tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-111668462011-12-15T04:04:36.522+01:00"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. ~ Edward Abbey"bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.comBlogger1211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1148868958189476942006-05-29T04:14:00.000+02:002006-05-29T04:15:58.190+02:00

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1144631757546955012006-04-10T03:11:00.000+02:002006-04-10T03:15:57.640+02:00

Europe died in AuschwitzSebastian Villar Rodriguez, a Spanish journalist, Front Page MagI was walking along Raval (Barcelona) when all of a sudden Iunderstood that Europe died with Auschwitz.We assassinated 6 million Jews in order to end up bringing in 20million Muslims!We burnt in Auschwitz the culture, intelligence and power to create.We burnt the people of the world, the one who is proclaimed

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1144231938631549052006-04-05T12:11:00.000+02:002006-04-05T12:12:18.673+02:00

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1143924857156249352006-04-01T22:53:00.000+02:002006-04-01T22:54:17.210+02:00

before I forget..... Im going to stop blogging.I might post about it in a few days.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1143513202539485912006-03-28T04:32:00.000+02:002006-03-28T04:33:22.606+02:00

In four days an important announcement will be made on this blog.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1143422634874469742006-03-27T03:23:00.000+02:002006-03-27T03:23:54.913+02:00

Important!!In 5 days an important announcement will be posted on this blog!

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1143087150660822312006-03-23T04:58:00.000+01:002006-03-23T05:12:30.713+01:00

A friend of mine send me a link to a site that scans your photo and tells you which celebrity you look like. So tonight, with fingers trembling with anticipation, I managed to upload a shot and here's the result. Not bad, now if only I could move like him, my life would be perfect. Maybe I should have taken up Karate instead of synchronised swimming. Looks exactly like my grandfather. Yep!

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1142478693764832242006-03-16T03:46:00.000+01:002006-03-16T05:04:53.296+01:00

Fineartists last two posts really caught my attention. The loving words of a mother. In one post she sings a song of love for her (extremely attractive) daughter. In the next she grieves for not being able to protect her from the follies of youth. I advise everybody to read them, they're touching.Now as a man, reading about the woes of such a loved little princess, just makes me mad. It makes me

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1142397925936313812006-03-15T05:28:00.000+01:002006-03-15T06:36:55.276+01:00

"The leading rule for the lawyer, as for the man of every other calling, is diligence. Leave nothing for to-morrow which can be done to-day."-- Abraham Lincoln From the July 1, 1850Lincoln. A great man. A wise man. A man that led a struggling nation to the cessation of hostilities. A man that mended that what seemed to be broken beyond repair. A man that freed those who were oppressed. A leader

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1142234292756891872006-03-13T07:36:00.000+01:002006-03-13T08:25:10.286+01:00

Nothing feels as good as a good old-fashioned depression. I cannot even begin to sing the glories of that rarified spiritual state called depression. Now there are some garden-variety amateur psychologists out there who will say: `But Bulb, depression is a bad thing.´ To those idiots I say: ´Go thee yonder for thou hast not understood the depths of the joy of suffering.´Most people don´t have a

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1141709213758686182006-03-07T06:26:00.000+01:002006-03-07T06:26:53.793+01:00

Time for some facts:* 25% of American men and 45% of American women are on a diet on any given day (Smolak, 1996).* Americans spend over $40 billion on dieting and diet-related products each year (Smolak, 1996).* The average American woman is 5'4" tall and weighs 140 pounds. The average American model is 5'11" tall and weighs 117 pounds. Most fashion models are thinner than 98% of American women

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1140692141416646312006-02-23T11:47:00.000+01:002006-02-23T11:55:41.450+01:00

This morning I took Mickey to the doctor. He is sick. Very sick. There is a treatment, but I won´t be able to give it to him. It requires me to give him two insuline injections per day. With my work hours, that´s impossible.If I don´t give him the injections he will die. The doctor said it will be quick. She gave him another three months. He´ll go blind. His kidneys will fail and one day he´ll

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1139681990257796992006-02-11T18:40:00.000+01:002006-02-11T19:24:10.860+01:00

When I was seventeen, I traveled all over India. I visited holy places. Met holy men. Had discussions with saints and monks. Read sacred texts and even memorized quite a couple of them.It wasn't so much that I was searching for myself, or in need of a deeper spiritual dimension to life. It's quite hard when rivers of hormones are raging through your already hot blood, and even toothless old

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1139145856318619102006-02-05T14:08:00.000+01:002006-02-05T14:24:18.043+01:00

What is more interesting is how this timeless cycle of "Them versus US" continues, with each party acting and feeling all righteous whilst the devil and all else that should be condemned is safely and perfectly casted out in a projection onto the Damned OTHER I'm not interested in details of who did what, I am interested in the universal patterns and themes. I won't even begin to blog about the

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1138983011636180572006-02-03T17:00:00.000+01:002006-02-04T02:50:03.786+01:00

When planes flew into the WTC there was a deafening silence from the east. (Apart from some joyful shouting and AK's being fired in the air.) After the London bombings there was once again a deafening silence from the east. (Apart from.....) When my favorite columnist and cineast Theo van Gogh was murdered, no muslim apologised.A couple of months ago a Danish newspaper published some cartoons of

