roses are red, violets are blue, what the fuck

I - Intro



It started like any other day, really. It was a sunny day, summer was just starting and I was at home. I was writing a poem for someone's birthday. I didn't want it to be a serious poem though, more like a joke poem, you know, something among the lines of 'roses are red, violets are blue, I'm glad you're not a jew' but with less antisemitism, because I don't really know if she's got jewish relatives or friends. And because I didn't want to sound like an insensitive prick either. So I was in my living room, sitting and thinking what to write while my dog was on the sofa, as usual. All of a sudden it started raining. I hadn't realized it wasn't sunny anymore, and to be honest I shouldn't have been surprised that it was raining. A few hours ago I had seen some huge storm clouds to the east and said to myself 'mh, wonder if it'll rain one of these days'. But I was surprised. And I was also happy, for some reason. Rain tends to do that to me; make me inexplicably happy for some minutes. I guess I could explain that by going back to when I was a kid and I would skip school if it rained really bad, but then again since as far as I can remember, I've always loved rain. I'm not the sunny day kind of guy, in fact sun bothers the hell out of my eyes sometimes. So yeah, I had written 'Dear Lina' as a title and below that 'roses are red, violets are blue' and I just kept thinking of something witty and funny to write when all of a sudden someone knocks at my door. It was strange, you see, I've a door bell and this isn't the fucking 17th century. I got up and answered. It was Fede, a good friend of mine:

"Why the fuck did you knock the door instead of using the bell?" - I asked

- I thought I'd roleplay a bit and pretend I'm in the 17th century - he said. He's kind of an idiot sometimes.

"Well... come in, what's up?"

- Oh, nothing much, except for the fact the mob's kidnapped Ema - Ema's another good friend of mine.

"Wait, come again? The mob? Ema? Why the fuck would they do that? I didn't even know the mob existed here! Did I wake up on a parallel universe today?" - I yelled. I was slightly upset at the bizarreness of the situation.

- Yes, they took him in a black car like half an hour ago when we were just walking around -

"And how the fuck do you even know they're the mob? Did they give you their business card or something, you stupid fuck?" - I curse a lot when I'm pissed off.

- Well... yes. - He handed me over a business card. It said 'Joey Cifarrello - Mafia member'. I was astonished.

"Anything else? Did they ask for anything? Any idea why they took him?"

- They mentioned something about you ripping off the Hitman franchise and writing a short story about it. Something about some Eastern European dudes. -

"Why would anyone have a problem with a short story I wrote and published on facebook and my private blog? Did everyone become stupid all of a sudden?" - I was still pissed off.

- Well, I gotta go, but you ought to give 'em a phone call. Let me know if there're any news. Gotta go back home or my wife's gonna kick my ass - His wife wasn't the kind of woman you'd like to see angry.

"Alright, catch you later" He ran off towards my window, crashing into it and jumping off. Once again I was glad I lived on the first floor.



II - The call.



I was mad. I was nervous. I was angry. I was confused. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. After a while, and a few daydreams in which I end up getting shot by some random thugs, I started wondering whether I should call this Joey Cifarrello guy or not. Why the hell is his name Joey? We're in Buenos Aires, not New Jersey. And why does he have a business card? He's not a goddamn lawyer. In the end I decided to phone him, because whether they were mobsters, lawyers, clowns, astronauts or midgets wasn't really important. What was important was the fact that they had kidnapped my friend and I didn't know if he was still alive. I told myself he probably was, since their problem was apparently with me. I picked up the phone and dialed the number.



"H-h-hello? Is this Joey Cifarrello?" - I uttered, like a nine year old kid admitting he was playing football in the living room.

- Vinnie's Restaurant. 9 o'clock. Come alone - He hanged up.



Joey surely didn't have any manners, but I suppose that's not a requeriment to join the mafia.

I knew where Vinnie's Restaurant was, yet somehow it never occured to me that this place also had a suspiciously American name for an Argentinian place.



