Saturday, December 26, 2009

Ringworm From A Tattoo

Fresh Wind

As so often happens, the daily has had with its rituals, repetitions and commitments many good ideas slip back into oblivion. But you're there and makes sure that I am motivated again to go into the next round. The case was @ buchmamsell which asked the question ...

Now you: THE intent. New Year. You know. How is he? I hate to say this even further * g *

On such a call you can rub it all good, right? I am in any event the challenge and return to the original idea of \u200b\u200bthis blog:

☆ @ buchmamsell do every day, something I had previously not done yet or a long time! # Vorsatz2010

The time between the years, the rough nights, I always like to use a little to do research in myself to relive things to consider. As might arise in the coming days a list of things that can be implemented in the new year. I'm curious. And if you have good ideas: Bring it on!

Friday, December 25, 2009

Heart Palpations Liver

Hail to the King Baby!

Eine Lobhudelei auf Stephen King

Hallo, es ist 3:53 Uhr als ich diesen Text beginne und ich muss einfach einiges loswerden. Die Menschen die mich persönlichen kennen, stöhnen jetzt wahrscheinlich auf und überfliegen das alles nur. Dennoch versuche ich auch denen etwas zu bieten.
Ich versuche im Folgenden eine Lobhudelei auf meinen Lieblingsautor write. For someone whose followers have almost nothing to be ashamed of his works to be because he is misunderstood as strong as no other (I will come back yet). Someone who accompanied me through my life since I was twelve years old and whose works have influenced me more than that of most musicians, filmmakers and artists together in general. I'm talking, of course, by Stephen King.

Now I ask all who intend to read it here and know about King not much more than his name and maybe two or three of his films, the previous associations, both good and push aside.
forget lurid as the Kings Heyne Verlag titles to the German "interpreted" (Tommyknockers = The monster, Duma Key = delusional, Blaze = torment or Everything's Eventual ='s Eventual, just time to name a few examples) write, or how flat and 0815's films, which convey the impression that Stephen King only cheap slasher fare. say forget what American critics when they say King would be "read Fast Food" without salary and not nearly as "satisfying" as the competition. Get him away from the corner of Dan Brown's, Wolfgang Hohlbein and Dean Koontz (apologies if I have now slandered someone you like) and considered him, but with the help of the factors that are necessary to measure the quality of an author.
Auch wenn das so wirkt, als wäre ich ein verblendeter Fanboy, welcher jeden morgen mit feuchten Tröpfchen in der Shorts aufwacht, weil er von seinem Idol geträumt hat, kann ich viel der starken Kritik mit der sich King konfrontiert sieht verstehen und auch viele Lobeshymnen auf einige seiner Bücher nicht nachvollziehen.
King ist meiner Meinung nach ein ambivalenter und vor allem flexibeler Autor. Für dessen immens hohen Output (ich weiß, Anglizismen stinken), erstaunlich viel Qualität vorhanden ist, der aber auch schon viel Scheiße verzapft hat. Zeitverschwendungen wie „Der Buick“, „Desperation“ und „Tommyknockers“ lassen mich immer noch förmlich erzittern.
Nun, before I announced to the factors that are necessary for the quality of an author come, I must clarify the personal relevance of this post.
After my year very enjoyable and electrifying trip to the corner of misanthropy, with the help of the authors Faldbakken, Welsh and Palahniuk, which I also want to miss any more, I was on 6 December "The Arena" (org: Under the Dome), the new King novel gift. 1280 pages, which I have just finished half an hour.

re-read King was like coming home after the holiday. The holiday was totally beautiful, but somehow looks forward to home and no one's there, enjoying is any quiet moment in his Lieblinssessel, although the beach was beautiful. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but King has seized me now again. I had little time, but I could spare, I read over the holidays and I have to provide a 800-page marathon made of three stages. I've always been a greedy but not necessarily a fast reader.
Now I have finished the latest work of Kings, of which I was really afraid that it is bad because I did not know whether I can still captivate King over such a length, after I very nearly in Lisey's Story was received before the boredom. He was there and how.
Let us turn to the evaluation Kings. Of course I am referring here to purely subjective factors, such as one I think, even literature can not be reduced to the pure art. Of course you can on the basis of those judgments like "good" or make "bad". I like this but not enough knowledge to assess the in King and I read almost only translated what disqualified me anyway.
It is similar to all other artifacts, one must know what it refers. Will you look at everything from the technical side, and evaluate an author only on the basis of how well he can use language? I personally think that one should not forget what this purpose are the instruments that represent the language skills of an author. Everything is going addition to telling stories. And in my humble opinion, is the most important point is to be measured at which an author. Of course there are both the authors provide a synthesis inconceivable to associate with one another, superior technology and a story to you skin from the back of the pack. No wonder the Orwell, Dickens and Goethe are as unassailable as far as the quality of their work.
have so we staked our framework in which we want to look at King. The purely subjective framework of my own little world view. As with everything else, there is obviously a question of taste. There are enough people come, like me, for its author and defend him at the mercy and these people do not really more than I want to achieve with this text, that this author gets a real chance. The difference is that King is not known, but known. King is to be read as golf drive, listen to the doctors or chocolate as a favorite ice cream places have.
Each has an opinion of King, have concerned themselves with or without him. He is the type of horror, this bloodthirsty, with the monster clown from "It".
mean I need the almost ashamed. King is as good as any who have never read him penny dreadful level. Simply because of the many impressions of the most famous author in the world, so start pouring on. Many of them agree also, I think King many readers who do not understand what he has will go and find the bloody bodies in his books the best. Nevertheless, everyone who likes to read books by Stephen King in Maine, at least given a chance.
I try on a comparison with a currently very well-known author, Kings advantages to make it clear. Curtain up for Danny Boy.
Dan Brown and Stephen King have many similarities. Both seem to have the talent to take the shortest time immense number of people for their stories. They tell stories spectacular, lead to that devours its books. The big sticking point is the characters and there is King in my opinion after almost unique.
What remains to the people of Robert Langdon (the protagonist in Brown's "Angels and Demons, The Da Vinci Code, The Lost icon) in the memory? What does Robert Langdon? Why he acts the way he acts? What distinguishes him from other than its position within the novel?
Langdon in my opinion is interchangeable. Langdon is also a basically does not matter. Although you want to know how it goes, but it would bother me if it is a foot chopped off? If he would be tortured? No, no play. More than the fact that the story goes no further. Dan Brown is trying to give Langdon corners and edges. The claustrophobia, the Mickey Mouse Clock. But he failed. Stephen
King takes time for his characters and creates the most without boring the reader. The protagonists and antagonists have a soul. You get to know them with the book and understand a lot more important. King is inviolable is to breathe life into fictional characters and that's meant literally.
The people that King creates, you can imagine the reader in a different environment and has an idea of \u200b\u200bhow they behave. All they do is a sense, it is directly related to their personality. King manages to create insane opponent (Randall Flagg, Norman Daniels, the Rennies, George Stark) facing fears and the reader, but yet somehow she understands what she still scary making and to outline likeable (Jonsey-Beaver-Pete Henry, Alan Pangborn, Dale Barbara) are more than characters in a novel. There are characters that materialize in the mind of the reader and there exist. They are people for whom one has feelings. It is hard to describe until you experience it, but King creates a sympathy for his characters that I otherwise never found shelter.
these figures, it is exactly, at issue in King. It's really rare around the old Indian cemetery, which came to life to murder the car starts or the demonic clown. It is about people of interest to some, and accompany them to a piece of their lives. To experience what they experience and even more to feel was sie fühlen. Diese Nähe zu den Charakteren, schafft King meistens erst durch die Extremsituationen herzustellen in die diese geraten. Leider sind es die Extreme für die er bekannt ist, dafür das er nicht zimperlich mit Gewalt umgeht, dafür das er die abstrusesten und manchmal auch dämlichsten Einfälle hat. Aber das wofür King bekannt ist, ist nicht seine größte Stärke.
Ich gehe hier absichtlich nicht auf die „Dark Tower“ Reihe ein, welche quasi Kings stärken potenziert und somit ein unfassbar intensives literarisches Werk ist, sondern spreche hier nur von dem „Groschenroman King“ dessen Filme man kennt. Auch wenn die Filme teilweise Klassiker sein mögen, Brian de Palmas "Carrie," for example, it is impossible to convey to them the incredible closeness to the figures, which have been read.
This proximity is also what causes absolutely everything I read about King. Even books like "The Buick", which I felt after the first 100 pages as a terrible dull and monotonous, I could not stop reading just because I am the fate of the protagonists, despite all the antipathy towards history, somehow the heart was. A story is only as good or bad as their characters. That is why Stephen King is in my opinion a brilliant storyteller, author and artist. The empathy that King creates, is unique and can only be art. No fast food, no level of carnage-free, no simple horror novel, but true art. If King's books were clay, he would be none other than God because he creates human beings and not just figures.

So in the end I was a bit spongy, but the fatigue has caught up with me. Although the slime trail I leave fairly thick, are hopefully clear she honestly and reasonably differentiated (as far as possible for a fanboy) is.
Mfg kazper

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Funny 30th Bday Invitation Wording

blackout part 10 a)

Leppert

10


After Leppert has completed its extremely intimate relationship with him and the cactus any visible spines were removed, I will gently pricked into the back of the page. My head has given up any work due to the strong influence of alcohol, so I'm no idea who that might be just me and turn around.
Tanya is with a slight smile before me, I wear the other hand, when I see a fat drunken grin on display, which could even Andrea Bocelli interpret.
Her eyes darkened for a brief moment, he is friendly again, but this time played friendly "Have you ever full? It's not even eleven. "Joa, you could say I am ... affected, yes. Had previously ne little vodka session in the garden. "" That's pretty anti-social. So I do not want to offend but to be already so full before the party really gets going ... "
A discussion about how I'm really drunk and how it was justified breaks. I lose is clear that alcohol has made me a rhetorical Minderbemitteltem. I think it basically does not make any difference when I'm drunk and it is absolutely mindless, the adequacy of the measure be drunk at the time of day. "... And when I clock in the morning until nine booze and then go to the bakery full of reversals, it is again assi. So drink only in that small window of time between twelve and shit Six possible or what? "" That ... or you do not find it anti-social if the baker a next to you, as a result of its three parts per thousand can barely even stand up? The party is almost the baker and you find the type of fluctuating all incredibly embarrassing ... "

I look in the face of Fabian. His dark hair medium-length frame it on. They are curled perfectly harmonious. See the bright blue eyes bright but somehow reflective of, I can well imagine that many women interpret this look as sexy. He wears a polo shirt that emphasized his body, which, with its broad shoulders and strong upper body muscles roughly the opposite of my is. The Beck's gold in his hand, is almost perfectly with the label turned in my direction, it lacks only the faded slogan. Before me is a living billboard. "You are what you say?". "I hope they get disabled children and it dies.".
"Oh, then you would understand that she is angry that you would have said it differently." Although I do not think that this really was a joke, Fabian may look thoughtful, but I doubt that in his mind there is more operating than in the shop where we are in right now, I smile.

