge website.
Live is grand.

Email hazards

Workplace romances are dangerous. The drama after the inevitable break-up, trying to hide it from other co-workers and/or your partner at home... Not for me. Of course, I can see the adventure in it, and I heard that having a quickie in the office supply room is really exiting, and that it adds another dimension to the game if you Xerox your partners but while doing the deed, but I never found the time for that. Can’t be bothered. As far as I now at least.

Cause one time at a previous company, somebody used my emailacount/adress to send some steamy emails to an attractive female co-worker of mine, with apparently some very interesting suggestions. I guess I was lucky, cause she was actually interested. I mean., she didn't report me for sexual intimidation. Instead, she let me know at a personnel meeting that she was potentially interested in my proposals.
I guess it takes a better man than me to look very intelligent, when a woman tells you that she didn't mind those x-rated mails you were sending (that you didn't), and was considering too perform the lewd acts that you tried her to perform. The proposals you never made. (Trust me, in a situation like that, your mind will project a stream of ideas that would be shocking to any age group, and get you jailed in most countries. This does not help you look like you don’t have a clue what she is talking about. Even if you really don’t have a clue)
In the end I managed to convince her that the mails were not send by me.
That was the last thing I heared about it. As far as identity theft goes, it is not a shocking tale. No obvious harm was done, no credit cards pillaged.

Maybe. Cause when tried to get back to that company, I received a rather cold standard letter saying I didn't fit the profile. From a person that I used to know, so for all I know, I am known there as the guy who sends out proposals to co-workers for some after hours spanking sessions on the reception desk (to be booked as overtime, of course). Now if I was in a profession like fashion or advertising, or TV (preferably the Italian broadcasting system), I could at least entertain myself by picturing this when I am bored.
I work IT.

Rabbit watching

It is official, I exist. I have my first comment on a Captain Fabulous posting!!!! Granted, somebody came to my blog hoping to find some usefull information about rabbits, not to indulge in my cutting edge satire, but he/she seemed to enjoy the read. So, that is completly in the purpose of this blog, to be fun for both writer and reader.
Since we live in commercial times, I'll post another rabbit piece soon. After all, when you think about it, there are many people blogging out there, all hoping to be discovered. And probably loads of them think they are funny. But how many out there have seven rabbits, without any intention of using them in the kitchen, take time every day to observe them and have secret dreams of doing to rabbit observation what Desmond Morris did to human watching? That just might be my corner of the market!

Rabbits; Terminator

Terminator earned his name when as a young rabbit, he killed a rat that came into his cage. At least, we think he did, we found a dead young rat with his throat bitten in his cage one morning. Unfortunatly, this event made him aware of the fact that he can use his teeth against any intruders, and since then he cann't be trusted not to bite us either.
Of course, he doesn't bite because he like to hurt us, he just doesn't understand he is not supposed to do it. Because of our "successfull" family planning, we had two litters in a row, and he was separated from his mother rather young because of this (and from his brothers and sisters, cause we gave them away quickly knowing a second wave was coming). So he was alone in a cage, and became possesive of his territory. And his signal for "you're invading my private space (something entering his cage or touching him)" became a quick bite.
So in a way, he is the victim of a neglected childhood. Of course, it is a nuisance that we have to be carefull when we feed him, or when we take him out of his cage we have to watch our fingers, but it's a minor inconvenience.
He lookes so much like his late father that we forgive him almost everything.
You can get to his soft side if you stick some grass through the wires of his cage, so he can eat from your hands (protected from his teeth). Then the rough guy becomes a responsive, affectionate annimal that seems to understand the concept of time, in a way that he understands that he is receiving your time, that you could also have spend with another rabbit. But you choose him, and he appreciates that.

Rabbits 2; The family tree

(These stories are about our rabbits. Right now, we have the mother and 6 of her children with us. It's like a private minizoo I gues, but they give so much fun and inspiration, that you can call it what you want,I don't care. They live in "rabbit central" a collection of cages in our back garden we made ourselfs from materials lying around from repairing the house.)

The family tree of our rabbit family(1st litter was also 5, but we managed to give al but one away)

Vincent (m) (1999 - 2005) x Sneezjinka (f)

Children:

Terminator (m)
Shirhan aka 'threecolours' (m)
Rizjik (m)
Masha (f)
Dasha (f)
Grijsje (m)

Vincent:

Bearded rabbit, grey-brown fur with a white chest.
For several years, he was the only rabbit in the house. He was allowed to walk in the room every evening, and always behaved perfect. He was a perfoming artist who created his own version of the 'cups and bals' trick, without balls. This is how it worked: if we put some bright colored plastic cups of different size on the bench in front of him, he would take them in his mouth, and stack them on top of each other.
For some reasson he liked to lick the tip of my nose, whenever I put my face close to him.
A special treat was to gently scratch his ears. sadly we lost him last year after an operation on his mouth.