Posts tagged ‘mental’

Battling pt.2

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Yup.
Couldn’t make it in time.
Again.
Whose World this week suffered already. Hope I can do November’s RoF schedule on time.

Take care folks.

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People are fucking nuts.

Just a fun FYI, for once I would like to witness today’s title happening literally. 😉

What drove me to my “highly unusual” conclusion of mass debility?

Amazon, Books and People.

This mixture is odd, you say?
Maybe.
But once you saw that in the top selling books, two coloring books are among the top ranked, you start asking questions.
Like: Are there really that many children around, that these not only are top sellers, but also out of stock, on Amazon? – in short: No.
These books are bought FOR adults.
Colored in BY adults.

That was the moment I took some toilet paper, and wiped off my faith in humanity:

Coloring books for adults.

Are you fraking kidding me? I repeat: Coloring Books. For Adults!

Any potential “calming down” effects aside – you can get that from watching a fire consume the bodies of your enemies – how much more infantile can you get?
Coloring out a fairytale landscape is for five year olds, but not for grown ass people. 

Those are the same kind of people who think the Bible is to be taken literally, who believe Vaccines cause autism, who take channelings from the galactic federation of light seriously, and who take globuli against diabetus!

Coloring frak books, for fracking adults!
And you wonder why extremists want to wipe out western civilisation? There’s the answer. Grownups doing coloring books, and posting it online, while western society is standing by and let’s it happen without a word against it.

If it was one or two mental patients, my mouth would be shut tight. But two entire mental institutions couldn’t buy out the entire amazon.com stock! All of the US, can.
And here I sense the real tragedy – people with access to nuclear weapons (which are controlled by computers using 5inch floppy discs) are doing coloring-books.
Really?
A nation that sent men to the moon fourty-six years ago, is now populated by people who do this stuff for a pass time?
Really?
All you coloring Schmucks, turn to your (great)grandfathers. Look at them. They fought, in a little event called the second world war, Korean war, Vietnam war, and many more. They fought, for you. For your future.
And this is how you repay them? By doing coloring books?
If this was a fad amongst Veterans, who compensate for their PTSD – again, tightly shut pie holeon my part. But this is done by people with no excuse. The Teletubby generation, I presume.

Look numbnuts, if you need to unwind after a long day at work, do what I do – read. Books with words. Let your mind soar, sharpen it, and enjoy what unfolds. One book, one chapter, can give you more images in your head, than an entire library of coloring-books ever could!
But if you have to color in a coloring-book, here’s my suggestion. Do it in secret. Only oncea month, or in (or rather AFTER) very stressful situations – go home. Close all blinds, unhook the phone, turn off TV and internet, drink some wine (Ravenwood’s Zinfandel is recommended), and sit down with your array of 42 color pencils and a fresh page of the coloring book. Then toss that thing in the trash! And draw something that comes to your mind. Something that is truly allowing you to let out some steam! If it is a fiery mess that is eating through your life – doesn’t matter, as long as it let’s out some steam. If it looks like a 3 year old drew it, and your thirty three, doesn’t matter!

But don’t do coloring books, for crying out loud.

Take care, and lay off those coloring books!
A.

Sex ed

I had to cross paths of a school recently, and a bunch of teenage girls entered the tram as I left it, and I happened to see how they looked like…

When I was a wee 14 year old boy, you know what we had? Wee 14 year old girls!
What do wee 14 year old boys have now? WHORES! Seriously, these girls dress in ways that put professional workers to shame, faces covered in more makeup than a tranny parade!
One question: Where were these girls when I was fourteen?

But this brings me to my next topic, two (relatively attractive) female teachers (33 & 23) allegdy had a threesome with their 16 year old male student.

Another question: Where were they when I was 16?

Seriously, I doubt he’s scarred for life, a threesome with two women is EVERYTHING a 16 year old heterosexual guy dreams about!
Is it wrong to abuse the teacher-student relationship this way? Yes.
Should they be banned from classrooms? Definitely.
But other than that? Let it go.
(However, if you consider this seriously wrong, ask yourself this: Are there any things out there that could provoke such behaviour? Think long and hard. And come to this conclusion. Why the double standard? I highly doubt that a 16 yo girl dreams of having sex with two men, one being twice her age. Some, maybe, most, nope. 16 yo boys? Yup. They do. Trust me, I once was a 16 yo boy. They do. There is close to no distinction for a 16 yo teen boy between a 16 yo girl and a 33 yo woman: “Tits? Check. Pussy? Check. Hot? Check. Let’s go!” There is no ticking box for age. Period.)

But this topic of the “horribly mentally scarred teen” brings me to a story I read some years ago in the DailyMail (yeah, I know). Back then one 16 year old guy was suing (and his formerly best friend being a witness) a then 47 year old woman, because when he and his mate were somewhere between 11 and 13 (I forgot), she offered them sex for demolating her exBF’s car.
They did so, and when it came time to pay, she had sex with them (seperately), but the first guy (the one suing) had a change of conscience.
WHILE ALREADY INSIDE HER, mind you!
He didn’t pull it through, and left before finishing (as if that would be lifting him from the guilt), just as his mate went in and proceeded to frak her.
Now he is allegedly horribly emotionally scarred.
Really? That is the tipping point?
Here’s the deal kiddo, review your life. All of it up to the point where a woman in her early fourties approaches you and says “Lay havoc on my ex Boyfriends car, and I’ll let you frak me”.
For ANY woman of ANY age to actively approach you with such a proposal, you have to have had a reputation. THAT is what’s wrong with you, everything you did up to that point in time. Not the incident with her riding you, but everything that led you there.

