mandag den 10. august 2009

Forbid fighting dogs?

These days there has been again a lot of discussion about prohibiting fighting dog breeds. I agree, but I would like to add, forbid any dogs! I am sick and tired trying to avoid stepping in a dog shit every time I put my feet out of the house.

I don’t get the thing about having a dog. It is pervert, a pseudo friend that totally depends on you. Do people get dogs just to be able to control someone in their lives? Why bother having a living creature that has so many needs and gives you so many obligations, why not buy a Barbie doll? The Barbie doll can also be good company, but you don’t have to feed it, or take it out. When you go for holiday, no need to get space at the local Kennel for 3 weeks, you can just put the Barbie back to the drawer or on your bookshelf. You can even take it with you at all times.

Don’t get offended, any friend having a dog and reading this. Just ask yourself why you have a dog when you have me. You can take me out for a walk, give me food and something to drink, and I will show my appreciation in better ways than just waving the tail.

mandag den 3. august 2009

Torture by words

I had planned to stop this nonsense as I shouldn’t have time for blogging anymore. My friend Vips hasn’t given up and found a maybe interested publisher for my great idea of children’s travel books, again. I should be excited, but have I proceeded with my book? No. How have I settled with my urge to write then? Writing plenty of obscure e-mails.

I figured I cannot go on with this anymore. I have eventually a need to write stupid things, but no one has sinned that badly they deserve my personal mails.

First offer was Olivier, being a part of my survey “What does it take to turn a guy off”. I have written him a couple of stupid mails, but little have they helped. So I decided to tell him how I didn’t really believe in his Jewish God, and introduced him instead to my philosophy of life, shortly put as La vie est plus facile pour un chameau (Life is easier for a camel). To spice it up a little bit I mentioned about my obsession of naked women and ended my mail calling him an apple pie, "Je t’embrasse très fort, ma tarte aux pommes". Well, if this doesn’t work, I guess I can always invite him to accompany me on the yearly Nazi ball.



Then I found out that I had run out of Finnish chocolate, and had to get in touch with Mr P, too. While inviting him over to bring me some chocolate, I wrote him how women should always have younger lovers as young guys are physically tenacious and grateful for older women’s experience. First of all, what could I possibly know about that, and secondly, why would Mr P care???? It is like telling an Eskimo about the importance of taking malaria pills. Unless Mr P has gone through sex exchange operation, and this in fact I couldn’t know. First turning from world’s best kisser to a gay guy, so stepping to another sex isn’t maybe that far away after all.

Today I got a mail from my ex-favorite hetero guy at work, the one who left us in November. He was complaining about how it was hard to get the ends to meet his new work being so far away. I suggested he turned into escort business instead, then he could decide himself how much and when he wants to work. Thinking about how easy it would be to get clients with his good looks, I offered to manage his calendar, and we would both get rich and happy. I guess I will never hear from him again and this even without mentioning of (only thinking about) offering myself too if any beautiful female client would request threesomes.

So I guess it is better to blog. I could also start writing my children’s books or use the time at office for actual work. Yes, the last sentence was a joke.

tirsdag den 28. juli 2009

Happy birthday, blog!

Yep, it is exactly a year ago I started this nonsense. As I am still in my Italian mood, I celebrate it with Eros.



vorrei poterti ricordare così
con quel sorriso acceso d'amore
come se fosse uscita di colpo
lì un'occhiata di sole...

onsdag den 22. juli 2009

Hush!

I went once accidentally to a Hush concert as one of my clients wanted to go, and I have been a fan ever since. A good fan gets new fans; now there is also a French Jewish boy loving Hush...



" My brain is soft from last night..."

Oh la la...

mandag den 20. juli 2009

How the cruise control was born

I guess it happened when a woman was driving with her flip-flops on German highways 160 km/h, trying to keep up with the Porches. The flip-flops got constantly stuck in the carpet under the clutch and once in a while she lost the flip-flop totally from her right food which was on the speeder, while having a Porche in front of her and a Ferrari just behind. Then this woman thought it would be a good idea not needing to use the feet at all, and came up with the idea of cruise control.

PS. If driving with flip-flops, never park next to a German police officer at a Rasthouse. Driving with flip-flops is forbidden in Germany and with the fine you get, you could have bought some more decent shoes.

Driving on German highways

.
“Wife, you are driving too slowly.”

“Husband, I am driving 150 km/h!”

“But wife, all the Germans are overtaking us.”

“Husband, poor man, the Germans are driving Mercedes, Porches, BMWs and big Audis. We are driving a French car!”
.

« La vie est belle” followed by “La vita e bella” followed by “Life sucks !”

After two weeks in France and one week in Italy, the awful truth always hits me. For some reason God loves to show me for 3 weeks every year how my life could have been if I had made some smarter choices in my life. Instead of going through 3000 boring mails at work now, I could be sitting on the piazza Bra, drinking prosecco and waiting the second act of Carmen to start. Life sucks big time! If my darling Olivier hadn’t also sent me a mail (there were in total 3001 mails), I would probably have committed suicide by noon.

This is also the time of the year I wish I had a cow. After 3 weeks' absence the garden looks like a rainforest, the cow could have kept the grass and the bushes down. And the fridge being empty, the cow could have taken care of the milk for my morning coffee and the kids’ cereal.

The kids were delighted about the empty fridge though. Yesterday morning I asked them if they wanted ice cream or frozen peas for breakfast. They wanted to have frozen peas. Sure. Just as sure as I want be in Denmark right now.



(How could I exchange the endless summer nights here to this f.... boring life?????)