Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.
The country is grey and brown and white in trees, snows and skies of laughter always diminishing, less funny not just darker, not just grey. It may be the coldest day of the year, what does she think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.
– Excerpt from Frank O’Hara’s poem Mayakovsky.
When a man walks into a room, he brings his whole life with him. He has a
million reasons for being anywhere - just ask him. If you listen he'll tell
you how he got there, how he forgot where he was going and then he woke up.
If you listen, he'll tell you about the time he thought he was an angel and
dreamed of being perfect. And then he'll smile with wisdom, content that he
realized the world isn't perfect. We're flawed because we want so much more.
We're ruined because we get these things and wish for what we had.
She's a sweet girl, and she wants me to know her but.. I already do. People
tell you who they are but we ignore it, because we want them to be who we
want them to be. "To be continued" - I bet she was thinking on that line all
night. I like sleeping alone, stretching out like a skydiver.
I should appreciate it more.
Like the indians said to eachother in smoke signals; big cloud, small cloud small cloud, line of smoke, large cloud, stop
I’m back, but it doesn’t feel like home. Enough talking out of me, before I bore you to death here are some holiday snapshots. Oh and a video, with more holiday snapshots run together as if it were film
The Photofilmography video you can see right about here: Just click this link.
In other news Rudi Peefy sent me a horse. Thanks Rudi Peefy for the horse.
Good day.
Hello ladies, by now you may wonder why I’m not keeping you up to date about my misadventures through this very blogg. Well ladies, let me tell you the following – plus some more after it, which will create the blogg entry you so desperately desire. I know what you’re thinking. No, the other thing. I’ll give you an explanation why I didn’t blog earlier right away, after this ad-message.
Attachment.
I have no free time for there is always a whale begging to be rode upon. A coffee to be drunk and a mobile phone waiting to be modified into a machine gun slash butter knife. For example, just last week I lost my limbs as they were all bitten off by killer sharks that I was boxing. In fact -This whole arm isn’t real – it’s actually a fake – built entirely out of muscle cavity of a tiger who successfully ruled over a distant jungle in bangladore. True story.
I’ll autobiograph myself further in blog-posts to come. Let’s take a look at the title of this blog “A Blogpost Blogpost” – Still knowing what you’re thinking I’ll have another go at explaining. There used to be lesser times where I didn’t fight for earths survival and still had time to blog, some of those blogs excelled beyond average blogging standards. Here’s a link round-up for those. Be careful reading them, I suggest taking 15 minute pauses to rest your retinas from overexposure to pure ecstasy in letter-forming-words form.
Part 1 – Future Revolution Collaboration
Part 2 – Delivering The Future
Part 3 – The Ignorance of Evolution
Part 4 – A Need of Redemption
Part 5 – Consequence of Intolerance
Part 6 – Unfortunate Iconoclasm
Part 7 – Finality
I wrote a blogpost. This blogpost is now DIAMONDS.
Signed sincerely, the urban spaceman.
Good day, here a blog post without any fictionary stories.First of all, on the 9th of June all the citizens of the Netherlands will be able to vote for political parties to reign their parliament. In fact, I received my voting-pass in the mail a few days ago.
A Cross-Word Puzzle
This seemingly worthless piece of paper allows me to rule the country. Nope, it doesn’t – that’s a lie. It’ll allow me to choose who rules it for me. Nope that’s another lie. In fact, I was right the first time – it’s a seemingly worthless piece of paper which allows me to do absolutely nothing of importance. Whatever choice you make has no actual influence on the way the country is led. The current state of democracy is incredibly flawed, and if it weren’t for the PARTY OF PIRATES I’d have given up hope already.
Political Leader Black Beard
That’s right, Party of Pirates. Yes, that means the Netherlands could soon be hijacked by pirates. Filthy drunk pirates. I can’t wait !! The old political regime shall be keelhauled til death, and the rest of our citizens will plunder for booty. Finally some excitement regarding politics – who would have thought.
Arrrrrr!! Scabrous dogs and rusty women!!
That aside, there’s more non-fictionary-story news in this blog post. Aye, there are the small tweaks to my blog to be mentioned. For example the Grabbel Ton on the side of the main page. It’s a tag cloud – but what else is new?
Good question, not much is the answer.
Looks fantastic
Oh and I got a free bag last week, it’s pretty handy and it came for free.
Well, that’ll be all for now. Yes I suppose I was a tad hasty using the words “without any fictionary”, but that was to be expected. Tune in later for a Part 2 of “On a Serious Note” – which will in fact be “On a Lesser Serious Note” filled with tons of lesser serious topics.
Have a blast from the past!
~J.W.P.B. A.B.C.D.E.F
Nobody was wearing hats.. Not even Duck (who was licking frosting off a giant square cake in the shape of a fish). My jaw dropped to the floor in confusion, causing a weak enough bang to divert everyone’s attention towards me. Edward stopped the record-player which filled the room with silence.
“But.. but.. …” I mumbled as I pointed to some bare heads.
“Didn’t you get the memo, Big Face?” Said Duck, “We’re in the moustache business now. Seems you’re coming up shavingly short. You’re fired, again.”