Fabian and I know us from the past, There was some consensus among friends, so you're off and running across the road. I had not seen him for years, but I know several corners, without which it would have ever interested that he now transmogrified and somewhere in the theater plays. When I went to this pub (the only one on a weekday morning for three clock still has) got was, he said hello to me and I offered myself to sit with him.
is now again a hour had passed, I have almost purely poured beer in record time four White and three double whiskey in me. The alcohol enveloped me again with the soothing cotton of intoxication. The bad conscience, and my hate and my anger (both myself, and to Tanja), are attenuated and pushed into the background. I can not explain why I just such a goofy pretty boy like him tell what happened, but also the Erklärungsnot not slow down my need.
"And then I just left, because then yes gabs to say anything anyway. I mean, I know that this really was not gentlemanly, but now is too late "Fabian is collected and briefly considered, he says," Well, Ben, is dependent real n hard bread. So what can not simply say ... "and adds a brilliant idea almost added," ... this is also hurting and so "!. A blessed inspiration comes after the other: "Hey, did you not stop it but really just that simple. First you part ne "waiting for my affirmative nod before he continued:" Then the car accident, Hagen, ... "My stomach cramps shortly" I've read in the newspaper, fuck drinking and driving, really scary! And now this understand what I mean? It's like, what is the name of a still ...?"
I look at him blankly, but I am actually a little bit of the Fabian surprised it has done that to bring everything into context. "Well, you, the one from the Bible, which always happens to the sone of shit. As if testing or something ... "" Do you think Job? "" Yes, exactly! Perhaps that is with you so a test or something? Had to see it this way, think prositiv, prositiv always think "I need the almost
indomitable urge to roll his eyes and me with his palm to his forehead resist clapping. Although it would be easy to despise Fabian for his ambivalence on appearance and intelligence, he collected just one advantage after another with me. can also he reminds me a bit right now to my personal idea of \u200b\u200bZaphod Beeblebrox in "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Zaphod and you just do not be evil.
Despite the magnificent futility of his statements, versucht er anscheinend wirklich mir zu helfen. Mir, dem der ihn immer verachtet hat, weil er nur ein Schönling ist, der nicht lesen kann ohne unter jedem einzelnen Wort mit dem Finger entlang zu fahren. Meine Gedanken springen von diesem Klischee des geläuterten Misanthropen den ich gerade abgebe, zu dem was Tanja sagte.
„Das ist echt wie in irgendeiner scheiß Soap, sie hatte tatsächlich recht, dass kann man sich ja kaum ausmalen so kitschig wie das alles ist!“ Ich habe den Gedanken, Alkohol sei dank, sofort ausgesprochen, genau wie mein Gegenüber vorhin, welcher mich nur fragend ansieht. Der nächste meiner Gedanken wird auch sofort artikuliert „Sag mal, ich quatsch dich hier jetzt seit einer Stunde full, what are you doing here? "" Yes you, I have already told you yet, I have now completed NEN fat contract. Nivea For a TV ad from man. This is true coal, and I do not help to rub upper body freely beside myself with NEM mirror the face with sonem stuff ... "It Details to follow on when and where and what will be on display for sure, but even if he deserved it, that I listen to him now, I can not simple. My headache is suddenly back, accompanied by her new best friend the dizziness, also has my stomach can relax since the mention of Leppert accident again. I I try not to let on, but suddenly interrupts his narrative Fabian. "I see the age erst. yes now you have thrown something?". I hear him in such a dull and metallic, as if I had a knight's helmet. Although, even better than he would have one on. "Did I what?" I bring forth in a pained groan. "What threw. Ne E or better "" No! Why ... "" Old age is seen but the need to tell me anything. Your pupils are really weird and ... "he tilted his head slightly to look at me straight in the eye, I see the faint silhouette of my own reflection on his Iris ... you cross-eyed I think even a little "A broad smile creeps on his face. "You're on something on it you, I had to say anything, you only live once right?" I get up from the table, the alcohol seems to have struck extreme, I want to problems now and I have to just lean on a chair before I Guest WC stagger direction. I consider myself to be on the edge of the sink and vomit a brown slug, which can feel my throat on fire. When I look up, in my own reflection, I look emaciated in Red tarnished and in fact slightly squinting eyes. I am trying to remember if I've ever squinted that way, but the alcohol, the lights switched on in my head one by one slowly.



To be continued ...


Editor's note: In order to make myself a bit of pressure and to prevent the part that I begin again like two times, I have now published first part of Chapter 10. I hope I am now back on track.
If one does not read until then, I wish you all here even by watching a Merry Christmas and all the other stuff
Mfg kazper

Monday, December 7, 2009

For Sale Animal Print Extensions

Further delays

Despite the resumption of the work I am currently somehow not with my time management down so right. Think that everything will move a bit. Nevertheless, I will until Christmas enter definitely be back full ...
kazper

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

.cht Files For Gpsphone Pokemon Fire Red

work resumed

Ok, I have to move and some other personal stuff so far behind me right now and start working again at the next part. I hope that maybe this week or later than the beginning of the next as far as am.
Thank you for your attention along

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

How To Get A Motorcycle On Poptropica

NaNoWriMo

Who would have thought that this project "NaNoWriMo" in which it comes, to write 50,000 words within a month, could be so much fun? While it is absolutely not without difficulties and confusion, but it is so exciting as the novel moves in the corners and niches, which I had no idea! And how completely different shape to the writing phase! Some places I find terrific good - others are my internal quality audit later probably not withstand. But it's about at the moment anyway, not yet - "Nano" is the quantity. Quality downstream. It is a liberating creativity eruption process and for me it works quite well. Although I would therefore no longer than 30 Endure days - the same time I am already on the next NaNoWriMo 2010 with his word battles and other fascinating discoveries ...

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Ferris Bueler Clothes

delays

Hello. Nur mal ne
short message. Due to my relocation as well as a thick cold I rumschleppe with me, the next part is unfortunately something move. I expect so with the third week of November.
Long Sun

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Why Do My Legs Ache When Im Sitting Down

blackout Part 9

I, Prinz Porno

9


I wish you luck whether or not I do not know
.
but just the thought
for me is simply awful
No Exit - Without you



It drizzles a little when I freshly showered, and come with hair still wet in my car. I look in the mirror and feel a bit like a human again. A few injuries have been me of course. The bump on my forehead seems to me golf ball great and my nose is swollen. I am also plagued repeatedly stabbing headache. I forget my broken tooth so long until I meet with the tongue against him.
It is 1:47 clock as I start the engine and turn on the taps. The radio, which spits out the tape that went over jumps back to the pre-classic-rock station. Lou Reed singing "Walk on the Wild Side" before the song dies away with the characteristic "doop, doo doo, doo doo, doop doo doo" and the saxophone solo.
During the drive I still struggle with vague memories of my dream. I'm trying obsessively on the larger context of the whole than to also remember the guy who the catcher was taken in the Rye. No chance, such as deleted.
My thoughts jump back and forth like the needle to a broken record. I wonder just what Tanya really now just wants to? I told her we could meet with her. I did not want her to see that I have not done in four months brought to collect correctly. What they might want from me? And why they sounded so very serious? I have no idea and would do really well as another to go to the hospital to apologize to me about the Chris Leppert and to collect completed, and the like, but I you could never refuse a request. I'm just but only a trained lap dog.
The radio host, as each of its unique genre listless, says some Guns 'n' Roses story and you begin "Knocking on Heaven's Door". Have corny to now. I prefer to listen on my tape, turn it around and press play.

When I arrived Tanja's apartment, I have to stay quiet once in the car. I turn on the interior lighting, pull down the hood, take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. I tie my braids again and note here that my hands tremble. When I lost me a lock of hair wiped away, I stroke the small white scar, which is right between my eyebrows.


"So, now you know where my scar is here, now I want to know where that came from there." She says, tapping her finger tip right between my eyebrows. "Well good because dus are. "Answer me this and I must exert strong not babble too much. "That was Leppert. No, really! We warn the lake, so zusammn all. We had bought a lot of these little five-liter kegs. And after the second or drittn, somebody had the brilliant idea to play football with it. So we have since put on the field and played football with NEM barrel. That was all still very well tutti, but we were just pretty well sealed. At some point, then, Leppert is running as a solo thing, even though it is day full Ster, throws down and makes NEN point. Touchdown. Whatever you want to call it. He lies there, next to me and clings tightly to the barrel. Is not easy on, is because more and more rum. Then I bow down myself and do it just hinhaltn my hand to help him up when he roared something, that thing will throw to Chris, who is behind me because Leppert is so full that he does not notice the rally is long gone . Did not work out the pass, the thing has thrown me full in the face. Of course, equally beautiful laceration. All have pushed the panic übelst and told me how bad this looks, and that I would have to be sewn in any case. Of course, was nonsense. When I arrived at the hospital total cancellation, have just stuck. Well, keep the scar I have. "In the course of the story she began to laugh and sieht mich jetzt schmunzelnd an. „Ihr seid ja ganz schöne Idioten. Selber schuld. Also tschuldige, aber das ist echt dämlich.“

