Archive for September, 2015

Finn Journal – 3 Honey pt.2 ep.11

Striken with grief Venis glanced to the hill on which they had buried Elenora. For a moment she thought that her white gowned ghostly apparition waved to her from the hilltop. But after a fraction of a moment she was gone. Not far behind her was Joji, accompanied by twenty guards women. “You’re not trying to bring her home?” Ghony had sneaked up on her, or at least that was how Venia saw it. “She doesn’t want me to.” a thoughtful pause later she continued, “Perhaps it’s for the better. She probably kniws I would spend every waking hour mourning at her side. This way she sets me free.” again she paused immersed in thought. “Sort of.” There was nothing Ghony could’ve said, to help Venia cope with her loss any better. An amused smirk appeared on her lips. Peeking to the side she noticed an equally amused expression on Venias face. Slowly the two Naga turned and glanced over their shoulders.Wathron was chased off by one of the guards of Joji after he had tried to flirt with the princess. “He hounds every woman in the trek, but the one that is interested in him.” Ghony pointed at Nicodia again speaking in Naga tongue. As in the forest, a bee guard snickered, it was the same that had snickered at Ghonys remark about princess Fajala. “You should perform at banquets!” she shouted in dragged Naga. Indicating a slight bow Ghony turned again. The journey to the beach was uneventful, apparently the presence of Joji and her guards scared off the owls. They were no stranger to the fierce fighters, after they had discovered by pure chance the properties of tge honey, they too tried raiding for it. With a different intent than the bats who would’ve wanted to use it, they sought to destroy it. After decades of attempts they gave up on it, as the bees didn’t give it away willingly they stopped perceiving the honey as a threat to the integrity of the nin magical. Upon seeing the expedition return with native people Orthlan rushed towards them. “He will have many questions your highness, as he is very interested in foreign cultures, perhaps you want to delegate this to someone else in your party.” eloquently speaking to the princess, Dahony had turned out as a qood liaison between Venia and the princess over the past days in the prairie and the forests. Both Venia and Ghony lacked the delicacy that came with diplomatic engagements. “No. As I teach him about our lands and its different people, he can teach me of your lands and its different people.” Dahony bowed respectfully. A few meters from Venia tge old Albin stopped. Worry in his eyes he studied the about fourty people emerging from the woods. “Where is Elenora?” the grieving and grimm expression on Venias face told him all he needed to know. A few graves next to the campsite told Venia of the losses in the camp during her absence. “Andrea anxiously awaited your return, only Helius and her wanted to lead us after the first attack had seen Jeethina killed. Even the Florals were in favor of that fungal, which left Andrea even more furious. After all, you’re a female.” the Albin explained as they continued their approach on the camp. There was no telling how hard Venia was hit by the news of Jeethinas death, but the sweetwater Naga around her were clearly devastated.

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Empty bottles

Harkening back to the good ol’ parent-teacher conference, and the burning issue of the filling status of the waterbottle, I saw such an empty bottle today.
And her husband. And their three daughters.

But one thing at a time.

We went to the supermarket, just entering the parking lot, an Audi A6 stops dead in his tracks just in front of us, hindering us to reach a suitable spot to park our car.

Admitted, the place looked desolate, due to construction work being done on it, but a giant; HUUGE banner above the door told visitors in three simple words “Open despite Renovations” (in german “Offen trotz Umbau”), in all capital letters, the sign told from afar that they’re inindeed open.
So the car blocked us, and then the shotgun side opens, a woman – type: former UdSSR mail order bride, twenty years later – leaves. She walks up to the door, which is well lit, and people are in there. She enters, looks at the carts, at the register, at the people, then turns around and nods with a glad smile.
Now the car parks, now I see the driver. Type: guy who bought a broad from the former UdSSR twenty years ago.
I try to calm myself, maybe they both can’t read/speak german, despite their local registration plate. (It happens, more often than you think)
Oh, wait, they have HOW many girls between 6 and 8? Three? One of them ought to be able to read that three word sentence above the door…

Later I hear him talk at the regoster with the cashier. He is from around here. He is a native. His natove language IS the same as the sign/banner above the door. This is the kind of parent that asks about the bottle three times. The kind that writes down even the most mundane basic shit, and STILL gets everything wrong.

I saw an empty bottle today. Five of them in fact…

Life ain’t that hard, driving!

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Driving – if you’re not sitting in public transportation, writing away like I do, and you’re not one of the bicycle creeps, then you’re probably a driver.

