I have thought of two different funny posts but I don't feel like being funny. I will be funny some time in the future, when the stars are right. In the past days the stars are right only for biting off people's heads. Judging by their behavior, they don't need them anyway. They are just empty spaces, well aired and with plenty of light inside, due to their ears and eyes.
It is amazing. I work at the kiosk. Some guy in his sixties comes whenever he walks his dog and tells me he is the son of god, this is why he will be elected Prime Minister. It is valid the other way round too, from what he says. He will become Prime Minister and this proves he is the son of god. He gets very insulted if I don't agree, so I agree. He also tells me he will make sure I start working in the TV. Okay.
Another thing that defies my common sense. I sell chocolates at the kiosk. The weather has the tendency to change from one day to the next, from cool to rather hot or even stifling. So I had not stored the chocolates in the fridge yet. A lady comes, buys a chocolate and after one minute returns it and tells me "this chocolate is soft". Yes madam, chocolate has the tendency to be soft when the weather is hot, dunno why your brain cannot inform you this is the case. Unless it is not chocolate and it is cement or soap neatly wrapped in a chocolate wrapper, CHOCOLATE WILL BE SOFT WHEN IT IS ALMOST THIRTY FUCKING CELSIUS DEGREES OUT THERE! Does it take more than half a fuckhead's brain to realise this? Unless you expect YOUR chocolate in particular to be an exception to this universal rule. Don't know how this is achieved. Perhaps with a negative gravity field installed in each separate chocolate, with tachyons running around to keep YOUR chocolate cool and dandy. If you find out how the hell this is done, I am interested. I want to install one such system exactly between my legs, to keep my pussy cool and well-aired. There are days in the summer that if I remove my underwear and wring it, I can fill a bucket with the sweat. So it would be perfect. I can already visualise the effect. The gentle breeze making all those cobwebs down there fly like white sheets, washed and placed on the line. All we need is Monica Belucci placing those sheets on the line and we have an Italian drama for the next century. But this is just a humble kiosk and not NASA, so I would appreciate it if you did not expect chocolates to behave like insistent hard-ons when the heat is abnormal even for Amazon Indians. Is this too much to grasp?
I hate summertime. I hate the heat. The sun is kicking my retinas as if it's trying to score for the World Cup. Everything stinks. The garbage bins stink, my dogs stink, people stink. They are too manly for deodorant in this country. You walk into the bus and there is an array of exposed armpits waiting to get you, due to their owners happily holding the roof handles. It's like walking into the Prom of Ninja Academy. Silent and deadly, all of them, gathered to make you pay. Attacking you relentlessly, mercilessly. You can even smell their lunch in the armpit odor. Garlic. Salami. Onion. A true joyride. WHY? Why spend the summer in Greece to have every idiot kung fu my nostrils because he had an argument with his bathtub? And when I finally go home and lie exhausted on the warm sheets, my nine kilo (twenty pounds) fluffy orange tom cat comes and sits on my face. NO. Absolutely NOT. I am not Hugh Hefner and you aren't the 2009 Playmate, mate. Go sit somewhere else. Like the other end of the room in the exact opposite part of the house. You are adorable but too hot.
BETRAYAL! This is, after all, a funny post.
I need to get laid. I need to get laid. I need to get laid. You wouldn't have been able to tell, would you now?
LOL, no, I wouldn't!!
ReplyDeleteAnd you're fucking damned right!! Those people... LOL!!
I can imagines you in your house near a lake, talking to any interviewer, moving your hands n the ir, like if you was doing any kinda kung fu tricks. LOL, I can imagine ya, in that same house, in a sunny day, talking, moving your hands... Bragging about this kinda matters, like if it was a story... People would think it's an awesome story and then they realise they're the characters in that particular story...
I have smoked weed, but I am just allowed to set my imagination freer than in any situation and put them down...
Thnk you, my darling, for letting me know that my brains are still available to do something. And thanks for funny moment, but of course: IT'S NOT FUNNY!! XD
Well, I just don't want to mke ya feel bad about that it's just my imgination flowing away!!
ReplyDeleteI love ya, you know that!! :)
*black roses*
As long as you aren't getting laid by a man with body odour like salami, onions and garlic! >.<
ReplyDeleteI would like to point out your IGNORANCE for the deodorant plot that the dark forces residing deep inside the armpit forest have orchestrated. It is that very conspiracy that keeps deodorants from working. You might wonder what the dark forces' intentions are... I wonder too... It is that very question that keeps me sleepless at night, spraying my left armpit (that's the armpit on my greek side) with axe and comparing it to the armpit on the right, turkish, side of my body. It could be punishment brought down to greek men for abandoning the ancient Gods or that the forces were hired by deodorant companies to increase sales, since a larger amount of deodorant is now required to keep the average greek armpit smell on normal levels.
ReplyDeleteLastly, I wish to mention the connection of the armpit conspiracy to the fart spell. The spell that gave rise to the saying: "Ο καθένας την κλανιά του, μοσχολίβανο την έχει"... Obviously the spell keeps the one who releases the fart into the world from realizing the deadliness of his work.
But despair not my fair lady, for the Prophet will come to bring the Deodorant of Youth back to the human kind and release the armpits of the greek people from this evil spell. We can only pray that his coming is nigh...