Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Podělusy vol. II

Heh. Teda řeknu vám, že pokud je vaše první asociace na štípání dřeva "Jarmark Marnosti" (napsal ho přeci pan "Sekery") , Hálkovy hry si připomínáte přes knížete pornofolku a místo tabletek pro řidiče TIRáků (zn. Confit) si nabízíte Machara (sb. Confiteor), tak to už vážně může znamenat jen dvě věci - buď to začínáte umět, nebo vám prostě jen hrabe.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

On Hiatus

(no real point of this pseudo Emil Holub here - i just love art. You know. Posh art. Really valuable, original art.)


From tomorrow its exactly 1 month (4 weeks) to the maturitas (or banana, but that's an inside joke)

I have this chart where i make stars that symbolize the amount of stuff i know from each question and so far this chart looks like a total wasteland. But I am off to Podělusy once again and I hope it will be as productive as the last time - I just gotta get more coffee somewhere on my way there. Lot of coffee. Oh yeah.

Basically I wanted to say I don't have time and I don't want to see anyone since he's going to teach me the EU structure or modern philosophy or avantgarde poets. It's not that I would be doing some serious study instead of possible hangouts with anyone. Um. I know I know, other people manage to study AND hang out with sexy mods AND take pictures AND be loved by all. Not me. Not me.

I have lots of things I want to do after the banana, so I swear I won't be this boring then.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

The Parisian Bum


Le clochard parisien
(or what kind of poetry can a person who's just seen the grammar rules of French for the first time produce)

je reste,
attendu que quelque advenira
et ensuite,
ouïs une haleine
-périodique et rapide-
ressentis le en mon gorge
est possible qu'le es tu
et je demande:
suis-je fou?
suis-je amoureux?
Et tu?
allons-y acheter une bouteille de vin
et faire l'amour toute la nuit

Friday, April 4, 2008

And after all, life is still worth living

I don't really have anything to say as far as verbal communication is concerned.



I just feel like lot of people care about things that are worthless in comparison to life itself, life which cost loads of slimey creatures their aquatic life when they were left on the land by high tide.

And the greatest art of all is the art of living.

And the art of limiting the number of clichés on one's blog.

Thanks July for her great pics from Podelusy where we had a very intensive geography weekend with oceans of coffee and litres of killer-hot korean noodles. I loved it.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

And the moral is:

Dating musicians is wrong.

At least that's what Control made me be sure of.


I know i may be a lil retarded, seeing it yesterday, but I really really wanted to see it on the big screen WITH someone who would enjoy. And - that happened! my friend Michal was tapping his fingers in the rhythm just as I did, not mentioning the moment when Love will tear us apart started. He laughs like awfully dubbed Dolph Lundgren in one of his 80s movies, which amuses me.