And driving ain’t that hard to do:
1. Get in the car
2. Fasten the seat belt
3. Start ignition, start engine
4. Keep to the speed limits, on the correct side of the road
5. Get were you’re going
6. Stop engine, open seatbelt, leave car
7. Lock the doors

Trust me, maybe I don’t have a drivers license, but if you adhere to these simple steps, you too can avoid adding to the horrendous number of traffic related deaths.

But wait! There is more.
• TURNSIGNALS are not an invention of commnist-nazis
• “check your engine” lights are not decorative elements
• music for driving should neither be sleep-inducing, nor aggravating
• calling, texting, shaving, applying make up, sexual activity, drinking, eating, smoking – is all okay, as long as you’re stationary and not moving (mind local law)
• DUI (alcohol, weed, other drugs both legal and not) just don’t
• you’re on public roads, not the Nürnberg ring, act accordingly.

and of course the obligatory stuff:
• battery!
• check your tires (pressure, presence)
• mind the oil
• watch the fuel gauge (gas stations are your friend)
• on long drives, take rest (or turns)
• with cargo tie everything down as if a tornado came

As usual, don’t forget, take care,
A.

Finn Journal – 3 Honey pt.2 ep.10

Both Nicodia and Princess Fajala were stomped to find the many hostile creatures falling from their hideouts, inched towards one another, while the guards closed in around them, ready to fight if necessary. After a few minutes the spook was over and the path to the hive was cleared of any lurking bat people.   Restless the queen marched through her chambers, every now and then she buzzed with her wings. Meanwhile workers fixed the broken floor in the girls schooling room, the noise was annoying her, but Venias unusual exit had showed her a weakness in the hive. Loud hammering noise began to fill the narrow rooms, swallowed partially by the wax walls, floors and ceiling. “We need the wax to let in the light.” she recited the arguments her workers had for keeping the traditional way of building. Still she insisted on something more durable than wax. If Venia could punch her way out an attack party could punch their way in, hold her dear daughters hostage for some honey. “Mother?” Joji looked up from the parchments she had returned with from her fathers hive, waiting for her mother to look at her. “Woukd you mind stopping this pacing around? You are making me crazy.” The queen made a face, but sat down on a cushioned seat as well. “What are you doing anyway?” she tried to catch a glimpse of the parchments. “Copying these.” she gently waved with the parchments she had brought. “We can’t always rely on the other hive for them.” she continued writing down what she read. Buzzing in the crawl space told the queen of someone entering. By the sound of it, was it princess Fajala. Although only thirteen, she already dounded much like her big sister. “Mother! We have permission!” with disregard for all protocol and any pleasantries the girl entered the room and was radiant with joy and adventurous mood. Joji and her mother exchanged a knowing look, the princess nodded after a few moments and got up with a long sigh. Even before she had traveled to her fathers hive, it had been clear to her that she would accompany the strangers, if they were to give them honey. “One liter.” the queen reminded her oldest. “Yes mother.” Joji thought it was too much but her mother had set it forth, so it had to be done.

Patience

Truly is a virtue. A virtue that I am not in possession of.

I have gotten over the aneurysm inducing first parent-teacher conference, and I must say, I marvel at the patience of the Kindergarten teachers, and the braindamage indicating stupidity of the parents.
All of which seem like either left-over Yuppies (Ouppies?) or Alternative-Antivaxxer-Hippies.
Or both.

KGT (Kindergardenteacher): “For the strictly voluntary, weekly Out-Of-The-House-Day supply your kid with a backpack, raincoat, they should wear trousers, don’t pack lunches, and supply a reusable waterbottle, we fill the bottles with the children here.”
Parent1: “The bottle should be empty?”
KGT: “Yes.”
Parent2: “Can we fill them at home?”
KGT: “No. We fill them with the kids, here.”
Parent3: “So, the bottle is supposed to be empty?”

I wonder how these people have made it through the daily gauntlets of life so far.

If I would’ve held that conference I would’ve told them the first sentence. When the first parent asks I would’ve let out a sigh of frustration and stared blankly into the audience: “Listen up. I will say this only once again: Bring an empty bottle that your kid is going to fill up with water. Here. With us. You do not fill it yourselves, we and the kids do. If any of you are dimwitted enough to be confused by this simple task, LEAVE! Leave now, your kids will be taken into custody of the state, your drivers licence will be revoked, and you won’t be permitted to vote, anymore! In fact, you will be given a legal guardian yourself!”