Der Rest des Abends zieht schnell und zunehmend verschwommen an mir vorbei. Ich bin mittlerweile total voll, wie so oft von einem Moment auf den anderen und verliere die Kontrolle über mein Sprachzentrum und beginne ihr vorzubrabbeln wie sympathisch und hübsch sie ist. Ich meine, dass stimmt aber es ist dennoch alles andere als charmant wenn jemand der beim Pissen kaum noch das Klo trifft ihr das vorblubbert. Im Geiste bin ich noch ein wenig klar, nur leider nicht fähig das auf den Rest von mir zu transportieren. Alles was ich sage, hört sich vorher in meinem Kopf gut und interessant an, sobald ich es aber ausgesprochen habe kommt so was wie „ Deine Augen sind total groß“ dabei heraus. Ein großes Problem ist auch, dass sie eindeutig nüchterner ist als ich. Sie ist daran interessiert ein Gespräch aufzubauen, vielleicht eine richtige Diskussion, was weiß ich, aber ich bin zu nichts mehr zu gebrauchen. Sie beginnt über die Uhrzeit zu reden, darüber das es schon fast sechs sei und sie sich ein Taxi rufen müsse. Ich schlage ihr vor das sie bei mir pennen könne und dann morgen in aller Ruhe nachhause fahren könnte. Ich schaffe es noch, ihren misstrauischen Blick zu interpretieren und versichere ihr, dass ich in meinem Sessel penne und sie mein Bett haben kann. Sie lächelt wieder und willigt ein, unter Bedingung, dass wir morgen zusammen frühstücken und ich sie zum Bus bringe.
Wir bezahlen und gehen zu mir, beim Spaziergang schaffe ich es kaum die Spur zu halten und stoße immer wieder gegen sie. Sie lächelt nur, hakt sich bei mir unter um mich so zu stützen.
Wir sind bei mir, sie sagt sie geht ins Bad, ich setzte mich inklusive meiner Jacke in meinen Sessel und schlafe sofort ein.

Ich steige aus meinem Auto und gehe auf die Tür zu. Als ich auf den Taster für das Licht drücke, stehe ich noch einen Moment unter der Lampe mit den Klebeziffern 1 und 9 und sammele meine Gedanken, bevor ich mich traue den Klingelknopf zu betätigen.

Als ich die Treppen zu Tanjas Wohnung hochsteige, steht sie schon im Türrahmen. Im ganzen Haus ist es unheimlich still, man hört nur mein leichtes Atmen. Sie nickt mir mit einem traurigen aufgesetzten Lächeln zu und betritt ihre Wohnung. Ich säubere meine Schuhe mit Hilfe von Tweetys Gesicht auf einer Fußmatte und folge ihr. Als ich die Tür schließe sagt sie nur „Hi, setz dich schon mal ins Wohnzimmer, bin gleich da“. Ich überlege kurz ob ich die Schuhe ausziehen sollte, entscheide mich dann aber dagegen. Ich begebe mich in das liebevoll eingerichtete Wohnzimmer mit lauter Fotos von Freunden und sonstigem Nippes. Mit den Händen auf den Rücken, wie der Stereotype Museumsbesucher, nähere ich mich einer großen Glasvitrine in der Unmengen weiterer Fotos zu are found. Both neatly placed in picture frames, and to the back wall pinned or taped to the glass. I discover only a photo on which I'm seeing. No wonder I'm always guarantee all the photos out of the way gone, I hate the poses and made the patch that you are taking on such a smile. In the photo I am standing with a red face and a hand next to the mouth Leppert, who sits smoking in short pants on a table edge while a girl who's names I can not remember, kneeling before him with tweezers.


We are all at a party by a friend. Jessica is a teacher and a child quite a sweet girl, we do not know us but rather good, but it is quite nice. The house is just outside her family and in my eyes a palace. A huge winter garden, full of all sorts of plants and the rest of the house very modern. Her parents are now embarked on a weekend trip to Paris and there is Jessica with Chris in the same school, we've all somehow managed to the party.
Tanja is also, I've since our duo tour no longer seen. We were the next morning and I eat what they've promised to be related to the bus. Nevertheless, the morning was funny then, it was strange. I thought they were still gorgeous but she only curtly replied and told almost nothing by itself. We hugged and I've not dare to ask for her phone number. It is now three weeks ago and now I see it again.
It's Friday and I really Freitagssauferein avoid, exhausted from work and tired thanks to my usual six hours sleep, then I am very prone to embarrassing crashes. Today I'm really just here because I know that it will be here, but my motive is, of course, unknown. I have also never told that she has slept with me, only louder stupid questions would come to all of which I should have said "no" that would not be good for my ego.
The party is going pretty fast, I am draußen und leiste Leppert während dieser raucht Gesellschaft.
„Ich war gerade am Kühlschrank“ nach einer bedeutungsschwangeren Pause und einem weiteren Zug fährt er grinsend fort: „Bier ist genug da, aber Ben, da sind nur noch drei Flaschen Wodka, deswegen sollten wir as soon as possible uns davon mindestens eine Bunkern.“. „Bunkern ist aber immer ziemlich assi, hab nicht so den Drang mich hier jetzt großartig unbeliebt zu machen.“ Antworte ich vor allem in Hinblick auf Tanjas späteres erscheinen.
Nach einem darauf folgendem halbstündigem Diskurs (Tanja ist immer noch nicht erschienen und in mir keimt der Verdacht, dass sie das auch nicht mehr wird), in dem wir uns letztendlich could agree that the charge of bunkering we may not be made if we would only disappear with a bottle outside and they would empty relatively quickly, rather than to hide under our desk or similar, are Bollo, Leppert and I with a bottle Sprite and vodka in the garden of Jessica. I just get the bottles to look like the two before me, two times out of Sprite, and between one to drink from the vodka bottle. As a start I want, driving me on Leppert: "Are you totally stupid?". It tears me two bottles out of hand, she gets and gives it to me again. "It is left-right-left, not right-left-right.". "Where is the fucking difference? It's now probably does not matter how crappy rum I drink it. "I answer. "The difference is, the right-left-right makes no sense and it is traditional left-right-left to drink.". "Tradition", "Yes, it is ne Bundeswehrverarsche, left-right-left, since nothing is ringing?". "Yes, yes, yes, already understood."
We are facing a small garden pond which looks like in the dark, as it were filled with tar. The bottles circle and circle, always runs with two sips of vodka covered much down to my throat warm lemonade. I feel as if the liquor directly to explode in my head. After the beers have been drunk before already, it all developed into a highly dangerous mixture. I almost feel like I am intoxicated by drink to sip, but I see no way out of this circle. Finally, I just want to be drunk and if it goes faster now, so what?
When the two bottles are emptied, we enter three again the party. I am now quite drunk and Leppert and Bollo look not necessarily better. As we pass through the large glass door that leads back into the house, we see that the celebration was filled strong. Everywhere are sitting around and talking to small groups and encouraged to drink. In one corner of the living room even play a few people Meiern. The scenery is overshadowed by Eagle Eye Cherry's acoustic "Save Tonight".
We fight our way to drinking by young people and a lot of plants in the direction of the conservatory. We find Chris at a table with some other people and join them.
The evening is still ongoing. We sit silently in the corner of the conservatory, with no one noticed that, thanks to our vodka happening now should be the Tagensvollsten until Leppert gets up and staggers toward the bathroom. He staggers past a couple and manages to be entertaining it is difficult to keep his balance. As soon as he appears to have disappeared around the corner, Jessica. „Gehts eurem Freund gut? Ich mein, ich hab ein bisschen Angst, dass er hier was kaputt macht, also versehentlich.“, fragt sie Chris eindringlich. „Leppert? Wieso der ist doch topfit.“, antwortet er grinsend. Jessica setzt sich neben zu uns und beginnt ein paar Smalltalk-Gespräche, wie uns die Party so gefällt, ob wir wissen wer noch so kommt usw.
Ich lasse meinen Blick ein wenig wandern, und erblicke Leppert, welcher gerade aus der Richtung des Bads zurückkehrt. Das Pärchen steht immer noch an derselben Stelle und versperrt ihm leicht den Weg, er grinst mich debil an und versucht sich vorsichtig an einer Seite vorbeizudrücken.
Mit dem Rücken zu der Dame, quetscht er sich zwischen ihr und one and a half feet wide by cactus, when he suddenly loses his balance. In a reflex he clings to the plant and tear it down with a down on the floor.
The pot shatters into a thousand pieces and Leppert is a few seconds the cactus hugging on the floor before the onset of pain. Then he pushes away from the plant so violently that it slides all over the floor. Attracted by the clink of the flowerpot and the sound of my laughter, now see all of him while he jumps up screaming and limping on one leg to the next table. Now start other laugh, his right leg (he was wearing only khaki shorts), is covered with small spines on seinem T-Shirt und seinen Armen zeichnen sich überall kleine grünliche Punkte ab, welche man nur im richtigen Licht als Kakteennadeln identifizieren kann. Jessica ist irgendwann aufgesprungen und kommt nun mit Handfeger und Kehrblech zurück. Um das Unfallopfer scharen sich Kerle, welche ihn auslachen (inklusive mir) und ein Mädel, welche ihn Mitleidig anschaut und ihn bittet sich auf den Tisch zu setzten. Leppert der zwar noch Tränen in den Augen hat aber nicht mehr schreit wie am Spieß, greift fluchend in seine Hosentasche, findet seine Zigaretten und zündet sich eine an.
Als sich das Mädel vor ihn kniet, während sie eine Pinzette aus ihrer Handtasche kramt, ertönt von irgendwo aus der Menge (ich glaube es ist Bollo): "Now you're exaggerating but, Leppert tail is small but provides a pair of tweezers?". I cover my hand over her mouth, because I laugh so loud again have to turn me aside and see Chris smiling with a camera in hand.

