If you could only eat ONE cereal for the rest of your life, which one would you pick?
This just in from the I.M.C ( International Muesli Consortium):
*ehem*
"Fuck cereal."
I remember when I first moved to Helsinki, the one thing my mom would keep asking me for the first few months after having moved out was " you're not lonely, are you? Are you making any friends?". I'd keep telling her that, apart from knowing a lot of people already over there/here, " I'm good at mingling."
And I'm good at gathering information, as well.
Ask pretty much any of my friends, and most of them will tell you that the scary thing isn't if I'm aware of something, but if I actually haven't heard about something. I am, in no braggart's fashion, the man people come to verify info to, and the guy who's got most of the low-down. Even while in the military, I was the guy with detailed knowledge of anything from schedules to classified info - Hell, I'm good at gathering shit, and that trait goes around in the family.
There is, though, one thing that doesn't go around in the family: information. Whether it's because everyone's so into keeping their knowledge to themselves, we just assume everyone else knows, or because I live in this information no-fly-zone that is Helsinki, but anything, anything that goes down within the family is one big white spot on my map!
Case in point: apart from my sister, two of my cousins are expecting a new little floor crawler ( you might call them 'babies'), and they're both expected to plop out ( hey, you try to come up with a good term to explain somebody's... southern areas getting ripped to shreds) somewhere around December. This means women have been pregnant for about 3 months already...
I found this shit out yesterday, when my sister was telling me how my cousin's wife'd been throwing up like crazy for a month now and been practically remarried to an IV.
"Wow, that kinda sounds like she was-"
"She is pregnant."
And seriously, what's u with people getting pregnant all of a sudden? I mean, nobody's expecting anything like that from me, right?
If a girl you know wants to tell you about how her horse suddenly keeled over and died, it is apparently a faux pas to be eating slices of salami while she's talking about it.
But c'mon, at least it wasn't her Horsey. And I quite vehemently suppressed the urge to ask her what they were going to do with the carcass, which for me is quite a feat.
Speaking of dead horses, did you know that it's illegal to drag a dead horse down Yonge St. on a Sunday in Toronto?
In honor of Bastille Day, we'd like to know: What's your favorite thing to come out of France?
French kissing.
What?
Whenever I leave Helsinki to go hang out at my parents' place, there are usually two probable reasons for it:
- I need to get some work done.
- The parental unit's not there.
So when there suddenly came a situation when both criteria were fulfilled, I'd chipped out an empty spot out of my calendar like it was a chunk of marble on the statue of David's ass! I'd had this planned for months now: a few weeks alone, reading, studying, enjoying some good ol' privacy and exercising. God knows I love my "One room fits all"-apartment to death, but whatever it's missing, the parents have... And it's missing a gym and sauna.
I've been here for two (2) days now, and the absolutely maximum time I've left here now is, at best, 5 more days. From a few weeks to barely one. Wh-wh-why?
Hell, people don't call me that often - In fact, people don't call me. There's usually nothing I need to know about that I already don't know, there's often nothing worth telling me that I'm not already going to and there's just generally not that much going on that people ( correctly) think I'd care about. I like my privacy and that's that.
So hell gets loose on Friday, when I initially left for the Bastille. My phone, my mail - f**k, even facebook - has been going off like an overachieving hooker with people inviting me to all kinds of shindigs'n'shit. Birthdays, trips abroad, concerts, parties, meetings... heck, everything.
Don't get me wrong; I love to go to these venues even more than the next guy - but fair is fair, and I honestly need to work a bit! The way my calendar's filling up, I'm starting to wonder where I'll actually find the time to get some actual work done. I have courses, y'know, and perhaps now, during the summer, I might be able to read up those courses I actually failed last year? The latest three mails within the hour had me pretty much officially elected as a fully fledged member of the new Aalto University Student Council - which means I'm one out of 45 people pretty much single-handedly deciding how to spend 200-600 million €'s... And that just means more paperwork for me... And I'm not even the responsible type!
Damn it, at this rate, I might actually have to decline from some of these things! Whodathunk?
"Yo, where you at?"
"On a river boat with a friend back home, enjoying a beer."
"That's great, great... Hey, speaking of beer, y'know what country has a lot of it?"
"Germany?"
"100€: trains, planes and hotels. 4 nights, Oktoberfest 2009. You in?"
"Does the Pope shit in the woods?"
So, apparently, I'm going to Oktoberfest this year.
My friends at school are Awesome with a capital A ( and sometimes an apostrophe)... but they're completely f**king mental when it comes to impulsive, erratic behavior like this - which, in part, is why they're so Awe'some.
And hey, it's not like anything too bad is gonna happen, anyway? I mean, we survived S:t Pete's in January*!
Also, I know I have a really bad sense of humor, but this made my day. If you're offended by it, go grow yourself a sense of irony.
*If anyone brings the camera up, you're off the Christmas-card list.
First off, let me explain:
I originally started blogging because of an incessant need to write: I just like writing every now and then. And I like writing stupid stuff, so going out on the 'net is a simple enough thing to do. You write, someone might read. More importantly, if all went well, at some later point in life I could trace my steps backwards through a multitude of useless posts about random stuff which not even I think is important.
And maybe someone'd get a few laughs out of it... or me, which is fine, I like being a laughingstock every now and then.
Actually, I don't really care who reads these ( if anyone does, whoa!); this is just a good way to air out the 'stupid' a bit so I'd act a little more mature in real life.
So it's all in good fun.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago, though, that I started to read through my old posts and, well...
... Seriously, I must seem like such a douche!
This is where I'd like to state my formal apology to you all:
I hope you all get to know me well in real life instead of via this blog because I'm a much more convincing douche bag face to face. And we're still gonna keep on going strong!
Also, it's like 34°C inside since the AC's out, so it'll be a slalom-ride through hell before I start coding in here instead of checking out G-Tie.
Since I actually took the time to mention that Michael Jackson's dead, I guess I'm obligated to comment on this as well.
OK, so I'm evidently gonna end up being an uncle.
End of comment. There's nothing to see here anymore, now get a move on. This was the official Pregnancy Post and I'm not gonna comment on it until something's actually come out of... there.
( Oh God, I can't believe those genes are actually gonna get passed down!)
