Theme: I Don’t Believe

Theme: I Don’t Believe

It would be easy for me to list the plethora of elements in this world that I do not believe in. That sentence saddens me. It saddens me because it makes sense to me. So much around us is man-made and requires some measure of belief in order to serve a purpose. Religion is the obvious example of this, but I will avoid this particular topic, as religion and beliefs in and of themselves tend to bring out the very worst in people – the worst in mankind. I do not believe in religion – nor the religious.

This is neither here nor there. What I want to talk about is a few quirky disbeliefs of mine. I don’t believe that…

  • the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy was well-written. Quite the opposite, I found it terribly hard and ludicrously laborious to read,
  • Batman is a character worthy of any attention. Nor his companions. Nor anything around him. He and his universe just do not appeal to me in the slightest,
  • the cake was a lie. It was there if you stayed past the end credits,
  • any aliens have ever been close enough to observe humanity. If any superior race had noticed us, our industrious nature, our ambition and hunger for power, we would have been wiped out immediately,
  • the Olympics should be for professional athletes. I would rather see it return to its ancient roots featuring nothing but amateurs and ordinary people,
  • the Game of Thrones TV series is any good. It is rubbish if you ask me. The books are amazing, though,
  • OJ was innocent,
  • the epilogue of “The Deathly Hallows” should have been written. However, I do understand the purpose of it, yet, it still made me want to heave,
  • homeopathy is anything but a shameless sham,
  • astrology is any better, but it is easier to make a buck off of telling people what they want to hear than telling people they are garbage,
  • sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me. Words stick with you. And words can haunt you forever – especially a truth,
  • the Phantom Menace was that bad, but a few things rubbed me the wrong way,
  • the Return of the Jedi was any good, at all,
  • virtual reality is the future,
  • social media – in particular, Twitter – was ever meant to bring people together. Quite to the contrary, they seem designed for commercialised hate-mongering,
  • people should be persecuted if they sodomise anyone using a selfie-stick in public for its intended purpose.

Seriously, the selfie-culture needs to sod off. I have no patience for it. “Here I am posing in front of Michelangelo’s ‘David’,” they would say presenting their selfie. Great vacation photography with some random plebs face obscuring the sight of a masterpiece. Not only a massive waste of time, but also a massive loss of genuinely interesting material – lost to a pleb face in a self-centered ploy for attention. I imagine these people will be massively disappointed when scientists determine the center of the universe and found out that is not the selfie-enthusiasts.

I Don’t Believe: Just adopt…

I Don’t Believe: Just adopt…

Have you ever seen this on your facebook wall? Probably not, but if you are one of those unfortunate souls who is infertile, or for some reason cannot conceive naturally, you will recognize this. Well-meant advice but I wonder if these well-meant comments come from people with big bank accounts or with no clue. I somehow suspect it will be the latter.

Adoption and why you should really think twice before telling someone to “Just adopt”. That is what I will be writing about this month, a month with as theme “I don’t believe”.

Apart from the gruelling psychological testing and the scrutiny about the finish of your house, the amount of time you spend in work and how financially stable you are, there also is a big financial aspect.

Let me quote from www.internationaladoptionguide.co.uk:

“The major costs are outlined below:

The Home Study is now costing between £4000 – £9000 depending which adoption agencies you use for your assessment

The Department of Education charges £1775  for your Certificate of Eligiblity.

Facilitation in your country of adoption from £1000 – £10000 depending where you adopt from

Sundry fees for translations/court fees etc in the region of £2000.

The visa to bring your child home in the region of £1000.

These figures do not include travel and accommodation and other expenses. “

So at the lowest end of the estimate it is just under £10000. Now I don’t know about you but for me that is a hell of a lot of money. It basically drew a line over my dreams of adopting. There is  no way we can afford this when we hardly make ends meet most months and often need help from my parents just to pay all our bills.

