Saturday, August 29, 2009

Plans! Plans! Oh Mighty Plans!


I had a plan to rule the world in the Palm of my hand. It was marvelous, you would not only obey me, you would praise me like a hero. Unemployment there would be no more! Education would be the best on earth! And we would have a strong army built upon hard working men and women such as you!

Our country would leave the deep shit hole we're presently in and would rise above every tower that is beyond us.

So exposed my idea to a committee which delivers the following response:

"Well, it's clear that the committee has agreed that your new policy is a really excellent plan but in view of some of the doubts being expressed, may I propose that I recall that after careful consideration, the considered view of the committee was that while they considered that the proposal met with broad approval in principle, that some of the principles were sufficiently fundamental in principle and some of the considerations so complex and finely balanced in practice, that, in principle, it was proposed that the sensible and prudent practice would be to submit the proposal for more detailed consideration, laying stress on the essential continuity of the new proposal with existing principles, and the principle of the principal arguments which the proposal proposes and propounds for their approval in principle."

So To respect the principle of "what the fuck?

I got lost in the second line and am still looking for my fucking identity", I decided to drop the bloody mess and file a cancelation for the previous plan I exposed. I was rejected the cancelation with the following argument:

"It is characteristic of all committee discussions and decisions that every member has a vivid recollection of them, and that every member's recollection of them differs violently from every other member's recollection; consequently we accept the convention that the official decisions are those and only those which have been officially recorded in the minutes by the officials; from which it emerges with elegant inevitability, that any decision which has been officially reached would have been officially recorded in the minutes by the officials, and any decisions which is not recorded in the minutes by the officials has not been officially reached, even if one or more members believe they can recollect it; so in this particular case, if the decision would have been officially reached, it would have been recorded in the minutes by the officials and it isn't so it wasn't."

Again I don't fucking understood this fucking bureaucratic speech, so I put it to flames set down in my couch and relaxed and remember this take from Garfield:


No matter how well you plan it, whatever it is, it will fall apart. But remember also that not planing is planing to fail. So My plan is to plan so that things fail in order to all fall apart and work out just fine in the end.
At least i think thwt are my intetions... well i don't know maybe i haven't plan it all that well.

Lestat of Lioncourt (or is it?)

Friday, August 28, 2009

I’m affair you placed me in an existential quandary.

After seeing the best of one's work and laughed about the worst one could come up with. I must apologize to my dearest and patient colleagues, for the inconvenience. But one fine gentleman, as I think to be of myself, cannot leave with his mouth shut after such monstrosity. I shall, I must scream throughout the road and avenue, beg for the blood of this feudal and brutal creature.

So to my friend Jack I don't wish any harm – only the above – I prefer the worst in you than the best, for every worst piece of shit you may write gives me less shivers than your rotten best.

Now that I have this strange predicament covered and wiped one's bottom. I must ever-so-slightly, bring upon us a tale of lust and romance… or sloth and greed, any way you put it, will be fine by me, as long as you'll take the responsibility of actually reading this dreadful "stuff".

Now is the time one Sir as myself, indeed, must say "You have been warn", so I will say you have been nicely notified, with the prospering smell of shit, about the horrifying peace of literature r you're about to stumble your eyes upon. So if you'll be brave enough to proceed, do try to enjoy or at least keep any sharpened objects away from your so nicely light eyes.

The story is about a self referring author of a strange blog, saying tales of economics and stuff like wise, and repeating Over and over this Great Post:

"I'm affair you placed me in an existential quandary.

After seeing the best of one's work and laughed about the worst one could come up with. I must apologize to my dearest and patient colleagues, for the inconvenience. But one fine gentleman, as I think to be of myself, cannot leave with his mouth shut after such monstrosity. I shall, I must scream throughout the road and avenue, beg for the blood of this feudal and brutal creature.

So to my friend Jack I don't wish any harm – only the above – I prefer the worst in you than the best, for every worst piece of shit you may write gives me less shivers than your rotten best.

