so they say

they take dozens of pictures of innocent civilians they have murdered and/or tortured. they brag about it on facebook, twitter, shitter, and all over the internet. but the one time they allegedly kill the most wanted terrorist, they don’t have a single lousy snapshot. “we dumped him into the sea”.

yea, right. dumped who?  i’m under the strongest impression that osama binladen is just a fictional character.

and until now, i was convinced they went to the moon.

UPDATE: a US senator says she “does not see a need” to release pictures with towelhead’s corpse. she says “the DNA has been dispositive  (?!?!)”. and another prominent US senator somehow hopes that al quaeda will “acknowledge”  the death of binladen, and this would spare the public the trouble of seeing pictures described by the white house as “gruesome”. you got to love those people, always ready to ponder the best interests of everyone in their country and of the whole world.

the more they babble, the less credible the eventual official publishing will be, and the higher chances to see the pics in an unauthorized release.

1000 words

warning: hatred post

somehow, hopping from one friend’s blog to another, then to another, i got on this delicate, colorful, feminine blog. i’m returning there quite often. sometimes i find interesting images, and sometimes just indiscrete glimpses into some strangers’ life.

you probably heard times and again the corny wise saying ‘an image is worth 1000 words’. the reverse is there are thousands of images worth a single word: junk. well, the blog i’m writing about has a separate tag to which i inexplicably feel the urge to reply with more than one word. so – why don’t you shoot yourself? with a gun, not with a camera. why would we call ‘art’ a picture that comes out blurred because of poor skills?  why would someone waste time and materials on this kind of crap?

ok. now why a hatred post against a civilized, apparently even kind person? one who has a mild, innocuous mania for photography, while she’s also using it as a professional tool? the answer is – because i can, and because i hate her. i hate her because she can make a living of low-level journalism. by low-level, i mean travel and shit, as opposite to front-line, and real investigations, and relevant op-ed about important issues. i hate her because she still affords going  on with her careless life, while her country and mine are involved in an incipient war against libya, and while japan is struggling against its biggest disaster since wwii. i hate her because she has the time to take thousands of redundant pictures, her ‘way to work’ 1000 times.

i hardly found the time to let off the steam with this post, because the online poker server is closing the games, preparing for a restart in a couple of hours. and i use every available minute to play online poker, while the planet keeps falling apart.

you’ll never walk alone

no, mubbie, you are not original. you’re just one in a long, too long gallery.

i intended to add a string of pictures, but this of all posts does not deserve a better look. i’ll just name some of their species, unfortunately adaptable on any continent, to any race and in any century.

louis xvi of france. ceausescu of romania. kim jong il of north korea. mubarak of egypt.

they were all loved by their people, at first, and hated in the end. louis was beheaded. ceausescu was shot. kim and mubbie still think that they’re irreplaceable – all in their species do. you know, ‘if i would leave, there’d be chaos’.

just leave, let others worry about the chaos, ok?

at least, king louie of disney’s jungle book was interested in the secret of fire – he thought it will make him human. mubaraks think they know all the secrets. dumber than monkeys.

too bad there is no god. if there were, then I would be god. and i’d show myself in the form of a finger. a huge teflon finger, coming down from the sky and chasing mubaraks like cockroaches: pftchlrt!

(why teflon? because cockroaches’ guts wouldn’t stick to it – a quick rinse in the ocean and My hand would be clean.)


this year was half OK. in a relative time sequence:

i started playing online poker

i added 1 year to my age

i started this blog. big deal

ol’podna stopped playing online poker

i started learning online poker

i enjoyed the soccer world cup. some posts about it resulted in my modest traffic records on this blog

ol’ podna resumed playing online poker – but i didn’t mention it in a blog post

i won the first bucks playing online poker. not enough to withdraw anything from my account

then i lost those first bucks, won again, lost again

my back pains kept worsening

i quit smoking. some would think it would deserve a post, perhaps a very special one, describing how and when and why and everything. it doesn’t – because it’s easier than anyone can imagine, even after 20 years, and from 3 packs a day. i didn’t even bother to remember the exact date. i just quit

the kids outgrew us: he‘s now taller than i am (i still keep an advance of some 20 pounds of weight heheheh), and his younger sister is now taller than ol’podna

my online poker account dropped below $100 again

drawing the line, i earned a little more than in 2009, but still not enough. enough for what? don’t ask. for instance, it was the second year in a row when we couldn’t afford proper vacations – but that’s nothing. i definitely have more white hairs than 1 year ago (they’re still a minority)

i am happier. it was the 6th year in the office

ladder to heaven

before writing about my martyrdom, a beautiful picture would beautifully illustrate this beautiful story. here it is:, it’s all you need. words are more important here.

my office needed a gymnastics ladder – well, not exactly the office, but since it’s where i sleep, eat, etc. it’s the same thing. i found a vendor on google, i saw that the goddam’ thing costed a little more than $100, and i decided to remain serene as long as i could.

so i ordered it unmounted, and i picked it up myself, to avoid the extra $10 for the delivery, plus presumably as much for having it fixed on the wall.

in theory, i had everything to mount and fix it myself – a drill with a hammer option, the skills, and the minimum IQ necessary to follow simple instructions. in practice, the serenity ended when i had to buy 2 more drill bits, for $30 – one for wood, and one for concrete.

ol’ podna couldn’t find the bits at the shop round the corner, while i was sticking the freakin’ bars into the freakin’ sides. no problem – i said, still keeping the appearance of serenity. i’ll go to the dyi shop as soon as i finish the assembly.

so i drove with my sore hands, with the blood at the inevitable scratches hardly stopped, with a burn blister (never touch a screwdriver bit after ruining a screw with the power drill – it’s hot!) and i bought the freakin’ drill bits. i came home, i drilled the wood, i hammer-drilled the concrete wall, i sought help from ol’podna to place the freakin’ thing horizontally, i gave up the ‘help’, i managed to do it right nevertheless, i ignored my back pain and i succeeded into still looking serene while testing the resistance, which was absolutely OK. i had my own doubts about the wall bars actually holding onto the wall with only 4 screws, but i got over it and i only showed the utmost confidence.

all the serenity was long gone, but the very last drop of appearance of serenity vanished when ol’podna concluded: ‘we should have paid the extra bucks and have it fixed by professionals’.

no, i won’t use the above line as a cheap closing quip. i’ll add here, in a fading lamentation — the frustration over the absurd uselessness of being a decent handyman —  the immense uselessness of keeping the goodwill and serenity one month after quitting smoking (i swear i never felt like lighting one, until i finished this job!) — the pathetic uselessness of the attempt to avoid an argument over the extra twenty or thirty bucks, beforehand (i perfectly knew it would have started) — — —


  • although i knew it was too late to point out, afterwards, that i have always favored paying extra for professional services, instead of injuring my hands and killing my back;
  • although i know it’s not easy for ol’podna being my ol’podna;
  • although i know she was equally sincere when she tries saving money and being sure that the ladder is sound;
  • although i know it’s even uglier to burst out after a loooong period of serenity (‘serenity now!!!’ remember george costanza’s father, from seinfeld?)

so, in spite of all these, boy, i DID point it out.

ni derrière ni devant

can’t stop rotfl

this year, for the halloween, the obamas went as african-american


(©gicu, soon-to-be-attorney-at-law)

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