Luckily the site has some more advice:

“When you are calculating the cost of your adoption, please bear in mind that what may feel expensive now, will soon be forgotten, and the financial aspect should not deter you from adopting. There are many ways to raise money and your friends and family, church and wider community will support you on your journey. And not all monies will be payable at the same time so you will be able to spread the costs. And little adjustments can be made in your daily budget, just not buying a coffee in the morning will save you over £40 a month – enough to buy you support and guidance with our retainer Guide Service, or a day support in-country.”

I am so glad that they told me that not buying a coffee in the morning will save money. Newsflash: I don’t buy coffee in the morning, I don’t buy coffee full stop. Not because I don’t like coffee but because we can afford that kind of luxuries. Last time I ate at a restaurant was months ago and if it wasn’t a class reunion I would not have been in a restaurant then either. Just for once I would like to show people how we are careful with our money. We don’t go out, I haven’t seen the inside of a hairdresser’s in over a year, my clothes are hand me downs, all my bathroom products are from the shops own budget brand and we eat vegetables from my dad’s garden so we don’t need to spend that money in the shops either. I am an Android developer with an ancient budget friendly phone and my boyfriend has my old hand me down which now has a broken screen.

I know there is always room for more savings, we could get rid of our tv subscription, be vegetarian, stop going on visits to family abroad but really what is left then.

I don’t believe anymore, I don’t believe I will ever be a mother and I don’t believe anyone will ever realize how much we stretch to make ends meet.

Ferly the I Don’t Believe

Ferly the I Don’t Believe

My disbelief in so many things is so broad and so long that it can be seen from space!

I don’t believe in fairy tales, superstitions or old wive’s tales, because if you do your nose will grow, you’ll have bad luck and you’ll get warts on the palms of your hand!

I don’t believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy or the Boogyman (unless we’re talking KC). Yet, I still get gifts, candy, money under my pillow and scary things under my bed!

What I believe and what I don’t believe seems to have little bearing on what is and what isn’t.

Oh and those scary things under my bed? They are called dust bunnies, they are second cousin to the Easter Bunny. They are pissed because they have no special day of the year just for them so they wreak vengeance by forming a barrier around all the stuff that finds it’s way under your bed and keeping you from getting to it without them attacking you and getting in your hair!

And what is “talking KC”? If you don’t know who/what KC is a reference to then you don’t deserve to know!

But seriously, who reads this crap anway? I mean this crap that I write… I don’t believe anyone does!

Ferly the Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

Ferly the Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

She had never stayed in a hotel by herself before. She’d dreamt of fine, elegant hotel rooms with beautiful views of far away cities, and even though she was just downtown in her own little city, she felt like she had traveled to another part of the world. She left her spare room key on the bar with the man she’d met that night. He had complimented her on her smile and her eyes and he had treated her like she was special, so she left her hotel room key fob on the bar, flashed him her “fantastic smile” and batted her “gorgeous eyes”, and walked slowly out of the hotel lounge without looking back. She ordered champagne and strawberries from room service, then filled the oversized tub and added a doubled dose of bubble bath before slipping into something more comfortable. She waited, postured on the bed wearing just her best negligee and her fantastic smile.

The phone rang and startled her. She awoke a little disoriented and scrambled for the phone. It was the 8:00 am wake-up call she’d asked for when she checked in. She sat listening to a recorded voice telling her that breakfast was served until 9:00 am, and check out was at 11:00 am as she looked around the room.  There were the expensive strawberries and champagne she couldn’t afford, here in the expensive hotel room she couldn’t afford. She hung up the phone and tried to keep herself together as she began gathering her things, but as soon as she saw herself in the bathroom mirror she lost it. Her lipstick and eye makeup had smeared around her face, creating two black eyes and half a clown mouth. She sat on the edge of the tub and burst into tears. She pushed up the drain plug switch and the water level immediately began to get lower. She reached for a washcloth and accidently dropped it in the now freezing cold, bubbless tub water. She retrieved it, wrong it out and put it over her face. The coolness felt good against her hot skin, so she cleaned herself up and went into the main room. Why the hell should this go to waste? She thought, as she stuffed strawberries into her face and the tears began to flow again. She drank champagne straight from the bottle, although cold, it was a bit flat. Still, it helped to wash the strawberries down and the tears stop flowing. A nice buzz from the champagne was enough motivation to get herself and her things together.

