November 23, 2005

He's back and he's got a new trick.. Magical Carlo is ten times as slick as the last time…

Writing about web page

So then here we are again.

Here we are trying to kill time that could be spent writing an essay. Time that could be spent doing something productive, although highly unlikely that might be. I haven't been posting on this blog since last year, and a lot of things have happened, but this blog looks exactly like I left it, except for a few differences like the fact that you can actually put equation in your text now! WOW! Gotta jump on THAT bandwagon! Anyway..

What mostly brought me back here to just rant on the internet (however futile it might be/seem) is the fact that I read a very interesting article today, about the life of youngsters (yes that's right it's your good 'ole grampa Ebeneezer talking) in the western world today. The article was actually very poorly written and uninsteresting in many ways which I will not specify, but the main issue that was brought up stayed with me: "Is the next generation 'worse' than us from a moral and ethical standpoint?"

My obivious reaction to this would have been "OF COURSE YEAH DURRRRRRRR!!1!1!11! LITTLE BASTARDS!!11!" if I were somekind of idiot, but it wasn't, it was more of a "yes, with some exceptions". Given the fact that it is almost human nature in my opinion to criticize any type of younger men or children from the height of one's moral pedestal acquired through experience and sometimes just plain, dumb and certain stupid choices, mistakes that have shapen you as an individual, but then after an accurate analysis I do have to say that there are certain factors that are making life a lot simpler for younger kids. Allow me to elaborate:

According to TV:


Either or


As you can probably deduce from what I just posted, the negative connotation to "simpler" is quite evident. I know I know it might seem a bit overzealous to post something like that with all the mitigating factors (one being that TV obviously doesn't influence EVERYONE), but it still sort of leaves of a bit dumbfounded, since if this is what TV and the modern world tell our youth, is it not pretty much blatant that the only direction we could possibly go is down?

I leave judgement to the masses.

December 06, 2004

Airport blues

Just to prove that I am different from the crowd, that I can think with my own non-conformist commie mind and to prove my point that anything different from the crowd is the best to go for I am writing this entry in an airport.

Yes that’s right, I am currently using my laptop battery to the fullest by writing this entry
In an airport café waiting for the flight to start checking in, and that will be in about 1 hour 20 minutes, so I got plenty of time to concoct crap that will annoy you people to the point at which you will be asking for mercy in the form of death in an acid bath, which is not pleasant believe me.

I’ve been waiting for about 2 hours for my flight now, which means I can pretty much say that I am halfway through the wait (if you count the time the plane actually leaves this place) and so far I’ve had about 7 different people sitting at the table behind me, while I have remained stationary in my position for all of this time. What is even more inconvenient is that before I started writing this entry I was reading and the sound of the utter crap that these people were talking about quite annoyed me. A few excerpts from conversations that really intrigued me:

“I never really liked Dr. Morgan anyway, she’s so abrupt and to be honest I don’t like her.”

—Old hag talking to other old hag about some other sick old hag (5/12/2004 10:40 AM)

“You just can’t make the assumption that wherever you’ll go I’ll follow”

—Bride of a young couple who is heading to a random location (5/12/2004 10:56 AM)

“He’s going to have to get his bag so that’s going to take a while you see”

—Middle aged woman talking about some guy who I have no idea of (5/12/2004 12:15 PM)

And now, for my personal favorite:

“I’ze want da doubwe cheezburgah! Do dey hev dat one?”

—Teenager waiting in line at the Burger King (5/12/2004 12:34 PM)

After trying to watch Underworld a movie I would personally avoid if I were a person with more brain capacity than a slice of lemon drizzle cake I started pondering about a few ideas that were popping around my head, precisely about fast food restaurants and how to make them better.

One of the main things I noticed about many fast food chains is the poor choice of colors in their restaurants. Who wants to go to a restaurant with BLUE, YELLOW and RED walls (yes, I capitalized the colors to make more emphasis on the brightness) in the case of Burger King that is right next to me at the moment Or GREEN and RED for Sbarro which is a pseudo Italian chain who hasn’t realized that Italian does not equal Mexican, and that you do not need to name Italian dishes with Spanish names to make them sound cooler than English just because you don’t know anything regarding cultures outside your continent (not making any allusions here). I think that simply changing the colors to some less aggressive eye gouging wavelengths might be a more interesting change to the atmosphere than creating new dishes and saying they’re healthier by putting the same amount of grease you’d find on a hamburger on a salad.