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1138822692112961382006-02-01T20:26:00.000+01:002006-02-01T20:38:12.170+01:00

With an overwhelming majority of votes (3 of them), Sassy beat Rain (2 votes), leaving the rest of us far behind.As soon as I finish off this post, I'll hack Sassy's blog and put up the award there.We still have two late entries, which are both definitely worth reading:Best Ex-Girlfriend - by Daisysmiles - It's sick, it's perverted and it's about pussy!My Last Story for Januari - by Sassy - It's

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1138417633709132652006-01-28T03:17:00.000+01:002006-01-28T04:30:21.526+01:00

Gaze in Utter Awe. Yee is the Award for the saddest sickest and most twisted story of 2006 Do ye not drool at the sight? Do ye not wish to adorn yonder blog with this here award? But this here award is not for everybody. This here award is not for the faint of heart. Only the most traumatised, the most depressed and depressing blogger will earn the right to proudly and boldly show the world

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1138105578588091272006-01-24T13:23:00.000+01:002006-01-27T12:04:10.656+01:00

If you're on dial-up, be patient, this is worth the wait. And if it says something like: "Movie not available right now.", keep trying. This is a must-see. Now all of you go over to Yeemans and tell her happy birthday. She may be a bit weird, but she's good people.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1137954572842102132006-01-22T18:31:00.000+01:002006-01-23T17:21:01.896+01:00

A couple of years ago, I returned home from a party. (Utterly Drunk!) Since it was "one of those" parties, I came home pretty frustrated. (And alone.)Not wanting to waste a precious build-up of adrenaline, I decided to pay a visit to a chatroom and yell at the third world losers who can't do anything better with our foreign aid than buy computers and sit in Internet cafes all day. (Can't blame

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1137583562778035122006-01-18T11:45:00.000+01:002006-01-18T14:46:54.773+01:00

There's a loneliness in all of us. There's a tangible sense of abandonment that we all feel. You feel it. I feel it. The deaf-mute kid at the corner of the block feels it. The antisocial borderline person that raped your sisters kid feels it. The Arab that hated all infidels and flew into the Trade Centers feels it.It's there. It's pervasive.He went out. He raped a little kid and hid her body.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1137474437979601682006-01-17T06:04:00.000+01:002006-01-17T06:10:07.096+01:00

Stole this one from CherylTen Top Trivia Tips about Bulb! Bulb can't drink - he absorbs water from his surroundings by osmosis.Bulb is the only bird that can swim but not fly.Moles are able to tunnel through 300 feet of Bulb in a day.Czar Paul I banished Bulb to Siberia for marching out of step.Bulb was originally green, and actually contained cocaine.Cats use their Bulb to test whether a space

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1137465277959338982006-01-17T03:15:00.000+01:002006-01-17T03:42:01.376+01:00

I wanted to write a couple of sad stories this month. Make you all feel depressed and sorry for me. But do you people grant me that little pleasure? Hell no! You guys have to top the worst of my life with stories of neglect, sexual and physical abuse, parents trying to shoot each other and suicide.Hell! I get the impression you guys went through all that shit just to spoil my little "Look Bulb is

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1137200096633518032006-01-14T01:54:00.000+01:002006-01-14T01:59:39.946+01:00

For those of you new to this page, (All 30 or so a day of you), januari is the sick, twisted, sad and disturbing stories month. In contrast to popular rumor, this is not a meme. (Thank you FineArtist.) This is a serious affair, specifically aimed at making Sassy feel better by showing that we've all gone through some bad shit and survived.My sad story for today is that I've been suffering. Last

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1136471462883296272006-01-05T14:51:00.000+01:002006-01-05T15:31:02.970+01:00

So far the response to the sad, sick, twisted and disturbing stories award has been overwhelming.Bullet Hole - Rain (Interior decorating gone haywire.)I've been Tagged - Jessie (Life-time vacation in hell.)The amazing Bulb's disturbing story award entry #1 - Le Chameau (Armed robbery, jail, hospitals, depression, suicide and an impossible love. This would make a hell of a movie.)He's Going To

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1136234298558512872006-01-02T20:59:00.000+01:002006-01-02T21:38:18.596+01:00

It's Januari. The snow is snowing and the wind is blowing. (And I'm freezing my ass off.) So in honor of my dear friend Sassy, I've decided to proclaim Januari to be sick, twisted, sad and disturbing stories month.This month I will only be posting sad, sick, twisted and disturbing stories. I invite all the people in my friends list to do the same: Fine artist, Cloddy, Evil Krissy, Sassy (don't

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1135915836298337932005-12-30T04:29:00.000+01:002005-12-30T05:12:29.450+01:00

War hit my family hard. I grew up hearing the stories of the camps. I grew up thinking the camps were fun! Mommy always had a funny or cute story about her childhood in the barracks. How each day one of the children was allowed to lick off my grandmothers plate. (She still does that and I hate it.) My grandmother told my mother everyday that the soldiers had eyes in the back of their heads, so

