Some simple wisdoms - II

My previous post, now that I read it back after a while, looked like it bordered on the edge of goodie-two-shoe-ism.
But it held some solid truth.
However, now I'm in another phase again, and the same energy comes from enjoying the good stuff - a couple of bottles of booze, a box of cigars, seeing your cat tear a big dog a new hole, beating the living crap out of said dog's owner and not getting arrested for it... some more booze and cigars.... tearing down a wall in your home that's been bugging you for months and discovering money (old money, no longer a valid currency, but still great for a monetary nostalgist like myself!), cranking up Seether, SOAD, and more kick-ass bands on a kick-ass laptop while tearing down another wall... at 23:38... yelling "FUCK YOU NEIGHBOR" with each chunk of stone and concrete that comes down... and drinking some more.
And having another cigar in my mouth...
And just maybe I'll go and hook myself up with some weed tonight - haven't smoked any in well over a year now.
Much of my old life - bars, friends, activities - are no longer around, so I'm entitled to some replacements, such as boozing and smoking.
And somewhere around 04:00 I'll pop on IRC to chat with folks I actually care about.
Shit don't get much better than that...

Some simple wisdoms...

Sometimes, great satisfaction comes from little things.
Just cleaning up around the house will take energy, but at the same time it can provide a lot of energy, in a different way.
Energy which ends up inspiring and driving someone to undertake greater things.
This is a general wisdom, widely known, but in modern days it often becomes a forgotten wisdom.
And no, I'm not going through a "goodie-two-shoes softy"-kind of phase, I still tear ass, I still like women and a beer every now and then... well, I'd like a beer right now, and then another one.... but I've been cutting down on alcohol and other things.
Because I needed to get back into shape, for myself.
And still need to.
I just didn't recognize myself anymore, in a way.
And at moments like that, we can use that boost of energy that we get from the little things.
Cleaning house, working out, reading a good book and taking time for yourself....
It all makes a difference in how you take on whatever life throws at you in a day.
I'd almost say that those things are therapeutic, but then I'd have to punch myself in the groin and recite some stupid girly-poem... long story, but let's just leave it at that I don't intend to ever do that.

Life's little wisdoms...

Well, it's been a while since my last post.
In that time I've gained some insights in several fields of life.
Some of those wisdoms I feel I should share, since, well, they're mine, and this is about my wisdoms.
So, here goes...

1. Farting is cool.
Especially when you fart on someone else.
But occasionally, something goes wrong, and you won't realize that chunks are coming along with the gas, until it's too late.
In such cases, use this wisdom:
- Act like you intended it that way.
Sure, it may not look good to crap when you intend to fart, but hey, put on a good show and at least it will look cool.
- Act like you couldn't help it because you weren't fully there.
Seriously, who could blame you if they thought you were high on crack, pcp, drunk from booze AND under medication?
Just remember to say completely random and insane stuff at times, to pull this one off.
- If you intended to fart on someone, and the chunkage happened:
Look over your shoulder at your intended victim, grin sheepishly, and ask if he's ready for the BIG one, next...
Also, prepare to run like someone's about to take your backdoor virginity...

2. You get born, you live a sucky life, and then you die, unless you're me.
The grim reaper doesn't have the balls to come after me.
But when you die, it all just starts over.
Reincarnation.
Nothing you can do about it.
So, you get born, you live a sucky life, you die, death sucks, and then you get born again.
At some point you'll get reincarnated as a guy who has to suck other guys' cocks - not because you're into cock, far from it, but because you need the money for a loaf of bread, some bland stuff to put on that bread, and maybe a cup of coffee.
Ain't that a bitch...
So, in short, let me sum it up like this:
Life sucks, death sucks, and at some point you're a dude who sucks cock for a living.

3. Emo-kiddies suck.
Seriously, emo-homo's, you need to face the reality that the universe doesn't revolve around your failure to properly slit your wrists.
Grow a pair of balls and go jump off a high building, or out of an airplane.
Don't post another blog-post about how you failed to commit suicide and how that hurt your feelings.
If you must post something, let it be about how you finally succeeded at committing suicide.
Now there's a blog I'd look forward to reading... you buncha whiny-ass crybabies.

4. Mel Brooks is God.
Mike Judge is God.
Lemmy is God.
That punk-ass shitface who you think wrote the original bible is just a cheap knock-off.

5. TV sucks.
Radio also sucks.
The internet is the last battleground between stuff that doesn't suck, and stuff that sucks.
I am all man, after radio and TV went, I need stuff that doesn't suck.
So, for fuck's sake, you corporate and governmental whore-monkeys, keep your filthy hands off the internet.
I need, crave, and requiure stuff for free.
If that means Metallica has to sell one of their gold-plated toiletpaper dispensers, then so be it.
Fuck 'em, there's days where toiletpaper is all I eat, because between taxes, rent, more taxes, the cost of living and more taxes, I'm pretty much ass-raped the day my monthly money comes in.
So, FUCK Metallica and all those candy-ass pretty-boys who suck the industry cock like it was a bottle of champaign.
The only time I get to see champaign is if I ever decide to sell my ass in some fancy club.
Yeah, that's likely to happen... I think right after I gnaw off my nuts and suck cock.
Let me re-itterate... GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY FREE MIDGET HERMAPHRODITE TEABAGGING SITES!!!