She looked herself again as she closed the door behind her and headed to the desk to checkout. Her modest dress made her nearly invisible but still she still made an effort to smile as she passed the other guests and staff, with her clean, make-up less face. Her mind wandered to thinking how many people steal from hotel rooms and if the staff would think her a better guest because she had stolen nothing and tidied her room before leaving. She waited in a long line of people who seemed extremely annoyed at being in a line. No one looked at each other, they just deep sighed, looked at their watches and deep sighed again. She was happy not to see mister “Wow, you have a fantastic smile, gee I could just look into your gorgeous eyes all night, but I don’t want to have sex with you”. She began to look at her watch and deep sigh.

When it was her turn at the desk, she explained that she had lost her other room key fob. The desk clerk waved one hand without looking up and said “oh that’s ok, someone turned it in”. She began to dig violently through her purse to find something, using it as a ruse to collect herself and fight back the tears. The desk clerk started tapping a pen on a clipboard to get her attention. Rude! She yelled at him, and he rolled his eyes at her. She signed the form and stormed out, telling herself that the clerk was lucky she didn’t ask to see a manager over his appalling behavior.

Now back home, the empty place with no husband, no kids, no pets and no warmth, she dropped her bag and her purse on the floor, kicked her shoes off so hard they hit the shelves in front of her and knocked over several photos she has been meaning to pack away. She stepped over the mess of broken glass and wondered into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. Her champagne buzz had just about worn off and there was no one around to step in the glass or stop her from drinking a bottle of wine before noon.

Theme: Freedom, Sex, Food and Key Chain Fobs

Theme: Freedom, Sex, Food and Key Chain Fobs

Back in January I was looking through the themes for 2015, and this month’s theme: “Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fob,” had me puzzled. I thought that it was an English/American saying with a non-literal interpretation, but no. To be fair, English is not my native language although most of my day passes in English. I am using it to get by. I leave it to you native-English-speaking types to account how the sentence “Some people can’t stand sitting,” came to make sense. Anyway, I threw a 4-sided dice (yes, they exist) as to which keyword I should focus on, and this month we talk about food. I leave the freedom, sex and key chain fobs for the rest of my co-bloggers to cover. So in line with a zine I went out and challenged myself to make some food. I am now a man that has made his own tomato sauce. And it was easy! Do not let anyone else tell you otherwise. It is easy.

You take 1 kg. of tomatoes. As to which type of tomato, I do not care. Ain’t nobody got time for that, and several gastro-scientists on the web have already posted deep analysis of which tomatoes to work with. They did the research and I ignored it. Which type of tomato should you use? The red ones. Simple as that. 1 kg of fresh red tomatoes. Anything else, I will not be responsible for the outcome. You take the tomatoes and wash them for dirt and whatever else they are crawling in from the market. And without any further processing you throw them in a pot with water and put them to a boil. Any boil. After 2-5 minutes in the boiling water, the skin of the tomatoes will crack. When cracked, pull them out of the boiling water. Might want to use a strainer. Put the cracked-skin tomatoes into a some cold/ice water to cool them off. Once sufficiently cooled off, you take each tomato and peel the skin off. I did this on 1 kg. of tomatoes in 5 minutes. It is easy. Messy, but easy. Remember to talk the center stalk-bit out as well. Ain’t nobody wanna eat that. Use a knife. When should be left is just below 1 kg. of red lumps.