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1135831636511366962005-12-29T05:47:00.000+01:002005-12-29T05:47:16.513+01:00

I just realized something horrible. There are thousands and thousands of women out there that have never had an orgasm.Let's all take a moment to let that awful truth sink in. Hundreds of thousands of women that never had an orgasm. Makes you wander doesn't it? Makes you wonder why I am writing this stupid blog when I could be teaching some poor tart the meaning of multiples. Makes you wonder

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1135822492283685502005-12-29T03:14:00.000+01:002005-12-30T06:24:31.410+01:00

how jedi are you? :: by lawrie malenI knew that.Which "Saved By The Bell" Character Are You?(Well..... Had I answered the questions honestly I'd have probably turned out to be screech.)The Movie Of Your Life Is Film NoirSo what if you're a little nihilistic at times?Life with meaning is highly over-rated. Your best movie matches: Sin City, L. A. Confidential, Blade RunnerIf Your Life Was a Movie,

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1135279518742427302005-12-22T20:24:00.000+01:002005-12-22T20:25:18.776+01:00

Curvy and NaughtyRaw score: 51% Big Breasts, 50% Big Ass, and 40% Cute! Thanks for taking the T and A and C test! Based on your selections, the results are clear: you show an attraction to larger breasts, larger asses, and sexier composures than others who've taken the test. Note that you like women overall curvier than average. My third variable, "cuteness" is a mostly objective measure of how

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1135192109809271952005-12-21T19:56:00.000+01:002005-12-21T20:08:29.836+01:00

I have such an exciting life.Today I got strangled, punched, kicked, bitten, and had I had any hair, they would have pulled it.I inadvertantly fondled a womans ass for a couple of minutes while trying to grab her pants.Some seriously attractive women took turns jumping on top of me.A 240 pound security guy started nibbling my ear, and kissing my cheeck. AFTER he wrestled me to the ground. (He had

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1134525569723730442005-12-14T01:38:00.000+01:002005-12-14T04:34:41.876+01:00

Main Entry: emas·cu·latePronunciation: i-'mas-ky&-"lAtFunction: transitive verbInflected Form(s): -lat·ed; -lat·ingEtymology: Latin emasculatus, past participle of emasculare, from e- + masculus male -- more at MALE1 : to deprive of strength, vigor, or spirit : WEAKEN2 : to deprive of virility or procreative power : CASTRATE3 : to remove the androecium of (a flower) in the process of

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1134264717736179222005-12-11T00:18:00.000+01:002005-12-11T02:31:57.833+01:00

As some of you might have noticed, I didn't post for quite some time. I told everybody that I didn't have the time. I lied. Actually I wrote a lot of stuff. I just couldn't publish it for various reasons. Below a short selection of articles I didn't publish with reasons for not publishing.-Whats this burning sensation? - After seeing my doctor I decided that publishing this might harm my (already

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1133970505004900552005-12-07T16:21:00.000+01:002005-12-07T16:48:25.143+01:00

I couldn't sleep the other day. I was awake all night worrying about the state of the world. Shit like that happens when you get older. It starts with worrying about shit, followed by impotence, prostrate problems, syphillis, and finally death. Im growing old.One of the nurses at work commented on my sleepy eyes. I told her about it. Now nurses come in two kinds. Nurses with psychotherapeutic

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1127305006780536852005-09-21T13:51:00.000+02:002005-09-21T14:16:46.816+02:00

I'm in Istanbul right now and Psychoturk and I just broke up. Maybe I should have seen it coming. What does it mean when a woman keeps saying: "Let's just be frıends.", everytime I take my clothes off.And what is with: "You know, you should really find another girlfriend." Women say the strangest things! So what could I do? I told her we were through! That'll show her!The upside of this is that

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1125331980512679272005-08-29T18:12:00.000+02:002005-08-29T18:13:00.526+02:00

Somewhere in Amsterdam there is a large livingroom. It's spacious and beautifully furnished. There's a kitchen with all appliances, comfortable modern living demands. There's a big screen television set with the remote control nailed down to the table. A small section, maybe 12 square meters, the section adjacent to the windows, has been carved out with glass walls. It has a clinical look, and

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1124833677419657672005-08-23T23:23:00.000+02:002005-08-24T13:24:50.976+02:00

I hate kids.I fucking hate kids.I hate them all. I hate short kids, tall kids, young kids, old kids. In short. I fucking hate all kids.I was a kid myself once, long ago. It was a traumatic experience, not just because I was a thing to detest, (a kid), but because I seemed to be spending most of my time with other kids. And I hated all of them. Still do.Hate them.Kids need to learn some fucking

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1124743940015484362005-08-22T22:50:00.000+02:002005-08-22T22:53:08.070+02:00

You know........ I always suspected it.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1124396000051521192005-08-18T21:55:00.000+02:002005-08-18T22:13:20.063+02:00

Me goes: "Im back" Everybody goes (in awe and adoration): "Oh Bulb you're back" Me goes: "Yes you bunch of twisted motherfuckers that's what I said."Everybody goes: "Oh Bulb, Oh Bulb, tell us what happened, but not too fast, cause we like to take notes."Me goes: "I was busy."All the guys go: "Uh Oh. Ok. Welcome back, have a beer."All the chicks go: "What the fuck? You think I got nothing better