There, those are my wisdoms.
If you find you can agree with them, good, may they serve you well.
If not, well, fuck you...

Wisdom Today...

Today, I want to share with you a wisdom that may already make sense to many out there.
Google is your friend.
Google will help you in your darkest hour of need.
And after you've finally found a hitman service that is willing to off you for two beerbottle caps, a shiny nickle and some pocket-lint, Google will hop in the sack with you.
But whatever happens, don't ask it to move it's thumb away from *there* - trust me, Google can go pretty damn violent, even when pretending to be a smooth pimp.

Good things come in small packages...

It's been a while since I posted anything here.
The reason is simple:
I've been busier than Liberace would have been in the Vatican.
But I've got a few seconds now, and some inspiration.
It's been a while since I had both at the same time.
But hey, let's get on with today's little wisdom...

Good things come in small packages.
Today I got a large package from two friends.
But it contained several smaller packages.
And those smaller packages contained things that touched me deeply.
And I don't mean in a "catholic priest visits a school"-kinda way...
No, no no no.... I mean that in a good way.
A great way.
A speshul way...
Some of the things brought back some special memories.
Some others were just hitting a special string.
All of it was good.

Now, I know that not all those who spend their "lives" behind a computer may have such close friends (or any friends at all, for that matter... hey, you're sitting here reading a crappy blog...) so I'll try and translate this wisdom to their (or your) situation.
I could use one of my older wisdoms about the test of manliness, but I'd rather use the example of the big, hard turd that won't budge for other purposes.
So, let's try this for size;
Let's say, someone sends you two packages.
One giant package, and one small one.
You open the giant one, and out comes this big black violent mofo who beats the living crap out of you, then brutally proves to you that it's true what they say about black men...
Trust me, not being able to sit down for months, is NOT a good thing.
After this ordeal, you somehow manage to turn back time... or you just repress the memory about being taken up the butt by a man who's hung like a churchtower...
Whichever the case, now you open the smaller package...
Out jumps this tiny Japanese guy.... he karate-chops the living crap out of you and brutally proves to you that it's true what they say about gnomes -- ewp, sorry, I meant Asian men...
Now, wouldn't that be a lot better than what the black guy in this example did to you?
Point made, enough said...

Seriously...

This little wisdom really needs to be shared.
I've been the kind of person who's very serious about things that matter, but I'm also the guy who will break the tension with a joke or a fart.
I like to joke around, like to make people laugh, but I also like to see people do the same.
There are too many, though, who take even the lightest things in life too seriously.
To those I say:
Go fuck yourselves.
It really isn't worth hating someone the rest of your life and making an ass out of yourself, just because he or she gets more attention than you.
It is worth the effort to joke along, and possibly end up getting more attention that way.
Stop taking little shit too serious, or you will end up being seriously taken, rather than being taken seriously.
And that's today's little wisdom.

Nobody fucks with the Wolf.

A long time ago I was called "Big_Bad_Wolf".
I was one of the two original ones.
The two of us had a gentleman's agreement about usage of the name on IRC.
Everything went well, there was no confusion, both of us used the name and everybody knew it was in use by both of us.
But after a few years our original IRC network (not "our" as in property, but we hung out there) shut down rather unexpectedly, driving entire communities apart.
We lost track of eachother, and I ended up roaming many, many networks in search of lost friends that remained lost.
On those many networks, it turned out every assclown with a desire to act bad-ass was claiming the name Big_Bad_Wolf.
So, the name too became lost.
I spent some time going by other, inferior names, until I figured "Blackblood" fitted me well.
Unfortunately, after going by that name for a while, it turned out someone else already went by that name in other places that I visited too, and he had a legit claim to it - Not only did he get it first, it also fitted him.
After that I used "Blackblood73", and another variation, but it just didn't do enough to distinguish between us, so I went looking for another name again.
Several inferior and some even down right ridiculous names were tried, until I decided to simply go for "Biggest_Baddest_Wolf".
A variation on my original name, with an added notion of how I was - and am - the biggest and baddest, the only remaining original, the Alpha male of Big_Bad_Wolves.
And it was a good choice.
It fit me like handlotion fits a hand.
I was me again, there were no misunderstandings (well, a few from wanna-be copycats but they were soon sorted out and dealt with) and the Wolf was back in his forest.
And after a long time, the fakers started to lose interest in "Big_Bad_Wolf" long enough for me to reclaim that name at least on one network.
Surprisingly, the new group of friends that had grown around the Wolf had always considered that name as mine.
The wisdom in this story:
Fakers can be takers, but in the end they lose it all again.
And only the original will always be the same.

To the ladies...

This little wisdom goes out to the ladies, but I've also got something for the other party which gets mentioned in this article.