Explaining basic simple crap to toddlers is something that needs to be done.
They’re learning. That is something I can do. Their attention span is about 5 seconds (unless they are supposed not to pay attention to something, then it can’t be deterred).
But their parents get zero tolerance.
These people have had kids, they need to raise these kids. They are holding jobs.
They have a permit to navigate a vehicle of several tons, loaded with said children and several liters of a highly flammable liquid, through populated areas.
They are allowed to vote! Thus, not only ruining the futures of small groups of people, but large groups of people.

And this can’t be tolerated! They need to be as much raised/trained as their kids, the KGT shouldn’t let that shit slip.

So.
After my first almost-breakdown, we went on further down shit road. 

Still on the subject of the voluntary, weekly Out-Of-The-House-Day:
KGT: “We ask the children whether they want to go out and if they don’t want to, they stay inside.”
Parent4 (FRONTROW SEATED!): “Well I was under the impression that my child’s backpack was hardly if ever used last year. Why’s that?”
KGT: ….
In my head: “Did you binge drink before you got here, passed out and didn’t hear jackshit about the entire voluntary part, only waking up due to the ruckus over the bottle? Did you take LSD and fazed out? Don’t ask about the bottle, I dare you! Maybe your little snowflake did not want to go out that much?”

If they were to hold a simple test AFTER the meeting, to see what the parents retained OF the meeting, the results would be catastrophic. Further cementing my idea that such test should be required to vote in election.

Sheetcreek river tours ain’t over yet!

KGT: “By rules and regulations, as well as the law, we are prohibited from administrating any medication on your children. That includes cremes if your child has diaper sore, or homeopathic globuli.”
In my head: “Wahahahahaha, good, my kid shouldn’t eat too much candy anyways!”
KGT: “We can’t even use disinfectants.”
Parent5: “Blood does disinfect anyways.”

What??? Wait! WHAT??? Then why on earth are we doing all this disinfection shit then? Why are there sterile OR tools? This parent solved all of our problems! Doctors, throw away those gloves, ditch that soap amd get to work asap, blood disinfects!

Back on track.
Parent6: “Why don’t you use Octenisept? It has hardly any sideffects, it doesn’t even burn!”
In my head: “Seriously, what kind of drug abuse are you folks partaking in to get to the point of blacking out every five minutes and missing vital shit like PROHIBITED BY LAW? Did you get ANY of that?

KGT: “No. We can’t. Dirt is washed out by the blood flow if it’s a scratch, if the child is bleeding more heavily than a band aid could contain, mwe are calling either you, or an ambulance anyways.
Parent7: “What if the child is bleading too heavy for a band aid?”

I am dead serious, what drugs were you people doing before coming in? And why did I miss the stand where they gave out the free acid or whatever?
I’d rather watch the coffeemachine turn into a dragon guarding my fridge, than go through that shit ever again!

After that the aneurysm inducing parents with the braindamage apparently gave up and kept their mouths shut.

In conclusion I must say, yes, I’d have the patience to deal with a bunch of toddlers, but I lack the tolerance, and the will to deal with a bunch of adults, which are supposedly sane.
My deepes respect to teachers worldwide, kindergarten or otherwise.

Take care,
A

PS: Next parent-teacher conference, I am going to get piss drunk beforehand.

Announcement Parent-Teacher conference

Highly unusual for me to announce shit on my blog (except maybe RoF), but in light of yesterday’s parent-teacher conference I am proud to announce that the resulting piece will be online come Friday.

Until then, think about an empty bottle. (You’ll understand on Friday)

A.

Crappy Birthday in September

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This is the perfect gift for people who overcomplicate everything, including and especially taking a dump.

If your victimfriend likes the feeling of warm toilet seats (aka touching asses) and has to crap in a badly heated glass box so a feet warmer and discreet panel illumination are just their thing, and they like to s(h)it for hours on the bog listening to music, getting their buttholes (or in case of female friends, their vaginas) massaged by an oscillating/pulsating bidet stream – go for it.

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6,650.00$ is a price readily paid to give someone you hatelove the displeasure of this square-ish toilet.

Just ask in advance if the bog is e-mailing or twittering the times and durations, as well as chosen bidet programs for each individual user. The world has, after all, a right to know.

Have a crappy birthday, quite literally,
A.