The whole room is long for a wink bathed in a blinding bright light. I turn away from the glass display case, I'm sick. I sat trembling sounds easy on the sofa and cringe as the sound of thunder. The patter of the rain is getting louder and louder, the sound is the backdrop of a world destruction, the apocalypse.
me dizzy, I'm sitting there with his elbows on my knees, face in my hands and feel How do I start to sweat heavily. I hear the toilet flush and tear myself together. Wipe my face and concentrate. Slowly but surely sounds from the dizziness. I shake my head, causing sharp pain again and look to the door. Okay, as I'm ready to go.
Tanya comes clean. Your facial expression I can not really interpret. She sits beside me and looked at me like Magarethe Schreinemakers. To round out the absurd image is missing only her hand on my knee, combined with a haunting question.
"I do not know how to say the Benny. "She was always the only one who called me Benny, all others give just Ben and what this introduction, she wants some? "I need to talk to anyone and I know that it is unfair just to come to you, you just enough of their own shit in the neck." I grin just bitter. No they will not. "But you're the only stop I understand you have? I have enough friends, but I can only really talk with you, that is about serious things, important things. "A bad feeling is spreading in my stomach. The dizziness returned and I try not to let on to me. "I fought for days in order to call you but I really trusted me until just now, maybe because we've already seen. I because again noticed that you always said you'd be there for me, even though we are not a couple anymore. "Her eyes are glassy and wet, I look between my knees on the floor. Such a bitch. Dirty little cunt. I do not know what they want, but I can guess which way it goes. "And I just need to talk with anyone about it, you know? Do you understand? I will not hurt or anything, but to whom shall I do, I'm scared "In" should be "her voice breaks and the rest is just whining whining. I clench my fist and hit it so hard it hurts. "How do you say that? That's not a TV series here. "" On besten einfach so wie es ist.“ Flüstere ich kaum hörbar. Sie atmet tief durch und ich auch. Ich spann alles in mir an, wie so ein Shaolin seine Bauchmuskeln, bevor darauf ein Bambusstock zertrümmert wird. „Ich, ach kann man das nicht anders sagen? Das klingt dann doch wie in einer Fernsehserie.“ - „Ich bin schwanger.“

Mein Kopf ist leer, da ist gar nichts, kein Gedanke, keine Assoziation. Nur der eben gehörte Satz hallt noch nach. Alles was ich eben noch gedanklich angespannt habe, wurde zerstäubt in Millionen von Teilchen.
Sie interpretiert meinen Gesichtsausdruck so falsch wie es nur geht.
„Keine Angst, du hast damit nichts zu tun. Dann hätte ich ja schon ein real tummy. Could those in charge do not even know. "She says with a nervous smile.
one thousand insults for this selfish bitch before I race through my head, pictures of heated hangers, high steps, nothing else. My migraines, dizziness and nausea that are back .. In my head I hear Prinz Porno, a German rapper I've heard in my punk era a bit, which is mixed with my thoughts.
"Now you have what you want ... Bitch"
How dare they? Infinite rage filled me.
"... you want to hear I cry ?..."
What gives her the right just now with such a shit to come.
"look ... or how I exaggerate nails in the eyes ?..."
I feel like my nails digging lightly into the skin of my palm.
".. for I was so blind ..." -
"Hey, something you have to say. The best just what you're thinking, honestly? ".
"I pray you get children who die at birth and the brats are disabled."
I hear myself say that. Completely sound and emotion, not like a rap song, not like a poem, as if I were remotely controlled. Simple word for word, take in a reasonable, uniform pace without getting my eyes off my feet. Clear thinking, I still have not. I get up and leave the house without looking at them again, you hear only the rattle of heavy rain, it does not say a word.
first out, I think I actually did exactly what they asked me.


To be continued ...

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

How Much Are Half Highlights

unrest


--- Warning, extreme whining follows ---


I lie for an hour and 50 minutes in my bed and follow up, thanks to the dawning moon light, a pattern in my woodchip to the ceiling. I close my eyes. I focus on the voice of the voice actors Robin Williams, who read me from Terry Pratchett's "Going Postal".
think I hear since I can fall asleep to the radio plays. From the traffic light man, about He-Man radio plays, to the old John Sinclair. With age came to talking books. have
The voice actors Brad Pitt (Tobias Meister), Christian Ulmen, or beyond doubt Joachim Kerzel already helped me to sleep and entertain me anyway. I'm trying to visualize what is read to me, after two or three minutes I digress thought. The cat nestled in my calves and I curse them that they can sleep easily.
I open my eyes again, I take a sip of water, turn around and look at the bright red numbers of my clock radio. 2:32 clock. I close my eyes again. I rummage in my linen in a comfortable reclining position and try to think of nothing else but the audiobook to work with. My head would rather think about other things. The upcoming move, the aging, the question of the existence of a deity, what you could write such women (very pungent), friends, sex, the personal future, death, and particularly its inevitability (also extremely pushy), films Books my laziness, what would you do remember what I have not done and can not, etc. The head does not stand still and is relentless. He drills deeper and jumps like a broken record from thought to thought.
shit! I have again lost the plot. I focus again on Robin Williams. I see him before me, with his good-natured face, which pulls faces when he adjusted his voice to talk to other characters and I still aloud. I concentrate. I focus to concentrate. Just listen -. A car
Proll, drives his golf tuned 3 or whatever, with 70 through the thirties zone below my window. Now I have the letzten zwei Sätze verpasst. Bin wieder raus. Die Augen gehen wie automatisch auf. 2:58 Uhr. Die Zeit rast, das Pensum was mir noch zum Schlafen bleibt schrumpft und schrumpft. Um 5:45 Uhr klingelt mein Wecker. Wenn ich in den nächsten zwanzig Minuten nicht einschlafe mach ich durch.

Das geht jetzt schon seit Tagen so. Von heute auf morgen. Ich habe eine Nacht durchgemacht, da hatte ich noch frei, damit ich wieder in den Schlafrhythmus eines Menschen komme, welcher in der Lage ist soziale Kontakte zu pflegen. Das ging richtig schief. Ich habe es zwar geschafft durchzuhalten, habe mich um 0 Uhr, nach einem ca. 37 stündigem Wachmarathon, ins Bett gelegt und war fest davon überzeugt mindestens bis 13 Uhr zu schlafen. In dem Moment als mein head touched the pillow I was asleep (I've always wanted to steal a phrase from King). By 3 clock I was awake again. Since then I sleep a day three to four hours. In most cases, at noon, when I can hardly keep awake. Again for 25 hours after that deadline. Today I am the seven days with this strange rhythm full. I can not help it, even if it is typical whining, I'm worried slowly. Normal, let alone healthy, that's not good.
people tend to when they speak of their sleep problems to exaggerate grossly. More than my word I can give unfortunately not, but that is now doing, I exaggerate either above or below. I sleep for seven days, 4 hours maximum a day / night. I do not know if this is the creeping madness that I finally reached and not only scratches on my door or if I broke something on my marathon 37 hours. In any case, I now hang again here. It's 3:36 clock and I have decided to stay awake and all this stuff to write down times. Why? No plan, no idea. I'm simply the need to whine, I think. I also have serious concerns if things were as tutti is how it works. Another reason is that I am with what other "hot type" as a film would crack if you will.

I'm sitting here with my ice-cold Coke Light (the Koffein mir hoffentlich hilft durch den Tag zu kommen) und der „schlechten Laune-Playlist“, welche gerade Burt Bacharach mit „What the World needs now“ spielt und frage mich was die Kacke soll. Ich hoffe und glaube, dass sich das irgendwann einfach wieder einrenkt und normalisiert.
Die Problematiken sind die Folgen des geringen Schlafes, welche gerade mich als Menschen der eigentlich lange und viel schläft, besonders hart treffen. Meine Konzentration ist jetzt völlig im Eimer, was dazu führt das ich weder einen Buch lesen, einen Film vernünftig schauen oder etwas schreiben kann, was ein wenig Struktur erfordert und nicht rein assoziativ ist wie dieser Müll.
3:47 Uhr. In zwei Stunden geh ich Duschen and drive off. Every time I yawn, I consider myself now to throw in the bed, pushing my head in the pillow and try to sleep with a vengeance. I do know that it is meaningless. There is nothing more, as they say in the roulette. Today, the bank wins again. Thank you Morpheus.

In this sense. Sorry for the whining and good morning

kazper

Monday, October 19, 2009

Tiffany Granath Maca Root

succeeded - the first attempt!




This morning I completed the first sample. One can see quite well that from the front (ie on the first day) to the tail more evenly and better. I find good - and the whole thing has been fun too. From my point of view: It pays to implement a long-held idea into action and DARE TO ... and tonight I'll start with the second sample (must be this time in lilac ... variety!

lace is perhaps a little extreme ... but if you start something new or recently have resumed an old thread again ... Tell them! I would be happy!

Friday, October 16, 2009

Jiffy Mix Hot Cornbread

I try something new!


Today I take something really quite new in attack (do not laugh now, is taken seriously): BOBBIN LACE! I'm always have been for old handicrafts, and with these fascinating confusing lace liebäugele I have long ... only it could teach me any. Now I try it with a written instruction just for yourself! The lace pillows waiting ... and I'm going about my project Keep up to date.

Monday, October 12, 2009

I Want To Major In Pediatric

blackout Part 8

life and death

8


I stand at a football stadium and although I'm not a football fan at all and I would certainly watch a game live. I stand in line to the inlet, which is before us in two separate entrances divides.
left one is felted by Tanya, what the hell is here? Bollo is right and just scanned in a lot from him too much security jacket, a bearded types with curly gray hair. When he turns around, so it can Bollo tap from behind and his calves, I know him because of his swastika tattoo on his forehead. Bollo searches just really Charles Manson.
Holy shit. Noted here that for none? I try to call out who the Bollo, but no word coming out of my mouth. I'm trying to break out of the line, no chance. I can only forward or backward, if the queue of people moving. No one turns around, no one seems to notice how panicked I try to get out of here to come.
I calm down a bit, as Bollo at Manson finds a huge curved knife. He takes it as such, it throws in a small plastic crate in the countless already cutting and stabbing weapons are, I discover even as a kitchen hammer to soften chops, Manson then gives a friendly pat on the shoulder and does not aim it.
Tanja searches just Christian Palweißer edited to him briefly in the crotch, grinning at him and has him.
The snake moves up a bit. In the division, I will hold to the right, towards Bollo, although I much prefer to Tanya wants to ask them what this shit is simply my Freunden an die Eier zu packen. Aber keine Chance, schon stehe ich als dritter in Bollos Reihe. Ich schaue in den speckigen Nackens meines Vordermanns, welcher sich sofort umdreht und mich durch eine dunkel getönte Brille betrachtet. Es ist Mark David Chapman. Er grinst mich an, nickt mir zu und dreht sich wieder nach vorne. Bollo nimmt gerade jemandem, in dem ich glaube Lee Harvey Oswald zu erkennen, ein Rubinbesetztes Gewehr ab, welches er wie in einem Cartoon aus seinem Hosenbein zieht.
Ich bin völlig paralysiert, blicke noch mal zu Tanja, die gerade den Glatzköpfigen Polizisten auf die gleiche freundliche Art durchsucht.
Als ich wieder Richtung Einlass schaue, sehe ich, wie Bollo Chapman eine Ausgabe von „Der Fänger im Roggen“ decreases in disgust and throws it in the plastic box. He waves by Chapman and I come before smiling.
Bollos eyes remain cold, and he looks like he would not recognize me. I say "Bollo you what's up?". "Please spread the arms and legs." He answered indifferently. I follow the command and Bollo moves from the inside of the jacket which I wear a Lambruscoflasche. It is filled to one-third with red greasy fluid, which recalls little of wine. Even before it falls into the plastic box, I discover that it floats in OB, at the tape a piece of paper bearing the words "dignity" is.
I am so disgusted that I choke briefly, Bollo hits me on the back, as I would have choked on something and pressed me so by itself.

