Brewing Beer, KICKBALL, biking, art in many forms, dance parties, drinking Belgian beer, hanging my good cloths to dry,throwing garbage at the night trains, jokes that make me giggle, petting cats, groceries, Pictures, Kickball , Soccer, high fives, dodgeball, Brouwers Cafe, Stumbling Monk, pool and snooker, snowboarding when there's snow, thinking about studying. Conquistadores, flags, traveling to far away places to learn other ways in which to live, rationalizing my life from a different perspective. Tips, mental disorders, and cleanliness. Love, friendship, kickball, Goodwill, bowling, cats (Rudi).
Thanks Seth.
Once apon a time there was an little Irishman. He lived in a little Irish village and had a little Irish job. When he went home from his little Irish work day (for it is well known the Irish are lazy) he would watch a little Irish television (aka a tree stump), and before retiring to a little Irish bed he would furiously stroke his little Irish shillaely.
On his 25th birthday during his third daily drinking binge (for the Irish eat none but potatos and wiskey) he had an epiphany. "I am tired of my little Irish existence and I must do something to change it!" said the plastered mick.
Then with no plan what-so-ever and nothing but a few wiskey-soaked wood chips (for that is what the Irish use for money), he went off to South-East Asia (for the people there are only a few feet taller than the Irish).
When he arrived in Thailand he immediately began to look for his sustaining wiskey and potatoes. However he soon discovered, to his dismay, that all there was to eat were vegetables and snake meat.
Soon his inefficient Irish metabolism began to break down, and he became delerious. Within minutes a group of lurking lady-boys were deep inside our little Irish protaganist.
He stuggled against their superior Asian penises but to no avail. Without his potatoes he had no lepracaun powers and without wiskey he had no Irish stench (which is their most powerfull rape deterrent).
Just as the little Irishman was about to give up hope and lose all bowel control, a ray of hope appeared in the form of a great, handsome, and rather pleasant smelling Englishman. The lady-boys bent there necks sunward to see their massive assailant, but his bulging crotch was as far up as they could see. With a great, manly and unmistakeably staight laugh the Englishman swept the lady-boys away and scooped up our diminutive friend into his masculine arms.
Being both a scholar and a gentleman the Englishman taught the Irishman about the strengthening powers of crumpets and tea, and that one should bathe at least twice a year. Then with a YO HO HO! and a thundering guffa he launched our little friend all the way back to the safety of Ireland with just a flick of his well toned wrist.
The moral of this wimsical and non-fictional tale is...
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!!
Point Break (best ever), The Crow, Evil Dead trilogy, Welcome to Hell, Spanish Prisoner, Ernest goes to Camp, Documentries, Baraka, Tommy Boy, Happy Gilmore, Koyanasquatsi [sic?], Three Amigos, Kubrick (Clockwork Orange, 2001, Full Metal Jacket), Micheal Moore, Leon The Perfestional, Pee Wee Movies, Usual Suspects, 2 fast and 2 furious. Most recent good movies: Waking Life, Paradise Now, Capote, Walk the Line, Point Break (again). Dark days, murderball, Rize (can y'all Krump, I know you can Opal), Fog of War, The Departed, Born into Brothels, A very long engagement, High Cost of Low Prices (Wal-Mart), Brokeback Mountain (watched with family, and my Dad couldn't stomach), The Secret,
In Hong Kong there is an entire channel devoted to Quake 3 (PC game) battles.
Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures.
! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KaZuBziWLgk
David Deida books. Art of Possibilty.
Draft beer, not people.