nobody was hurt

we go many years back – the years when mIRC was  the funniest way to spend our night shifts together, even funnier than AoE (I) and Quake (II). he was still a student, but working already, and i had just quit my second-long job ever, except this one in the office. we were colleagues for half a year or so.

then we lost sight of each other for a couple of years, and i don’t remember how we met again. online, first – this time YM had replaced mIRC – and then, occasionally, over a coffee. but our chat had become a daily habit, lately.

in all these many years, and even after a new year’s eve together, we still aren’t what you might call close friends – there are many things, including the most basic, we don’t know about each other. and he used to be younger than i am, which added to the understanding barrier between us. i can’t explain why we kept trying to lift that barrier, and i doubt he can, too.

sadly, he just got as old as i am. not by crossing an imaginary threshold, like 20, or 30, or 40. he’s old because he’s no longer young. here’s why.

among other things, he used to be a biker. he might even still be a biker, or become a biker again, sometimes in the future. his beloved ‘lil’ sour cherry‘, a red bmw, is now a wreck beyond repair, he tells me. he had an accident, a couple of days ago, and both his arms are plastered and fixed with metal rods on the outside, fastened with screws penetrating into the bones. (absolutely hideous. i’ve seen that on patients who weren’t my friends, years ago, when i had the accident that ultimately led me to opening the office. it gives me the goose skin just to think of it. i hope to find the force to go see him some day, though i’m afraid it would almost make me cry.)

his nickname for the old mIRC was ‘nobody’. i even entered him as ‘nobo’ in my YM list, and his real name remained unknown to my ol’podna for many years. of course, there were easy jokes now and then, like the cheap title above. mIRC had this feature, allowing the users to write /me [action], which resulted in the displaying of the text ‘me action’. for instance, if your nickname were ‘nobody’, and you wrote /me asked you, the others would have seen ‘nobody asked you’.

now his accident was not that serious, it will not leave serious physical consequences on the long run. it might not be very long until he could afford another second-hand bike. he still is younger than me, in absolute terms. but he said he’s going to find another hobby, and he joked about pottery or something. it broke my heart, because i felt he just got old. he’s not legally married and he’s not a father, like i am, but neither is he a lot of other things anymore.

even if he will ride again, some day, and though he was never reckless on the road, and he was a ‘satanist’  only in our jokes – anyone who loves metal rock and rides a motorbike is implicitly a satanist, no? – he now has to worry about the new job he started just a couple of days before the accident. he must rely on his girlfriend’s and mother’s and even ‘mother-in-law’s help and care. he must consider what to do if he’s accepted to yet another, even better job for which he recently sustained an interview. when one ‘must’ so many things, one’s no longer young and free and unharmed by fear and pain.

/me felt not that old when nobody was younger

PokerStars is a scam

you know the famous online poker game they offer at PokerStars? the one that was blocked in the USA under charges of money laundering? well, i have the undisputable proof that PokerStars is a scam, and their software is manually corruptible so as to deal rigged hands instead of random cards.

what i’m saying is not based on probabilities and math – no such proof is possible, because no matter how improbable actual deals are, they are still possible.

i am talking about a proof as solid as obama’s proof of killing bin laden: TRUST ME. i know – it’s rigged. PokerStars is a scam. i’ll show you the evidence as soon as obama releases the pictures with bin laden dead, ok?

REMEMBER: POKERSTARS IS A HUGE MONEY-LAUNDERING SCAM. return here frequently, to be among the first wh0 see the undisputable evidence.

party over the irish lawn

remember the irish lawn? well, a couple of evenings ago, we had a small party there.

little has changed since my previous visit – a couple of more buildings, here and there. a chinese in pyjamas scratched his ass in the empty space of a gate of a half enclosed yard.

so there we were – five people on a balcony, in the fresh evening, after a day between too warm and almost hot.

bourbon (or tennessee whisky or whatever jd is) was on the rocks, and beers were cold. garlic added its vigorous note to the fried chicken, sausages and home-made pickled green tomatoes.

ol’podna was relaxed like she’d not been in weeks. the 2-pound greedy turtle got bits of food in the huge aquarium. wrongname‘s pal helped him finish a cigar. i put a cap on the beers by tasting the [black] elder flavored lemonade next to a shot of limoncello.

no point in explaining what made us laugh now and then.

before midnight, all the bones had been thrown to the stray dogs and we went home.

we will someday remember the better times of our lives, when you could open a fridge and take a beer, you pushed a switch and light was on, and turn a tap and fresh water ran. when lhasa de sela kept singing after she was dead, and she didn’t mind to perform as an opening for rammstein.

yes, you can hope this will be forever and that the internet connection will only fall now and then. but hoping is one thing, and reasonable expectation is another.

we don’t need no

education is very very.

the princess asked me the other day

‘do we have any cd with tchaikovski?’

we have. ‘why?’

‘the music teacher asked us to bring some, we’re having a class on tchaikovski’

so i find the symphony no. 6 aka ‘pathetique’ and a couple of piano and violin concertos. then, just before she got out of the door, i remembered the ‘compilations of masterpieces’ and call her back to have also some pieces of ‘the nutcracker’, ‘sleeping beauty’, and ‘swan lake’.

‘the teacher will surely prefer these shorter ones’

this evening, i asked them my cd-s back.

‘well, which one did you listen?’

‘none’

‘why?’

‘there was no time for it’.

wtf. of course. it was the music class about tchaikovski, how could they possibly have time to waste?!?

good shot, sir!

the uncensored version

‘limerack’

an african-american

sent navy SEALS to pakistan

when they heard ‘black hawk down’

they fled from the town

and forgot to take pictures of pakistan

debate on torture

the Bear and the Rabbit were sharing a cell at Gitmo.

– i can’t stand it, Bear! they’re beating me every day and keep asking me to ‘confess’, and i don’t even know WHAT to confess!

– i know, Rabbit, they’re doing the same to me…

the cell door opens and the throw in a Giraffe. the Rabbit is dismayed:

– oh, Bear, i’ll admit anything! look what they did to the poor Horse!!!

this is my contribution to the debate on the merits of torture, a debate relaunched after the alleged killing of the alleged terrorist osama binladen, resulting from alleged information on his hiding place obtained from allegedly torturing alleged terrorists already in custody, allegedly in cia prisons allegedly located in other countries.

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