I stumble down the aisle in the corners of the stadium. It is moderately attended. As I let my eyes wander, I realize that the stadium stands are divided exactly in the middle. In my half, all that was controlled by Bollo and behind the huge mesh fence, I see Christian and the bulls are together at the beer stand. They are operated by Vanessa, who is somehow still sixteen and the dispensing only wearing a bikini. So I stand at the grill pressed and wonder for the thousandth time what this is all about. Just as I look around me, whether it is on this Seite auch einen Getränkestand gibt, man muss ja immer das Beste aus seiner Situation machen, dröhnt aus den Boxen höllisch laute Musik. Green Day singen sanft aber bis zum Anschlag aufgedreht: „It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life…” Die Streicher setzen ein und erfüllen das gesamte Stadion mit ihrem melancholischen Klang, sie sind so laut, dass ich beide Hände auf die Ohren presse. Als ich wieder in die Mitte schaue, sehe ich, dass zu der Musik die beiden Fußballmannschaften einlaufen, angeführt vom Schiedsrichter. Ich blicke zur Videoleinwand und als der Refrain erneut ertönt, inklusive der Streicher, erkenne ich den Unparteiischen, es ist Leppert.
He looks down from the video screen to the audience, he is ashen and looks infinitely sad, but he waves his lips form the words of Green Day songs. Tears running down my cheeks, I let her hands fall, the music fades and all the spectators on my side of the grandstand at the same time start to bawl, "Leppert, we know where your car was standing, a full tank, has burned well".

I wake up from my chair. It is pitch dark, only the flashing light, I lit on the table vibrating phones like a strobe light for a moment the room. The phone displays the call me Tanya. I just let it vibrate in my hand and try to get along. Der Traum überschattet jegliches Gefühl, ich wundere mich warum meine Ohren nicht Taub sind, von dem eben gehörtem Lärm und komme langsam zur Besinnung. Einen Moment kämpfe ich noch mit dem Gedanken, ob das nicht auch wieder ein Traum ist. Das Handy summt jetzt schon zehn Sekunden vor sich hin. Ich räuspere mich und nehme ab.
Tanjas Stimme ist bemüht keinerlei Emotionen zu zeigen. „Hab ich dich geweckt?“ „Schon, aber ist okay, wie spät ist es?“. „Es ist kurz nach eins.“ Antwortet sie, als hätte sie gar nicht erst nachschauen müssen. „Was gibt es? Alles in Ordnung?“. Aus der Pause schließe ich, dass dem nicht so ist, ich glaube auch an ihrer Stimme zu erkennen, dass sie geweint hat. „Kannst du vorbeikommen? Oder wir treffen uns irgendwo?“


Fortsetzung folgt...

Swollen Hands,fingers, Face/lack Of Sleep

blackout Part 7 b)

Fortsetzung des Kapitels 7 "Schorf"

Nachdem sich alle verabschiedet hatten und ich einige noch lächelnd als Pussys und Memmen bezeichnet hatte, bin ich mit Tanja allein. Die Situation ist mir unangenehm. Ich kenne sie kaum und spüre das nahende Desaster des peinlichen Schweigens. Lange kann das hier nicht gut gehen.
„Und was machen wir jetzt? Hier noch was trinken oder weiter ziehen?“ fragt sie mich lächelnd. Dieses Lächeln ist anders, es ist kein Grease grinsen, es ist ein ehrliches Lächeln. I do not know exactly what happened, but I actually think she is much better mood now than before. She looks incredible from attractive, with the sincere smile, but the thought of better times I push very far away.
"Well, I'm concerned, we can still drink one and continue the tour as a duo," I answer supposedly loose.
When we drank the beer, we make our way. We chat a bit and I give myself as honestly as necessary and as sympathetic as possible.
This implies not even necessarily that I am lying. It's more of a mitigating or emphasizing certain points, opinions and character traits. I realize how much my mind is that she likes me. As she told me how obnoxious she finds Jasmine since they returned from America, I wonder where this comes from extreme sympathy I have for this girl. It has to do something to definitely talk with their kind. I mean, is pretty, no question, but I found it really interesting from the moment at which I began to converse with her.
repeatedly moved my gaze to her face, she told me she knows Chris and the others but not me if I would go to high school, what I would do instead. I tell her about my training in the shabby Workshop and analyzed still wondering what so great as she speaks. While talking with her, you get the feeling that she is honest to one hundred percent natural and incredibly easy to say what she thinks.
It looks like the opposite of me, instead of turning every sentence before he speaks and to contact and to be clear about every word and their different levels of meaning, to be already prepared advance to any possible misunderstanding, it seems just start talking without any shame, without fear to say anything stupid or silly, and it also does not do.
It turns out that it is only just turned sixteen. My enthusiasm for this person grows, as as my respect. It is almost two years younger than me and I was her age is not nearly so serene, alert and intelligent and I get the feeling I am now not yet. A little depressed by the knowledge that I have the amazing girl next to me probably nothing to offer and there would be no reason for them in me more than a drinking buddies to see, I participate actively in the conversation again, so as not to drown in my passion (although it is already too late for that). Take me to other thoughts, I listen with one ear again Walkman ...

"And I swear it's the last time and I swear it's my last try, and we'll walk in circles around this whole block. Walk on the cracks on the same old sidewalks and we'll talk about leaving town. Yeah we'll talk about leaving "Less Than Jake sound from the standard front speakers of my Fiat, while I start the engine and exiting. Driving like to just consumed not be the best idea, but I do not have any choice if I want to come home. I drive past the apartment of my mother about it, but not a second whether I should continue. I pass well to the house Palweißer, then on the highway to my new apartment, which is a little outside. My home town to leave completely, let alone the state ist mir nie wirklich gelungen.

Mittlerweile sind Tanja und ich ziemlich voll. Wir hocken in einer meiner Stammkneipen, einem Irish Pub, haben jeder einen Tequila und einen Jägermeister sowie ein großes Bier vor uns stehen. In der Kneipe gibt es die so genannten „Fensterplätze“, eine Reihe von jeweils einem Tisch und zwei Bänken. Wir sitzen uns an einem dieser Tische gegenüber. Ich erzähle ihr lauter lustige Geschichten, Gerüchte und ähnliches.
Nicht zwingend um mich beliebt zu machen, mehr um sie Lachen zu sehen. Mittlerweile bin ich, auch aufgrund meines Alkoholkonsums, fest davon überzeugt schrecklich in sie verliebt zu sein. Ich bin schwer begeistert von ihrem Lächeln und ihrem Laugh (only from the honest, the Grease-me smile seems to stick and played dolls), perhaps because it treats so frugal than many women I knew before. As they stand up now and go to the bathroom grab me the first lower appetites.
I see her legs, her butt and had just nowhere better than with it here. I drink soon after my Jagermeister and tequila, I just struggle with the gag reflex, but it creates just me quickly to get two new before it is returned from the toilet. The perfect crime.
Now Something happened that I do not deal with it. She sits beside me.
We were sitting opposite us for an hour und ich kam super mit der Situation klar. Nun stellt sie sich neben die Bank auf der ich sitze und wartet darauf, dass ich weiter reinrutsche und ihr Platz mache. Zwei Leute sitzen sich immer gegenüber, wenn die Möglichkeit besteht, außer sie sind ein Paar und das sind wir auf keinen Fall, also was soll das? Mit einem leichten Unbehagen rutsche ich so nah an die Scheibe wie möglich. Sie setzt sich neben mich und zieht ihre Getränke zu sich ran. Ich sehe im Augenwinkel, dass sie mich anschaut, starre aber weiter auf mein Glas, da diese neue Konstellation mich mehr als nur überfordert.
„Dreh dich mal um bitte.“ Sagt sie und ich versteh überhaupt nicht, was das jetzt soll. Ich beginne leicht zu zittern und drehe mich to her, a moment looking into his eyes and then her face through it, while I fix an imaginary point behind her. "No," she says with a smile "I mean to the window." Still confused, I turn to the window and look out onto the pedestrian zone and opposite to the CD store. She grabs me gently played with a irritated groan and turns toward me so she can see my back. "Oh, this is Pennywise." Gets them out and only then did I understand.
I wear a hoodie that shows in the front only a hooded anarchists, who in a speech bubble "Fuck Authority" yells the name of the album and only
back is the band name. "I like Pennywise, especially Straight Ahead." I think she started the conversation about Pennywise, because she realized how uncomfortable I felt and I take the offer with thanks.
We talk about the pros and cons of the album and then I show her on my Walkman, the single release of Fuck Authority. Only when the song is over, I realize how cheesy that is that we are sitting here side by side and share the earphones. This is the modern counterpart to the milkshake with two straws or the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti.
Nevertheless I like it, despite everything, discomfort, because of my own helplessness, sitting as close to her. As I stare at while listening to the beginning of the next song, I discover a small scar on her chin point. "Where does the little scar?" I asked cautiously, hoping that it does not sound rude, and above all, because I really care.

