Browsing through various nodes I guess this could be a node having a node title of its own but since I recognize that the laughing stock will rather be my inability to write in a funny way than contents of a node I decided only to offer you day log titled

A real life nightmare at room 21 - a gangbang that kept me awake
4.40AM. I had an interesting dream to watch. Don't blame me but that's all I can tell about it. My another roommate (I live with my brother and a third guy - cool name for him, by the way: Third Guy), now Third Guy, comes in with his friend and a chick with an irritating voice. The door slams shut and I wake up. That's why I have to gossip about them and not to write yet another dream log. Our walls are not thin but a soundproofing is virtually nonexisting. I can't help but hear their conversation. Had they come to chat with me I would have guided them to chat with my sneakers instead. Probably my sneakers would have kicked their asses if the debate had treated any logical topic. But it would have not. The score was quite simple: To get laid. Both of them wanted inside the pants of that bitch. Coming over at this time of night gives you believe that you can believe she'll give. And so it happened.
I have to note that trying to talk bitches over is not something my roommate is not experienced in. I'm not that sure about results though. The very best example was 15 minutes spent in a mobile trying to persuade a bitch who just dumped him. And thinking what is just happening I'm not sure he was underestimating the bitch that time. Or who knows if that chick enjoyed hearing a whining wanker.

4.52AM. Third Guy was ready with Bitch and immediately after he had come he gives a ring to his friend: "Can't talk right now but come here and hurry up." So that's something a friendship is really all about: You have a chick in your bed and the first thing after your ejaculation is to phone a friend - a prejuiced, warm pussy is waiting.

5.08AM. The Friend has done his job. All three guys sit(?) there and Bitch is waffling on. Three guys in less than 20 minutes, ignoring the delay of Friend, gives you right to be a bitch. Gives you ultimately right to tell them whatever you feel like. Same rules apply. I couldn't hear this bit properly due to earplugs but I guess the guys were thinking something like Ice Cube in Bitch Iz a Bitch, had they heard the song.

6.30AM. I wake up as the alarm goes on. And guess once who's making the running. A chance to meet Bitch intrigues me a bit but I decide against slipping into shorts. It's time for the morning run and I don't have time to wind up Bitch nor Friend who's calling a cab. Bitch departs before I have taken my daily pills of magnesium and multivitamines. The guys rest in peace when I take my sneakers and hit the road.

7.19AM. Back home I find the guys still asleep. Deserved. A quick shower and a sportsmanlike breakfast. Brother wakes up for the university and I ask if he heard anything. Says he didn't. It's another day of boring work ahead.

3.46PM. I spend my last minutes of work noding. Today I had to install a virus scanner and chase viruses which took the whole day and I did my job less half-assed than usually. The job description is quite different: A master thesis on risk communication. A different day, not as bad it may sound but.

Still to come:

7PM about. Like yesterday, today is a day for a long steady running. The weather is very nice although I was prepared it could be raining. I think I have a run in a forest preventing me to speed up too much.

Later I have to read a book handed me by a mate here at work. It's about noncommunication titled "Missing messages", in my native Finnish. Finally, the hell of the day will be reinstalling Win95 or trying to make Win98 network adapter work. The latter task seems desperate. Or maybe I give up do something more relaxed shite like designing a t-shirt featuring Pikachu.
Good night, I hope.

You know, I think I have finally started to close in on something that has been bothering me for years, but I just haven't been able to put into words. (One of the many things, anyhow.) There seem to be so many good people in the world (good!=nice), and there seem to be a huge amount of nice people, to boot. But, why, then, is the world in such sad shape? The only conclusion I can come to is that people are more likely to be kind to people after they get to know one another. It's rather depressing. It's probably one of the reasons I find myself crying so much. I haven't felt like this in a while, and I hope it goes away soon. I'm sure it will. I know it will. I guess I'm glad that it doesn't ever go away for good, though, because if it did, who else would be concerned? I mean, how could I _know_ the concern was alive?

