Saturday, December 29, 2012

Personal Problems

how to make a gif

* Her: “I can't talk to some guy without him trying to fuck me at some point. “
Him: “ I can't fuck a woman without her falling in love with me at some point.”
Her: “ I mean: Can't we just talk without sex? “
Him: “ I mean: Can't we just have sex without talk? “
Her: “ Pffff ...”
Him: “ Pffff ... “

 * Miriam and Jacob were having intercourse for half an hour already.
 - Jacob! Jacob! Stop! ... Jacob, stop!
- Yes, what's wrong?
- Aren't you going to make love?
- Yes, let me just fuck you a little bit more.

*  Dorian and Maggie were having intercourse for 15 minutes.
 - Hmmm, Dorian, tell me something really nasty!
- ...
- Come on, Dorian!
- ... Saddam Hussein?!

Once upon a time there was the most beautiful girl in the world who loved catching butterflies. She was catching them all the time: at home, at school, on the street or in her sleep so she didn't notice Billy's deep love for her.
He tried every day to get her attention by bringing her flowers, chocolates, jewelry and writing love poems and essays but she was way to busy following her butterflies.
Years passed and Billy gave up on the idea of having her. It was winter and he was walking alone down the alee thinking:
What was I thinking? How could I even dream about a girl like that. Of course she didn't want me, of course she didn't want anyone. “Nothing” is closer to perfection that any human being.”
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a timid crystalline voice. It was her.
- Billy, hey! Listen, I noticed you noticing me and I was wondering ... well ... would you like to fuck?
- Oh, hell yeah!

                                                                - The end - 

Friday, December 28, 2012

An I for an I

I tried to be as productive as possible before the end of the year when I am going to move and who knows how the internet is going to work ( in the happy case that is going to work ).
So there you have a series of self portraits that I've been working on to try and experiment different lenses, photo techniques and emotions. In the end I might say that this experience was the beginning of a beautiful friendship between me and the pinhole. I love love it!
And I say let it be experimental!

                                           
                                                               Sony Nex-6- 50mm lens

                                                             Sony Nex-6, 12mm lens      
                                         
                                                               Sony Nex-6, pinhole
           

                                                      Canon EOS 6D, 40mm lens


                                                             Sony Nex-6,16mm-55mm lens


Sony Nex-6, 50mm lens


                                                                 Sony Nex-6, pinhole


                                                              Canon EOS 6D, 40mm lens


                                                         Sony Nex-6, 16mm-55mm lens

Thursday, December 27, 2012

End Of The (Y)Ear Compilation

My last compilation on this year playing some of the songs I really like and not just what I think you might like.
Have fun and don't forget to get drunk!


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

A Christmas Story

It was the first day of Christmas. I was praying.