I find again and that it therefore no sensible parking my car barely five minutes walk far away from my new apartment. The brief meeting with Tanya, has torn up the old wounds would have been much stronger than I thought. Me since then is no longer the head. But before I can again sink into self-pity as I would have achieved this because the relationship destroy etc. I reach the door. Until four months ago, I lived with her, we were even married. Only two years, but still. I sip past boxes of books which I have still not unpacked and will not support me in my chair. After brief reflection I get back and get a glass bottle full of milk from the refrigerator. While I enjoy the cold milk, I still think of her. Because it is not a bad person, she was always honest with me, has not before me the little money that I deserve to go out of his pocket and we have removed our belongings together purchased fair. This whole separation was no yelling, dispute or mud from statten. Im Nachhinein glaube ich, war genau dies das Problem. Ich höre mich in einem Selbstgespräch (die führe ich seit unserer Trennung immer öfter) sagen: „Die Vergangenheit ist vorbei. Das weiß ich. Die Zukunft, ist noch nicht hier, wie sie auch sein wird. Also, ist alles was es gibt, dass hier. Die Gegenwart. Das ist alles.“. ein Zitat aus Broken Flowers, einem meiner Lieblingsfilme, nur leider bin ich so weit weg von Bill Murray wie nur irgend möglich. Bill Murray flennt auch nicht, wenn er an seine Exfreundin denkt und lacht nicht auf der Beerdigung seines Freundes.

Fortsetzung folgt...

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Where Can I See Fisting

pause

When
you experienced
the last time
something
first
?

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Can Drinking Cause Gallbladder Attacks

blackout Part 7 a)

Schorf

7

It's just after nine clock in the morning, I sit while I wait for Bollo, on the steps of a bank building, above my head in a window hangs a giant poster.
appears in them, the typical picture-book family. She is blonde and beautiful with a captivating smile, he dark-haired with blue eyes met, will embrace both a child, blond and blue eyed and so absurdly cute that I think about a paving stone to scrape the sidewalk around him in the visage of this small Werbehure to . throw The family of the year is: "Make it for yourself and the ones they are really important. If they are debt free, even today. Cheap loans for a worry-free Leben.“. Angewidert drehe ich mich wieder nach vorne und starre die Straße entlang und halte Ausschau nach dem Auto meines Freundes.
Immer mehr Menschen gehen an mir vorbei und lassen es sich nicht nehmen mich detailliert zu begutachten, als wüssten sie ganz genau, dass ich gestern sagen wir mal, einen Totalausfall hatte. Die Gedanken an den vorherigen Tag und vor allem Abend, schiebe ich so weit weg von mir wie nur möglich, ich starre jetzt den Leuten die mich angaffen ebenfalls ins Gesicht und merke wieder wie ich sinnlos aggressiv werde. Ich bin kein gewalttätiger Mensch und komm mir jetzt nicht mit der Weinflasche und Chris, ich steigere mich nur gern in etwas rein, es befriedigt mich auf eine perverse Weise wenn ich mich über jemanden upset because the same time confirmed that I am different and better than the target of my hatred.
gape Why the flipping idiot standing around me all like that? Well, I am perhaps a bit scruffy look finished and out, my hair is greasy and my jacket dirty and full-... oh fuck.
I get up from the steps and walk as close with my face against the boy grimace that I must look like a pedophile just be the equivalent of Scarlett Johansson has seen. At last I see my reflection floating on the face of the boy in the disk. My whole chin is caked with blood, blood on my cheeks and my forehead are signs of a big bump. Damn. I forgot to wash myself in the area, no wonder all the monkeys to stare so I look like I had my face this morning held in a fan.
I want to consider just how to get well to a water tap and a mirror, when someone sticks his fingers gently into the page. "Hey, Benny, like ..." begins the formal expression of Tanya, as I turn around and discovered the accident was the time my face. "Oh God, how do you look for?". I look at closely, not able to bring out a word. She looks stunning. She was never the thinnest but she is hell good, she has long curly almost black hair, is even smaller than I, 1.65 m and has a smile when they Ausstrahlung die mich um den Verstand bringt. Ich sehe ihre kleine Narbe am Kinn, die hat sie von einem Schwimmbadunfall, als ein Junge sie auf den Beckenrand geschubst hat, das hat sie mir bei unserer ersten Verabredung erzählt.
Bitte nicht sie und nicht jetzt. Ich blicke aus Selbstschutz auf den Boden.
Seit sie die Scheidung eingereicht hat ist sie meiner Meinung nach noch hübscher geworden. Ist das nur, weil ich sie nicht mehr haben kann? Oder ist sie einfach glücklicher seitdem sie mich nicht mehr am Hals hat und wirkt daher attraktiver, ich weiß es nicht, ich glaube beides.
„Hallo? Ist alles okay?“. „Hey, weißt du was“ sage ich mit zitternder Stimme und den Blick starr auf meine Schuhe fixed, "it just does not work. Let's talk another time. ". I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket and walk past her. "Wait times, just hold me what's the matter?". She holds me gently by the arm. I catch myself emotionally a little, take a deep breath and decide to be honest, sometimes that's the best way, most actually. "Tanya is that just talk the worst possible time for me to just you." I smile a little.
"What happened?" She asks again, as if she had not heard what I was saying. "Oh, we had another drink after the funeral and there was a bit of trouble with a few other types "you can not always be honest," nothing earth shattering. But thanks for your sms, I was very pleased, "I smile again. can you eyed me more than critical, if anyone knows how well I lie, then. "Aha, you see, but from really bad, you were in the hospital?". "I'm just on my way out, Bollo picks me up and takes care of me." "Will you come just from the pub or what? You still stuck around blood on his face, I would wash myself in your place, eh first before I go to the hospital. "
" I will, I do, but pretty, I have to really go ". When their eyes get bigger, I realized what I said. Now it's too late to comment on this yet. I draw an imaginary hat and walk down the street, coming in the direction from which would Bollo. She remains behind me and says softly, "do well".


It's Saturday. I started my training already and am just with regular heavy drinking the whole weekend. We will all meet at Chris to start a pub crawl. The boys have all extremely drunk yesterday and are posted accordingly. I had to work yesterday to 22 clock and was not able to celebrate and have all the hotter now catch up.
I am animal on the pub crawl. In our small town we have no choice if we want to do something. The Rock on has now closed and no one has to take great pleasure in the nearest big city, so we rattle all the pubs within the series after.
When I arrive at Chris, the group is much larger than expected. An American exchange student named Henry, from Christian and David's school is to learn the German Saufkultur. As exchange students, particularly Americans, are always very great popularity, because the group has grown immensely. From planned six people have now become twelve. I did not know the people are also two women who care intensely about Henry, translate and explain everything to him.
I grab the names on the two girls, Tanya and Jasmine, but I do not know who is who.
I sit down with a freshly opened beer to the large dark wooden table in the dining room Palweißschen. Since I now feel a bit foreign and do not know exactly what to do about the so-called ice with strangers to break, I sat next to me with Bollo and start talking to him. We sit at the end of the table the rest of the group over. He and I have always had a talent to isolate us and to create in the macrocosm of the group a microcosm of our own discussion. While I
enjoyable drink the first sips of beer, just put half the bottle, I look more closely at the two girls. One of the girls looks incredibly nice, she smiles a lot and just has a candid look. The other lady does not look so happy.
puts you immediately on an artificial smile when someone speaks, nods and smiles at the right places, but as soon as it devotes more attention to no one, it looks like they would now prefer different everywhere, not just here. How to distract herself, she has intervened repeatedly in the interview with the exchange student, also not as good without the playing mood. I am amazed at the fact how well they can just switch. It's like changing the TV transmitter, there is currently, Grease and chop, on the other stations Schindler's List.
will slow me watching my discomfort and I turn back the full interview with Bollo, which just tells me his lack of understanding about which an American was so goddamn interesting. In fact, any call to the elongated cone-shaped table at Henry has directed. All except Bollo and I, who sit across from him, follow the Henry's comments and look in his direction.

When I emptied three to four beers together all the decision that it was now time to strike out and the tour to officially start.
We go to several rows of three stones and the public road in the direction of first Bars along. Some, who were earlier with Chris than I have already been quite open. I am quite right in a row and Chris Leppert and listen with the ear facing away from them Walkman. While I play for Me First and the Gimme Gimmes their cover version of Walking on Sunshine in mono, without the characteristic bass, I always drink the foam from my pint bottle Wolters. I like beer, really, and especially bottled beer, but it's not meant to drink it in motion.
apart from the fact that it has become for us just before that one with his bottle bottom of the bottle with the holes of the other person proposes to him to animate because of the bubble over to drink, it's real corrosive beer bottles to use as Wegproviant. But cans are much more suitable.
I open my mouth and just wants to verbalize my thoughts, as Leppert on the girls walking in front of us showing Henry have in their midst and says, "is now one of them along with Ami?" "One of those" asked Chris? blankly. together, "Well, how do you say it, but both are-... er ... fissile material, since one must still ask again." "No, no, both to him, although ostensibly paves what is between him and Jasmine. ".
I listen to the conversation and I try still to make clear which girl is which. I can not ask for fear I would be accused, I would be interested to know specifically for one of the two. And of course that is nonsense I am with two equally curious.
Hm, jasmine sounds southern, dark-haired, but both are seen not as the other from southern.
"I hate this city, I watch you on that, it's Saturday night and there is not a pig!" Leppert begins to give a speech, which reminds me of Mel Gibson discreetly in Braveheart. He speaks of dying as our small industrial town , as all students move away, because we do not have a university, as here, then just uneducated proles run around and it is up to us to bring even a few years of life here. We need the youth center even invite local bands to persuade our friends to celebrate not always go away and come here regularly, especially if we move away. This is our town, because it increases a bit clean and the should, they must remain so. He recognizes himself in the melodrama of his speech jumps, inelegant on a park bench on which we pass and yells "And now drunk, we drink!".