Now that I have this strange predicament covered and wiped one's bottom. I must ever-so-slightly, bring upon us a tale of lust and romance… or sloth and greed, any way you put it, will be fine by me, as long as you'll take the responsibility of actually reading this dreadful "stuff".

Now is the time one Sir as myself, indeed, must say "YOU ARE BEING CONED", so I will say you have been nicely notified, with the prospering smell of shit, about the horrifying peace of literature r you're about to stumble your eyes upon. So if you'll be brave enough to proceed, do try to enjoy or at least keep any sharpened objects away from your so nicely light eyes.

The story is about a self referring author of a strange blog, saying tales of economics and stuff like wise, and repeating Over and over this Great Post:

"I'm affair YOU
placed me in an existential quandary.

After seeing the best of one's work and laughed about the worst one could come up with. I must apologize to my dearest and patient colleagues, for the inconvenience. But one fine gentleman, as I think to be of myself, cannot leave with his mouth shut after such monstrosity. I shall, I must scream throughout the road and avenue, beg for the blood of this feudal and brutal creature.

So to my friend Jack I don't wish any harm – only the above – I prefer the worst in you than the best, for every worst piece of shit you may write gives me less shivers than your rotten best.

Now that I HAVE this strange predicament covered and wiped one's bottom. I must ever-so-slightly, bring upon us a tale of lust and romance… or sloth and greed, any way you put it, will be fine by me, as long as you'll take the responsibility of actually reading this dreadful "stuff".

Now is the time one Sir as myself, indeed, must say "You have BEEN
warn", so I will say you have been nicely notified, with the prospering smell of shit, about the horrifying peace of literature r you're about to stumble your eyes upon. So if you'll be brave enough to proceed, do try to enjoy or at least keep any sharpened objects away from your so nicely light eyes.

The story is about a self referring author of a strange blog, saying tales of economics and stuff like wise, and repeating Over and over this Great Post: CONED TWICE"

And ending With a laugh at his mighty face, because for at least two minutes a dumb reader decided to read through the same post three times. Such amusing ignorance and ingenuity, brings upon a new flame to my slowing beating heart.

Your free range joker

Lestat of Lioncourt

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Big Romantic Gestures?



So you think you love her?
And you're preparing the day in wich you'll tell her, you're planning every little thing, trying to make everything perfect.
Maybe a hundred red roses will do the trick. Maybe get on your knees and hold a diamond ring. Maybe stop her in the middle of a sentence and just kiss her. Maybe send her a letter, an email, a text message... Maybe show up at her door and say the three words that are said too much, and yet not enough.

And I say why? Why do it?
Don't get me wrong, I'm a romantic, a dreamer, a perfectionist... But I'm not the kinda guy that goes on saying that. I just think being in love is a damn beautiful feeling to go waving it at the wind, unconsequentially.
I think those three words should be felt and not heard. When I say "I love you" to a girl, I want her to already know it.
And that's not acomplished with big romantic gestures, you get that with the little things.
Telling her you love her is like making a puzzle, little piece by little piece...

Jokes are only funny if truth is alike them

Tales, the tales one once read and now sees on video DVD.

I remember tales my father told me when sitting on my mother's lap, and seeing my grandparents mighty portrait, I remembered like it was just yesterday that I celebrated my 59 years of life.

I remembered giants and fairies in a promiscuous life, flirting little princesses and young of mind princes. With spells and potions, enchanted words and voids of silent.

They were remarkable this tales I once heard, colorful words of love: red for lust and blood, green for greed and hope, yellow for glory and wealth and blue for infinite and young.

Black and white words to build the most beautiful garden if one might say and write in fellow black in so deeply and profound white.

There was a jingle to some of the tales, like those in poems ta-ta-ranane-ta. Mozart envied the tailors for melodies they had and he never enjoyed.

This is a text of liberation, and it's Amazing Grace is Graceful for your amazement, dough senseless.