Knock-knock-knock we are knocking at your door”
Hmmm, It cannot be anyone else except for christmas carolers or some myriapod.
Knock-knock-knock we are knocking at your door”
I ended my prayer, opened the door and found myself standing before a family of foxes.
Good afternoon, miss.
- Good afternoon.
- As you can see we are the Foxes. I am George Fox, this is my wife Adriana and our son Benjamin. Two days ago we moved in the apartment next door. Being Christmas and all we thought that it would be nice to come here and personally wish you a merry Christmas. So, Merry Christmas, miss ...
- Ada.
- Ada, pleased to meet you.
- Me too. Merry Christmas to you too, lots of happiness, health and welcome to the building.
- Mr. Fox was staring at me and I didn't know what to do. Al three of them were just standing there in front of my door. What was I supposed to do in such a situation? Close the door in the face of a decent fox  family ... on Christmas?
- Oh, would you like to come in?
- Yes, thank you. Said Mr. Fox and all three entered the house, washed their hands and sat down at the table.
Mrs. Fox came to the kitchen to help me prepare the dinner. When she got close to me I was immediately struck by her smell of spring and cinnamon. This took me totally by surprise, I was blocked, shocked and almost fainted.
Are you alright, Ada?
- Yes, yes, thank you. Problems with calcium, you know, I don't feed myself as I should.
- But that's not good at all.
 And she came even closer to me to help me get back on my feet. Her smell struck me again.
- I'm fine, I'm fine. Please, could you be so nice and take these plates to the table?
- Yes, sure.
- Thank you!
I was left in the kitchen together with her smell of spring and cinnamon and I could see her in my mind how she brushes her fur in the morning, how she puts on her make up, how she walks, talks, thinks ... all her life was passing before my eyes. I was totally charmed,  Everything was about to change for me. I knew what I had to do.
I came to the table, sat down and looked Adriana straight in the eyes.
What is going o ....
- What Mr. Fox? What were you trying to say? Oh, did I cut your head of? I'm so sorry that I won't hear that super interesting thing that you were about to say. Maybe next time ( Hahaha ).
- Adriana smiled at me and told me with her sweet voice:
- The turkey is excellent, miss.
-Thank you. I never eat pork. Not even on Christmas. I consider it a filthy animal. 
Benjamin was crying on his sear looking at his dead chopped of head.
- Benjamin, you don't cry, my darling. Life is tough, you need to be strong and learn that these things happen. Now, come on, sing a carol for us to get back into the celebration mood.
Benjamin wiped his tears and began to sing.
“ Jingle bells, Jingle bells. Jingle all the waaaaay .....
Zbbbuuuuufffffff !!!! A bullet struck little Benjamin's head and I swear it wasn't me. Really! I don't even have a gun. There couldn't be anyone else than ... my warrior fox.
I hate that song.Some imagination for Christ sake.  
 Said she smiling.
Then she and sat on my lap. With her little sweet paws touched my face, my waste, my hips and I was getting drunk of her spring cinnamon smell.
- Oh, I should put some music, no?


Friday, December 21, 2012

Mute Witness (Experiments I- Shoot & Style)

Self portait through pinhole

Hello, Do I know you from somewhere?


I could explain, but you would't understand. Is just too deep. 

pOp Serge

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Undercover Compilation


“If I may generalize, art—any art—constantly refreshes itself, because artists are making new statements that come out of their times and their reactions to their times. Ultimately, I feel it is not the newness that we prize, but the freshness of vision. When that truly exists, the newness, the strangeness, gradually falls away, as it has in the works of Brahms and Picasso, and we are responding to an artist's statement and not his technique.”- Arthur Knight

Make sure you are well covered, is cold outside!

Monday, December 17, 2012

The Story of Pony Son


Somewhere in a far away town in the mountains lived the Pony Family : Pony Dad, Pony Mom and Pony Son. They lived together in peace and harmony, nobody disturbed them except for Marion, the nosy goat who came regularly at their door to “ check up on what's new “ and find excuses to go everywhere around the house, but Pony Mom tolerated her since she was the only neighbor around and so they could help each other in times of need.
 One Sunday after lunch the Pony family went out for their usual walk. On their way they met Patsy the Squirrel, a school mate of Pony Son. She stopped and said respectfully:
 - Hello Pony Mother, Pony Father ... Pony Son.
 - Hello, Patsy! How are you? Said Pony Mom. But Patsy couldn't take her eyes of Pony Son. She looked so deep in his eyes that he blushed, looked the other way and went on for the walk.


