внезапно и неожиданно

БРЕЖНЕВ, ВОДКА, МАТРЁШКА, ПЕРЕСТРОЙКА, СОЛЖЕНИЦЫН, КОЛХОЗ! :D

Не-не-не, я не издеваюсь. Ну, над вами не издеваюсь, читатели вы несуществующие. Над собой, впрочем, возможно и издеваюсь... а возможно и нет... :1a

Есть за мной такая привычка - глаза себе печатными словами выкалывать, да ещё и своими же, собственно, словами.

Так вот.

Я тут недавно решила, что я слишком мало пишу на своём родном языке! На языке, который я нещадно коверкала, пока росла! И это печально. И потому я буду коверкать ВАШИ ГЛАЗА РЖАВОЙ КОЧЕРГОЙ, ВАХАХАХА. Ржавая кочерга здесь как синоним моих языковых навыков, большая часть которых уплыла куда-то в Кливленд.




Английский язык, знаете, попроще русского будет.

Так, о чём это я?

По-моему, мне опять не о чем выговориться, кроме как о том, что я купила новую кружку! Не знаю, собственно, зачем и почему мне понадобилась кружка за 180 рублей, но факт остаётся фактом.

Лучше бы в кинотеатр сходила, наверное. Но головой я, как и многие мои соотечественники, в принципе не думаю. Думаю я другими местами. Задницей. Жопой. Ягодицами. Анусом. У меня ректальное расположение мозга. Вот так-то.

Ректальная лоботомия. Это нужно запатентовать.

Когда появятся ещё идеи, приду снова понасилую клавиатуру.

---

BREZHNEV, VODKA, MATRYOSHKA, PERESTROIKA, SOLZHENITSIN, KOLHOZ! :D

No-no-no, I'm not poking fun at you. Well, not poking fun at -you-, nonexistent readers you. Myself, however, I might be poking fun at... or might not... :1a

I have this habit - poking my own eyes out with typed words, and with my own words, at that.

So.

I recently decided that I write too little in my native language! The language which I mercilessly mutilated while growing up! And that's why I'll mutilate YOUR EYES with a rusty poker, HAHAHAHA. The rusty poker here is synonymic with my  language skills, the most part of which drifted off somewhere to Cleveland.

English language is kind of easier than Russian, you know.

So, what was I talking about?

I think I don't have anything to talk about, again, other than about my recent purchase of a new mug! I don't know, personally, why and for what purpose I needed a mug costing 180 rubles, but fact is fact.

Probably should have went to the cinema instead. But I don't think with my head, like most of my compatriots. I think with other places. My behind. My ass. My buttocks. My anus. My brain is located in my rectum. There you go.

Rectal lobotomy. Need to patent that.

When I get other ideas, I'll come rape the keyboard again.

trivial, but such is life, such is life...

so, I guess I will write about random things that happen, have happened or may theoretically happen to me over the course of an unknown number of days. I don't often count the days that have passed, you see, unless I am expecting something good (or terrible) that has a set date or at least a days-to-go approximate.

first of all, I've been keeping my cat locked in the room I currently inhabit, steadily, for a while now. she killed my lovebird this month, and... and it was pretty terrible... so we are keeping my cockatiel safe this way. see, we can't close the door to the bird room because the door handle is casually missing for a while now, and this room is only lockable from inside... and locking her up in the bathroom every time is a bit irritating. especially given moving her food, drink and shitpot there would be a terrible idea. the place's not that big.

second, I've had a raging throatache lately. I dared to eat a hotdog during it, earlier, when I did the usual meatstuff+catfood+bread buying trip. I deeply, deeply regretted it. cough. cough. literal cough.

third, my mom got some kinda coffee pack with the coffee jar itself and a cup+plate for said coffee. I ignored the coffee, but stole the cup. and the plate. I like them. they're convenient and pretty. this is what you get for not buying me a cup for instant coffee, mom. THIS IS WHAT YOU GET. you said you'd buy one. sob.

fourth, it's really fucking cold here. no, I mean, it's cold and rainy. not even snowy. it's kind of like getting fucked up the ass with no dinner afterwards! wow rude, weather. really rude.

fifth, the cat has taken to licking my body in places that aren't my hands, arms or face. I can understand legs, but when she moves to my stomach or armpits, it gets a bit weird. /tmi

sixth, rainbows are warm.

seventh, this room is a total mess.

eighth, I realized I could fry potatoes - and proceeded to do that. POWA UP

that's all, I think

I really want a working tablet. I hate paper.

small pleasures

so I've been rewatching Oban: Star-Racers. it's awesome as hell.