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122908628986964502005-08-01T16:52:00.000+02:002005-08-01T17:03:49.063+02:00

In Jungian theory, the unconscious compensates the conscious. So a dream, should as a rule be interpreted as an attempt to compensate a lob-sided conscious attitude.I had the strangest dream last night. I was at a mall at the shore and in a crowd of people I spotted Al Jarreau. So I did what any normal person would do. I got down on my knees and worshipped the ground he walked on. Of course I

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122737747639451252005-07-30T17:09:00.000+02:002005-07-31T13:52:19.790+02:00

MeMe's, the bane of the serious blogger. Within a short time-span these eyesores have taken over the blogworld. Many a lesser blogger has had the awful audacity to post hundreds of these literary doodoos. Let me tell you something. If you are too stupid to come up with your own shit to write, you have no business having a blog anyway.That being said. My friend Cheryl, blogster extraordinair, sent

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122668478597129072005-07-29T21:25:00.000+02:002005-07-29T22:27:05.806+02:00

As some of you might know, I'm an ardent believer in reincarnation. When Guru Jaghjit explained that most of my problems were related to problematic encounters in my past life, I was sold. I have been in reincarnation group therapy now for the last few years. With the help of hypnosis, rebirthing and a large variety of adult toys, I have been able to determine that in my last life, I was.....An

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122469556425397172005-07-27T14:23:00.000+02:002005-07-27T21:39:10.303+02:00

I'm a nice guy. I'm handsome, intelligent, well-educated and well-mannered. Still, I couldn't get laid if I shaved my ass and stuck a lollipop in it.It's not that I don't know how to handle women or how to talk to them. I know that full well. But it just always seems to come out wrong.Example: I'm sitting on my couch with a girl who could have been my daughter. There are candles burning, Diana

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122375716968082682005-07-26T12:26:00.000+02:002005-07-27T00:02:53.063+02:00

It seems bloggers for the most part are spending more time increasing their blog traffic, then on writing quality articles. It's a bitch when you spend so much time crafting a witty post, and nobody reads it. Completely frustrated at my lack of readers, I set off on a quest to uncover the secrets of the holy statcounter. This resulted in five holy laws that must be followed by every blogger,

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122243034205972472005-07-25T00:06:00.000+02:002005-07-25T00:12:47.740+02:00

Okay, I promised I wouldn't post chat transcripts anymore. But this one was too good to pass up. biker_chick90_210 (23:50:10): Are you a woman? cojones2006 (23:50:47): depends biker_chick90_210 (23:51:16): o im not gay or anything i only need to ask a question that deals with the 5th harry potter movie they r soon gonna make cojones2006 (23:51:33): ok. cojones2006 (23:51:44): but you sure sound

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1122055128560591212005-07-22T19:33:00.000+02:002005-07-22T23:45:40.993+02:00

Over the past month, a series of bombs have hit the great city of London. It is as yet unclear how many have died, how many will be maimed for life and how many will be scarred in their psyche for life. A gross and inhuman act in the name of "the religion of peace". At present it is generally expected that further bombings will follow.Big Mistake.Now I don't like England. I don't like the weather

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1121876375838688572005-07-20T17:44:00.000+02:002005-07-20T19:34:28.303+02:00

We live in a therapeutic society. Everything that happens to everyone has to be discussed, analyzed and finally worked through. We just don't feel complete anymore without our daily dose of orgasmic catharsis. Everyone is in therapy.We've had a hundred years of psychotherapy and guess what? (Everybody say: "What?") The world is getting worse! Somehow we've gotten this idea that neurosis is bad;

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1121714142006362312005-07-18T21:11:00.000+02:002005-07-18T21:15:42.016+02:00

Don't even start laughing. The bitch won an award.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1121676862883547032005-07-18T10:50:00.000+02:002005-07-18T10:54:22.890+02:00

I've been working on a new layout for my blog. It's damn hard, cause I know absolutely zilch about software. But it seems to be getting better. Visit the link and tell me what you think.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1121360399823565492005-07-14T18:59:00.000+02:002005-07-15T19:27:30.980+02:00

A recent posts on Sassy's blog convinced me that it is time for some good ole-fashioned mom-bashing. The only positive thing I can say about my mother, is that she is rotten to the core. Don't get me wrong. It's a positive thing. I have never met anyone who is more in touch with her dark side than her. From my father I may have inherited such things as the ability to work hard, honor, values and

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1121200571764001882005-07-12T22:22:00.000+02:002005-07-14T19:06:02.653+02:00

I just spent more than a week without internet. It was horrible. I don't know how I survived. Worst of all, I didn't have to go to work, so all day there was nothing to do but stare at my dysfunctional computer. (Which somehow really reminded me of my sexlife.)I took up running again. I cooked for myself. I cleaned my whole house. (twice)I quit drinking. I only ate vegetables. I started going to

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1120822475254095022005-07-08T13:32:00.000+02:002005-07-08T13:34:35.260+02:00