When you want to add to your tomato sauce does not matter. I used 1 red bell pepper and 1 red onion, sauteed with paprika. You do you, and it will be fine. I recommend at least adding the onion. Red bell pepper, garlic, cauliflower, beef stew, strawberry pudding, loafers or babies is all up to you. No turmeric though. Never turmeric. You may use curry if you want to, but no pure turmeric. This shit is not going to get commercial red as it stands, no need to add lying treacherous yellow colouring to the mix. Once you have your ingredients and your peeled tomatoes ready to go, we do things the Irish way: Put it in a pot and boil it until you can eat it using a straw. The second messy part of the job is crushing the peeled tomatoes. I did so by hand because my paprika sauteed onion and red pepper motivated me to proceed macho-man style. You may use a blender or a food processor if your fancy ass kitchen has one of those, but I do not. Put a peeled tomato into your hand, put your hand into a pot and crush ever so gently. Once all the tomatoes have become a red lumpy mush in a pot you squeeze the lumps, too. Until everything is a red liquid-ish mass. If you have done some research into the best kind of tomatoes to use, you may have a lot of liquid in the pot now, or not so much. Does not matter much though. You add all the other ingredients, 1 tsp. of oregano and 1 tsp. of thyme and put it to a boil. And after seasoning your tomato sauce extra carefully, you may punch a wall to gain +3 manliness buff to counter the “growing vagina”-debuff you will be sprouting at this point.

You boil this liquid mass until so much water has been reduced that you are happy with the consistency. Depending on your choice of tomatoes and added ingredients this likely takes between 30 minutes and three hours.

Now, what I got out of it after using a camping handheld blender to remove excess lumps and reach my favoured consistency: a few small lumps in a homogenous sauce, I ended up with about a half liter of tomato sauce.

You may want to sweeten the sauce to your liking using sugar or artificial sweetener if you are so inclined, or diabetes is ailing you. If you do not prefer it sweet, you may opt out of this. Taste and spice, that is the key here. Some salt and pepper should be added at some point in the mix, preferably while the sauce is boiling, but you can do so subsequently, if you want. This is not set in stone. None of it is. You boil tomatoes with ingredients. It is not rocket science. It is cooking. No need to make things harder than they are.

The sauce was not as red as the store-bought tomato sauce. But in terms of taste, I have never had better, and I have been to Italy and I have had authentic home-made Italian tomato sauce before. It trumps the store-bought tomato sauce by miles in terms of taste and you get to control what is in it. No artificial colours or preservatives. No added chemicals. You know what is in it. And it tastes much much better. In terms of price, I paid 12-13$ for the ingredients and seeing as I can get half a liter of store-bought tomato sauce for 0.99$…

There is an old saying, you should never cross a river to get water. This does depend if it is a particularly nice trip, or the water at the end is much cleaner and tastes better than the water from the river. If you know what I mean. 😉

GP by GP – Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

GP by GP – Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

I have stepped out of the ship Buzz, almost on my own accord. It is the only fucking freedom I have left on this ridiculous trip. I am going to choke you Buzz, there is nothing else to do to you. I hate you and your stupid face, I am sorry that it will end like that, but choking you will be the only highlight on this arduous trip. You could have sent anyone else from the ship, but choosing me due to my attitude will not improve the end result noticeably.

What? I won’t keep it down out here, the smell is coming in through the suit and yelling at you is my only entertainment as I waddle. By the way Buzz, while I have you on the intercom can you tell me why I am walking in condoms and keys? THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING, I know you say that the suit is sealed, but I CAN SMELL SOMETHING DISGUSTING!

I am coming back in, I stepped in something and I have a formerly mentioned business I need to execute, pun very much intended BUZZ!

What do you mean that we have work to do out here? We don’t have anything to do here! It is working on its own, we are just been sent out here to watch mold grow or paint dry. This is fucking useless you piece… yeah, yeah… tone. Always with the tone. Sure let us have a reasonable conversation when it is you standing in 288 million metric ton of waste scattered over the eastern hemisphere of this FUCKING RETARDED MOON YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

I DON’T CARE IF YOU DO NOT LIKE MY PATICULAR TONE AND YES I KNOW SARCASM IS NOTICABLE THROUGH THE COMMUNICATOR!

Yes I will tone it down or misses log-rider will eventually start crying again. DO I HAVE TO MENTION WHERE I AM AGAIN? I do not care that I am cruel or misogynistic? WHAT? I have nothing against Jennifer nor her excessive crying for the last three weeks of this toilet voyage. I don’t hate women, I hate you ALL that is misanthropist you dumb-assed MOFO!