Words don't need sense when written for the pleasure of just appearing in a paper one day, with all the mistakes the heart desires, one must be careful not to desire too much for love is the worst mistake one can commit, even a murder is easier to explain.

Because is pain is mundane and love is rare and in the presence of both, only fools say what they have is love instead of a lustful and painful crush for the presents of life.

But don't think of me to be one to never commit foolish spoiling activities, for I too have seen the ways and smelled the perfume of the Garden of Eva and Meg. It was great and worrying at the first sight, strange to others and a game to few.

And a gamer I am, in the full sense of the senseless way the sentence must and is read at your eyes for I joke, play and laugh at the faces of you. Because when one doesn't have anyone to laugh with must laugh alone, and so HA HA HA's are delivered to the faces of die.

My friends, do you think I'm crazy now? Of course not you though, me to be crazy before and now you find it certain, don't you?

I did warn my friends socks and sleeves that such event was bound to happen to a Schizophrenic lunatic, such thy socks and sleeves of their feet and shirts.

Admit only to one crazy thing my dears, for loving the best of everyone and despise the worst in all the same one, indifference and full notification of such events in a bored way. Yawn!!!

I hope you've enjoyed this senseless beating on the key, for I enjoyed as much as I enjoyed sex… if I've get any. For lust is such an exciting thing one must keep way for the rest to function properly.

It is a terrible thing for a man to find out that suddenly, through all his life, he has been speaking nothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?

Oscar Saied:

In this world,

there are only two tragedies.

One is not getting

what one wants.

The other... is getting it.





But then again he was Wilde as me.

Have a good one, for I'll will fill myself in lustful syrup, and bath with the wonder dreams angels of heavens and hells.

Lestat of Lioncourt

Happy endings

A story about an heterosexual man falling for an homosexual woman. If anything, it is unpredictable; the characters are not what you expect them to be, they're not as hollywoodesc as they are real. It makes an interesting point on homosexuality: it's rare enough to find the right person, someone who's everything you've ever wanted, why should you still impose limits of gender on that right person?
On the negative side, they yell SO much, and her voice might irritate some sensitive souls...
No happy ending. 7.3/10

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The 3rd best musical I've ever seen. The typical couple-in-love-bad-man-trying-to-separate-them story taken to the extreme both visually and musically. It's a feast to the eyes, just superb, and the soundtrack is one of the best ever.
Ewan McGregor is almost at his best (and the man can sing!) and Nicole Kidman is... stunning! I've never seen her more beautiful.
No happy ending. 8.2/10

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This is one of those movies. Those Before the Sunrise's of the world. Brilliant. The best original soundtrack I've seen in a film, strong, yet simple performances, a good story...what more do you want? An happy ending. Not in this one though, this is a story about love, strong but (and?) unfulfilled love.
"What's the Czech for "Do you love him"?"
No happy ending. 8.5/10

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I guess life is not a movie. There's no "everything will be ok" and no "lived happily ever after". In the end, it's not who you love that matters, it's how. It's the attitude you take life with.

Happy endings only depend on where you choose to stop your story.

Monday, August 24, 2009

To make it public

The celebration of a birthday is something really special, in our modern society. I don't know why, and I don't care why. It is usually fun to celebrate, the fact that someone dear to us has completed one more year among the living,

There's always a party, and no matter how big or close it is, it is always special to have the people we most respect and hold dear, enjoying a special day because we live to tell today.

When invited it is usual to give presents, but it is not only an act of consumerism, it's a mark a souvenir to remember that we've reached another level in the life's ladder. Although one must admit that consumerism has a great part to play in this traditional behavior.

Yesterday, little lady deWinter was the baby of the day, been spoiled every rightful request, and caught up in surprise. It was really fun and good for the heart. But there's one sight problem that we faced this year and fear we will face in the next to come… Is that it's going to get harder and harder to top each year's surprise, so to you Lady we have a request:

Please lower your expectative for next year's celebration, because our creativity is running (sprinting) out.