I have to go see if my flight has started checking in, I’ll close this entry here.


November 14, 2004

Order number: 205309470946098

Hmm… Jaffa cakes.. It's truly amazing how these things get addicting..

You might think that this sentence above is a misuse of punctuation, topped with the little cherry-on-the-top-of-the-cake useless topic that should appeal to the general public to create a misterious start of blog that lures the general reader like an insect towards a bug-light, only to be stung by the cruel spark of the realization that this entry is nothing else than the spirit of the blogger: The art of babbling. The art to sit in front of a computer and just allow two entities, the brain and the hands, to work separately to build what is truly a castle built with immaginary bricks, a mansion of nothingness and wasted time.

Anyway, today is another one of those weekends where you simply do not have the slightest will to go out, the littlest will to do something and the faintest idea of where EVERYBODY WENT! NOONE IS AROUND! And on a second and possibly lighter note, I have also been thinking (yes, surprisingly) about going back home for vacation, and how weird that would feel. Yes, for after all you've started living away for the first time and I guess your parents haven't really seen you for a while, and this is their first chance in 8 weeks and I predict it should be awfully akward, yet filled with facts to expose and stories to tell about your 8 weeks at university.

1950's parent mode off

Now everyone might have known me for being quite a passionate man when it comes to doing things, but the collateral side to this is that yours truly seems to get quite annoyed when things don't go quite as they're supposed to go. A blatant example of this is my little UPS adventure, which everyone that knows me has had a fill on, either by me telling the story of simply by rumors of me "switching" whenever I seem to hear the three letter acronym that spells out "Useless Parcel Service" along with lots of raised middle fingers at the UPS trucks that go down University Road once every so often. In fact, i've even made a little work of art to describe my feelings toward that wonderful company that has managed to have my parcel arrive over 3 weeks late:

Ah the memories…

But apart from that little incident that occurred it seems as though the new shipping company I use, DHL, seems to have delivered everything properly to my surprise after losing faith in them. Woo-hoo!

I think you readers might have picked out the main idea of this image, and I hope will act accordingly even though I know my opinion is truly worth close to nothing.

Until then, please stick up your middle finger at UPS trucks as they pass please, they deserve it!



November 06, 2004

Oh so you HAVE to write a title here huh? FASCISTS!

Saturday 6/11/2004, 5:21 PM.

In a room at Westwood Gosford, precisely room G107, a man is typing on a keyboard.
He's been very tired for most of the day, due to the fact that he has been sleeping to much this morning and he managed to screw up his whole biological clock by doing so. He never really thought about the fact that being an international student, it's quite hard to be in hall of residence when all of your friends basically leave for their homes for the weekend, since it gets pretty lonely.

He picks up the guitar that his friend has lent him for the weekend (he doesn't play it but he's starting and feels pretty confident about it) and plays the beginning of Adam's Song by Blink 182 (he just learned it by looking at tabs over the internet) trying to figure out what to write on his blog entry. It's oftern very hard to come up with stimulating stuff for him, since he's trying to make his blog interesting and different from the usual "I went to the store yesterday it was soo coool oh my god I met this cute girl/boy and we had coffee together oh yeah and here's a picture of my ass so I can get more visitors" blogs that infest the internet like a plague of egoism and shallowness that devours anything that even looks remotely like a display of human intelligence. Oh yeah and don't forget pet pictures, those are very interesting too obviously since EVERYONE wants to look at your cat don't they?

Looking out the window he sees the usual tree that is outside his hall and just before the road, almost stripped of its leaves by the creeping cold advancing like a trench day by day and that will take over completely on a full scale war that is winter. He remembers that tree having all of its leaves when it was here, and realizes that quite a lot of time has passed since he has been here, and that there are about 4 weeks left until the term ends. Until then he'll just stay here and watch every day repeat itself in a spiral of sexual frustration, caffeine binges and good friends.