THEN COME OUT HERE AND JOIN ME IN SANDWICH JUNCTION BUZZ, I will make you a sandwich bitch! I will shove that disgusting piece of minced pig an arms-length into your large intestine, which I just stepped in. I will choke you with a keychain of smiling kittens here where I stand and dance on your soon to be poor contribution to this exclusive project of ruining a dwarf-planet faster than we ruin Earth One. I am happy to be a part of this wonderful race against time, KNEE DEEP IN FUCKING CRAP! BUZZ I NEED YOU OUT HERE, COME AND PLAY WITH ME AND THE KITTEN KEYCHAINS! THEY EVEN HAVE HAPPY BIRTHDAY WRITTEN ON THEM!

Blow it out your ass Buzz, you are wasting more air existing in there then I am out here yelling, prick. What is it you want me to do Buzz? What is that all important project or pathetic proportions you were dribbling about yesterday? Paleontology, pathetic, it is all the same dumb-ass.

Do you want me to go dig? Are you sure that you don’t want me to spelunk in the mountain of tossed furniture by sandwich junction? Or swim in that small lake of frozen liquid I am guessing has come from soda cans?

It is minus four hundred Fahrenheit right now Buzz, nothing is liquid, wait a few hours Callisto will pass the backside of Jupiter and you can go swim in “soon to be branded as the next best thing since cigarettes” lake. Take the family to a wonderful trip to Callisto, look at the sights of shit, waste and frozen crap neatly piled together with food, key chains and posters from the nineteen seventies!

We are not going to find anything Buzz. What the hell are you hoping to find in this environment. There is no signs of life out here. You can’t drop a dead cat into a pool of blood and hope it lives because you have most of the ingredients you need dumb-ass. Bacteria? Sure, let go to space and create new diseases we can’t contain or find the cure for. We haven’t still removed AIDS yet and you want to make space bacteria that will find new and creative ways to kill off humanity… you know what? Come out here Buzz, I have a job for your immune system. You don’t need a coat, the weather is great… dumb-ass.

So you want to throw fine words around like a scholar? Scholar my ass… I am perturbed by you, a malefactor if I ever knew one. Are you sure you aren’t a son of a corrupted scrapheap owner and are just in over your league?

So is your mom Buzz! I can say what I want since I lost interest in this project long ago. Yeah, yeah stop whining you dick, I will find your precious planet wiping bacteria so we can make sure that especially you won’t reproduce anymore.

Fucking hell, this is even more disgusting than kissing a dead grandmother on the mouth after she has been dug back up to make sure she was entirely dead after you ran her face over with a lawnmower thrice! The amount of semen from these condoms have made the entire place strangely paler than the rest. I know it has something to do with salt, but still… this is… nope… just nope.

I am out Buzz, go do this searching yourself, I can’t. I don’t want to look at it. Two hundred years of waste, it is a landscape of my nightmares Buzz and you sound like you have found El Dorado. It is junk and things that ought to have biodegraded hundreds of years ago.

I don’t know where to look Buzz, neither do you. Go find something you can show back home. I hate you, I hate everyone on this ship and I especially hate you Buzz, if you didn’t get it the first ten times? I found some rope here and I am going to hang out over by the mountain of furniture. Come see me if you want, I will be the one with a smile on the face. It should be easy to find me.

No I am not coming back to the ship, go fuck yourself, preferably outside without a suit you dipshit. You have been my bane for two years now and I have so many promises not to choke you because you are the only one who can land that elongated waste bin. They are landing in water when they get home so you are even more useless than I am Buzz. Leader or not you can shove this mission so far up your ass,that it can suck the nutrients from the sandwich I want to shove down your throat.

I know that I am low on everything from air to patience, but you don’t get it Buzz…

I know there is not enough gravity for it Buzz, but that won’t stop an entrepreneur with a passion. Isn’t that your catch phrase? See you all! …and especially you Buzz, I look forward to ride your face like a toboggan straight down the highway to hell!

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