Vor einer Weile hab ich mal den Begriff des Fuck-Buddy definiert.
Kuerzlich wurde ich ueber eine weitere Definition informiert durch einen Abgesandten aus dem schnuggelig … aehm … unschuldigen (??? … !) Buendnerland, wo das Gras noch gruen und die Kondome noch unter dem Ladentisch verkauft werden … Dort versteht man unter Fuck-Buddy – oder in der deutschen Variante Lochschwager – zwei Maenner, die mit derselben Frau geschlafen haben, woraufhin der zweite dem ersten Kandidaten a kiiischta pier zahlen muss.
Strengt Euch an, dass Eure Betthasis sich nicht kennen/-lernen/begegnen/ … ueberhaupt voneinander wissen!!! Wir wollen hier ja nicht noch die Bierindustrie ankurbeln!
Mascara, known as the stuff mostly women put on their eye lashes, is a philosophy on its own.
The color range these days includes black and brown, sometimes dark blue or green and sometimes anything funky the big cosmetic companies come up with for a season style like turquois or yellow.
The much harder task to choose is between the different kinds of mascara. There are volumising, curling and lengthening versions and then the whole sortiment again waterproof. I never really figured out what I should want for me. As far as I can tell, it doesn’t really matter.
Finally you need to master that the paste
a) gets onto the place where you want to have it
b) it stays there at least for a proper 10 hours (yeah, right :))
For anyone you might have seen an instrument in a closet or make-up bag, which reminded him/her very much of anything a gynaecologist might use, this is used to force eye lashes into a form before applying mascara.
However you finally manage to color your lashes in luxurious black, midnight blue or sandalwood brown, it can look perfect when you leave the house …
… but can stick everywhere when you finally hit the outer world. The female world most likely won’t stop fussing with at least this bit of painting each day. Therefore I’d like to beg anyone passing by an unwanted Alice Cooper to inform him/her or even better – fix it (thank you!).
If you ask yourself why bother with mascara anyway, you probably never noticed the difference it makes. Take a closer look next time you look into a female face!
Just got back from the A perfect circle concert.
Definitely an impressive event. First to answer my questions:
1. The audience either had
– a piercing
– a tattoo
– long hair
– leather jacket
– baseball or any other kind of cap
– or any mixture of the above
(I belonged to the leather jacket section … oh, and the long hair as well …)
2. Yes, there was a lot of dark energetic magic.
What first confused me a bit, was that you never really get to see the lead singer. The first song he’s behind some sort of cloth and even after they drop it, you never see his face. He could have been a younger Ozzy Osbourne, a slimer Jonathan Davis (lead singer of Korn) or Anthony Kiedis back in the BloodSugarSexMagik days (lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers).
But as he’s the guy with that amazing voice and on top of a podium, you keep staring at him and his somewhat strange movements. I stared at a guy for 2 hours, I wouldn’t recognize if he’d be sitting right next to me right now. It’s like in some dreams where you can’t see other people’s faces. He’s known to do that and in an interview he claims that he wants people to much more intensly listen to the music and stop putting him into the idol role. Whatever. These charismatic kind of guys always have something about their own person.
The quality of the music was amazing. It sounded like from cd, but closer and darker. Maynard’s yells and screams gave me goose pimples and I would have loved to really dance, but the Volkshaus was sold out until the last of the 1874 places (my ticket number).
Ps: Even the Wikipedia has an entry on Maynard.
The past couple of weeks have been quite eventful:
My thesis came to a short stop. For something like a week I felt like no progress at all, which made my days at the University a bit a pain in the a** and my mood swings accelerated. Up until now I’m moving again and I feel a bit relieved. I’m probably in second gear and hope to switch to the fifth soon, since there are only two more months to go.
At my job they decided without any questioning me to change the main part of the application I’m programming for something like half a year now because of performance problems. I can understand why, but it’s almost done and there are a couple of tasks which might speed it up. So why not try them first and then go for the hard way? I mainly don’t bother except for the fact that I wasn’t at all part of the decision process. Then again – if somebody else has to hassle with that fat baby – I’m happy to hand it over.
It looks like I’m loosing touch with someone I really care about and have known for a long time. It’s so difficult to get to her and when you have her in front of you, you feel like talking to a puppet. She’s somewhere where I definitely can’t reach her and she seems to be wanting to be that far away. I hope, she’ll find her way back or – at least sometimes – lets me into that place where she is.