The second day they were having math exam at school. Pony Son was never good at math and this exam was his last chance not to fail the semester again. Patsy knew it so she went to him and told him:
 - Hey! You can sit with me during the exam. I'l let you copy from me if you want.
 - Really?! That would be so cool, but ...
 - What?
 - What if the exam will be by numbers?
 - If it will be by numbers I will solve your exercises on a separate paper and give it to you.
 - Ok, that's cool.
So they sat together at the exam which luckily wasn't given by numbers so he could copy everything from Patsy.
After class Pony Son went on his way home confident and enthusiastic discreetly accompanied by Patsy.
 Suddenly:
 - You know, Pony Son, I've been thinking a lot these days and I came to the conclusion that I begun to see things differently, more mature. All the boys around me behave like children. I think it's time for me to have a bigger ... friend.
 - Mhm.
 - ... Who knows what he wants in life. Someone big, decided, powerful, sometimes funny, quiet, but not anti social, do you know what I mean?
 - Mmmm... I guess.
 - See? That's exactly what I like about you: you don't talk like a broken record player and uncertainty doesn't bother you at all. Yesterday I was talking to Miriam the Goose. We were just chatting, you know, girl talk about the boys in the school and I told her that I see a certain kind of wisdom in your eyes that I never saw on any other boy. She said that that's not wisdom, is just plain imbecility, but I think she's wrong, isn't she?
 - Well, thank you for ...
 - So, now that we are together and we are thinking of starting a relationship, you should know that I can't stand lies, ok ? If you have something to say to me, you should say it to my face! I want the whole truth and nothing but the truth, alright?
 - Aaah, ok, but I didn't ...
 - Ok, is good that we understand each other. Look, I live right there behind that hill. Come, take me home!
 - Ah, alright.
 Arrived in front  of Patsy's house she made a big jump and gave Pony a quick kiss.
 - Ok, so be here tomorrow at 8:00 AM to pick me up for school.
 - 8:00 AM? But I wake up at 8:30.
 - Well, relationships aren't just fun and games, they also mean responsibility and compromise. Waking up earlier won't kill you. So don't be late! I have to go now. Bye!
 - ... Bye Bye!

 On his way home the Pony Son seemed restless, totally absorbed by thoughts
. “ Where could I possibly forget my eraser?”

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Attitude Exercise Compilation


“The rebel fills an important function in that he helps to keep society mobile, challenges or upsets the status quo and always by his example promulgates the notion that there are alternatives.”

Here's my freshly backed compilation in the honor of our Great Golden Age Of Nothing . Don't forget to eat your lunch and cause some trouble!


Monday, December 10, 2012

The Young and The Breastless

17th of June 2011, 08:30 AM. This morning I got up with the very precise desire of measuring the distance between my nipples. The result:
 - Sorry, it's only me. Said my right breast timidly.
 - Holly crap! I hastened to the mirror to look at myself. The image was terrifying. I slapped myself in the face several times praying for this to be just a dream, but each time I opened my eyes I ran into the same image: me possessing only my right breast. There was no wound on the left side, no sign or bruise, the left breast was just missing like it had never been there.
 - I tried to stop her, but she was like brain washed. You can't reason with this kind of breasts when they are in such a state.
 “ Rewinding the latest events I draw three conclusions: I am not dreaming, my left breast is missing and my right breast keeps on telling me things. Now what am I suppose to do? Answer back? ... “
 - Yes, answer! Of course that this is what you suppose to do. See? This is exactly why she left. You don't take us seriously at all, you think we are just some ... heartless breasts. Well, we have souls too, you know and ...
 - Well, excuse ME for feeling confused and overwhelmed, but when I fell asleep I had two quiet, nice breasts and now I woke up to find one talking and one missing. Am I suppose to take it light? Really?
 - It is an entire movement, the whole town is screwed. Turn on the TV. Check for yourself!