III - Sergio



I was as scared as a black guy in a zombie film. I knew I was going to get screwed one way or the other. I was well aware of the fact that I wasn't Bruce Willis and that if I walked into that place, odds were I would, at the very least, end up missing walking around. Luckily I knew very well how the restaurant looked like. I could probably draw a basic blueprint of the place if I wanted to. I knew it was a small place with a few tables and a bar. Nothing really fancy. They told me to go alone, but I wasn't suicidal. Oh no sir, I wasn't a selfdestructive idiot. I trained my dog so that she'd attack anyone who had even the slightest Italian accent. Because, following the stereotypical world I was living in, odds were these mobsters were Italo Americans. But that wasn't all. My dog wouldn't be enough to protect me from a bunch of tough guys. I knew I could count on Fede to come with me and be somewhere outside, acting as my guard in case anything horrible would happen to me in there, but none of that would work if we didn't have the firepower to make it work. Luckily I knew just the right person for this kind of situation. I picked up the phone:



"Sergio? I need your help. Friend of mine's been kidnapped and I-" He interrupted me.

- MY LITTLE PONY MY LITTLE PONY MY LITTLE PONY - He yelled. - Oh, yes. Go on, I'm sorry if I scared you, it's just that I was.. eh, just go on, tell me what's the matter -

"Well, I need to borrow some of your... valuable items"

- Oh yeah sure, come over, the door will be open. Do NOT come before 4pm though - I was scared.



I met with Fede at his place, and together with Mia (my dog) we went to Sergio's place. The door was opened, just as he said. His apartment hadn't been taken care of in years. The walls were all muddy, the wallpaper was wet and rotting away. There was an odd smell of fish and gasoline in the air that made me shiver.



"Look, he's a really good guy and he's helped me countless of times but I'm sure he's not alright in the head, you know what I'm saying? Just, don't look him straight in the eyes" - I told Fede

- Alright - He uttered, the same way I did when I was on the phone with Joey.

"Hey, stop that, stop it!" - My dog was chewing on what it seemed to be, a doll with a WWI gas mask.



We walked towards Sergio's room and I could hear really loud techno music and a strange, robotic voice speaking in a language I didn't really know. We went in and Fede screamed horrified, just like I did the first time I had ever gone into that bedroom. Sergio was completely naked with a prosthetic leg inbetween his legs and a WWI gas mask covering his face. The techno music with the robotic voice was a video on his television featuring, what must've been, an edited version of My Little Pony.



"Sergio? Sergio!" - He didn't answer. I got closer to him and took off his mask while repeating 'Oh god, oh god'.

- I TOLD YOU NOT TO COME BEFORE 4PM, GODDAMNIT - He screamed like an enraged psychopath. He probably was an enraged psychopath.

"It is 4pm already" - I said.

- Oh is it? I'm sorry, I was just, eh... - He turned off the tv and looked at me as if he had finished that sentence. He knew I didn't want to know what was going on - Anyway, who's this bitch you came with? - He asked.

"That's Mia and she's my dog, show some respect, asshole" - I didn't like when people insulted my dog.

- I mean that guy - He pointed at Fede.

"Oh- I-I'm j-j-ust Fede, F-f-ranco's friend" - He was as scared as I was when I met this sick son of a bitch.

- Shut the fuck up, I didn't ask you, did I? - Sergio yelled again.

"Calm the fuck down man, he's my friend" - I said angrily, pushing him. I wish I hadn't though, his chest was sticky.

- Fine, fine. There, in that trunk. That's all you can borrow from me. Just make sure you take care of them and bring them back in one piece. -



I opened the chest and found just what I needed. Two guns, a sniper rifle and a bulletproof vest. There also was a picture of an Asian man wearing a tuxedo punching baby seals, but I figured I wouldn't need that. I thanked Sergio and got the hell out of there with the weapons before he had one of his outbreaks.