the art style is awesome too once you get used to everyone not having noses.

lol

now that I have calmed down a tiniest bit

... I want to tell you about my childhood. about my earlier, non-murky, GOOD childhood. the one that I really miss having and go "ha, I used to do and say the stupidest things" about at the same time.

first of all, I really liked taking this transparent paper glue, get it onto my hands and fingers, slap my hands together, sloooowly take them apart and watch myself be Spiderman. those small tendrils of glue really looked like web. sadly, the glue dried quickly enough with such procedures, and I had to pour more and more into my hands over and over again. and then it didn't want to wash away!

on topic of Spidermanly qualities, I'll start off a bit unrelated. see, when it was warm enough and when kids still used to like being out in the playground, I liked running out without my footwear. in summer, it was kind of uncomfy and there were stones I accidentally stepped on, sometimes. and I really liked getting onto a METAL SLIDE that is out there still.

except in summer it was way too hot and I was afraid to get my kiddy butt and feets roasted like some beef, so I preferred to do it closer to autumn.

point is...  without footwear, I could run up the slide without any difficulties, or even just plain climb up it! so that's a Spidermanly action, too.

I liked climbing onto things that weren't trees or garages. I still can't climb trees and poles, and I don't like jumping on garages. boys liked and still like doing it, and I tended to hang out with boys, but my boyishness never got past innocent things like wearing boyish clothing and running around with toy guns.

I don't like toy guns anymore, either - I really don't like pain. back then, I used to, but then someone shot me with a toy rifle - and boy, do those plastic bullets hurt if one lands into your butt or brushes past bare skin...

I liked wearing a glove with skeleton patterns. yeah, just one. or black-with-a-white-spider. it was kinda cool, or so I thought. now I just laugh at my kiddish silliness.

I always liked toy swords! and real swords. I even got to handle a REALLY-REAL sword, once! gosh, I was so delighted to drag and wave it around, haha. I wish I had one, now.

I liked rollerskating. still do, but I just don't like having a backpack with my main set of footwear, and... I am not confident enough to plain rollerskate around without walking inbetween. I can't even do tricks... and brake.

my braking always consisted and will consist of "HELLO, BENCH/WALL/TREE/POLE/PERSON. NICE TO MEET YOU. BYE."

I guess I just don't know where to stop!

but, either way...