I need to busy myself.

"I'm onna hiiiiwaaaaay to HED!"

Kylie is a headbanger. She's also six years old. You haven't lived 'til you've driven around suburban Columbus with a little girl whose absolute most favoritest bands in the world are AC/DC and Black Sabbath, and she's singing along to the tunes on her Discman at the top of her lungs. Only she doesn't understand the lyrics, so "Highway to Hell" sounds like:

"I'm onna hiiiiwaaaaay to HED!"

Her uncle and I try hard not to laugh. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. I can only imagine that, to her, "Hed" must be a truly magical land where the great and powerful Ozzy benevolently rules over the Black Diamond city. Angus Young is the Tin Man, Alice Cooper is the Scarecrow, James Hetfield is the Cowardly Lion, and the flying monkeys all go "Oi! Oi! Oi!"

Kylie switches to Sabbath. Her 10-year-old brother Eric wants the Discman for himself, but it's not time for his turn yet.

"If you listen to that song, you'll get paranoid," he warns her.

This inexplicably delights Kylie. "I'm par'noid, I'm par'noid!" she chants.

Then she stops and taps her uncle on the shoulder. "Hey, Unca Gary, what's par'noid mean?"

Her uncle and I completely lose it. I'm laughing so hard I almost have to pull over. But fortunately the movie theater is just around the corner.

We park, and head in to see something far more horrifying than any Alice Cooper concert: Scooby-Doo.

And while Scooby-Doo is certainly not the worst movie I've ever seen in a theater, I'm twitching by the time it's over. But then, I'm not in its target demographic: Eric and Kylie are. And they, along with all the other young kids in the audience, cheer wildly for the 87 minutes of this prime example of Short Attention Span Theater. Matthew Lillard and Linda Cardellini are spot-on as Shaggy and Velma, but Rowan Atkinson is sadly underused as Mondavarious.

And as for the CGI Scrappy-Doo ... oi. I wanted to bang my head.

My first ever DeadJournal entry. I was so proud. I received three positive comments from people I know (except for mollusc who saw fit to rebuke me because I'd committed the ultimate sin of using spelling and grammar).

My First DeadJournal Entry

Yes, I know. Not very original title. But it's practical and at this point in my journal writing (ie. the beginning), I don't really need to go overboard with the crazy creativity. Plenty of time for that later on.

It's official - Wednesday is indeed the crappiest day of my week. Not only is it right smack bang in the middle of the week, but I have a full day of lessons and none of them are fun. Which sucks no end, let me tell you. But the good news is that it's over now and now I'm in the school's computer lab listening to MP3s, noding on Everything2 and chatting with people back home.

Sometimes I miss people back home in Australia, mostly because they're so far away from me and I can't just call them or drop over to their house and chat. Sometimes it's hard to deal with that fact and other days it's OK, it's something you can handle. Just talked to Mike today, which has lifted my spirits a bit. It's actually really nice just to know people are alive back home, even if you don't learn much about what's going on. It gives you reassurance that your home is still there and will still be there when you get back. A good feeling, indeed.

One thing that does irritate me is that some people haven't sent me any emails for a while. Some, in fact, haven't sent any all year. Now, I can understand if they're busy but it's been nearly 8 months since I left. Surely they'd be able to find one day in eight months to send a quick email about how things are going? Honestly...

And then there's the fact that Sony have introduced a shiny new 10th anniversary MiniDisc recorder for November. Just as I'm going to buy the MZ-N1. Talk about crappy timing. But I'm going to buy it anyway because I'm sick of waiting, if I wait any longer my birthday present will become my Christmas present and I can always buy the future kick-arse model when I'm done with this one. Sorted.

Anyway, I don't really have anything else important or interesting at this time, so that's my lot for today. Got half a day tomorrow and I'm meeting Steve in the afternoon. Sweet.

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