IV - Joey & Carl



It was almost 9pm. I couldn't stop thinking about getting stabbed in the face or whatever it is mobsters do to those who write shitty short stories. We were around the corner of Vinnie's Restaurant getting ready.



"Alright, you just chill outside and pay attention if anything happens."

- Woof, woof! - Mia barked in agreement

"You stay in the other building and be ready with that rifle."

- Woof, woof! - Fede barked in agreement.



I took a deep breath and headed to the restaurant. I knew I was going straight to a highly possible death but I needed to know what they wanted. That, and something about Ema being kidnapped. I kinda had forgotten about it. I walked in and there were two men sitting in a table. One of them was bald and had a big moustache. The other guy looked quite strong. He was tall and had the shoulders of a beast. A beast with huge shoulders.



- Come on in, take a seat - Said the bald guy. I walked towards them and sat down.The waiter came to our table.

"Give him some goddamned coffee, you rude motherfucker!" - Said the giant guy as he crashed a bottle of whiskey on the waiter's head. He passed out and left me with no coffee. "Shit happens" - He said.

- I didn't want coffee anyway. Where's my friend? - I couldn't believe I just went straight to the point like that. Like I just didn't give a fuck about these guys shooting me. I also almost pissed myself.

"Well well well, don't you think you'd have to do something for us before you even know the answer to that question? What do you think Carl?" - Said the bald prick. I was starting to hate them.

- I think we should just fuck him up right here and right now Joey - Said Carl as my legs started shaking like I was a tap dancer or something.

"Woah woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves folks, of course we can arrange a deal. What do you want me to do?" - I was beyond frightened by then. The closest I had been to be killed by organized crime members before was when I was watching The Sopranos, and it's not like I could've been murdered that time.

- Write. Our boss wants you to write for him - Carl said.

"What? Write? Why, why didn't your boss just ask? Why did he kidnap my friend? I would've probably done it for free. I'm not even a professional writer. What, I mean what the fuck people?" - I really meant it.

- We just follow orders. Now let's head outside so that we take you to the boss. - Said Joey.



We got outside and to my surprise my friends were actually prepared. Joey didn't even finish commenting on how much his boss wanted me to write for him when Mia just jumped off and bit his neck like a wild, blind raged beast. At the very same time, a gunshot was heard and Carl dropped dead with a bullethole on his forehead.



- Fuck yes, I got him! - Said Fede. I just stood there, thinking whether I should write my own epitaph or just douse myself in gasoline and light a match.

"Which part looked threatening to you? We were simply walking out of the restaurant. They weren't beating the crap out of me. Why, just why did you shoot them?" - I was being hard on him. It wasn't his fault. I would've probably done the same.

- You'd have done the same, asshole - He knew me too well.

"Let's head back to my place, I need a shower like you need a hitman job. Seriously, when did you become so good with the sniper rifle?" - He just smiled and remained silent, acting cool.



V - Holy shit, what the fuck, is this how it ends?



Taking a shower was always relaxing for me, no matter the situation. It always helped me think things through and it also helped me smell like a decent human being. But this time, it didn't work. I mean, I did smell like a decent human being afterwards, but I wasn't relaxed at all. We had just killed two members of god knows what criminal organization. Fede was quiet, and so was I. We were sitting in my living room, thinking our friend was probably already dead and being digested by pigs. "roses are red, violet are blues" I read my half written joke poem. It was already too late to deliver it. It was past midnight and no longer her birthday. Just when I thought I might as well drink myself to death, my phone rang.



"Hello? Who the fuck is this?" - I asked. I was way beyond the point of giving a fuck.

- Mr Guarino? I do believe I've got something of your interest. Or, actually, someone. - Said a voice similar to that of Morgan Freeman.

"Oh god, please don't tell me you're Morgan Freeman" - I kind of gave in to my own stupidity.

- What? No, you stupid idiot. If you want Ema to live, come to your friend Sergio's apartment. Oh yes, he's also my victim now too. - He hung up.