I sit with Bollo top of a hill above our view Place at night here is not called Bumsparkplatz. On the way here we have hardly spoken, Bollo is sitting next to me on the bench and rotate just the bag ready. He holds out the perfect shot through years of practice and I joint it to ignite.
I prefer strong, take a deep breath and again, reminds me of the draft back to the painful broken tooth. Smoke rises before us. I am Non smoking and the tobacco alone makes my head heavy, the effect of ganja does the rest. When I pass the bag to him Bollo looks at me, smiling. "Dude, you look so ready, can also have turned to short wash with me." "Oh, now is also matter.. " We sit side by side
taciturn. We have, as usual for male friendships, never talked about our feelings or the like. I know that he cares about me for days and this is what happened to the best, no matter how much shit I build Bollo has always understood me anyway.
I take up all my courage, my tongue is not modified by the THC eased a bit, also seems to me the whole situation no longer quite so catastrophic. "Leppert family has not said anything? Because of my ... "I'm looking for the right word" ... mishap? ". He begins to grin, grinning like someone who indeed equal to the electric chair comes but once again get to hear a really good joke. A kind of gallows humor.
'mishap? You're good, I would call it a disaster. "He plays the joint. I breathe deeply and hold down the voice answered: "What can I help it if the priest looks like the last idiot and they'll throw around with movie quotes. He just looks at me confused and then replied to my original question. "They were understandably not enthusiastic, however, was by far the most pissed-off Chris, the family and so were more confused and shocked." It fits. My bad conscience comes back like a steam roller and travels through my intestines. "Yes, I've noticed with Chris." Again I looked questioningly at Bollo, but this time waiting for a response. "What do you think why I look like finished?". "I just did you get the cops in your hair?". "But only after Chris and I ... - ... have come to blows.". Bollo
I tell how I am after my departure from the funeral to the bank, had withdrawn 120 euros and then started by our old local bar pull, like me Christian in the Irish pub and took the fight.
I wonder briefly if I let the Lambruscoflasche fall under the table, but the sooner he learns or later anyway. His eyes are bigger than me as I tell him before Chris had to pull the bottle over his head and he takes a deep train, the bag is almost up smoking. When I started waking up at the police station end, he looks at me, grinning slightly, he has slightly reddened eyes of the joint and the first time I realize how old he has become. "What is the matter with you?" He asks me directly. "I do not know, not really. The events have somehow hit the thing with Tanya, Leppert death, the funeral. This is me get out of control. ". He looks at me long, he knows any more what to say as I say and then: "I think I build one or more". I just listen to myself, I'm really much too tight. "Yes, good idea."



The evening rushes past me. We are already in the fourth shop, it's just become one and the first casualties. The American, Henry, who, incidentally, all non-Bollo made a nice impression and that it may not only because he hardly speaks a word of English
goes, along with several other lesser-known faces of the home.
We have it filled as it should be. Including some jokes at his expense. It's just clean fun if someone with an American accent a waitress asks: "Do they have a thick tail?". Prepubescent? Yes, but to throw away comic.
backwardness is now my beloved group of three including the two girls that I can now also assign particular. I've also found out that Jasmine, the lady seemed so appealing at first, a rather convinced of himself aunt, with which one can no longer talk than four minutes without having to then suppress the urge to strangle them.
She was also an exchange student, but in America and decorates her sentences with English words for their multilingual needs to be underlined. "Especially all the Boys in Los Angeles are more than just cute, really sexy guys over there, no comparison to German men. ". Oh God, yes, then you make yourself popular determined at a table with four types.
I propose times to push a shot are in between, what will be replied with a silly pun, unified head shaking. Only Tanya, who is sitting on me once before and is shown in only Schindler's List, asks me what I wanted to drink it. "Jägermeister? Tequila? I do not care. ". She decides to Jägermeister and ordered two. I notice that Chris looks quite ready, he still sipping his first beer in the store and does more than just tired. David is already quite full, for his means nothing special, but he also tends to like to go earlier. Even Bollo makes a poor situation and slowly I feel captures the fear that maybe soon they all want to go home. Chris
I cut my elbow slightly in the side and ask him to drink liquor, so the engine gets up to speed. He rejects grunting.
arrive in time for the master hunter, says Chris, now that his last beer (still his first) is, today would not go there much. And the avalanche begins. David agrees that he make the same on the way and would Bollo gets so even his last bus, which travels in Jasmin's direction (and hopefully through to hell). I try with a last appeal: "This is now not your fucking serious right? Looking forward me all day drinking again and you make to a slack while I'm just struck again. Come, little is still. Bollo can kip for me too ... "he shakes his head immediately," ... I have no desire to drink alone and stop further I will not. ".
"I do not count? I will also not go home. ". I look at Tanya blinked. "Then let it go the other people home if they think that they can not." Did she just ripped Jasmin? I can not believe my ears. I smile at her and hold her against my Jägermeister. "I'm here." We raise our glasses and while I drink the herbal liquor pisswarmen, I see the puzzled look jasmine, she has not been figured that she was being mocked, but has no idea how it will react.


We have smoked the second bag almost without speaking. After it burned down Bollo asks me what I intended now. "Showering is high on my list." "I think because of the Leppert and Chris," says seriously Bollo. "I do not know you, not the least. Can you apologize for something with the family? ". "Can I will not say I do not know how "he takes my last hope. "Did you leave?" I ask. "Yeah, why?". "We could drink beer with me two or three tonight or something to smoke. Maybe watch a movie? ". "No, I must digest the whole first will, do anything, I'll drive you right to your cart and then I'll go back kip."
I do not want to be alone today, can not say it but also because such acts that? He also said that he wants to be alone, so I would impose only like a whining idiot. However, I am more than uncomfortable to be sitting at the thought alone in my new apartment.
"'s true, sleep little I would also do well." Sage, I played with a relaxed tone.



continued (the chapter goes on) follows ...

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Phillipino Dessert Bisquick

blackout Part 6

The cactus garden

6

began to Where and when?
What has annoyed you?
What did you just ruined it?
The Stars - What you have just ruined it?



Chris has been turned the corner towards the parking lot, he noticed me yet. I stopped to run and go after him now with quick steps. My ears are buzzing, but not loud enough to the sound of rushing blood and my heart beating to drown. The wine bottle, I believe such start firmly clasped around her neck that my fingers know and sign up only in passing that the rest of the stinking Lambrusco in the sleeve of my jacket is what I wear for the funeral. Much more me busy my face. I touched my tongue with the front teeth and I am sure that at least one, if not even sit two loose. My nose, which feels as if she had grown to twice their size, and greatly hurts the warm, tasting slightly snot Blood runs through my lips and drips down my face. I wipe again and again how an eight-year-old on a cold winter morning, with the sleeves under the nose down, but that will only cause I smear the red Kroffi in half on my face and clothes.
I look around the corner, still mad with rage and scarcely able to think clearly and see Chris on his black BMW is received. I am only a few meters from him and he noticed me, by some miracle still, although I bumpkin like a mad rhino and hinschniefe myself as a music producer who has just a line marching powder from the rear of an eighteen year-old pop starlet has drawn. My friend reaches into his pocket and presses on the remote control key. In the flash of light the turn signal, I raise my bottle of wine over my head, Christian turns around suddenly, as he would have heard something.
His eyes are big and he stumbles to his car.

Before I know if I actually fly down the bottle and explode on the head of my friend, let me turn someone's arm with the bottle of pain on his back and makes me a leg. I have no chance to support me and clap at the same time with the wine bottle, with face first onto the asphalt. I feel like one of my front teeth nachgibt und ein Stück heraus bricht. Ich jaule auf vor Schmerz und Überraschung und höre eine raue Männerstimme, die mich aus nächster Entfernung zu meinem Ohr anbrüllt. Verstehen tu ich nichts, weder akustisch, noch die sich geänderten Umstände in denen ich mich befinde.
Ich versuche meinen Kopf zu heben und zur Seite zu drehen, als dieser wieder hart runtergedrückt wird, wobei ich mir mit dem angebrochenen Zahn stark auf die Zunge beiße. Frisches Blut mischt sich mit meinem Speichel. Noch nie in meinem Leben war ich so wütend.
Ich bäume mich auf, versuche mich zu wehren, ich sehe aus wie eins der Psychokinder aus so einer Real-Life-Dokumentation. Tränen fließen down my cheeks, I Keifer, spit blood Strampel, drum their feet on the ground until someone sits with her knees to my shoulder blades to me to fix Sun Despite the hopelessness of the situation, I try to continue to pull away, when suddenly the cold metal of handcuffs on my wrists, the backs to each other.


The adolescent would-be punk is not go far without a bull story. The confrontation with the authorities on the one you need to fully train your punk attitude, then you're talking about not only yes, but have also experienced times like really shit the police and the other to brag. Let it at concerts, parties or dates. My personal bull story I share with my Bollo.

Bollo's real name is Timothy Relund, a terrible name. Where did he get his nickname I can not say exactly what that means, that no special or exciting story behind it, Bollo fit just come to Timo. Bollo
I know more than we are friends, I kept him at first for a rather unfriendly, arrogant and unnecessarily aggressive asshole. When I got to know him better, but I noticed that my assumptions are not entirely wrong, but in the microcosm Bollone quite make sense. He was always the most direct, action-oriented, aggressive and therefore somehow more mature of us all. When we got to know us better, we discover a kind of kinship between us, as they can only adolescent males.
Our big brothers were the same age, were known to each other, and everywhere we were raised on them and were to some extent in its shadow. We were a fan of the exact same bands, liked the same movies and hated the same people. The only issue we had was whether there was Long and Thanks for All the Shoes or White Trash, and to Heeb's Been a NOFX Album So the best and we all know it is so long oh well Bollo also allowed to make mistakes.

like to, I started him on a very hot Day at the local lake. It was the last summer vacation begins before my education should be (Right, the anarchist would serve not the state as a slave who had nothing better to do than for its magnificent 3.8 he start secondary school certificate an apprenticeship as an electrician, what do I do?) .
Our entire circle of acquaintances had gathered in a meadow, an old boom box, this name does not deserve actually played our favorite songs, as sampler BRD Punk Terror battle or BRD.
appeared out of nowhere, a police car, a VW bus similar to the cycle paths in and drove at walking pace alongside the young people drinking her to show police presence.
Bollo, the NOFX to be not on his T-shirt looked at his punk attitude, got up suddenly and walked over to the police van. The next thing we saw how he was knocked against the side window of the cab, the passenger got out at once, seized him and laughing loudly Bollo on the bus and pushed the door drew upon from the inside.
all young people watch the show began to roar, the first anti-police slogans took to drive, turned the car and the bottles just missed him and drove the bus, no longer in step-like pace. Later we learned
that Bollo, after the disk was turned down, babbling and smiling, said: "Hi, I'd like one with two scoops of vanilla, a chocolate and a Sergeant, uh, Woodruff, sorry. "
surprised by this open audacity, have him then cashed the police and made the usual checks, could sue really he is not, of course, but without any reaction did the officials not let it go. I believe in the profession you are automatically humor completely resistant against mouthed adolescents.
From the day we Bollo was an institution. Not just him, all the green-white ice cream van story was a so-called Urban Legend in our city. Even today I meet people who tell you that a friend of a friend would have done just that.
frivolous impressed, I thought the Bollo probably not so can be a post.
later one to two parties, we were friends. We exchanged our thoughts on the Bundeswehr, the approaching police state, women, movies and alcohol.
We were almost all in the same opinion, and even though I've never had a ranking that can be said that it and linked me something. I get it together to this day right, but somehow, the chemistry simply if you will.
It must have been pretty much a year later, when I had my first serious encounter with the police. Of course I was
for concerts or the like has often in the anonymous mass und habe auf die Bullen geschimpft, allerdings wurde ich bis zu diesem Abend nie persönlich mit ihnen konfrontiert.