Everybody, and I mean everybody, proudly pranced around with their extravagant moustaches. Some more ridiculous than others. From brushy to fine and curly, a real work of art I’d say. Yet I don’t understand how they grew all these within a single day.. Even the women had them.
Gill’s moustache was the largest of all, his reached onto the top of his head, reminiscent of an actual sombrero. Perhaps he was having a hard time adjusting to the new business plan.
After a while people seemed to ignore my arrival and continued to party. Maybe it was for the best, there was little left for me here.
On my way out I ran into a woman I had never seen before, she was beautiful and for a moment my heart stopped. The next thing I knew I was on the floor with the woman kneeling over me. Apparently the rest of my body stopped after my heart did. She helped me stand back up and asked if I was okay.
Right then I knew this could be the start of something new, an amazing adventure to sprout joy back into my life. Realizing that made me a bit nervous. As long as I don’t say anything to screw this up I should be fine. In fact, I should probably say something soon as the woman was still waiting on my reply. This is taking far too long, just say something !! Anything is better than silence !! But don’t scare her away !!
“polar bears” Damnit, she was already gone.
Ah well, probably for the best – her moustache would have only stood between us.
I didn’t buy it, instead I went out to buy myself a hat that would knock the entire team off their chairs – figuratively speaking. That was the plan, head back into work and show Duck and the rest of the guys I was worth every penny they had yet to pay me.
Once I arrived at the office I knew the right choice had been made. Everywhere heads covered in hats turned, whispers of excitement went around the desks. At the end of the main hall Duck stood waiting in front of his office. He seemed shocked, my hatted-arrival had surely impressed him.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” Duck spat at me as he said that, not accidentally either. He looked around hastily and ran to the nearest desk. Figured it’d be best to run after him. Once we got there he looked at me with an intense stare, shouted something that sounded a lot like the word hats, and smacked his hand on the desk as hard as he could. He seemed to be in a lot of pain.
“What I’m thinking of doing in the world is coming in to work and.. do it. My work that is. Don’t you like my hat?” Carefully ending my sentence with a cautious smack on the same desk. Somehow Duck didn’t appreciate this and he turned bright red. He began to shout out words so fast I could barely understand full sentences. “COME IN TO WORK WEARING STUPID HATS THAT SAY “I LOVE HATS” HOW DARE YOU RIDICULE US?!“ Well alright I understood that one just fine. Though his shouting knocked my hat off – not figuratively this time, which enraged him even more.
“AND DON’T COME BACK TOMORROW !! ” – Duck had been smacking several desks continuously to get his points across, his hand was bleeding and so were the desks. He ran off, straight into his office. ‘This had to be a test’ I told myself, tomorrow I’ll come in and Duck will be glad to see me.
As I walked out I noticed Moe Ron walking his giggling dog Uhh. I waved but he didn’t notice.
After lunch it was back to work, and Duck outlined the next six months of objectives for the team. I noticed the word “hat” coming up a lot. Like in all the objectives, for instance. And a couple of times, it looked like he got distracted and just wrote “hat”.
“Question in the back?” said Duck, pointing to my outstretched arm.
“Yeah,” I said. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Twenty-odd faces turned to me. “You could be creating anything you want! You could be coming up with new advertisement campaigns and media and slogans and–and–and all you do is sit around making hats!!”
A hushed silence. I started to think I might have gotten through to some of them. Gill Gazpacho, especially, looked at me with a newfound sense of wonder.
“You know, guys,” said Gill, “the new guy would make a great hat if we hollowed him out.”
Nods of agreement. Then, as one, they leapt up and advanced on me.
Big team meeting today. I came prepared. I’ve been designing a visual ad-campaign for the upcoming cycling-event with an entirely new approach on slogans. I had to teach myself sloganing, modeling, design, printing and about twenty other skills, but I think the results speak for themselves. Everybody took a crack at reading it.
“This is pretty solid sloganing,” admitted Duck.
“I like how we haven’t found any hats on the cyclists yet,” said Sally Rocksafella. “It sets up the suspense better. I’m all, ‘When am I going to find a hat already?’” Everyone laughed.
“I hope it’s soon, I can’t wait much longer,” said Peter Campsten. “Look how stupid this cyclist’s bare head looks!” More big laughs.
“Actually, there aren’t any hats in this campaign,” I said, chuckling.
“I don’t think you’re applying yourself enough,” he said.
“But I created an entirely new campaign from scratch,” I said, feeling my face get hot.
“Yeah, that’s really, really…” he trailed off, so bored with the sentence he didn’t bother to finish it. “Look, maybe you should read this. You know–help you get into the ‘Lingster Drapper’ mindset.”
He slid over a well-worn Ad-Design manual. I leafed through it. It wasn’t an Ad-Design manual, it was a coffee table-sized book of women wearing hats.
Mistaking my confusion for interest, Duck excitedly pulled his chair over to me, and looked over my shoulder. “Would you look at that hat,” he whispered, pointing to a lady in a wide-brimmed hat. “Gorgeous.”
“Are you crying?” I asked, because that’s sure what it looked like he was doing.
“What? No. I just had something in my eye.”
“Okay,” I said. It was pretty easy to see what he had in his eye, though. Tears.
Duck suddenly jumped up and took everybody hat shopping. I tried working in the empty office for a while, then decided to just go home.