One Plus One Makes A Fat Man

Dear diary,

Last night I dreamed of being on a train with my friends. There was us, our suitcases and the red comfortable cheap ass seats.In our carriage I also met another friend of mine. But we didn't get to stay in the same carriage for long because a drunk in the same carriage started being stupid and I started talking and he punched me in the mouth. Then I started bleeding but I kept on talking as my friends were laughing and telling me to stop and were trying to drag me away from the drunktard who by that time had a firm grip of my wrists and was just slurring muddled words in my face as I was bleeding. Finally, we got dragged by a security guard in another carriage. By that time people were getting in the train from the roof trying to not get caught at the ticket control.

Then we decided we'd get off. Then once we were out of the train me and that friend of mine shared our waving goodbyes and smiles. Then another guy came up to me and was trying to sell me a stolen chair while the roof of the train was packed with people digging holes and winking at me as they were trying to get in.

Surprisingly I had stopped bleeding by that time which is cool I guess. I still had my bags and my friends who I was traveling with at the first place though and then just cause I didn't want to buy that chair from that guy he wanted to punch me and then I woke up before I start talking more crap to him and get punched in again.

Hip hip hooray?

No serious stuff yet. I'll see yah laterz peoplez and stay true. And take your vitamins. And eat your veggies.

Let's Take A Crap On The Blogosphere

Since it's past midnight and I should be long asleep by now but I'm not, I decided to post a game that I used to play when I used to go for coffee a year ago.

So this is what came up from this game:

I want to find a bar where whiskey is cheaper than beer
I want to see Mother Teresa having to help someone and sneer
I want to find a place where being stabbed could feel nice
I want to find a place where people aren't as scared as mice
I want to read all the books in the world and then write my own
I want to convince the world that cats are better than dogs
I want to ask all the questions that a 2 year old wants to ask
but not being able to talk holding him back
I want to know if people would trade their skin
for an expensive suite or dress from the cover of an art magazine
I want to see all the pimps bow before their whores
and finally I want to find and name all the other things that I can't think of now

Now do your own. A real less crappy entry will come soon.

TO WRITE A HIT SONG

Hi there, before I go ahead and start with today's lecture, I'd like to tell you to go read “Wolf At The Table” by Augusten Burroughs and “Sunset Limited” by Cormac McCarthy.

Also, sometimes when I'm out with my friends all I want to say is “dude remember that time when we went to that show” or “dude remember when we rolled that wheel at 4 am drunk, spending our last money on beers for the road as we were walking back a 45 minutes to an hour walk back home?” or “this is what I actually want to say instead of this lame ass joke...” but all it comes out is “hey, how about another shot?” or “I'm going to get another drink...want another one?” So from lack of better words I come out as an idiot. But the thing is that like a five year old I come up with the right lines long after the right time,so I'd like to point out, I'm no good with words unless I have to and then I only try. To quote one of my favorite bands: "you know what I wanna say but I can't get it out."

Anyway, today I didn't have to go to “work” and no one told me, but I still have work to do but I'll postpone it for tomorrow to give you some tips on how to write a hit song. A song that will make your friends look up to you, your parents stop hitting you and your neighbors to want you to go out with their pretty daughter. Basically it will open a brand new world for you.

So, get your pens and paper out and get ready to take notes. Ready? Alright alright...Okay, I'm going to start now.

Right first off all, if you want to write a hit song you've got to think love first. A love song is always a hit song. It makes young girls wet and guys want to learn it and play it on acoustic guitar, so they can make their girls wet. Did you write that down? Love song. Don't worry it doesn't have to be complicated.

Alright, there are a few samples out there for the perfect love song, but for chrissake do not look at “Nickelback” for any kind of song. They might be cheesy but even the most insecure girl will call you a whimp. Make sure you repeat the words “baby”, “girl”, “love”, “eyes” etc and also make sure to have the back up vocals agreeing with every line you say, see Justin Bieber's “Baby” song for example. “Uh huh”'s and “alright”s and “yeah”s will do the work just fine.

Now, remember, repeat the words “love”, “eyes”, “baby”, “girl”, and vary from chords from G, C, D, A, AM. Do not put any complicated words in it. You don't want your girl to start searching thesaurus to see what you mean.

So for example, it could go like this “yeah baby...your eyes back up vocals uh huh etc etc”

That was all, now go and break some hearts, I'm going to make something to eat you can thank me later.

Captain Iglo Calling

The other day I received an email from the lady that I had interviewed, asking me if I would like to help the office out with a research they’re making and get paid. I accepted, so now I’m an hour away from my first “day” at work. My work entails calling other Greek people up who graduated from the University I’m currently in and asking them what they’re up to now that they are the proud holders of a University degree.

So, that being said it goes without saying that this is going to be a fast entry.
Alright, so as I was in the library researching for one of my assignments, as good students do, when I decided that I wanted a hot drink. Having drunk 4 cups of coffee already today I thought of going for something else. Tea.

Some months ago I was at my best friend’s house and he had all these flavours of tea and I must admit I fell for the vanilla/caramel one like a little teenage girl fell for Justin Bieber when he first got on T.V. Pathetic I know but I had forgotten about it and today I thought, “why not..I’m going to check what tea-flavours they have at the canteen.”