We got to Sergio's place in what seemed to be hours, but was probably a few minutes. I had left Mia at home, because I didn't want her to end up the way I probably would.



- I fucking hate the way this place smells - Fede said.

"Yeah, me too. I never really asked him what the smell is. Everything about this place terrifies me."

- Look who's here, the prick who thinks he's too good to write for me so he kills my two men - Said the boss. He was an old man yet he looked strong. He was quite big and had a white moustache that would make anyone tremble. I wasn't an exception.

"You kidnapped my friends, what the hell did you expect?" - Again, where the hell do I get those balls from?

- Oh please, this sick pervert is your friend? - He pointed at Sergio. He was still naked and was tied up. I don't know whether he got tied up by the boss or he tied himself up because the ponies told him to.

"Well... yes." - I was slightly ashamed. Really, Sergio's fucking weird sometimes. Ok, all the time.

- You're actually risking your own life to save him?! - And that's when the boss committed a fatal mistake. As he said that, he looked Sergio straight in the eyes. Sergio broke free and screamed like a werewolf. He jumped towards the boss, pushing me aside with inhuman strength and started biting off the boss' face until he no longer was a living being.

"Holy shit, what the fuck" - I said. Those were the only words that could be said in that situation.

- What, what, what the fuck did just happen? - Fede asked. I had no answer. I only knew I was right all along whenever I told someone not to look him straight in the eyes.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here?" - Said Sergio, completely naked and covered in blood.

- Oh, nothing. We were just leaving. Right Fede? Yeah, we were leaving. See you - I said in less than a second as I pushed Fede out and left.



Outside there was a black Mercedes we had ignored on our way in because we were too focused on our meeting with the boss. We were pretty sure it was his car. It wasn't the kind of neighbourhood you'd expect to see that kind of car in.



- Let's check the trunk - Fede said as he started lockpicking it.

"Where the hell did you learn that? Same place you learnt to shoot a sniper rifle? Asshole" - I was jealous he was more of a super secret agent than me.



He opened the trunk and to our surprise and relief, Ema was there.



- Fuck yes, I've been in there the whole day, holy shit I smell like a dead horse - I don't know how dead horses smell, but it they smell the same way he smelled, then it must be horrible.

"Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?" I asked.

- No, they just kept me in here since they kidnapped me. Who were these guys anyway?

"The mafia"

- Don't fuck around, really. Who were these guys? - He repeated

"The mafia, really. Also, Fede is some kind of super soldier... let me tell you on the way home. You could really use a shower" - And off we went to my place, because this asshole really, really needed a shower.