 “ Breaking news, ladies and gentlemen! What yesterday seemed to be every man's dream, today turned into a nightmare. Legions of furious gigantic breasts turned their ... backs(?) on their masters and invaded the whole town of Aatcha. They are complaining about constant abuse, lack of support and consideration from their possessors and their mates. Their leader declared that the revolution won't stop until the authorities will put the silicone surgeries and the push-up bras out of law. We warn you that the breasts are furious, aggressive and they attack all people regardless gender, skin color or religion so DO NOT go out. We'll be back with more news. Until then we are on the phone with the breast anthropologist Malena Richards. Tell us, Mrs. Richards, what is going on with the breasts in our town? How did they come to life, can you explain?
 - Hello and thank you for the call. Nobody called me in years except for the kids who make breast jokes on the phone. Hahaha, so funny! The fact is, my dear, that breasts have always been very intelligent creatures and had a very close relationship with their possessors since ancient times. As times changed women fell apart from their breasts, didn't listen to them anymore so they stopped communicating. With all the abuses from the latest years I have to admit that I saw this coming and ...”
 I turned off the TV, lighted up a cigarette and sat down to think things through.
- Abuse? Silicone? I never abused her, I don't have any silicone and I hate push-ups. She had no reason to leave like this.
- She said that she didn't feel loved anymore. She was depressed for months and before she left said that she preferred being alone by herself than alone together with you. So when this movement started she saw it like some kind of salvation and went away with it. She tried to convince me to come, but I didn't want to. “ I think this revolution of yours is going to end up in tears. “ I said. “ Besides, she didn't do anything wrong. Don't be stupid!”, but she didn't want to listen so she called me a “ fuckin' traitor” and left.
- Ok, We're gonna have to go after her. We will find her, apologize, do whatever is necessary to bring her back.
 - Go there? No way! Didn't you see what they are doing? They're like savages.
 - And what do you suggest? Stay home like this, handicapped, mutilated like some kind of creature?! No way, we're going!
 I washed my face, put on some comfortable clothes and got out the door.
 The atmosphere on the streets was wild indeed. Breasts were everywhere. Some gigantic, some normal size with small feet and arms. I didn't know until now that breast can develop such features. After burning all the plastic surgery clinics and cheap underwear shops they began vandalizing the dairy and the liqueur stores so the streets were full of broken beer, whiskey and milk bottles and there was a general stank of alcohol in the air.
 - Help! Please, somebody help! Yelled a young reporter who was getting raped by two big brown nippled breasts.
- So, you like to take pictures, don't you? Well photograph this, sucker! And both breasts began to suck the reporter's blood until he remained unconscious on the sidewalk.
My astonishment was suddenly interrupted by some great noises which came from around the corner so I cautiously got closer to see what was happening. A big stretch marked old breasts was yelling from the top of his ... lungs(?) to his faithful revolutionaries.
- The day that we've all been waiting for is finally here! This is our day and we are not going anywhere until JUSTICE IS DONE!
- Yeeeeeaaaah!
 Screamed the delirious crowd with whiskey bottles in their hands and milk whiskers around their nipples.
 - We won't rest until they will put the silicone surgeries out of law!
 - Yeeeeeeah!
- Until they will put the push-up bras out of the markets!
- Yeaaaaaaaah! ( burp! )
- Until they take us SERIOUSLY!
- YEEEAAAAH!
- The time has come for us TO TAKE OVER THIS TOWN!
I turned to my right breast and ask her:
 - How is possible for them to become human size?
- See the milk bottles? Milk keeps them growing, but it seems like cow milk has a weird effect on their brain. It makes them ... kinda stupid and imagine all that in combination with alcohol. Horror!
- Do you see Leftie anywhere around here?
 - What? You don't even know how your own breast looks like?
- Well, there are so many, I don't even know where to look first. Please, we have no time for this now. Do you see her or not?
- I don't know, I don't see anything right now. Let me out!
I unzipped my shirt and let my breast out to look.
 - Mmmmmm ... No, she's not here.
- Are you sure?
- Definitely yes! She's not here.
- Shit!
I took a look at the breast gathering which seemed more determined, more drunk and more aggressive. They were raping people, raping each other , humiliating and laughing at poor crying breastless women.
- Ok, the situation is getting worse. We should get out of here.
 I took advantage of the hot atmosphere and hit straight to the gun store.
 - What are we doing here? You are not going to shoot any breasts, aren't you?
 - Well, considering the way the things are going we should be ready for anything, besides, I always wanted a gun so why shouldn't I get some satisfaction and joy out of this mess? Look, there's nobody here.
 - As you wish.
I took all the guns which looked promising and damaging, filled my bag with bullets and got out.
- Hey, beautiful! Just where do you think you're going?