Two nights ago, just when I was about to talk evil Krissy into taking her clothes off on cam, my connection stopped.And it hasn't been on since. So I dunno when I'll be back.see ya.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1120428557378316412005-07-04T00:08:00.000+02:002005-07-04T00:09:17.386+02:00

Inspired by my friend Evil Krissy's article Penis, I've done a lot of thinking and soulsearching, trying to become more in touch with my feminine side. Let's get one thing straight though. If I were to have tits, they'd be massive, humongous, hughe and firm! Cause that's the kind of guy I am.1. Stare and drool at my nude body in the mirror all day.2. Wear a t-shirt without a bra. Pinch my nipples

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1120382179141069942005-07-03T10:34:00.000+02:002005-07-03T11:20:36.133+02:00

There is no sociological phenomena, more intriguing, more baffling, than 'the party'. Throughout my life, I've been trying to understand why humans feel the need to occasionally gather in their hippest outfits, for a bout of funny dancing, binge drinking and the mass consumption of cocktail wieners on sticks.There are 'ok' parties, which involve free beer, nudity and me going home with a chick

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1120235146291613822005-07-01T18:14:00.000+02:002005-07-01T18:27:10.313+02:00

So I called her."Hi, this is the bulb, remember? Big guy, friendly eyes.""Yeah, I know who you are. How are you?""I got the things you asked for..........." (Tax bullshit I wont bother you with.)"I got one more question regarding my taxes, how about you and me get together over dinner?""Wow. Bulb! I ..... eh...... great! I was hoping you'd ask. Let me give you my private number."At leat in a

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1120067627849994252005-06-29T19:26:00.000+02:002005-06-29T19:53:47.856+02:00

I used to hate paying taxes. It's not the money. It's not that almost 50% of my earnings disappear into the bottomless pockets of our socialist government. It's not that MY money is spent on such completely unnecessary bullshit as trafficlights and social security checks. It's the paperworkI used to hate paying taxes. Until today.Financially I finally made it into the league where I can afford my

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119993829852037472005-06-28T23:04:00.000+02:002005-06-28T23:23:49.880+02:00

There is no consensus amongst men regarding what women want. The only consensus we seem to be able to reach is that women do not want what they say they want.Example: (Taken from random (free) dating site.)"I like a man to be sensitive, understanding and funny. A man who is not affraid to show his feminine side. A man who will laugh with me when I'm happy and who will cry with me when I am sad. A

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119892769188061372005-06-27T19:02:00.000+02:002005-06-27T19:19:29.196+02:00

Yesterday was a day of great joy, in the Netherlands, for another crownprincess has been born into our royal family. It was a day of festive celebration. Peasants left their fields and gathered in make-shift barn cafes to drink themselves into a comatose slumber. Labourers marched the street, cheering and chanting their support for our aristocracy. Or at least it should have been that kind of

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119549643282597122005-06-23T19:21:00.000+02:002005-06-23T20:00:44.506+02:00

It's not easy growing up to be a man. At a certain age, all women get this divine, angelic quality. As if they are the guardians of the supreme secret of immortality. At that age, young men will start collecting panties they stole from the laundry room. (I never did that.) (No really, I didn't.) At that age, even looking at a pretty woman feels like you're breaking some kind of biblical taboo.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119536812272067032005-06-23T16:26:00.000+02:002005-06-23T16:26:52.276+02:00

For those ladies (and perchance gentlemen), who are wondering: I drive a really small car.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119379300562169542005-06-21T20:13:00.000+02:002005-06-21T20:41:44.763+02:00

When I was small, we had a hughe backyard, with many fruittrees, flowerbeds, vegetables and herbs, and of course our chicken pen. There was always an ample supply of fresh fruit, vegetables, eggs and poultry. In our humble backyard farm, I grew up at one with the land and its gifts.Slaughtering the chickens was no different from harvesting the cherries or the cabbage. It was a chore, not an

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119216393979131752005-06-19T22:49:00.000+02:002005-06-19T23:26:33.986+02:00

When first I went to India, I was 16 years old, rosey-cheecked and chubby. I was sent to a tailor for my new schooluniform. The uniforms, when I finally got them, didn't quite fit me, because I had lost 13 kg between the tailor taking my measurements and me receiving them.The shits. The Delhi Belly. The Bombay Bongo. The Paki Poo. Whatever went into my mouth made it to my ass within the hour. Hot

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1119097089958008692005-06-18T14:13:00.000+02:002005-06-18T19:13:35.283+02:00

Computergames make me sick. Literally. They're like drugs. I shouldn't touch them, go near them. Still, I can't help it. I'm an addict.A few days ago, I discovered the Kingdom of Loathing. It's a MMORPG (yes, I do know what that is, no, I'm not going to explain it.). KOL is like Everquest or World of Warhammer, only better. For, not only is it free, the whole game revolves around MEAT! And who

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1118955269252114472005-06-16T22:52:00.000+02:002005-06-16T23:08:59.120+02:00

Steadily my blog seems to be transforming into the kind of page I wouldn't want my future ex-wife to see. Maybe I need to clean up my act. Start writing about flowers and butterflies and shit.But before I do that, I just have to tell the story of my friend Fred.About a decade or two ago, I had a friend called Fred. His name wasn't really "Fred". It might have been "Eugene", or "Oliver", who cares

