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Friday, March 28, 2008

Some Primitive Poetry:

(This is only to the malevolent stalker... not all you lovely stalkers that I like but wish you would leave a comment or send me an email if you have something to say.)

Ode to my malevolent stalker

You've deleted my emails
that weren't meant for you,
intercepted my post mail
I know you've done that too.

You lie and deceive
to keep someone's love,
now that is something
I hope that I am above.

Within five minutes
you'd threatened my life,
don't bother with me man
just make her your wife.

So you say your "connected"
Shit! maybe you're "mob"
but your bluffs went to far
you over-imaginative S.O.B.

Go ahead, pull your strings
and call out the hit,
they can come to a war zone
in their accomplishing it.

Actually, Never mind
just leave me alone,
cause I've got bitches to bang
and skills to hone.

(In reality I'm not banging any bitches, but the stanza went together so nice that I had to keep it.)

Just stop telling her lies
and don't spy on my shit,
I've got my own heartache
fuck off and leave me to it.

I am not your real problem
but I have a suggestion,
Why are you reading this?
now that's the real question!

Monday, March 24, 2008

You want pictures?

Quote of the week: "It is recomended by that you don't go through the top hatch while the main rotor is still turning, for you will be immediately assaulted by the rotor blade."


This thing is GIGANTIC... in a hoover dam kind of way...





Some of the many remenants of the previous management.




In the museum of the Victory in the Great Patriotic War. This is the Soviets being about as subtle as they can...


I'll blame the this for any misspellings.


This is Kremuchug Flight Collage. The school in the back ground should give you a pretty good idea of the more recent architecture around this place.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Greetings from the land of perpetual dehydration!

That would be Europe in general... where a tiny glass of bottled water is about 8 dollars and carbonated, and beer is 80 cents. (Except of course Greece, were they invented clean water... but then poisoned it with turpentine to keep the turks from stealing it.)

This place is so un-American in every way I almost feel bad about being here... like I am spoiling the snow with footprints. I'll get into the cultural weirdness in a minute. First I should answer the most important questions about any new place... "How is the beer, and the women?" The beer... well, this place has confirmed my suspicion that energy and mater are not the only conservative substances in the universe, instead it is a general operating principle of existence. As evidence: I payed over $20 for two crapy beers in New York about a week ago... now I am paying about 80 cents per bucket of absolutely excellent beer! I think it is called ZPRKZCETYHC... I am just kidding, that is not what the name of the beer is, that is the name of everything here! What I am getting at is that the universe knows that a $10+ beer must have it's equal and opposite... and it is here.

Having established the conservation of beer as a law of the universe, I am troubled by the thought that women may also be a conservative substance. Because after this place... I am owe the universe like it was a pissed off loan shark with mafia connections... and that is just for looking. There is absolutely no concept here of the american female idea of not wearing something because it makes her look slutty. There is absolutely no fucking way to describe the women here. Mind scrambling is the closest thing I can think of. 90% of the women start off armed with 8' legs and perfect tits... and they improve from there. I didn't know that it was possible to have a camel toe with jeans on... but it is... it is the way they wear their jeans here. (In fact they may just be spray painted on.) Continue that concept with at least knee high, if not thigh high, stiletto boots and you have an idea of the most conservatively dressed women I have seen here. I swear to god I am not making any of this up. They have an aviation college here... sort of a aviation trade school as far as I can tell. In the heyday of soviet pilot training they where graduating about 400 pilots a year. Now they are down to about 25. This leaves them with a huge surplus of classroom space. How would you fill the rest of the classrooms? Of course... you would expand your program to offer training in "Book Keeping." This is for real... the collage trains pilots and office girls, at about a 1 to 15 ratio. And since they are going to the "Flight College" they must wear the uniform of the institution. (This is where VMI and the Citadel fucked up) The female uniform is a mid-thigh mini skirt, fishnet stockings, knee high stiletto boots, and a very tight light blue blouse (obviously no buttoning regulations...) If I didn't see this place with my own eyes, I would never believe it. The female uniform looks like one of those novelty costumes... but better quality. I swear this is all completely true! It is very hard to concentrate... how can you learn very technical subject matter in a foreign language with that all around you?

We have solved the tactical problem of procuring drinking water. We have saved up enough water bottles and have found a source of fresh water so that we will probably not die of dehydration... though the locals give us very odd looks for drinking water. Now for the next tactical problem how to get a haircut. While finding a barber is the first step, telling him how i would like my hair cut with no common language should be the more difficult one. How do you say "a one on the sides, leave the sideburns, tapered in the back, and long enough to still part on top" in Russian... or Ukrainian...?

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Detroit

This was originally going to be a bunch of pictures of the last few weeks. I have been living out of a suitcase, couch surfing, and living in hotels for the last month and a half. The pictures would have been a fiat covered in ice rime icing and towered over by 12' snowbanks. My mother wearing my helmet. A picture of the pentagon with defense contractor office buildings in the immediate background. Some air and space museum pictures. A cute butt that I was encouraged to take a picture of in hooters, (its owner was the one encouraging it... it seems that shinny cameras make people want to have their picture taken. Now I see why Sophist became a photographer!) But the problem is that I can't get to my pictures here... on the Sophists computer. I am sure as soon as he reads this there will be a follow up post with pictures.

In other news: Believe it or not, I have been called the most unemotional person they knew... by several people. I don't know if that was for sure the case, but I have noticed that i don't get emotionally excited either positively or negatively about almost anything. I actually started to question if I did feel strong emotions at all. I mean, shit! I barely even feel hungry let alone sadness or happiness. I have even had a few moments that I was pretty sure that I was about to die and all I felt at the time was mild disappointment. (Disappointment that I was about to be done with life... not that I was about to die. It was disappointment in the lost opportunities of the future.) The last few weeks have put that question to rest for me for sure. I am happy to report that there is no doubt that my emotion sensors work just fine! I have felt the full scale deflection of unbelievable happiness, hope, heartache, and crushing disappointment... Though, given that I just felt these full scale emotions, I actually think that the emotion sensors may be deadened by the intensity of it all. As crazy as it may sound I feel even more nothing than before.

Another thought: FUCK! Why can't everyone be brave enough to live their life. What the hell else is there to do, bide your time until you die? Fuck that noise!

Ok, I am going to go throw up... or lay face down on the floor. (I guess I am not quite feeling more nothing than before yet, but at least I have that to look forward to.) In the meantime... I am now stuck in Detroit for a week with nothing to do. I need to get my happy little ass to the war...