LA CONCHA DE LA MADRE

Había escrito como medio post y se me borró completamente porque, porque PORQUE ES LA CULPA DE STEVE JOBS QUE SE MURIÓ Y LA NANCY. Puta madre que los parió a todos. En resumen mencionaba el hecho de que mi post sobre no haber tenido internet por 19 días parecía una idiotez al lado de no haber tenido internet por 3 PUTOS meses. Mencionaba música electrónica que se escuchaba afuera de mi casa, pero eso ya ni gracia tiene mencionarlo ya que no suena más y el efecto que tenía sobre mi ser ya no está. Luego dije que estaba matando el tiempo hasta la hora de cenar y que luego iba a festejar el cumpleaños de un ex-compañero del profesorado, y mencionaba que soy el 2do ser mas sociable de la blogósfera argentina. Y ahi para hacerme el vivo quería poner una foto del Gato Dumas y mandar de epigrafe después del cadaver del Gato Dumas pero por alguna razón no podía subir la imagen como se debe y todo se fue al carajo. Y asi es como un post mas o menos como la gente terminó siendo un rejunte de puteadas y resumen de un post mediocre incompleto. Cuando pasó eso me puse a buscar si por alguna intervención divina esto tiene una función de autograbado que guarda automáticamente cualquier mierda que escribo cada tanto (creo que antes existía tal cosa) pero nada. Pero lo que encontré fueron borradores de posts que nunca subí que ni recordaba que había. No son nada interesante, algunos ni siquiera dicen nada, pero hubo uno que me hizo reír bastante. El post en si no decía nada pero el título era roses are red, violets are blue. fucking whore. No se de donde saqué eso pero mi yo del pasado es un genio (me amo tanto). Después hay otro del día del amigo, bastante corto, en el que explique mas o menos que iba a escribir un post como la gente sobre porque el día del amigo se la come pero después se me fueron las ganas. Y luego hay uno, el cual deduzco que era una historia, el cual decía: "Era una noche fría y no parecía haber nadie en las calles. Volvía del trabajo agotado, caminando". Solamente eso. Claramente era parte de una historia ya que, rara vez hablo como Max Payne (y pretendo ser tomado en serio) y "volvía del trabajo agotado" es claramente un fenómeno ficticio en mi vida, JA. Aunque pudo haber encajado en mi vida 2 semanas atrás cuando todavía trabajaba en un supermercado. Si lector imaginario! Trabajé 3 semanas en un supermercado, hasta que la actitud de dickhead de mi jefe me llevó a renunciar, because fuck that guy, seriously.
Me parece que la opción para subir imágenes está funcionando como el orto, ya que... bueno, me anda como el orto. Una lástima, se pierden del Gato Dumas y una gran foto de quien fue un gran chef y un CLON DE BILL MURRAY POR EL AMOR DE DIOS SON IGUALES, SEÑORA. No, no puede ser. Que ridículo que soy, como va a ser un clon. Obviamente son la misma persona. Lo cual significa que el Gato Dumas se comió a Scarlett Johansson. Si antes habían dudas, ahora está claro que soy sin lugar a dudas el 2do de la Blogósfera argenta en comparación con el cadaver de éste crack. Y bueno nada, creo que me voy a pegar una ducha ya que apesto. Los dejo con una gran escena del Gato Dumas para que la disfruten. Bah, clickeen acá ya que tampoco me deja poner el video como quiero, blog de mierda. Baphomet rules supreme.

Cambié el diseño del blog

Pero no escribí nada nuevo. Baphomet manda.

I need michael bay's phone number

Franco says (21:29):

*----- says (21:28):

*dude

* ---- says (21:28):

*are you high

Franco says (21:29):

*why do I get that all the time

Franco says (21:29):

*is it the charlie sheen pic

Franco says (21:29):

*or my msn comment

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:29):

*probably

Franco says (21:29):

*Franco says (21:28):

*no

Franco says (21:28):

*I'm as sober as a mountain goat

Franco says (21:29):

*I don't think that really helped

Franco says (21:29):

*because mountain goats are high... as in high mountains

Franco says (21:29):

*altitude

Franco says (21:29):

*etc

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*yes

Franco says (21:30):

*shit

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*tell him you're a low altitude moutain goat

Franco says (21:30):

*I should've said I'm as sober as a shark

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*they live in water bru

Franco says (21:30):

*Franco says (21:30):

*a low altitude mountain goat though

Franco says (21:30):

*else I'd be high

Franco says (21:30):

*yeah I know

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*precisely

Franco says (21:30):

*they can't be high

Franco says (21:30):

*UNLESS

Franco says (21:30):

*SHARKS

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*FLYING FUCKING SHARKS

Franco says (21:30):

*EVOLVE

Franco says (21:30):

*HOLY FUCK MAN

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:30):

*legs?