Ladies, we know that not all guys are decent, and even the decent ones sometimes end up hurting.
It makes you feel crappy, which is a natural reaction, and as such a perfectly valid one.
However, here's the point I want to make:
Ladies, don't feel like shit over a guy.
The bad guys, they aren't worth feeling like shit over.
They're sleezebags, you can get better, and you should get better.
The good guys, it's okay to feel bad over them for a short while but not too long.
A good guy will not want you to feel like shit over him, a good guy will not have too much trouble to face the fact that you might have to move on to a better guy.
Besides, even a good guy is not worth feeling bad over for too long.
No man is worth feeling bad over for too long, trust me, I should know, I've been a man for 32 years and several months now.
33 years and some months, if we include the time I spent in the womb...

Now, this one goes out to the crappy guys, the wanna-be's, the ones who give men a bad name:
Stop whatever fucking games you're playing, come clean, and make a choice.
You can't have your cake and eat it, if that cake has feelings.
Start showing some sincerity, some sincere respect, to the ones you're bullshitting.
It will be much more rewarding in the end.
If a lying sack of shit gets lucky all the time, just think how lucky you'd be getting if you were a decent guy.

And here's one for the good guys:
Yes, life sucks...
And yes, we will probably be the guys who die alone, with nobody knowing.
But goddamnit, I'll gnaw off my own balls before giving up on being a decent guy, I've fought too hard, too long to keep it up, giving up now would be betrayal to myself - and I'm sure that it would be the same for other good guys.
Besides, I have a deep-rooted hatred towards lying shitbags... if I became one myself, I'd have to face that part of me which remains good... and nobody wants to face a pissed-off Biggest_Baddest_Wolf!
So, keep up the good stuff, and you won't end up with me tearing you a new hole.

Finding out if you're straight?

There's a very easy way of finding out if you're really straight, or if you're a closet-case (metrosexual, as they call it these days).
Though controlling it can be impossible; this test will come on it's own accord, whenever it wants to come.

At some point in a man's life, there will be a moment were he has to go to the toilet to take care of some serious business.
Well, this happens a lot of times, but this particular case will be what seperates the men from the metrosexuals.
See, this time around, the guy will squat down on the porcelain throne, thinking it's time to take a dump, as it has been many times before.
But then, things take a nasty turn.
Suddenly, he realizes that this dump is slowing down...
It will slow down right after part of it is hanging out, and then it'll just stop dead in it's tracks.
Being a guy, he'll think about just squeezing it off, and renewing the effort to take a dump the way God intended dumps to be taken.
But then it becomes clear that this particular dump is harder than anything that's supposed to pass the sphincster, regardless which direction.
No matter how he tries, it won't be squeezed off.
In fact, it starts to fight back...
It will glide out just a fraction more, before getting lodged again, this time having a wider part of itself stuck in the cornhole.
THIS, people, is what the test is about.
Will you be a guy about it and try to get rid of it as best as you can?
Or will you just sit there, crying like a catholic schoolgirl at the annual tentacle rape hentai convention?

I tried to get rid of that damn fucker, every time it happened to me.
Sure, it hurt... and on at least two of those occasions I spent up to 45 minutes on the toilet, screaming like I was being impaled by a big, black, genetically-engineered-to-put-the-fear-of-God-into-anything-that-moves, arroused stallion.
Trust me, I have proven my straightness more than was needed, more than I wanted, that way.
When the thought crosses your mind to just reach down and grab that mean fucker with your hands, and pulling it out even if it drags along your inner workings, that's what makes you a man.
Actually doing it, makes you an imbecil... because with your inner workings gone, you'll never have to worry about taking a dump again; you'll be dead.
Realizing that it won't come out nicely, and then trying to somehow suck it in again, makes you a metrosexual.
Having your mascara run because you're cryin like a little bitch, makes you a metrosexual.
Unless you're a woman, of course, because then there's nothing being tested; then you'd just be having a bad day.

So, guys, eat whatever the hell you can find, that might cause such a test to occur.
It's about time we found out which of us re metrosexuals.

* This does not apply to Italians.
With all the make-up and stuff they put in their hair, I'd say it's safe to assume that they are well beyond the limits of metrosexualness.
Seriously, I've seen drag-queens with less pharmaceuticals plastered on them.
Italians are about as manly as George W. Bush is a mensa-member.

Wolf's First Wisdom

Here's my first little wisdom:
In life, a cancerian meets many obstacles.
And often, he'll get screwed over from every side.
But it isn't all bad, just remember that every cloud has a silver lining.

Cloud:
You're going to prison, and your cellmate is the biggest, nastiest, toughest, meanest S.O.B. you've ever encountered.
Silver lining:
On your first night in prison (and during just about every time you shower) you find out that someone loves you.
(Even if not in a way you'd actually like.)

Cloud:
History hates you, so much that you'll never become famous.
Silver lining:
Sure, you won't get a chance to share your big discovery with anyone, but they can't change the fact that you're the first person to have discovered a new kind of fist-sized, highly intelligent, sentient, flesh-eating bacteria that reproduces like snails do, only at about 1000 times as fast.

Cloud:
During life, you never managed to gather a large following of fans.
Silver lining:
You will have billions of people celebrating on one special day - your funeral.

Those are some little wisdoms to cheer up the average cancerian.