Speaking of wrong decisions, there is the “Bee Challenge” going on right now:
Women/Girls get naked (bewbs wise), put the bra over their face to have “insect eyes” and post a topless-bra-face-selfie on the net. It is a pointless trend, there is no deeper meaning behind it, like with the Icebucket challenge. I’m as much of a bewbs fan just as most hetero sexual men are, but this is getting crazy. If it would be for a noble cause (Breastcancer for example), I’d shut up. But it isn’t.

The obvious boner killing insect eye look aside, a bunch of attention-whores are fishing for even more attention and recognition by prostating themselves.
Why? Don’t you have ANY personality? Is this ALL you have to offer? What a bonerkill.

Once those facebook based (and thus traceable), public topless-insecteye-bra-face-selfies are published, what kind of backlash will that have on your carreer choices later in life? Other than a trip or two to the casting couch – I see little opportunity here.

But I sense another opportunity for solving our current time’s prolems: Nominate all these young actresses who are under the threat of having their pictures stolen for the Bee-Challenge, that way we have seen their “BOOBEES!” and everyone can live in peace!

In conclusion, there is something going wrong in terms of sexuality within our societies. On the one hand our prude cultures ban breasts and genitals from TV, references to acts of sexuality from songs (“No I’m lying in the [wet patch] and…” the one in the additional brackets is censored out), but on the other hand women in advertising are as scantly dressed like 14 year old girls, or, worse than street working prostitutes.

We need to come to our senses.
Sex is natural, interest in the opposite gender is natural, especially for puberty striken teens. Banning sex from TV, and restricting access to porn for minors isn’t the solution (“You must be 18 or over…” they already saw EVERYTHING, they touched it too! So drop that attitude!).

Sex ed has to be taken seriously, not something shunned as “teaching kids to have sex”. They know how to, it’s in our genes.
We need to teach them how to do it without harm, with decency, and not in public (need I remind you of the couple happily doing it in the subway and being filmed by several cellphone cameras?). Sex is not something you do on camera (unless you ARE 18 or older and you ARE filming a porno), and it is something you keep your mouth shut about.
Not to keep your teachers from getting in trouble, but for not making someone seem like a tramp/whore or whimp.
Girls, dress like girls, not whores. “XYZ’s next Top Model” is not supposed to be your rolemodel. Nor are any of the whores on TV. If you are 14, be a kid. Not a sex object. Guys are idiots to you more often than not, and if you really are in a consensual sexual relationship with one of them, talk to THEM, not your girls, not your parents.
Boys, girls are not objects, women aren’t either.  Treat them with respect, and don’t blabber about your sexual “conquests”. Act like boys, you are, after all, boys. The douche’s on TV aren’t your rolemodels, and you should become gentlemen, not douchebags. But first, be boys.

Decent, civilised, behaviour. Especially with one another.
Now.
Go forth and be happy.

A.

Cabin of Death returns…

So, before I start, let me give you a tour of the elevators I am frequenting.

The elevator at home is a cabinet the size of 1 meter times half a meter. The sign says “4 Persons”…what kind of persons? Anorexic teenagers lifted from a mental facility?
Once we tried. From 6th floor to ground floor. After two seconds we gasped for air, as the oxygen was gone withing that time, after another two seconds we were gasping for more air, as the elevator had gotten stuck.
But it is supposed to be able to lift “320 kp”.
What unit is “kp”? The opfficial weight meassure in my country is “KILOGRAMs” or “kg”. So what is “kp”? Kilo pound? That would make it 320,000 pounds. You can’t get to that number if you take four super fat americans who drink their coffee with extra added fat-milk!
So what is 320 kp meant to be?

Carrying on, the cabin of death at my work place is supposed to handle 10 people, or 1000 kilograms. Now, this is more reealistic. 100kg per person, times ten is 1000 kg. Plus it’s an actual weight unit.
We once got in six of us. And we’re not the american super weight people who are fatter than the fattest man alive from the 1950’s. Normal people, ranging between 60 and 100 kg. Mind you, we were six!
Immediately the alarm went off: BEEEEEP! and the red light lit up telling us that we were too heavy.

How do they come up with these arbitrary numbers of people allowed in the elevator anyways? I imagine they stuffed ten plastic mannequins in there, two rows of three, two piled up sideways between the rows and another two stuffed overhead. Then the engineers looked at each other and nodded, saying “ten?”
“Yes, ten.”

So, recently I got into one of the elevators at work, the doors closed, and – if you’re like me you have something in your hand. Cellphone, tablet, book, magazine, newspaper, anything to occupy your mind. – after a while you turn, like the good programmed little drones we are, and then it hits you! The bloody thing hasn’t moved a millimeter!
Frantically you start hitting all the buttons, door open, door close, all the floors, close to pressing the alarm button suddenly the door pops open on the floor you entered and you jump out!
Weird thing is, after this the elevator goes where it is supposed to. Not that I have ridden it out, I’m not going near the damn thing anymore.
Only recently I had waited for a bloke who had entered the thing before me, while holding the door of the other elevator. He came out, relieved to be free again, and thanked me for waiting.

So, the Cabin of Death strikes again. Repeatedly, all the while I hear people tell stories how they got trapped.

Take the stairs, people,
A.