But here’s where trouble begins. I see that they have the vanilla flavour that I’m after, so I’m going to the man behind the counter and say “may I have some vanilla flavour tea please...” he looks at me and says: “so you want a cup of tea and vanilla syrup in it?”. I say “nope I want vanilla flavoured tea, the one the sign says you have...” He looks at me with the smirk of Mr. Genius and says “you mean vanilla chai latte?” I agree without even repeating what he said and just say “just don’t put milk in it...” and he says: “so you want a vanilla chai like a tea?”. I agree again.

To me chai and tea are one and the same NO difference. Even in some foreign languages chai and tea mean the exact same thing! Check it if you don't believe me.
I'll keep defending my argument even if you prove me wrong anyway.

Now a few other little things, that make absolutely no sense at all. Starbucks. Tall- Grande – Venti. These are the three sizes you can get.

Tall: When you say that something is “tall” in everyday life it means that that something is “big”. But the Starbucks dudes, when they say “tall” they mean small.

Grande: If you want to use the right pronunciation as well you say “gran-dEH” which also means “big” in Spanish. BUT for the Starbucks dudes means “medium”

Venti: Are you ready for this? Are you ready to see how stupid you (including me sometimes) sound when you order it? Venti stands for “twenty” in Italian. But no, for the Starbucks guys means large.

So, I don’t care about your VENTI CARAMEL CHAI LATTE, I just want people to understand me when I give my order like a normal person. But I can't diss starbucks cause I like some of their drinks. Damn you fuckers. I'm out. bye

p.s: It’s freezing outside and seeing guys and girls sacrificing warmth over style makes me shiver even when I wear scarf, hat and my big coat. “Oh it’s really cold outside...” No shit Sherlock, try a coat and leave the fisherman’s jeans for the fisherman.

I DON'T KNOW...LET ME ASK BAMBI

Man these dreams and boredom drain the life out of me. Preston can be such a bore. As Tennessee Williams would say, drunk at a casual conversation… “yeah you’re right Felix.”

Anyway, I have to do these essays and in order to do them, since they are articles, I need other people’s opinions in them. As I’ve learned the hard way and mentioned a few posts before from that comment from an ex-teacher of mine, “no body cares what you think”, hence the blogging and the efforts of writing songs.

So, I woke up at 9 today, went to an interview that I had arranged a couple of days ago with a career’s advisor to discuss the raise of unemployment figures in the U.K and whether the University students and graduates should start reasearching for unique ways of suicide since they won’t be able to get a job at what they studied in the future or they should keep their cool cause after all there’s hope. Long story short that interview went really well, the woman was really helpful and polite and the only thing she didn’t do was to give me a candy after the interview was done.

After that, I decided to go and see some professors and arrange interviews with them about my next articles. So, here’s me entering this tall ass building on a bright sunny day, with my heavy khaki coat on, my hat and my back pack half-full with books and notes. The building was a good 10 minutes walk from where I was when I finished my first interview so it’s needless to say that I was thinking how stupid I am for getting dressed so heavily. But on my defense British weather is like that 2girls one-cup video. Everything goes right till the girls start playing around with shit eating them swapping them from their mouths etc. So yeah it can be really hot and then BAM surprise you with cold winds and rain.

I enter the elevator half sweating on my way to the second floor. I got to the reception and a girl behind the desk approaches me and asks if she could help me. Ofcourse she could, I tell her what I was looking for and she gives me the names of 5 different professors. I’m getting really excited thinking BABABOOEE that’s sweet, but I speak out the words “thank you very much” and I’m on my way to find them at their offices.

I get to the first guy’s office. His door is wide open, he’s sitting on his chair, legs crossed with a cup of coffee/tea infront of him and he’s talking to another professor I think I’m not sure. I stand outside of his office trying to be polite and wait till they finish talking when he sees me and says “may I help you?”. I try to explain what I’m after and before I even finish my first sentence he interrupts and says “ha…you want to interview me now? No way…I have no time” I smile and say “I know, i’m looking to arrange an interview with you”. Again, he says “no can do” sitting there in his professor’s chair points at one of the notes on his door and says “read what it says there”… The poster has a gay ass purple bunny-lady on it smiling and says something witty about how he is not responsible for our inability to manage time.

I thank him none the less and I’m off to find the next professor, thinking that since I have the names of 5 more guys here I can’t go wrong.

I stand outside the next professor’s office waiting him to finish from a meeting he was having with a student. From his voice he sounds friendly and approachable so once again I think “BABABOOEE…here we are”. He finishes with the meeting and as the student opens the door, the professor sees me and says “please come in may I help you?”. I start explaining him what I wanted and he says…”you want to interview me?” I try to begin my sentence saying “yes please, whenever you have…” and he stops me and says “no I decline” and turns back to his work. No explanation. I mean, come on now, at least tell me “I decline cause I don’t like your face and if I listen to your stupid accent/ talk to you more than 5 minutes I think I’ll come out with a life-long trauma”. That’d be ideal. But no he says nothing. Leaves it to that he “declines”. Who says “I decline” in an everyday conversation anyway…

Long story short, if I ever become a professor which I doubt it, please slap me in the face. Not that there are no nice professors but the majority of those I’ve met are like jocks, star wars geeks or even math geeks. Think they are superior, just because they are surrounded by books and have a cup of coffee in front of them. You once were a student too and if you have that attitude now I’ll take it that either you didn’t have many friends or before you become a professor the secret professors society operated on you and replaced your heart with some kind of a machine and instead of blood you run on math equations and fancy big ass confusing words.

