Class personified

Good day to you. Or good night, if you're reading this at night. Obviously. Good whatever-bloody-time-you're-reading-this to you, then. Right now, it's almost 3 o' clock in the morning, or the evening if you prefer it that way, so I'll say good night to myself. Good night, Giel! Why, thank you, Tom! Jolly good weather, isn't it? Yes, yes! So, how's the missus? Ah, you know, same old same old. She begged me to stop. Oh dear, you are a machine! Indeed, I am!

Enough of this rubbish.

Some time has passed since my last post. I've been to Holland for a week, jolly good pancakes they got over there. Some pretty ladies too, but we won't get into that. Or into them? Oh dear, I'm just nasty. Not much to do in Holland, except eating pancakes, getting your arse blown off your bike by the sea winds and hitting grown-ups on the heads with hammers. And watching late night poker tournaments. It's fun to see other people lose at that game for a change.

I guess the reason for this post would be Indy's latest blog entry. Indy's the guy who had one blog, then had two blogs, then had one blog again and now seems to have no blog. Well, the blog's still there but apparently it won't get updated again. Oh dear! My links on the right side of the page are dying faster than that hamster I forgot to take out of the washing machine. The only surviving beings out there now are Al Gore and Squall, or Wouter, if you consider him to be human. Don't Now, back to business.

Indy's decided to quit blogging because, well, you know, because. Read his post. Other stuff in his life is more important and I can understand his choice completely. I like the 'the medium is the message' thing, although I don't quite get the connection between it and the whole blog quiting thing. But then again, I never was much good at making connections. Speaking of cool quotes like the medium-message one, here's one for ya:

Don't you talk to me about clothing. I am the embodiment of style; I am fucking class personified.

It's from one of my stories. I'm not quite sure why I have a fashion-sensitive character in my story, but I guess it's just my nature to do and write stuff that doesn't make sense to most people. Which brings me back to Indy's post, I guess. With his master summarizing skills, undoubtedly sprung forth from his PCPG career, he described what the Playstage crew is doing with their lives right now. Well, almost the whole crew, he actually forgot younglink. So I'll comfort you by saying that younglink spends his days going all Austin Powers with hot chicks, going Homer Simpson, or Duffman, with his friends and playing the shite out of his Xbox 360. My knowledge of humans has let me down in the past, so don't send some Chinese guy to me to cut my balls off if I'm mistaken.

He's right, I don't know what I'm going to do with my life at this moment. No use fo the world struggling though, the only time I'm struggling is when I'm in the little room after many days of food entering and not leaving the body. But that's another story! I don't have a determined path, I don't know what I want to do in my spare time and I certainly don't know what job I want to be doing in ten years time. I'm bloody 19 years old, I shouldn't care about that stuff! I should be enjoying life at the fullest, going out with friends, watching some entertaining movies, listening to my favourite kind of music, acting silly like there's no tomorrow. Which is exactly what I'm doing. I hate a predetermined life. "Let's choose these studies so I can get that job, make that amount of money and buy that kind of house and have so many children." Hoo f-cking rah!

If there's one thing I've learned over the last two years, it's that life is unpredictable. One day you're watching you're favourite television show with your mother, the next day the doctors let you know she has an extremelt rare infection and that she only has so many days to live. Fuck that shit. But that's life. One day you're pissed at everyone and everything, the very same evening you're having the night of your life when you're just out in the café with your friends, chatting about all sorts of rubbish. I like life this way, at least it's exciting. We get over the downsides eventally, so let's just have some fun while we can. Tomorrow we get hit by an ice cream car, they drive at devilish speed these days, and we're all deaed. At least we lived today.

I like nonsense, I like rubbish, I like unpredictability. I've never liked people who would say: 'You're studying languages? What the fuck for? You can't get a decent job if you study that!' I don't f-cking study to get that specific job. About 90% of the people who graduate in our school end up in normal jobs, doing their little thing to make the economy roll on. The rest get one of them fancy language jobs, translating stuff and making subtitles for movies and that kind of thing. Which I would like to do, making subtitles. I find them pretty fascinating, commbining a lot of spoken language in short written sentences. So study languages! But I would also like to make movies. Write scripts, help friends directing their movies. Then go to the movie school! But I also want to improve my guitar skills. Improve my play a few levels, maybe even teach younger guitarists. Then study music! I would like to teach. Then study to become a teacher! I want to do something about our climate and I want others to join in. Join Greenpeace! If I had to study for every cking thing I would like to do, I could wipe my arse with my bear before I'm through with all of the studies. Besides, numerous famous examples have made it clear that you don't need a specific degree to get a specific job. They may be exceptions, but that doesn't change the fact that they are.

Anyway, no offense to anyone who prefers his life that way. I guess it's a safe bet if you keep out of the way of ice cream cars. Nothing wrong with knowing what you want to do in the future. But it's not my cup of tea. Call me crazy, come to think of it, they already call me that, never really knew why, but I like chaos and unpredictability. I find no fun in knowing what's about to happen. Life's a great story, I hate to see it spoiled by reading the later pages today when everything is just getting started. Ah, some lame metaphoric, philisophic crap to end this post, what more could we ask for.

'I'm fucking class personified.'

Ah yes, that. Good one.

And sorry for the typo's, but I don't read loads of rubbish twice.