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*arachnid snarks

Franco says (21:31):

*legs wings machineguns

Franco says (21:31):

*NO

Franco says (21:31):

*jesus

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*yes

Franco says (21:31):

*arachnoshark

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*fucking yes

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*you'd be swimming, being aawesome

Franco says (21:31):

*now that's a movie michael bay would like

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*all of a sudden

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*bam

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*shark

Franco says (21:31):

*BAM

Franco says (21:31):

*ARACHNOSHARK STRIKES

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*oh shit, get to safety

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*you're on land, 20 feet in

Franco says (21:31):

*u run directly into its web

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*oh yeah, no worries

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:31):

*exactly

Franco says (21:32):

*and ofc

Franco says (21:32):

*they're as poisonous

Franco says (21:32):

*as a very poisonous spider.

Franco says (21:32):

*AND IT CAN SEE IN THE DARK AND THROUGH YOUR SOUL SO THAT IT FEEDS ON YOUR FEAR

Franco says (21:32):

*AND AND

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:32):

*and it will mate with a centiwolf

Franco says (21:32):

*IT HAS EINSTEIN'S BRAIN TOO

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:33):

*centisharkwolfarach

Franco says (21:33):

*yes

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:34):

*with einsteins brain

Franco says (21:34):

*then it allies

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:34):

*shit just got serious

Franco says (21:34):

*with cthulhu

Franco says (21:34):

*but we're all saved by

Franco says (21:34):

*CHARLIE SHEEN

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:34):

*fuck yeah

Franco says (21:34):

*BAM, movie climax

Franco says (21:34):

*he fights 'em to death with his bare hands

Franco says (21:34):

*he's like

Franco says (21:34):

*YOU'RE TWO

Franco says (21:34):

*SO I'M BIWINNING

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:35):

*and, in the background, tyson is eating babies

Franco says (21:35):

*he always is.

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:35):

*the fight takes place in the same city tyson lives and ends up in his house(?)

Franco says (21:36):

*tyson is in

Franco says (21:36):

*argentina

Franco says (21:36):

*I'm no kidding

Franco says (21:36):

*he's in some famous show here (retarded show i hate)

Franco says (21:36):

*he's dancing

Franco says (21:36):

*.

Franco says (21:36):

*dancing.

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:36):

*what

Franco says (21:36):

*look

Franco says (21:36):

*it

Franco says (21:36):

*up

Franco says (21:36):

*'mike tyson showmatch' or something

(F) Nathan / Fusing with the core says (21:36):

*ok

Franco says (21:40):

* ---- says (21:40):

*hes like a pirate hedgehog

Franco says (21:40):

*YEA

Franco says (21:40):

*AND IM HIGH

Karma chama-chama-chama-chama-chamaleooooooon

En mis viajes he visto cosas que sin lugar a dudas me han dejado sin palabras. Paisajes que van mas allá de lo surreal, fenómenos intrincados y misteriosos y criaturas que parecen de otro mundo. Pero si hay una criatura que es peligrosa y extraña por igual, es el lagarto kármico. El lagarto kármico es un reptil gigante, del tamaño de un automóvil familiar, que posee características únicas. Como atributo principal presenta una habilidad única de cambiar de color a su antojo, consiguiendo así mimetizarse con su ambiente y obtener resistencia a diferentes peligros que puede presentar el mundo que lo rodea. Por ejemplo si el lagarto adopta el color rojo, es capaz de soportar temperaturas altísimas sin ser perjudicado. Por otro lado, el color azul le permite respirar bajo agua y ser inmune a el poder místico de Aquaman, el enemigo mortal del libre albedrío acuático.

Facho.

El otro atributo principal que presenta este reptil de proporciones bíblicas es su poder de maldecir las vidas de aquellos que lo tocan. Un mero contacto con la bestia y la suerte del individuo parece declinar exponencialmente hasta terminar en la perdición eterna y consecuente muerte.

Ahora todo cobra sentido para los fans de Saviola.

Aun asi esta bestia caleidoscópica es relativamente pacífica y no ataca a menos que sea molestada. Debido a esto muchos lagartos kármicos han sido considerados deidades por diferentes civilizaciones alrededor del mundo. Muchas de estas comunidades han tratado de controlar el poder de los reptiles para ser usado contra sus enemigos, pero esto normalmente falla y a menudo afecta a los que pretendían usar sus poderes en un principio.

