Hmm...

Bukowski

Hustle!

Weee Wooo!!

You know those shady guys on the streets, trying to stop you with silly questions or straight up blocking your way and trying to get you to buy some stupid shit? The ones you usually avoid eye contact with or cover your ears and yodel "I have no money, gipsy!"
Well, I'm one of them now. I started the job yesterday and I'm selling SNAPfaxes - student discount books - which are totally worth it (call 07597559563 to start saving today!). I kind of like the job - hustling on the streets, talking to strangers, getting made fun of and making money. By the way, it's been 2 weeks since I had any money to spend, up to now I've been living on the kindness of my friends and my ingenious stealing tactics. Mostly the latter.

Right! Listen up now! Lupe is back with a new single and all you bitches better go check it out!
Lupe Fiasco - The Show Goes On

Tomorrow is Francesc's Bangday. Should be fun.

The last two weeks... Shit. A lot of irresponsible fun. The last weekend, at least.

Right, so last week, from Friday to Monday I terrorized The Watering Hole. 3 out of 4 nights someone wanted to fight me. Got threatened by arrest. Luckily Francesc got me out of everything. That's a friend. I tried out some new pickup lines, such as Do you want to see me naked? and I am intrigued by your big boobs. One worked. Anyway, I'm not gonna get into more details of last weekend, it was horrible. But of all the shit I did, I'm ashamed of only one thing - hitting Francesc. And that's why I'm not drinking so much any more.

On Wednesday I made a challenge to Francesc - I bet that he couldn't go to The Watering Hole in pajamas and get a number in 5 minutes. Game on!! And guess what, he did it. He's good.
The same night me and Francesc started The List. Basically it's a bunch of stuff we need to do before we're 25. Some are sexual, some are weird and some are funny. Oink oink (PIG NOISE). But it's top secret so that's all you get.
I'm not exactly sure how, but after writing The List we ended up making a condom-bomb* and playing Hot Potato in front of our house, wearing boxers. I lost. While we were playing, Anissa walked by our house.
Anissa is a deeply religious Belgian muslim, can not have sex before marriage and when I first saw her, I thought she had cancer. And she's nuts, but that's another story.
Anyway, once, when we were in Anissa's kitchen, one of her flatmates said (maybe jokingly, but we don't believe in jokes) we can come over whenever. So we did. Nothing much happened, though, just made some funny, taught the girls female psychology and textiquette.

On Friday I felt the consequences of last weekend. Got a lot of crazy eyes. Every girl I talked to, I hoped I hadn't met her before. But now I can just go up to girls and say Have I insulted you already? If not, game on.
Oh, and guess what! Kosta's friend from Glasgow came over for the weekend and he's been having a good influence on Kosta - he's been drinking for two days and coming out with us! BOOM!! To us, it is incredible, because Konstantin is constantly studying (NICE PUN, KRISTO, SELF FIVE!). And it's good to have a 2 meters tall taekwondo Russian with you. Just in case.

Yesterday morning most of my friends went on a two-day trip to Isle of Skye, so I went out with my Russian comrades. And Tobias. God help his twisted soul. Anyway, I met Getter and Marleen, Estonian girls. They agreed to be my wingmen, but ugh... All they could do was say Have you met my friend Kristo? and then I was on my own. I met a Kenyan girl though, from NEW CARNEGIE HOUSE, MOTHERFUCKERS. To the noobs - New Carnegie is the place where all the rich people live. They have a TV in kitchen, their own sink in their room and private toilets. I live in a kennel. But finally, I'm starting to infiltrate the lines of the rich. The next week she's supposed to cook some Kenyan food for me. But nothing exotic, she said, they eat normal food. Whatever, though, I'm out of money and will eat whatever I can get my hands on. In Jobcentre I saw a list of soup-kitchens etc. Guess I'll be trying out homeless cuisine soon.

I have a story for you. It's real, too, so all the better.
So, there's this couple, right. And they're in love. But as all good love stories go, their love has a challenge - the girl goes to university abroad. They agree to have a long distance relationship and the boy promises to visit her. And so he does, after one month of being apart. He flies there, all happy cheery to be united with his other half. And the girl says she doesn't want to have a relationship any more. Funny story, everybody laughs. Ha ha. Fucking bitch.

Aaanywayyyy, enough of this, let's get to the educational part now. Some musical education for you guys.

Hoodie Allen - You're not a robot


*It's just a condom filled with water. We invented it one night when some skanks were skanking around our house. Especially one with a Fuck Me shirt. So what better way to get rid of a skank than throw a condom-bomb at her.


If you read what I posted last night... well, shit. Don't worry, it was just some overdramatized drunken nonsense.

Oh dear...

So you've got too drunk on vodka for 3 days straight and it's not too nice. You want to cut down on your drinking and come up with a nice plan - no more vodka, just get some beers for the night, no way you can get drunk on those. But somehow you still end up climbing trees and barking.
I could use some willpower.