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1118856632455052382005-06-15T19:09:00.000+02:002005-06-15T19:49:13.533+02:00

There is, on yahoo, a chatroom called "self-realization and awareness", that I get invariably thrown out of after 20 minutes of chat. I'm a great self-realization guy. I'm really into awareness and shit. But who the hell figured that self-realization starts above the waist?You want self-realization? You want awareness? First make peace with your dick. (Or feminine unmentionables, if that's what

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1118434772144663082005-06-10T21:54:00.000+02:002005-06-10T22:19:32.156+02:00

Mother likes to snoop. She's fond of going through my kitchen cabinets, my administration and my wardrobe. This brutal invasion of my privacy has already backfired on her several times during my lifetime. I can remember her giving me the "female exploitation" talk when she found my first playboy magazine. My dad was sitting in the background reading the newspaper, occasionally proudly smiling at

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1118354262205404302005-06-09T23:55:00.000+02:002005-06-09T23:58:50.193+02:00

I'm trying to teach my cat to kiss me. I bought some (90%yeast, 9% milkproducts, 1% fish) salmon flavoured cat candy; put it between my lips and hover my head in front of his. He started out by just slapping the thing out of my mouth with his paw. Yesterday he saw fit to bite my upper lip so hard it brought tears to my eyes. And today he just sat there and looked at me.You think he's trying to

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1118072066626434052005-06-06T17:08:00.000+02:002005-06-06T17:35:16.806+02:00

It is my fate, that most of my social life is dominated by single mothers with fourteen year old sons. As any primary school teacher will be able to tell you, some of those fourteen year olds are gems and some are boogers. I have no idea what makes one fourteen year old grow up to be a man, and the other grow up to be a booger. Freud would probably have a great theory on it if he were still alive

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117840339194457822005-06-04T01:11:00.000+02:002005-06-04T01:12:19.196+02:00

Which Revenge of the Sith Character are you?created with QuizFarm.com

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117740942029811392005-06-02T20:37:00.000+02:002005-06-03T00:28:12.073+02:00

IntroductionThis is a post for guys. As some of you know, through my years of experience with the weaker sex, I've become quite the expert on issues of male survival. Besides, being a very empathic and understanding man, I feel I have learnt to really relate to the irrational and emotional upheaval a woman necessarily goes through once a month.Understanding the problemUnderstanding the emotional

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117563910445108172005-05-31T19:46:00.000+02:002005-06-09T23:59:53.306+02:00

Most of my friends are assholes. No shit! Maybe I'm spoiled. I've spent so much time with psychiatric patients, that I just can't respect "normal" people anymore. So any friends of mine reading this (except K. and her kids), go fuck yourselves. (K., sorry, you're not "normal", and neither are your kids.)When a psychiatric disorder "falls" on you. And yes, it can happen to anybody. Your life is in

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117468078674339372005-05-30T17:24:00.000+02:002005-05-30T17:50:43.386+02:00

The following account really happened. My memory of the events portrayed is a bit hazy, so I might be exaggerating a bit here and there.Today, after work as usual, I went for groceries. On the way to the supermarket I was accosted by two of the cutest little girls I've ever seen. They couldn't have been older than five or six, a red blush on their faces, brandishing notebooks and a pen."Sir, can

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117399732866938562005-05-29T22:33:00.000+02:002005-05-30T22:35:24.513+02:00

I quite my job last week. Best damn job I ever had. I have no idea what I'm going to do next. A year ago I was thinking, I would be in this job for the rest of my life, and that prospect looked good.It was a good job. I drove around in Amsterdam, visiting my patients, drinking their coffee, listening to their problems. Once in a while I'd open my mouth to bring forth one of my worn platitudes,

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117222050494501832005-05-27T21:21:00.000+02:002005-05-27T21:27:30.506+02:00

The centre for excellence in orgasmic stimulation is now interviewing applicants for the position of full-time holiday lover.We are looking for: A gorgeous babe. University degree a must, intelligence optional. Well-endowed in the chest area. Abillity to converse on a wide variety of subjects. Must have own car, place to live and be independantly wealthy.We are offering: Wild passionate sex. 7

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1117143531485818922005-05-26T23:22:00.000+02:002005-05-26T23:51:34.913+02:00

At night in the Arizona desert, on lost Texan highways, if you listen carefully, on the wisp of the dry desert air, you might hear the faint tune of the ballad of Muhammad Billy Bob.About three decades ago Muhammad Billy Bob ran a Camel ranch in southern Texas together with his father Bubbah Enis Bo, and his brother Jesus. Now Muhammad, missing most of his front teeth, had a little speech

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1116336775091039522005-05-17T14:52:00.000+02:002005-05-17T15:32:55.096+02:00

It's official. I'm single again. It took me about six months to realize it. Admittedly, the young woman in question, was not very clear on the subject. But there you are, thirtysix years old, and single.Believe me, it's great being single. You can do all these fun single things that singles always seem to be doing. I immediately took a subscription to "single magazine", (I'm not making this up.),