Dedicarle un hit de música pop no lo salvó de la perdición eterna

Por eso mis queridos compatriotas de la legión del mal, si hay algo que nos ha enseñado este noble y peligroso reptil es que las cosas hay que dejarlas donde van porque sino me agarra algo acá en el estómago que me sube que no se. Al pan pan y al vino vino, porque viejo son los trapos. Alfil tres caballo.

Back by popular demand, ladies and gentlemen

17 de septiembre del 2010 fue la última vez que me digné a escribir algo para este rincón de la internet en el que vomito estupidez e ideas. Realmente no hay una razón exacta por la cual dejé de escribir pero la verdad que mucho no importa, ya que, siendo sincero la única persona que lee estos posts soy yo luego de escribirlos y algún que otro infeliz. Mi vida sigue siendo mas o menos la misma que antes pero un poco mas organizada en ciertos aspectos. Con esto me refiero a que sigo sin laburo, basicamente porque de los 20mil lugares a los que envío curriculums solo me contestan 2 y son o una mierda o una mierda comparable con un campo de concentración vietnamita.

Don't you dare fuck around with him

Por otro lado me decidí a estudiar administración de hoteles el año que viene, en la UNQ. Las razones principales son que esa carrera siempre me llamó un poco la atención por asi decir, no se centra en el inglés (lo cual es importante ya que día a día mas gente sabe mas inglés lo cual hace que una carrera basada principalmente en ello pueda no ser tan remunerable como lo hubiese sido años atrás) y tendría un viaje de 15 minutos a la UNQ lo cual considero algo bastante importante. Soy una persona que ama su tiempo libre y estudiar traductorado en la facultad de abogacía hubiese implicado tres horas tiradas a la basura por día en viajes, cosa que me traumatiza a niveles jacknicholsonescos.

Honey, I'm home

Anduve llenando mi tiempo con diversos juegos durante estos meses. Jugué alrededor de 3 meses al Tibia (juego online que vengo jugando desde noviembre del 2004 el cual dejo de jugar por meses y cada tanto vuelvo) hasta que me pudrí como normalmente sucede y me retiré de nuevo. De hecho estaba sorprendido que había durado tanto pero por otra parte el juego se había tornado interesante (hubo guerra entre los bandos importantes del servidor que juego y participé y blahblah cosas que no entenderías, lector hipotético). Hoy en día, y ya desde hace un mes aproximadamente, ando jugando al DOTA (Defense of the Ancients). DOTA es un mapa customizado del juego de estrategia Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne, en el cual hay 2 equipos que constan de un máximo de 5 heroes (unidades principales del Warcraft III con habilidades especiales) cada uno y el objetivo es, con la ayuda de creeps (unidades normales, por asi decir), destruir la base del otro bando. Lo dejo ahi para no adentrarme tanto porque podría escribir bastante mas pero no tengo ganas. El juego en si es bastante divertido y lo que tiene de bueno a diferencia de un MMORPG es que no consume mucho tiempo. Las partidas duran entre media hora y una hora, a veces mas, a veces menos.
En otras noticias, mi vieja hace un poco mas de un mes tuvo, lo que me gusta llamar una crisis de mediana edad y trajo una perra a mi casa. Yep, si hubiese sido hombre compraba un convertible yo supongo. La perra, a la cual bautizaron Mía, tiene 7 años y es la perra mas tranquila y menos hincha pelotas que vi en mi vida. Ni siquiera ladra para que se den una idea. Bah, ladró un par de veces, pero lo hace rara vez. Y con rara vez me refiero a que hay días que ni siquiera ladra. No es muy grande pero tampoco es uno de esos perros de mierda que podrías patear y matar en un instante sin querer. Y bueno, nada eso, está ahi no molesta, boludea, que se yo, pudo ser peor.

Mucho peor.