After 6 weeks his legs have become accustomed to the 30 minute walk and have become his sidekicks in his adventures by robotically maneuvering themselves among the preprogrammed morning path to Gibbet Hill when the superior part of his body is either in a state of semi-daze with his brain only 20% active or when he's just plain old drunk on certain nights (obviously the path is only half way during these occasions, thank god). He thinks that this whole entry could be summed up with the saying "It's been a long time now" but then again blogs are the essence of useless babbling about the most trivial subjects right?

It is now 6:07 PM, and he has just stopped typing.

October 20, 2004


Bastard blog system just ate my whole entry, I hate you IT Services!

I guess all that's left for me is to post a picture of Phenylalanine:

October 19, 2004


I guess at this point you're wondering why I put indian curry in my title for the entry eh? Well the answer is I have no clue myself, so don't even ask or I'll maul you.

A funny thing happened to me today, and (obviously omitting names) I am willing to share it with the world, but first I want to ask this question:

Have you ever burnt all bridges with someone? Have you stopped talking/seeing/thinking about someone to the point that he does not exist anymore?

Well let's just say that something like that happened to me today, and I seem to be very reluctant to do so. Maybe it's just me, but I'm too much of a nice guy to completely shun someone out of my world and literally pretend he's not there. This person is a member of the opposite sex (I do have contact with them once in a while :P) that has pretty much deceived me and led me to think that I was the one for her, but that turned out completely wrong and I kinda hate her now for that. Just the fact that she used me for fun to throw me away like a used toy makes my blood boil, and I truly hate her for this.

But then again this person contacts me during the night, with apologies, yet a very controversial statement of hers which is not truly convincing as well. I reiterate I never really hated anyone, but this just plainly pisses me off, especially knowing what she did.

But I guess I can't just burn all bridges with you can I? So I hope you read this entry, just to make you give an idea of the situation, and how to mend things up after what you've done.

Oh, and by mending things up you just might get a remote chance of talking to me again, and i'm obviously not going to help you make things better it's up to you,you and only you.

On a lighter note, a picture of me with a gas mask:

October 15, 2004


Finally in my permanent room. After 3 weeks of wait to get my final room (yes, I'm one of those who used to share a room in westwood) I have managed to nab the most important thing that there was to nab: Space. Without my living space my mental approach to Warwick was simply that it was a vacation that wouldn't last too long, an ephemeral moment in the middle of my life which would be remembered as very fun, yet very short. Now that I have my own room it seems as though I finally have realized that this is it, that in fact this is the final place I will be staying at for the rest of the year! I'm quite happy about it, and after all I can finally call this place home without anyone barging in at 5:00 am waking me up!

But apart from that I guess I don't have anymore problems left, apart from my bank account which seems like a very annoying and tedious process since I still have to get my student status letter (a little piece of paper that states that you actually are a student at Warwick that all international students need) to finally allow me to open a damn bank account in England (a process that takes a WEEK!).

In case you're blind or your alcohol/THC/psychotrophic drug clouded neurons still need to realize what's going on you've ended up on the second entry of my blog, my little outpost where I express my opinions with a very narrow-minded and very authoritarian approach, yet comments are always welcome..

Hmm what to talk about now? I guess some random crap might be useful to fill some spaces up and give people the impression that I'm actually writing something instead, since they probably don't even know what's here after realizing that this man is close to useless in blogging :P I guess I should post a photo of me to get people acquainted to the figure of the man that you need to lynch after reading this entry and having offended your intelligence, or how about no? since I don't have my digital photo library anymore so I guess you'll just have to settle for a photo which was taken about 6 months ago when I still had short hair..

October 06, 2004

This is it..

Well then, I guess this is where I finally start my blogging experience at Warwick. I've been blogging on other sites ( but let's just say that I am completely virgin to this type of blog (much more professional than my old one).

Where do I start off? Well first I'd like to proudly say that this blog has two parents: Boredom and Fatigue. In fact, it has been automatically assembled under my eyes by the Warwick servers due to a Biology essay that I am currently writing that has drained all of my mental energies. (Cat I know you'll be pissed at seeing me doing this instead of my essay, but you have to understand.. One must take a break from boring crap to refresh the mind..)

As Badly Drawn Boy accompany the typing sound of my laptop keys I look outside and it's already dark. I've been working for about 4 hours straight on this essay, and if I write one more letter I swear my head is going to burst in an orgy of brain fragments and blood.

Screw this, I'm off.

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