The Big Black Mama

Big Black Mama. The vicious, man hating boss of Adam Smith House. Me and Francesc's archenemy. It's huge, could probably beat up the male side of your family tree and inspires fear in the hearts of the manliest of men. Proof of God's twisted sense of humour.
How our relationship was cultivated, was that one night me and Francesc were bored so went to Ana's place (she lives in Adam Smith House) and hassled her to use her shower, because ours a) was broken b) had only cold water c) had a dead man in it. No cigar, instead she decided to throw shampoo at Francesc and as they wrestled, I yelled Fight fight fight!
Big mistake. Not that there's anything wrong with a little shampoo fight, but you do NOT want to have one when The Big Black Mama is sleeping, rebuilding its stamina to continue its battle against the gentler sex (next to Big Black Mama, all genders are gentler). It came out of its room and inquired into the cause of all this noise. Paralyzed by fear, we humbly said we were just trying to have fun, mumbled some jibberish about showers and dead men and promised not to disturb its sleep again. Unfortunately, The Big Black Mama resides near Ana's kitchen, where we often go to for pre-drinking and naturally we make some noise and laugh like jungle creatures, causing its hate towards us to grow.
Yesterday we went to the TV room in Adam Smith House and encountered The Big Black Mama there. She was watching X-Factor with its disciples and started interviewing us as we intruded its territory. All kinds of questions, as to what are we doing in its house, where do we live, do we know anyone in the house etc etc. Fortunately we forgot our ability to speak English and it turned its attention to the TV. God bless the TV. But not X-Factor, because well, I kind of left the impression that I'm not a big fan of the show. The Big Black Mama is. Disagreement equals death.
My fate was sealed yesterday night, when I was relating the stories of terror The Big Black Mama had imposed on us to people in Ana's kitchen and The Big Black Mama appeared out of nowhere and heard me call it the way I call it. Shit.
And today, when Francesc wanted to go Adam Smith House, one of its disciples closed the door in front of him and wouldn't open it. We've been blacklisted, I think.

Lucky lucky

I've lucked out quite a bit. Tripping around Spain with no money and documents and feeling there's not a trouble in the world. Wasting all the money I was supposed to save for university on drinking and parties. Leaving school and flying to Italy for a vague promise of a job with no return money. Almost completely avoiding school for a year.
Always following my blind faith that everything will be all right. And through all my laziness and self sabotaging my faith has led me to a place I like. But I feel I'm running out of luck. A little desperation is starting to creep in.
I have 666£ on my bank account which accounts for 2 months of rent and 50 pounds of cash, which will be my money for food. I'm laughing at the moment, because I'll probably buy some weed with this. Everything will be all right, just follow your faith.
If I don't find a job before 8th November, I'm done for. I feel calm thinking about it. Worrying won't change the facts.
The current plan is, that if I don't find a job, I will cash out the 300 something pounds I have left on 7th November (on 8th they would take the money from my account for rent), join some volunteering organisation and next year go to Africa or India or wherever there's a big density of unlucky people. We'll see.

Quite a crew

Marius "I have a summer house in Mallorca, drinks are on me. Let's sniff some coke" Sauerkraut - the rich kid with a little coke habit, as I told you before. His sister is a semi-famous German actress. Ugly. Not much to say about Marius, though, but I do think he's the most broken fucker I've ever come across. He's constantly on some sort of high. Usually alcohol. As soon as he comes back from lectures, he pours a can of beer down his throat and won't stop drinking till he goes to sleep, often drinking alone in his room. Ugh. And he just became 19. I'm sorry for him. He went to Germany for the weekend and said he'll bring some coke and amphetamine back with him. It's supposedly very easy, just hide a few Gs in your boots.

Tobias Schniedelwitzen - the only guy I don't really like in my flat. Yeah, we both go out, we both try to pick up girls, but we're as different as black and white. When I go out, I want to have fun, but this is a concept he has a hard time understanding. The only reason he goes out or even talks with girls is to get laid. For the last few days he's been excited like a 5 year old kid with a sex addiction, trying to talk us into going to an "Octopussy" party in Liquid. Jesus creeping shit.

Alex - a chubby Englishman, addicted to washing his clothes, cleaning the kitchen and recycling. Waging a battle against drinking and having fun, he's been out with us only once, to a dinner thingy at Ana's kitchen (I love this place, it's becoming kind of symbolic to me). Yesterday the only interaction between us was him telling us to fuck off after we tried to buy some drugs off him. He spends all his time in the laundryhouse and Francesc thought the only possible conclusion is that he's a dealer. Not so apparently.

Francesc - damn, I like this guy. One of the most fun people I've met in my life. <--- this is shit writing by the way - show vs. tell. If you want to let people know you had a fun night out, you don't just say Oh yeah, it was great, instead you describe it. But I'm not that good at writing, and most of the good jokes are jokes of the moment, it's very difficult to transfer the atmosphere and fun into words. I'll try to remember something for the blog next time we're out though.

And then there's Kosta.