Mas allá de lo que ya comenté la verdad que no hay nada nuevo, además de Ema siendo un mogólico del orto que no deja de hacer nuestras vidas (mía, la de Fede y la de Nico) miserables con su estupideces. La verdad que podría dedicarle doscientas entradas a cada una de las estupideces de Ema, pero creo que moriría de una ulcera perforante antes de terminar. Asi que recuerden chicos, baphomet manda.

el cuarteto no murió

Era 20 de agosto del 2006, estaba solo en mi departamento cuando entró un coreano a robar. Armado con una katana y solo vistiendo una gorra de Velez Sarsfield corrió hacia mi persona, al grito de 'godzilla godzilla, negro viene godzilla'. No quería robarme, quería advertirme. Godzilla venía en camino a Buenos Aires me dijo. No entendía muy bien porque corrió hacia mi de manera salvaje, con una katana, ni tampoco por qué estaba desnudo a excepción de su cabeza la cual vestía la mencionada gorra. Le pregunté si había consumido crack cortado con harina XXXX y respondió que los de la federal eran todos putos y luego me pegó un bife. 'Que te pasa coreano del orto?' le pregunté ligeramente furioso, a lo que respondió 'el super clásico papá, el super clásico. Mordeme o te quemo' y me apuntó con la katana. No se como pensaba 'quemarme' con un arma cortante pero al ver que me ofrecía el brazo y insistía con que mis dientes lo apretasen, me dejé llevar por el instinto de supervivencia y mordí su extremidad. Todo se oscureció. Vaya a saber uno cuanto tiempo después, desperté en una espesa jungla. Para mi sorpresa no llevaba ropas que conociese, sino que estaba vestido de papa noel, santa claus, san nicolás, o como le guste llamarlo, doña. En mi mano izquierda tenía un rifle AK-47 y en la derecha una pequeña bolsa de hielo, a los que se denomina popularmente 'rolito'. 'Che que loco esto, no entiendo nada' escuché venir de mis espaldas. Me di vuelta para ver nada mas ni nada menos que al mismísimo cadaver del Potro Rodrigo. 'Rodrigo? Que carajo está pasando?' pregunté convencido de que mi cordura había sido finalmente removida de la faz de la tierra. 'No se loco, andamo en la jungla del vietkong, eso e lo único que se papá' respondió con su característico acento cordobés. 'Bueno negro, vamos a caminar a ver si encontramos a alguien y vemos que onda, no entiendo nada' le dije y nos dispusimos a caminar. Al cabo de una hora aproximadamente, un grupo de asiáticos armados nos emboscaron y llevaron a su campamento. No dijeron ni una sola palabra mas allá de, lo que yo creo que fueron, ciertas advertencias. Hablaban un idioma que, hasta hoy en día, desconozco pero asumo que era vietnamita o algo similar. Su lider, a diferencia de ellos, tenía aspecto occidental. Cuando vió a mi acompañante, dijo 'potlo potlo, uste potlo lodligo?". "eh si amigo, todo bien?" respondió. "no te cleo, plobalo loko" le dijo el occidental con acento asiatico. "soy cordobés, me gusta el vino y la joda y lo tomo sin soda porque asi pega mas, pega mas pega mas, esssssa amigo, me pegué un re palo". Le conté mi historia al occidental y respondió que el coreano era un agente de la KGB que quizo robarles al zombie del Potro. Ellos lo habían revivido con tecnología atlante de antaño para deleitar a su lider, un narco americano. Cuando le pregunté si sabía que mierda hacía yo ahi, me respondió "no se, pelo agladece que no te mato pol estal vestido de ese simbolo capitalista de mielda, hijoeputa". En ese momento Rodrigo dijo "cereeeeeeeebros arhgrAHRAHGAR)G)))" y me mordió el brazo. Todo se oscureció. Desperté en mi habitación con Dave Grohl al lado cantando Hey, Johnny Park!