To ...

... all gawkers at accidents and misery: I hate you. With a fervent passion. Try to get some honest excitement in your life instead of having to hover over someone else's misfortune as if it's entertainment.

You bastards.

Right.

That said and done; Next!
We all need a little criticism. It's a goods thing. We all need a little praise. That too is a good thing. But I have a sneaking suspicion that too much of either makes us ineffectual and stale and inactive. So: don't judge others too harshly, too strongly or too blatantly. Certainly do not walk up to someone to tell them that they think too much of themselves. It's fucking rude. Certainly so if that person is really trying very hard indeed.

You bastards.

Again.

You know, I wouldn't be surprised at all if all people who are overly critical turn out to be gawkers at accidents. Uncaring, unfeeling, shit-for-brains.

/rant over.

Pointless ...

... information: if I try to type in the name 'Hilleke' in an SMS it throws up 'Gillelf'. A screaming elf. Well ... how convenient.

This ...

... just in: Satan does not use Friendster.

There is, however, a God on there. In the guise of a young man from Amsterdam.

That'll be all, folks.










http://www.friendster.com/

I don't use it. But if you're going to make a joke about it it's nice to link to it.

I would like some explanation, though. What is this current obsession with network sites ... Hyves, friendster, MySpace ... as far as I can tell it's just people ahving a few pics up maybe meeting poeple who never talk to them again and who call themselves 'friends' and then meeting people they have lost contact with over the years who therefore cannot be all that important because, you know, they LOST contact over the years.

Am I missing a point here?

besides. Some of the bastards whom I met on my trek through, for example, my schools I wouldn't want to see even a hint of a shadow from. Let alone add them as 'friend'.

What ho ...

... supposedly Santa Claus is no longer allowed to say 'Ho Ho Ho'. This is because Ho's are bad, I gather, in America. they should get better ones ... or, you know, a better mindset about the ones they already have. Plus, censorship of a fictional character is ludicrous to the extreme. Next thing you know they'll censor Donald Duck for being hard to understand and an affront to people with a speech problem.

Americans are bastards.

At work. Having cookies. And doing the occassional bit of work, even. Pretty soon I'll be ... alone ... so, currently I'm quietly enjoying the fact that this is the last week that I'm capable of actually shifting responsibilty and blame to other people. Oh well.

My darling father of 70 years old has accepted a temporary teaching job! He's going to join my girlfriend at her school for a period of five weeks due to a little misunderstanding that led to a position opening up for a few weeks. Now, he has 35 years of teaching experience so I'll trust that everything will be okay. I still wish him all the best, though. And give the assurance that we will visit bloody vengeance on any disrespectful youth who gets in his way. None shall stand before us, of those who think to harm my old man.

On a less vengefull note: it seems that Suusje gave this same speech to her own class and they were suitably impressed with her vehemence.

Still: nice that such an old man can finally manage to be gainfully employed and be a contributing factor in today's society and not only leech off the economy.

Updated the other one!

YAY!

http://beofauxto.blogspot.com/2007/11/finally.html

There also: The Bathroom Woodpecker!

I have had a nice evening with my family and I have finally received my grandfather's old watch. It's one of those old pocket-watches which one should fasten to your clothing by means of a chain. It's by now older than my granddad managed to become since he died way too early. You don't always get what you want. But I have his watch and I think it's a fabulous keep-sake. Something to remember him by.

Not that I really was in any danger of forgetting him.

This was a gentleman who, in the interbellum, a time of general discontent and crisis, protested against circumstances by laying Amsterdam's horse-drawn trams on their side with a couple of buddies.

How can you not love someone who managed THAT?