I never really got into poetry slam so far. I always sounded too unliterary to me. I am really used to books and I clearly attribute to myself to have some kinde of taste in literature, which is quite normal being confronted with those classics. Slame poetry always seemed to ignore those achievements, the audience seldom gives the impresson of being interested in deeper things. But for many this kind of subjective distinction is wrong. They refer to the subjective taste wherein everyone is the one to judge.
Doing so we have to admit poetry slam on stage is amusing and it often ignites a spark to listeners:
But there’s some danger. Sometimes that spark lits a fire and listeners get to the point where they want to interpret things out of their periphery in metaphorical terms.
Keep those guys off the stage!
Men are known to be quite quickly in bath. There’s not much to do for them when there’s no radio on or no newspaper to study. They do fun on women as they these tend to spend more than 10 minutes with pimping themselves up. What for?
There’s no need for men to use the bathroom as a working place the way they use garages for their cars. Cars are for pimping. Not male bodies.
That’s way in a man’s world the bathroom is man’s place to rest. To be alone. To concentrate. To do some philosophy.
And any little disturbance is a pain in the …
Having friends is one of the finest things a man can have. You can have victories, but those need to be celebrated with friends to become real victories. Sometimes you need a friend just to remind you of celebrating life:
Party on, Garth! - Party on, Wayne!
There’s a vitality in having and being a friend that’s very much different from just knowing people.
On the other hand: Friends accept your strangest characteristics. Friends do see your inner nature even when your life seems to be a mess to yourself.
That’s what friends are for.
Some people are quite attentive what goes on in their environment. This is a fine behaviour whenever you’re in need of someone to recognize you’re feeling bad or you’re want to utter something important. But getting too used to that kind of behaviour can make a freak out of you. Sometimes you should special things better let go. There’s no win in observing them over a longer period of time. And it’s not worth telling:
[engl. Thin walls within this hotel: Someone just farted next door. Haven’t heard it, but I can smell it. #semipermeable]
But pr_ip is not the only one to register farts nearby. And it’s not only humans that farts are worth talking about. There’s an Office Chair informing twitter about the outcome of its seaters:
Women quite often think sex is an easy game for guys. Just take your equipment and start the game whenever you like to. And guys like that game more than it is good for them. Why else are there so many sites in the internet with films to get started on?
That’s an easy argumentation. As a guy it’s difficult to prove you’re not someone that works as simple as that. But reality is different. And guys do know that. Sex for guys is not simply a hedonistic walk in the park.
This is a game with a dark side.
So, if you do not have a clue how it is to get into a deeper conflict with sexual organs immediatly after having fun, who are you to judge?
Language is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s more than words and sometimes you can’t tell exactly what that actually means. That’s why people once tried to build up a way of scientific speech. But that failed. Words aren’t made to be laid in chains.
So we have to tolerate linguistic things which are hard to understand and deal with the risk to be irritated by speakers that talk vaguely on purpose.
Still, the problem of talking vaguely gets to another level when it’s done by women. Whereas men use ambiguities for jokes, women use it for irritations:
Or am I the only one not knowing right from the start, what “the first O” is?
Two weeks ago Perez Hilton informed us that Lindsay Lohan tries to solve her problems with her former girlfriend Samatha Ronson via twitter. This was in a way absolutely gossip, but after having had a star in our spotlight three week ago, it raises the question: In what way do stars use twitter?
As Lindsay Lohan tells us, she uses twitter in revenge to Ronson and her friends using People magazin to talk about Lohan. So this is in a way a strategie to guide gossip yourself.
For actors, singers, comedians and other stars twitter’s not a platform for art. It’s merely a reaction to public interest. And maybe they can prevail the yellow press from getting too much into their lifes by presenting deep sights into it themselves. Who could say if that information was true or false? Who would be interested in stories of the yellow press as he or she has read it on twitter already?
Maybe Jonathan Knight was trying to follow the same idea as he wrote:
… or distressingly he wasn’t. Hopefully no one that heard the rumors in Knight’s bathroom that night took the sound for a new New Kids On The Block song.
Easter is the time for tradition. Two days of familyship, going to the church, listening to that Jesus comeback tour, standing round the Easter fire and searching for the Easter bunny.
But whereas Christmas attracts people with the giving and getting gifts game, Easter is rather restrained. The thought Easter stands for is much more idealistic. It might be even harder to worship that thought, which could be the Pope’s reason to ask for peace every year.
So why not break up with traditions if new rituals turn out to represent your worship much better? Easter seems to stand for something good, so not replacing it with anything wouldn’t be very rational.
This must have been Schlenzalot’s intention before stating:
[Just coloured eggs (testicles?). Colour’s itching a bit.]
There are very many fakes in twitter. Believe me, I know, I got some of them myself. But when it comes to sexuality it’s getting harder to identify fakes and distinguish them from real people or people trying to earn money with sex in the internet.
I’m telling you this because fuckhunter, the person I’m going to deal with this week, could be a fake. Anyhow you’ll just get a glimps of his life and this has to deal with sexuality, because that’s his main topic on twitter. I do not feel provoked by the things he tweets and I think there’s a tendency to provoke if you have a twitter fake.
So on the one hand fuckhunter is a fake that does not follow the tendencies other fakes on twitter have. Or he’s not a fake. Anyhow I do believe there are guys like that twitter person. So let’s have a look at what he says:
(engl. Now I’m going to wank on any bitch on the internet.)
This is quite good for a start on fuckhunter. Searching for an anonymous person for sex in the internet, whether it’s a picture, a small video or someone on the phone, happens every day, every hour. And done by more people around you than you think.
But that’s not the only area where fuckhunter searches for sex:
(engl.: I fucked for 180€ this month. Although yesterday’s fuck was shit. You can’t call it a fuck anyhow, cause I wanked myself.)
There are a lot of websites where punters of prostitutes tell each other what prostitude does what and where she’s standing. In a way this tweet is just a transformation of that sort of utterances from those sites into twitter. Fuckhunter tells all this in a very unemotional way: He’s not angry about having spent 180€ on hookers and he doesn’t see the personalities in them. This is not necessary, but it won’t fulfull you, not in the tiniest sense:
(engl.: And so the fuckhunter wanks daily. A sad story…)
If that is what you think of and do most of the time: Absolutely. Sometimes the hunter becomes the hunted.
There’s something about hookers. And you can think of that in any way you like. Hookers have always been special social figures. People thought of their job as an unworthy thing to do. But prostitution has also continuously been a contrast to ordinary people’s life — even if it was for some people clearly integrated into their lives. So I guess it’s good to think about one’s own position towards hookers and prostitution. ParriFin does it this way:
The first question is: How much yoghurt did ParriFin spill on herself? And where? It seems to be more than a tiny drop on your shirt. And it was definetly enough to grab the thought of comparing it with a hooker’s job.
I never thought that hookers are training with yoghurts to avoid getting too much puddles of sperm on their clothes. Most of them can handle it now, so that only overeagered hookers cock up their clothes.
But I think for them it’s a kind of proof of their professionalism. And shurely there are many hookers with wardrobes full of shirts of evidence. Like those goblets on the shelf in the living-rooms of ordinary people.