Finally my latest discoveries on the battleground of male versus female have been thrilling, but in the end disillusioning. Even if you win the battle (whatever that means), the results can be very confusing. At some point I had started to believe that some type of guys take anything so pragmatic that you can’t really get to them anyway. Understanding about myself, that I should better get my hands of those pragmatic kinds of guys, I just learned that I can very well get to them and piss them off with their very own weapons. So far I have no clue where things are going and what this is supposed to teach me, but I’m sure going to find out.
All in all this is a bitchy, but interesting time.
It has been a while since my last chick survival stuff post, therefore I’m introducing my tested and approved discoveries on the hair careslashtoolstomakeyoulooklikerightoutofbedbutbetter section:
Wella Life Tex is a line you only get at the hairdressers (and therefore is a bit more expensive), but does a great job. The first time in my life I don’t need a conditioner to dehassle a birds nest after washing my hair and that definitely means something taking my current hair length into account.
As for turning the whole stuff into a birds nest when dry, I highly recommend the 45 Seconds Styler. Also available at the hairdressers it’s the stuff that is mostly sold out.
A Perfect Circle is playing tomorrow at the Volkshaus in Zurich.
Their latest record Thirteen steps has been one of my favourites of last year (posts about The Noose and the record). I’m very curious about the kind of audience that listens to their music and somewhat unsure if their songs will do their magic live as well … Let’s see …
Gespannt sein darf man auch auf Elke. Das Berliner Trio mit dem leicht missverständlichen Namen setzt auf die klassische Besetzung Schlagzeug, Bass und Gitarre und drischt auf der Bühne los, als gäbe es kein Morgen mehr. Quelle: 20min
Soso. Da gibt es also eine Rockband, die sich mit meinem Namen schmueckt. Eine Rockband? Elke? Hm …
Erfahrungsgemaess faellt allen bei der Erwaehnung meines Names als erstes mal ein, dass es ein deutscher Name ist. Nach dem Austausch der jeweiligen Nationenangehoerigkeiten kommt je nach Angriffslustigkeit meines Gegenuebers die Frage, ob ich denn da einen Song der Aerzte kennen wuerde. Die eher aelteren, eigentlich auch ziemlich angriffslustigen Semester erwaehnen gerne Elke Sommer (Swinging Chicks,
Cult Sirens und ihre eigene Homepage Elke Sommer Artworks), die in den 60ern zu der Reige von blonden Sexboembchen gehoerte. Jaja.
Allesamt keine Assoziationen, die mich vom Sockel reissen, wenn jemand damit ankommt. Das man auf die Idee kommen koennte, eine Rockband Elke zu nennen, scheint mir so fern, wie ein Meerschweinchen Hellraiser zu taufen. Allerdings vermute ich mal, dass der Autor des zitierten Textes was anderes mit seinem leicht missverstaendlich meinte …
During lunch I had a really enlightening conversation. I met a friend of a friend by accident and our conversation evolved exactly into what I needed to calm a few smothers (Staubwolken) in my head.
I actually don’t remember how we got started, but we somehow got to the question what exactly is one looking for in life, where and under what circumstances to find it. What brought us to that one can never really be sure, what he/she is looking for unless he/she has tried several things. This asks for a certain desire of adventuresomeness and an acceptance of possible failure (not instantely getting what you seek) or – in a sense even more disturbing – an emotional and/or mental confusion about a total unexpected situation you find yourself in. Whatever happens, we agreed that in the end, you can only win as you get closer to realizing your real desires in life through experience.
This brought us to the question if there is such a thing as destiny. I don’t really believe in destiny. I’m actually very sure that only you yourself are giving directions to your future. My conversatinal partner called it a simple result of your own free will. As you keep craving for certain things, you keep choosing the paths that you believe to probably meet your cravings. I may sound ridiculous, but from my own experience so far I conclude that you sooner or later get what you want. Maybe not exactly in the way you meant it. Even more possible not at a time you were expecting or wishing for it.
But seek for whatever strikes your fancy.
I think I should continue to collect hands. If not from a sort of artistic approach then definitely because they belong to people that in any way crossed my path.
It was all about style & code yesterday night …