Jetzt sind Bollo und ich die letzten Gäste im Rock on, der einzigen Disko in unserer Kleinstadt. Trotz des Namens läuft hier überhaupt nicht unsere Musik. Der Laden ist die typische Dorfdisko mit Mini-Tanzfläche, schlechten Clubsongs und dem lokalen Proletenpack. Allerdings auch mit den charakteristischen Saufangeboten für gelangweilte Jugendliche. Kartensaufen. 25 DM (oder waren es schon Euro?) für eine Karte bezahlen, auf der ein Guthaben von 50 verzeichnet ist.
Jeder von uns hat mittlerweile eine Karte leer und wir trinken mit Hilfe der Reste auf den Karten unserer bereits gegangen Freunde. Die gefühlte achtzigste Mischung Wodka-Kirsch kriecht meinen Rachen hinunter.
Nach einem weiteren Wu Tang Clan Song verstummt die Musik und die Lichter gehen an. Wir werden freundlich aber bestimmt gebeten zu gehen. Nach einigen besoffenen Verhandlungen, können wir für die letzten noch nicht markierten Geldkästchen auf den Karten zwei Flaschenbiere herausschlagen und haben so sogar noch Reiseproviant.
Als wir den Hof des Rock on betreten ist der Himmel schon etwas aufgehellt. Ich versuche Bollo einen Schrittfehler zu verpassen, wobei ich beinah selbst mein Gleichgewicht verliere.
Wir reden lallend über Musik, darüber wie cool es doch wäre, wenn mitten im Hip Hop Song ein Lied von Slime eingespielt werden würde. Deutschland, Karlsquell, ACAB Bull or pigs.
begin in telepathic agreement we both while singing. Through the streets of one-family houses resounds the echo. "Fascism here in this country, is gradually prevail, we must do something about it, otherwise we can not the cops alone!". We shout so loud that we do not hear the sound of approaching from behind. The headlights are perceived only peripherally, as we apply to the chorus. "We do not want! Pig! We do not want! Pig! Molly and stones! Bull against pigs! "
hardly is the last Bull pigs died away, the police car passed us und kommt quietschend vor uns auf dem Bürgersteig zum Stehen.
Ein glatzköpfiger Riese von einem Polizisten steigt bereits brüllend mit hochrotem Kopf aus dem Auto. Er kreischt irgendwas von Respektlosigkeit, davon das wir betrunken sind und das er unsere Personalausweise sehen will. Ich muss zugeben, ich bin eingeschüchtert von dieser Gestalt und greife schon zu meinem Portmonee, als Bollo laut zu lachen anfängt. Ich nehme die Hand aus meiner Tasche und greife stattdessen zu meinem Bier, welches ich aus Reflex zu meinen Füssen abgestellt hatte. Die Bowlingkugel wird noch lauter: „Jetzt raus mit euren Scheiß Personalausweisen! Sofort!“. „Warum?“ fragt Bollo, „Weil wir ein Lied gesungen haben?“ and has the greasy grin on his face I have ever seen. "Gg-exactly" I mix myself a "we just sang a song, what is even available on CD, so the fascist one's singing is forbidden, this state is still not right?". Even surprised by my courage, I note in passing as someone second exit from the car. A blond woman jumps out of the car and speaks to her radio: "Two rioters rear corner street, St Andrew Way, request reinforcement.
formed in my head slowly, the idea that we can only draw the short straw, but that while the behavior of officials at ridiculous hardly be surpassed ist.
Diesmal beginne ich laut zu Lachen, ich halte mir sogar mit einer Hand den Bauch und als der männliche Beamte weiter brüllt und uns auffordert unsere Ausweise zu zeigen, während Bollo ihm eine völlig bescheuerte Rede über Meinungsfreiheit hält, kommen wir aufgrund der Surrealität der Situation die Tränen.
„Du willst diskutieren?“ sagt der Polizist in einem bedeutend ruhigeren Ton, um danach umso lauter fortzufahren:„Dir ist schon klar, dass das Beamtenbeleidigung war?! Was hattet ihr gesagt?“ „Bullenschweine!“ antwortet Bollo wie aus der Pistole geschossen. „Ah, schon wieder!“. Neunmalklug, ohne zu wissen das er am kürzeren Hebel sitzt says Bollo: "Well, first I sang only one song that appeared on the Slime CD's seed, and secondly, even would say if I like that they are a cop, pig, what I do not do, that would be only an expression my opinion. "
Before him will be answered, two more police cars turn the corner. Bollo starts to laugh out loud again. I had almost calmed down and I have now even put on the floor. Instead of the song echoes now get off our laughter by the road than from any car, even two police officers.
Since there are six police officers in front of me and Bollo, two very innocent-looking seventeen-year olds who are so drunk they are barely can. When we are threatened that they get the cards, if we do not give them, we throw them still whinnying our Persos.
During one of the newly arrived police officers, sits down with our statements in a car and the loudmouth shouting at us continue to Bollo is laughing beside me. We look at just shaking his head, unable to understand what this elevation is.
We make a few provocative jokes about dead bodies that we would have buried in the woods and lighted cars when we get back our identity cards already.
suddenly changes the tone of the official who now probably do not know quite what was it all. He screams no longer speaks to us but from a place reference, and tells us that we, we should not apologize to him and his colleague, expect a fine for insulting had. Now it is back again Bollo the losprustet while even shows the finger at the officials like a kid in the playground laughing at what a different child. The complexion of the police officer is again significantly darker and he and yells "Now bugger off at last!" In the face as we continue to attract Giggling Danner.
Five days later, I stand before my deep disappointment-eyed parents and explain to them the situation and say that they have to pay 150 DM fine for me and ask im selben Atemzug ob sie den Brief für mich einrahmen könnten.


Ich wache unter einer kratzigen Decke auf. Mir tut alles weh aber das schlimmste ist der Durst. Der Geschmack in meinem Mund ist undefinierbar und unerträglich. Ich öffne die Augen und sehe Fliesen. Ich sehe ein alles einnehmendes Grau. Es riecht nach Desinfektionsmitteln und meinen eigenen Ausdünstungen. Außerdem habe ich den eisenhaltigen Geruch von Blut in der Nase.
Die Erinnerung kehrt langsam aber umso erschreckender zurück. Hätte ich wirklich Chris erschlagen wenn nichts dazwischen gekommen wäre? Ich kann es mir kaum vorstellen, hatte allerdings schon ausgeholt, das weiß ich ganz genau. Hätte ich noch withdrawn?
I rummage through my pockets and notice here that I was taken off my phone, my wallet, keys and even my belt. I can still remember the ride in the patrol car and the fact that one of the policemen who arrested me had a mustache on the Magnum would have been jealous. I must have fallen asleep at some point. The arrival of the police station is completely deleted.
I do not have a clock that is still a reliable sense of time and a window it is not natural.
I to judge, due to wince in pain together in my head. I exploiting my face stringent. I feel crusted blood, my nose is extremely swollen and my lips are numb. When I was scanning with the tongue my teeth I find the broken tooth and cringe. Even my tongue hurts and sucks the taste of blood is everywhere. Now what I need even more urgent and important to drink a mirror. A sink would be an advantage. At least one toilet is here. I stand and swaying gently in front of the tinny hole in the ground and try to avoid the biggest splash and enjoy the relaxation of pressure on my bladder. A sigh of wind and leaves my mouth hurts again on the damaged tooth.
When I waver for a Bell or the like around, I hear how the latch of the door be pushed back behind me. "Well, has rested Sleeping Beauty". A police officer who stops for fun, that's what I need it now. I turn around and there is indeed the shouter stands in the doorway. It has become clear older, got himself a fancy ring made of hair growth, but it is unmistakably the same official. I try to speak to my dry lips stick and when I open them I hear the sound of a formal Velcro. "Um ... Hi ... I can go ... well,". I'll wait a few terrible seconds that he recognizes me and like to think, to see how he is trying to classify me in his memoirs. "Jupp, we just need ne signed by them and then they get their stuff back. They can also expect mail from us, for resisting arrest. Post from the attorney of their friend, they'll have this too. "He added smugly.
I follow him up the stairs to the office, I will sign a statement which I did not even read through and stumble out of the station. I just want to get out as quickly as possible here.
Now I'm at the ass of the world, without a car. The worst thing I could think of now, bus or train would be to drive. I look in my wallet and find a tenner. Taxi is also so shallow. I walk down the street, look into my phone, which I had been issued since the funeral. Two minutes later I had four short messages. A future of my ex-wife, who feigns pity and asks if everything was okay, one that me pointing out the five new messages on my mailbox, one from Chris, who asks me what I actually imagining who I am and that he talk to me and wants the last of Bollo. Timo, my soul mate, my hetero-life partner, the only one who understood the situation and asks me if I'm in the message clear, not if I was to report me. If anyone can help me then er. Ich wähle mit zitternden Händen Bollos Nummer. Dank des Sendens meiner Nummer hebt er mit den Worten ab: „Ben? Alles klar?“.
„Hey Bollo, kannst du dich noch an den glatzköpfigen Riesenbullen erinnern?“


Fortsetzung folgt...