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1116013224212197822005-05-13T20:54:00.000+02:002005-05-13T22:40:26.780+02:00

When I was 19 years old, I decided that my father was an utter asshole. I picked up the phone, told him to go fuck himself and didn't see him for another 6 years.Still, some years later, I found myself on an empty railroad platform awaiting a stranger that I hated and loved. He had grown a little fatter, and he still smelled of cheap cologne and tobacco. It was a pleasant surprise to see him

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115924051630337202005-05-12T20:52:00.000+02:002005-05-12T20:54:11.636+02:00

This blog is officially a succes now. I'm number one on yahoo search!!! Well, I might be number one but only if you enter the query: "drunk+sixteen+fuck". Still. I'm number one.Don't even bother posting comments to this one, I'll delete it in a couple of days.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115756396166592052005-05-10T22:13:00.000+02:002005-05-10T23:20:38.333+02:00

This American Murder Machine, forced these poor children to pose for these pictures. Real Muslim children would never do that.These boys are being forced at gunpoint to hail the American oppressor.This little girl was kidnapped by this American Evil murderer.The white American racist conquerors.this woman was probably forced by the American conquerors to display these images.Now you see what

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115747621089393462005-05-10T19:45:00.000+02:002005-05-10T19:56:01.096+02:00

If I didn't know myself any better, I'd have sex with me. (Which incidentally, I do.... a lot.) About a year ago I bought this house which is way too big for a man alone, but hell, I was "dating" this gorgeous woman in Istanbul, and I was thinking of settling down and having some kids. (I'm almost 37 you know.) But for some reason she broke up with me. (Nope, it wasn't the sex, me being the best

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115653241805832172005-05-09T17:18:00.000+02:002005-05-09T17:40:41.900+02:00

When I was sixteen years old, my parents sent me to India. I won't go into their motives for this strange move. (That story would include ugly words like: psychosis, hysteria, guru and other words that make you shiver.) I spent over two years there, never seeing my parents or visiting my beloved Holland, in between. It was an "amusing" experience to say the least. The Indian culture never ceased

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115416466793110862005-05-06T23:03:00.000+02:002005-05-07T00:53:05.133+02:00

The strangest thing just happened to me. I was getting ready for bed. Brushed my teeth; undressed flipped my underwear in the general direction of my laundry basket and jumped on my bed. Just as I was about to turn off the light, I was startled by a voice: "Why did you post that?"To many people this kind of thing would be terrifying or a sign of insanity. Not to me however. I instinctively knew

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115400003980911892005-05-06T19:16:00.000+02:002005-05-06T21:24:04.350+02:00

No personal stuff today. My apologies for hurting politically correct sentiments. But a man I consider my hero, Ali Sina, has written a letter that I'd like everyone to read. Ali Sina is a former Iranian muslim, who has several fatwa's hanging on his ass for leaving islam. He is highly intelligent, a great author and a man that stands for something. I urge everybody to visit and read his website.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1115228463075900502005-05-04T18:58:00.000+02:002005-05-05T02:05:15.896+02:00

I'm not cool! I've never been cool, and God willing, I'll never be cool. I don't even think I get the concept of being cool. In fact, most probably I could be classified as a grumpy old man with an attitude problem. It's not for a lack of trying. Trying to be cool is like having sex with a crackwhore. It's cheap. It's devoid of joy and all the while you got this crazy idea that somehow you're

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114802067793346932005-04-29T20:18:00.000+02:002005-04-30T15:50:20.800+02:00

I just realized, I can't remember the name of the girl to whom I lost my virginity. She was quite pretty, great hair, and the smallest nipples I've ever seen.It all started at a frat party. The vodka had been burning its way through my veins in search of my loins. I was bored, and I was looking for a fight.Someone pointed her out to me and mentioned that she had just broken off with her boyfriend

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114565372180289072005-04-27T03:28:00.000+02:002005-04-27T23:28:24.680+02:00

You May Be a Bit Antisocial ...Antisocial? That may be a bit of an understatement.You think rules are meant to be broken - and with gusto!Having no fear, you don't even think about consequences.But people love you anyway... you've got a boatload of charm.What Personality Disorder Are You?That is such bullshit. I'm an incredibly nice person. Everybody loves me. I love everybody. (Except for that

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114510780406694232005-04-26T11:58:00.000+02:002005-04-26T12:34:18.706+02:00

My Inner Hero - Warrior!I'm courageous, straightforward, and charismatic. I'm a born leader, but I'm also not afraid to face danger on my own. Nothing stands between me and victory... nothing that lives to tell the tale, anyway. If you need someone to charge into battle for you, call on me.How about you? Click here to find your own inner hero.When I was a small boy, my heroes were Tarzan and El

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114421808812929762005-04-25T11:34:00.000+02:002005-04-25T23:15:20.000+02:00

My 36th birthday is rapidly approaching and I'm growing old and I'm going to die. Since with my current life-style, living beyond 72 would be an impossibility, I guess it's save to assume I've passed the mid-point in life. I'm not as quick as I used to be, my body needs more time to recuperate. I cannot study for 18 hours a day anymore. My childhood dreams of becoming either a priest, a