I stopped and turned my head to see one small firm pink-nippled followed by a giant big brown-nippled breast. The small one approached me and did the talking.
 - In case you didn't know we own this town now this gun store belongs to us. I think you just stole some things from inside. To make a long story short, you owe us some money.
I felt the blood going straight to my head.
- Oh, really? Excuse me, I didn't know that. Said I grabbing them both by the nipples.
 - Ouch! Ouch! Let go, you bitch or you'll be sorry!
- How did you call me?
Said I squeezing  them even harder.
- Tell me, do you know why is not recommended for unarmed ... breasts to mess with armed people? Twisting them:
 - Hmmm? Answer me! Do you know why?
- B...b...bbbecause they might get killed?!
Said the big brown-nippled shaking from all his joints.
- Correct! Because they might get killed. And do you know what a dead breast is good for?... DO YOU?!
 - N..n..n..no.
- A dead breast is good for nothing. So, thinking of my poor sisters who must be crying after you I will spare your lives. Go home to your mothers and cut the crap, understood? - ..... - UNDERSTOOD?!
 - Yes, m'am! Yes!
- Ok, go now! And if I see your sorry nipples one more time I'm really gonna fuck you up!
- Yes! Yes! Said both of them while they were running away like crazy.
- Hahaha, look at them running! Chickeeeens! Well, I must admit you handled the situation pretty good. I didn't know that you can be so gansta'.
 - Me? I am the mother of gansta', biatch!
 The laughter didn't last long ( like most of the good things in my life ) because after we turned the corner, a big gang of nasty looking breasts led by the two punks I just met cut our way.
 - There she is! That's the bitch who stole from us and squeezed our nipples! The gang surrounded me and took all my weapons.
 The stretch marked breast leader came forward:
- So, I guess you underestimated us, hm? You are not the only one, but you were the most aggressive and so we will use you as an example. She slapped me in the face.
- Tell me, why didn't you give the money to my friends? I'll tell you why: “ I won't give money to a pair of breasts!” Is this what you thought? “ I rather humiliate them and squeeze their nipples than giving them what is theirs” (Slap!) Is THAT what you thought? The payment time has come, what do you think about that ... biatch?!
 - In the first place I think that you should stay away from me. Your stank of alcohol is so bad that it makes me sick.
- Enough! Take her!
 Said she to his army and they took me in front of the government  building where all the press was taking pictures and filming us while the breast leader was preparing his megaphone and then spoke:
 - Attention, nation! Look, we've got a hostage now! Unless you don't want the stains of her blood on your hands you will do the following: put the silicone surgery and the push up bras against the law, give us the money that the girl owes us which is ... 5000 aatchis and resign. If not she will be dead by noon ...
I felt a vibration in my pocket and I heard my telephone ring.
 - Hmmm ... hello?!
- Hey, is Beth. Honey, I saw on TV that those bastards took you hostage and I got so worried about you. Are you ok? - ..... - Hello!
- Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of question is that? Yes, I am ok! I am having the time of my life! Is there anything else you would like to know?
- Listen, I'm getting pretty sick of this smart superior attitude of yours. I was nice and I called you with the best intentions and I won't allow you to use this tone with me anymore, understood? Goodbye! ( Zbufff! )
 In the meantime a reporter was talking to the camera:
 - Ladies and gentleman, the prime minister's spokesman is coming at the gates to communicate with the breast leader. We will stream live the prime minister's answer to the breasts requests.
 The prime minister came close to the gates and spoke through them.
 - Hello ladies, gentlemen, honored breasts! After 10 long minutes of debates, we decided that the best decision for the greater good of Aatcha is not to negotiate with terrorists so we won't fulfill your requests. You are free to kill the hostage!
 The spokesman turned his back leaving behind an army of furious drunk noisy breasts and a frozen by astonishment single breasted girl.
 “ So, that's how is going to be? I must admit that this exceeds even the most hidden thought that I ever had regarding my death. Hmm, look at that, the most unusual death after the most banal life. The law of compensation I guess. Shit! “
 - Everyone get away, motherfuckeeers!
 - Geeez, is that Leftie? W
ith the speed of light she installed herself back in her place.
- Hi, Rightie! Missed me?
 - Sure thing, Leftie.
- Than take this! She handed to her sister a big Kalashnikov.
- What are you doing? Don't shoot them! What about their owners? What are they supposed to do?
 - Put some silicone.
They began to shoot everywhere, everyone, merciless, continuously ... just the way I like it. Some of the breasts who were still sober enough ran away and saved themselves while the other ones dropped dead one by one in swamps of blood and milk which combined became some kind of pink fluid.
 The nightmare was over. The prime minister thanked me and my breasts 100 times for saving the town and offered us 50.000 aatchis as an apology. I took the money and went home. I entered my apartment and looked around. Everything was exactly the same as I had left it this morning, just like nothing had happened. I turned on the TV:

“ Back with the latest news, ladies and gentlemen. Thanks to our authorities and leaders, the situation seems to be again safe and under control. “
On the TV were images of janitors sweeping the dead breasts from the sidewalks.
“ The esthetic clinics directors declared that they are willing to make huge sales for silicone surgeries for the women who lost their breasts.
 - Is at least we can do in compensation for the drama that they went and still going through.
 Declared Dr. Lame, the director of the Esthetic Surgeons Association. ...”
 - Go to hell!
I turned off the TV, took my favorite argan oil and gave my breasts a nice massage as a reward for the heroes that they had been.
 - Tell me, Leftie, why did you put me through all this?
 - I'm sorry, I just ... I felt so lonely, sad and worthless. I woke up sad every morning without any desire or joy of living and then I found out about the great revolution and thought that the leader's speech made sense. It was exactly what I needed in the situation that I was: A light of hope for the better and so I fell in the trap and went with them. But after the revolution started I saw that they were using it as an excuse to behave like assholes, get drunk and in the end it was just about taking over the town, not about the breasts rights so I left. I came back home, but you weren't here so I imagined that you are looking for me so I went after you. When I finally found you I heard you asking Rightie if
she sees me anywhere in the breast gathering and her reproaching you that you are not able to recognize your own breast and again ... I got sad and decided to go on my own separate way.
 - Oooh, Leftie, I'm so sorry!
- In the end I saw on TV that they got you hostage and I said “ enough is enough already!”, took some weapons and came after you. And what followed ... you know as well as I do.
 - Yes. Thank you so much! Both of you! You were really great today! Really! Are you sleeping? Yes, no wonder after such a day. It's so good to have you back!