One day I will build my own University with my own rules. Rule number one I don’t know…just be nice, I guess? and don't pinch each other.

p.s: a few weeks ago I was thinking of blogging for the University I’m currently in for future students giving them a taste of my life and experiences in the U.K, well I turned that down, but here’s a picture that sums it up real well.

Farters On Trains And Multiple Personalities

Today we’ll talk about multiple personalities and the use of books other than the most known use of them which is for entertainment.

Alright, let me begin this post by making a report on what I’ve been doing lately. First of all I’ll start with the clichés. I’ve been stressing and having the same old “constipative” thoughts that I’ve been having since 13. These thoughts include, anxiety and loss of sleep that I won’t make it and fail, be it classes, be it social life etc etc. As a result, I either work my ass off and put my self in a routine mode forgetting everything else or I completely forget about what it has to be done and as a result I start panicking. What’s that? Oh yeah you can call that little inherited neurosis or transplanted to me by teachers or peers. You know how these things work.

Anyway, apart from being anxious most of the time, I also made it to London for a couple of days. I met a friend of mine there and we went to the Ginsberg’s photography exhibition. I was expecting much more apart from just enlarged pictures of Kerouac, Burroughs, Cassidy, Bob Dylan and other artistic figures that Ginsberg was surrounded by. You know maybe a reading of his poems or something? Maybe? Maybe I sound pretentious? Nah, I sound just about right. Anyway, I found the exhibition alright, nothing special and my friend found it plain boring because he didn’t know all these persons. He knew they were authors but, you know. Bottom line it could have been better.

So, multiple personalities. Everyone have multiple personalities and if you don’t believe me then you just never pay attention to what is going on around you. I’m not talking about freaking out in the middle of the street or talking to yourself while you drool in your white straight jacket. Think of how you order your food when at a restaurant. Think of how your voice changes when you speak to your bf/gf on the phone. Think of how you say “hi” to your mother how you say “hello” to your friends and how you say “hello” to the people that they think they’re your friends. You change everybody changes with every fucking move we make. Slight changes but still changes. I know I know, "it's called adapting" but I call it changing to the slightest, but it's still a change.

Now that I got this out of the way, I’ll go back and talk about the use of books other than the reading entertainment. So, I’ll take a wild guess and say that all of you have been on a train en route to somewhere before. Here’s the part a book comes handy. Not only to read when you get bored but also to pretend read when the person sitting next to you wants to talk to you and you want to avoid the conversation because you just don’t want to talk. Plus, if someone that looks funny to you comes and sits next to you, you can also chuckle to yourself and pretend you’re laughing at something you just read. BE DISCREET THOUGH! Don’t be a dick. Now of course there’s this other kind of people that you just can’t defend your self from, by just reading or pretend reading. I’m talking about the farters. If you happen to be sitting anywhere near one, well, good luck.

Now I have to go back and do a research cause I’m stressing about my assignments. Oh plus, I forgot to mention, I would have a much better entry than this crappy one as I had an awesome idea on my way to London and that idea was interrupted by a farter. Had to move seats and by the time I did the idea had left me. So blame the farter.

Here’s a nice song though

I'M BACK- THREESOME IS THE FUTURE'S FIRST KISS

Guess who's back yah beechez, I mean folks. Definitely folks. I deleted the blog I had a while back, tried tumblr, found out that it sucks sick monkey's butt so with my tail between my legs and my ears down low like a good puppy, I returned.

This is the first post, for a new beginning, so I'll just keep it simple. I'm back and probably to stay. I guess that blogging is something to keep you busy when you're hella bored and not in the mood for a movie, reading, guitar playing, eating, walking etc etc.

This post is about music. Original hey?! AWESOME. So, after watching a couple of videos of some well known female pop artists that I wouldn't like to name (but Rihanna's still hot in S&M and Avril Lavigne is trying too hard to balance in between "sexy?" and rebel style), I came down to this and I know I'll sound like an old fart/prude but before you run your tongues like diarhea let me finish. So, here it goes: when I was 12/13 Britney Spears first introduced that innocent school girl's look and sang songs about high school crushes. Now, the equivalents of Britney's then, are singing songs about S&M and about screwing a guy over. Where I'm going with this is that in a few years, if you become a parent you won't be wondering if or when your daughter had her first kiss, but instead if or when your daughter had her first thressome.

That's it. Call me prude but I'm willing to put money down that in a few years you'll be enjoying your whiskey on your favorite chair and praying that your daughter won't get caught up in a gang-bang tonight and praying for a simple threesome. That's all. Glad I'm back, didn't you miss me or what?!

p.s: SWAG