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114206478168736062005-04-22T23:44:00.000+02:002005-04-22T23:50:54.186+02:00

Let one thing be clear. I like women. I like all women. I like them small, round, lean, tall, fat, skinny, you name it, I like it. But most of all I like fullbreasted caucasians in their sexual prime. Now that I have carefully established the conviction in the readers mind that I am indeed a heterosexual, I think it is safe for me to confess that I love D.H. Lawrence.My first introduction, with

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114188668768585792005-04-22T18:43:00.000+02:002005-04-22T18:57:49.926+02:00

In my spare time, when I am not busy fighting crime, or finding a cure for herpes, I like to chat to my friend Beau Lotterman. Beau, doesn't talk back, because for some reason Beau hates me, but that's okay with me. He being a great Hollywood actor and all.Beau introduced me to Noni, who is also a great actress, I forgot her name but she likes shoplifting. I'm not really interested in her though,

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1114102751971710442005-04-21T18:43:00.000+02:002005-04-21T18:59:11.973+02:00

Hold the press! I got great news! I just found out that there are three incredibly hot babes living just behind my house. This little nugget of joy in my otherwise bland life fell in my lap as I was cleaning a chicken in my kitchen. My mind wandered, my eye drifted and BINGO!!! Three gorgeous babes, suntanning in their backyard. God loves me!!!!!!!! Oh God! I just had another look! And it's four!

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1113927528360045352005-04-19T18:17:00.000+02:002005-04-19T18:18:48.363+02:00

A couple of days ago, the doorbell rang. When I opened the Christ was standing there. Bleeding profusely from his groin. Before I could say anything he screamed in my face: “Where the fuck are my testicles?”“I don’t know Lord! But if I find them, I might keep them for myself.”, I stammered.And so it happened that I invited the the greatest lover of the universe inside and gave him some strong

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1113681822353439592005-04-16T21:22:00.000+02:002005-04-16T22:03:42.356+02:00

Now and again, I dabble a little in philosophy. Which is something that gives me joy and hopefully some wisdom. The only downside to philosophy is the philosophers. I'm not talking about "real" philosophers here like Spinoza, the Christ and Socrates, I'm talking about the human puke that deems it necessary to drool their ill-conceived plagiarisms all over the net.Every other week I seem to be

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1113572306058347862005-04-15T13:19:00.000+02:002005-04-15T15:38:26.060+02:00

You know how certain things are just part of you and completely normal and conductive to leading a healthy, happy and productive life? Until some stuck-up bitch tells they are evil, crazy and make the baby Jesus cry?That's what happened to my deathlist.As far as I can remember, I've always had a deathlist. My father had a deathlist. I know my mother keeps a detailed one with name of the offender,

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1113428511690691962005-04-13T23:41:00.000+02:002005-04-13T23:41:51.690+02:00

Blocked Me Ok....... this one had me rolling on the floor.

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1113230899418075912005-04-11T16:35:00.000+02:002005-04-11T16:48:19.420+02:00

Home at last. The vacation did me good. When you go south in the Netherlands, the scenery changes. Where at first there are only green fields as far as the eye can see, the landscape takes on an earthier colour, more trees appear and the landscape eventually changes into rolling hills.The last time I drove this route, was when I brought my lover to the airport, never to see her again. Every

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1112040112456506492005-03-28T21:53:00.000+02:002005-03-28T22:02:55.480+02:00

Dear people,You wont be getting any crap from me for the next few days. I got myself a nice little cabin in the woods, devoid of all modern-day comforts. It's just going to be me enjoying my own company. (I better pack an extra pack of tissues.) The best thing is, that i'm not even sure when I'll be coming back.Also I have more or less run out of cyberarchives. It just doesn't do it for me

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1111995900483898562005-03-28T09:44:00.000+02:002005-03-28T10:56:23.150+02:00

There is beauty in ideas, and women, and furry little creatures. However all beauty pales in comparison to the sheer magnificence of Holland. No matter the season, if one only cares to look, sheer and utter beauty smiles back at you. Every time I fly back to Amsterdam and see the green or white fields from the sky, I feel like crying. City on the sea in the snow.For questions on immigration, you

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1111943978709908322005-03-27T19:19:00.000+02:002005-03-27T19:19:38.710+02:00

"Take the quiz: 'what kind of drug are you? (includes pictures)'cocaine.you are cocaine. addictive, expensive and confident."

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1111943549166799332005-03-27T19:12:00.000+02:002005-03-27T19:15:09.136+02:00

"Take the quiz: 'Which Spice Girl Are You?'Baby Spice (Emma)Well, youre like baby. what can i say? you like the color pink, your not to smart, you like to pretend youre sweet and innocent when really youre just a bitch whose mean to everyone."

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11166846.post-1111943309901860142005-03-27T19:08:00.000+02:002005-03-27T19:14:44.356+02:00

"Take the quiz: 'How do you fuck?'You kinky fucker you!Well... you sick fuck you... You got some kinky shit in your head. You are good at what you try to be good at... If you are into it and not too drunk the fucking will be great"

bulbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08860642493687453704noreply@blogger.com1