 18th of June, 3:30 AM Last morning I got up with the very precise desire of measuring the distance between my nipples. The result: 19 cm.

 Good night!

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

The World Is A Strange Place Compilation


“Music is a demanding language to begin with. It cannot be well understood without disciplined and dedicated concentration. What has been heard must be accepted and retained in order to understand what is to follow, and there is no going back to catch up.”

“How long is your attention span, you listener to music? Can you concentrate throughout an entire composition or is your attention span limited to a 60-second television commercial? How fine are your perceptions? Have you heard that note before? Was it held longer this time? Has this whole pattern been heard before?” CHUCK ISRAELS

And now here is my compilation of pieces of music and sounds which I hope ( like the nightingale ) that will give you some kind of thrill. Enjoy!


“The fight against the ugliness of our surroundings is a running war with all the risks involved.” - Philip Rosenthal

The torment of the nightingale



After many days of travel, the optimistic nightingale was flying above the town of Aatcha and thought to herself:“ Hmm, I start to get tired. I should find a balcony or something to rest for some days. Hey, there's a nice one right there.”So she went down to the balcony and made herself comfortable with the new environment. While trying to warm up her voice, she took a peek through the window and saw a really sad man inside the house. Just the thought of someone being sad or upset was a real burden for the optimistic nightingale, so she decided that it would be a good time for her to start singing, and so she did. She sang some of the most beautiful songs she knew. With difficult passages, with ups and downs, until she remained breathless, but you know, my friends, that the master of the house was deaf so he couldn't hear the beautiful songs of the nightingale and so he stood there absorbed by his depression and melancholy.The nightingale began to wonder ... was it her? Was she losing her voice? Her gifts? No, no, no, such thoughts must go away.“ Ook, I have something for you, mister! “ She gathered her powers and began to sing Beethoven's 9th Symphony. You know, our nightingale wasn't only optimistic, but she also had great musical knowledge, she knew everything.So she sang with all her heart for the enjoyment of her sad host.Reaction? Absolutely none.The Nightingales are very sensitive creatures whose self confidence is supported by people's admiration towards their songs and when that doesn't happen even the most optimistic nightingale like our friend here can become really sad and that's exactly what happened to her: the confidence was going down with the speed of light making room to desperation and insecurity.When the master of the house turned his head towards the balcony felt a little relief when he saw a nightingale who seemed more sad then he was.“ Hey, look at that, maybe I could make a new friend!” thought he and went out on the balcony.When the not so optimistic nightingale saw him coming she said to herself that she is going to give it one more try.“ Alright, Scriabin, the last Ace from my sleeve. If this won't give you thrill than nothing will.” And so she begun to sing Scriabin's 10th with great effort and heart. She sang so beautifully that all the other birds stopped to hear her. The squirrels and even the master's neighbors were all going through some kind of color seeing trance none of them weren't capable of doing anything else but listening to her, that's how beautiful she sang.Only the master of the house was staring at a troubled nightingale looking like she's about to give her last breath so he gazed sadly at her. The nightingale stopped and talked to him in english- How can you be so cold? Don't you like my voice? Why? Is it rusty? Tell me! My mission is to bring happiness and joy to the world so would you please give me a smile, a cry, anything? Please!The man saw the nightingale on the edge, she was on the point of losing her mind so he thought all this might be his fault so he went back inside. Seeing this, the depressed nightingale gave up on singing and on life and did what nightingales do when the time comes: auto mutilation. She begun to eat herself from down. She ate her little claws, than her little body until only a head remained on the fence of the balcony.“ Goodbye, world and sorry I wasn't good enough... “ and closed her eyes forever.All this harakiri thing gave the master of the house a big thrill. I mean, come on, is not every day that you see a nightingale eating her own body so he laughed and cried in the same time for about 10 minutes.Then he wiped his tears, blew his nose, threw the nightingale's head in the garbage and came back to his sad, deaf and depressed place.

Small Talk



*Once upon a time there was this family. The mother was quite beautiful, the father chubby and the kid was pretty funny. Everyone loved them until one day when they moved in a different neighborhood and nobody ever heard of them again ( not even me and I hear everything ).    </span>

* Once upon a time there was a raccoon who fell deeply in love with Rodika the Squirrel.  Rodika was jumping around joyfully from tree to tree, in other words she didn't give a shit about our raccoon.

One day the raccoon took a deep breath and 100 ml of whiskey and  went to the squirrel to tell her about his feelings. She was jumping around like crazy as usual.

- M'am, m'am! Can I talk to you for a second?

- Hm?

And running towards her he stumbled in a tree root and fell. The squirrel began to laugh like crazy while the bloody raccoon was watching her with sad eyes and thinking to himself " Alright, now is really over."

And that's how it was.

* Once upon a time there was a sad little boy who thought that nothing makes sense in this world. During his life he tried to do all kind of things: bungee jumping, snowboarding, skydiving, threesome, psychedelic drugs, but nothing really thrilled him. He died at 84 of thought cancer.

* Once upon a time there was a boy who fell in love with his sister. Every time someone told him that is totally wrong and weird he used to say:

- And why is that? I know her, I trust her, I love her so why is that wrong?

And let's admit that the boy made some kind of sense.

* Once upon a time there was a Rolling Stones fan. He used to listen to them all the time and when he wasn't listening he was singing their songs.

Sometimes I used to think that he did it on purpose to drive me mad so, also on purpose, I killed him one day. The police came, took me to the station and asked me with threatening voice:

- Why did you do it?

- Please, officer, let me go. i am not guilty. It was his fault.

- How is that?

-He was listening to satanic music day and night. Listening to it, singing it. He was a Satan lover.

- What exactly do you mean?

- I mean ... I mean ... Rolling Stones, officer!

- Angie, Love the way you walk, love the way you talk Rolling Stones?

- Yes, but don't let yourselves fooled too, please. All members of the band sold their souls to the devil. Satan is involved, believe me.

- That's ridiculous. How do you know this?

- In the first place It would've been impossible for them to have all that succes without the deal with the devil and in the second place I witnessed the whole exchange. I was there in the forest up on a tree and saw everything.

- Oh, my God. Look, I will let you go for now if you promisse not to leave town and come back to tell us the whole story.

- Promise!

But I did left the country that night and nobody can find me since.

* " Devil knows where we live so we might as well let him in."