Dating, men, and some other stupidities.

Kirjoittaja: Charley.

Sorry, been busy with my life and haven't had a simple chance to think what sort of shit would I write here. I guess I'm really not an decent blog-updater, plus, the school will be starting soon, and as I asked Hugo if I could just finish this blogging, he said it was ok if I just find someone to replace me. (Hugo's kinda busy. Think he's into , well, you could say, very much attached to his prolonged studying partner Valerie. Okay I admit they look cute together.

Except Hugo would be a total failure as a decent boyfriend. Let's face it, he's not that sort of a guy who can save his partner, girlfriend, or something like that if some dangerous guy attacks his love on the dark street. Luckily Hugo dislikes dark, and Valeria luckily understand the massive sensitivity this boy has.

Don't think I dislike Hugo that badly, just because he happens to be a 'mouseboy'. I'm happy with him, as long as I don't have to stand his humble, silent presence for eternities. In my eyes, people like he are just tiny pieces of rocks, that are easy to vanish, swipe under the carpet.

Most girls think people like Hugo are adorable. I don't get it. Is it really true, that girls create silly illusions, convince theirselves that they are just the right persons to 'open the person's inner lockers, open his heart for love and bliss' ...... seriously, screw that shit! These girls are the 'head over heels in love'-type, creating images that are far from a reality.

Is that really what love is? Making people blind to the mistakes and shortcomings their object of love makes, wanting to believe that the person they're in love with, is and ideal lover - 'His appearance and acts are just a shell, that must be broken, so that the warm, caring and lovable inner person inside can be dig out'............ This is just my assumption, but I've proven it with my own eyes - nearly every girl I know, has had that look on their face, as they've stared at some guys at school and sighed in so deep, that I could actually vomit.

I guess those girls have read too much Jane Austen and left those Platon's and Hitchcock's in the bookshelf. Or maybe watched Gone with the wind, when they shoul've watched the All Quiet on the Western Front.

Anyways, before I begin to blabber myself away, or even give myself a chance to cough out marshmallows and syrup, I'll inform, that this'll really be my last update. I already managed to pick the right guy to do the job - his name is Fran, and he comes from America, straight from NYC. As I sent him some email from the issue, he said he's already written one thing for Achu (the noisy bastard, guy with some musical talent, but nothing else.), and I think he sounded like he wants to write here. Warning - he's a DJ and really loves music. Seriously, you could nearly say he's one walking instrument, knowing over 687786 songs. That's probably the most annoying thing in him - he's just like a walking jukebox, always neither remixing, singing, clapping, tapping, slapping, bouncing, imitating...... luckily I happen to meet him only a few times a years. If I'd have to hear that much music everyday, I'd probably introduce Fran to a little technical machine called bazooka.

Well, this is all I had in my heart this time. Au revoir.