I guess I'll post this.

~~~~~~

so I am the happiest person on Earth.

 and I just feel like going around and around, dancing and dancing in ciiircles

'cause I am the happiest person on Earth~

that means I finally GOT THE MAIL. G-G-GOT THE MAIL. GOT THE MAIL. WHO'S GOT THE MAIL? I GOT THE MAIL.

this is the best day ever

I also got a camo hoodie in a shop near the mail place.

and a t-shirt with a smiley face and the word "REBEL" in rather large caps.

large caps. WELLLLCOME TO DEPARTMENT OF REDUNDANCY DEPARTMENT, I HOPE YOUR NICE STAY IS NICE, HOPEFULLY.

so I'm spitting random occasional-caps and I just can't stop!

CANNOT STOP for the unlife of me. yes, I am undead.

A ZOMBIE POWERED BY THE PURE HAAAAAAAAPPY THAT EXISTS AROUND ME.

or maybe I'm a Generator Of Happiness!

the happy generator of happiness~~~~~

can generators dance? hm

hmmmmm.

now I'm a confused generator of happiness.

OH I ALSO HAVE A WEBCAM NOW.

one happy! AH AH AH AH AH

two happy! AH AH AH AH AH

three happy! AH AH AH AH AH

no I really can't stop.

I should just publish this.

go

kola kid is awesome

music.

in other news, I've been playing games of mafia on VDex. it's uh... those games when there's a large number of good old townspeople who don't know who others are and their possible roles, about which I'll tell a bit lower, and a small number of mafia members. townspeople can lynch a person by voting at day, and whoever has the most votes is lynched. of course, mafia can participate in voting too, and potentially fool townspeople into lynching one of their own. mafiosi know each other, and rather obviously know who is NOT mafia. they can kill a person at night, and if the game has specific roles, they may have more than one kill.

now about roles. typical set at vdex is as follows:

vanilla: town or mafia. no special powers, here.

doctor: normally town role. may protect a person from night actions targeting them (that aren't investigation), but can't protect the same person twice in a row. can protect themselves, usually.

detective/cop: town role. may investigate a person at night, either gets both their role and alignment, their alignment or their role.

paranoid detective (paracop): same as above, town role. has some chance to get investigation result as mafia for a townie.

stunner: either town or mafia. may disable someone's night actions. does not work on people protected by doctor, but works on the doctor themselves unless the doctor protected themselves.

silencer: either town or mafia. may rid someone of their ability to vote at day. occasionally disables the ability to post role/alignment theories and speculation. there is a variation when the silencer just makes the person explain their votes in incomprehensible gibberish, which is amusing.

vigilante: town or mafia. can kill at night. self-descriptive.

it's pretty fun!

stupid thoughts summed up

I'm a worrywart, but sometimes it saves my ass. not only mine.
---
I'm kind of disappointed due to reasons. but at least it's not as bad as it could be.
---
my thoughts of most people can be nicely expressed in multiple repeats of "You're a mean one, Mister Grinch". particularly these excerpts:

You have all the tender sweetness

Of a seasick crocodile,

Mister Grinch.

Given the choice between the two of you,

I'd take the seasick crocodile. 

and

The three words  that best describe you, are as follows, and I quote:

STINK, STANK, STUNK.

and possibly

You're a three-decker sauerkraut and a toadstool sandwich

With arsenic sauce!  

---
things never go as planned, and they usually go in the bad direction of the unplanned route.
---
maybe I should expect less.
---
I should stop talking about my issues. it doesn't make anything better. venting is not an assistance to me. venting is, in essence, dumping your negativity away either onto a person or through some kind of artistic (or not very artistic) medium, and  you never know whom it might hit. and sometimes I see all those gory, sometimes self-mutilation-depicting pieces of 'vent art' and... yeah. I won't go there. I don't like going there.
---
 socially unacceptable art is a terrible place. not sure if good or bad.
---
 I wish I could animate with my imagination. I'd create so much awesome.
---
 I wish I could animate.
---
reading disputes of people that just want a good night's sleep with people who go 'HEY WE CAN PARTY ALL NIGHT DON'T BE A PARTY POOPER IF YOU DON'T HAVE FUN IT DOESN'T MEAN OTHERS CAN'T, WE'LL BE NOISY, LET US BE NOISY, BE HUMANE' is pretty brain-killing. the partiers really think they're right, don't they.
---
I'm kind of afraid of drunk people.
---
 I don't like sudden noises when everyone else is supposed to be asleep/not home. I guess I'm pretty paranoid.

slogan of the day

 “Not even the stench of a thousand unwashed groins can keep me from completion of my quest!”
thank you, regretsy commenters, for this gem.

I'll go back to giggling in a corner.

fallen kingdom

might've shed a tear.

so I've been thinking

I'm already dealing with the whole ninth grade exam stuff, aren't I? the time flies so fast, I don't know what to do about it. it's pretty stupid, thinking about that too much, but I think I have a few valid reasons. or, well, at least one.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for this whole... adult life thing. or preparation for adult life. I don't even know what I want to be. I have a goal in mind, but nothing related to career.

I've wanted to be different things in my childhood. first an astronaut (who didn't?), then a lawyer or a judge (when my dad got shot, I wanted to avenge him, see), and finally a programmer.

I eventually grew stony cold to every option there.

I'm not even sure what I'm going to do. people are persuading me to take tourism courses, but is that really for me? a guide and an interpreter... an active life like that isn't for me. I'm not an active person. hell, if anything, I'm the most inactive person, save for getting out of my room every once in a while for incomprehensible reasons.

incomprehensible being food, drinking, groceries, taking garbage out, Taking A Major Dump, etc.

you know.

anyway, I don't know what to do. I don't think I'm very much capable of leading an active life like that, and I'm fairly sure I won't be able to keep up. I've never been able to keep up with anything. I'm an apathetic, melancholic person. at first I'm eager to do something, but soon enough I grow all uninterested and stuff.

not to mention all the last places I get in any competitions. I mean, fuck. oh, and guess who's the person on the 2nd lap while everyone else is on 4th, in racing games? you ain't gonna believe...

so I'm pretty conflicted about things.

I guess I'll see what this does.

I really should think less.

I, I, I... I tend to talk about myself, don't I? maybe I should stop being like that. I don't know.

an ex-living person

as sad as it is

not all dogs go to heaven.

I mean, underdogs don't.

and now that I've turned my inner young Sathyre off and turned my inner older Sathyre on

 

I imagine that's what'd happen if Sathyre-younger and Sathyre-older met. "LOL YOU'RE SO GRUMPY GET THAT MASSIVE POLE OUT OF YOUR ASS" "stfu lighthouse I do what I want" "YOU'RE SO CUTE /patpat" "aaaargh"

'cause your heart has a lack of color

everyone needs some happy, sometimes