Wishing all the best for all that celebrate, for whatever reason, life-

Lestat of Lioncourt

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Peace vs violence, violence vs peace, who will win? maybe the beast

Lord Charles Fox: When people speak of great men, they think of men like Napoleon - men of violence. Rarely do they think of peaceful men. But contrast the reception they will receive when they return home from their battles. Napoleon will arrive in pomp and in power, a man who's achieved the very summit of earthly ambition. And yet his dreams will be haunted by the oppressions of war. William Wilberforce, however, will return to his family, lay his head on his pillow and remember: the slave trade is no more.

Friday, August 21, 2009

A story to tell the Grandkids

My grandchildren, once in a cold summer night like this one, in the year of 2009, after your Grandfather Lestat, Uncle Jack and a Funny dog – whose name I don't remember – finished their game of snooker and the usual patrol for the night, we went to a gas station to fill uncle jack's car, the one in that photograph over there.

Grandson nº1: Fill it with what?

Gasoline, in our time we didn't used all this solar energy mambojanbom, we had to use petrol to power our vehicles. It was very expensive, at the time, € 1,345 per liter; it wasn't free like it is today.

But let's move on shall we… Well… as we entered the gas station, there was a girl sitting on the porch, alone in the freezing wind, seeing such sight me and your uncle Jack discussed about the possibility of giving a lift to the poor girl.

Grandpa: Jack, should we offer the girl a ride?

Jack: I don't know Lestat; she doesn't seem to be heading our way…

Grandpa: It should not be a big detour; it shouldn't be further than Nations' Park, we should offer her a ride, it is the right thing to do.

Jack: ok, then you go and ask her if she wants' a lift.

And then your Grandpa full of courage walked the 20 meters from the car to the porch to ask the girl if she needed a lift…

Granddaughter nº1: Was it then that you met grandma?

No, my sweaty, her name was Thelma - the story of how me and grandma met happened long after this day, we should let grandma tell that one, Ok?

Granddaughter nº1: OK!!! But promise to tell us you too, ok grandpa?

Alright my dear,

Where was I? ... Oh I remember! Her name was Thelma, and after the introduction talk, she said that her white knight's, your grandpa's, name wasn't a good name… What do you think?

All granddaughters at the same time: No Grandpa you have a great name (hugs and more hugs)

So I thought so… well after a humiliating five minutes of talk around my name, we finally dropped, our hitchhiker in her neighborhood - a scary neighborhood, dark and no living soul on the street- right after we dropped her, uncle jack was so scared that he went speeding backwards, to get the hell out of there.

Do you want to know what grandpa learned that day?

Grandchildren: YES!

That your uncle Jack is a wussy! Ha ha ha!

Grand Parents stories don't need to have any real lesson, they're just a way to gather the family around for some time.


Lestat of Lioncourt

Thursday, August 20, 2009

The other place we call home


There's little to say until we open the door opening a new world. We enter and sit down in our little booth, and the chattering starts with no end at sight.

A waitress aproachs asking the usual, and getting the same in return (three coffees, one with cream).

We practice some politics, we enbrace some crisses, loveless jokes and crushes are the best and the most comun; all is faced with laughter and tears.

There's no piano man, but there's a song everytime.

We go while the sun is still down, but we promisse to comeback everytime. Our Thanks to our second home, City bar

Lestat of Lioncourt

Getting Old

Their song




All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do...

You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do


All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true...





"And he finally stopped playing their song, when he realized he was dancing alone"

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

I’ll tell you what you are…

I can tell you "you're wrong", but that doesn't make me right, you know this so well you take every of my regards, as you should do to does coming from a mad man; you nod say "It's alright….huh hum", than you ignore it and take another shoot at it.

We all live empirical lives, and all we know it's part of past experiences or things we read about in the news, it's not much…(the world is too big to fit only in one life time), but we keep breaking through, searching for new things, asking the same questions to get different answers, we do what we can.

People advice you for free, and so do you to others. There's nothing wrong with the giving, the great responsibility lies on the taker; no one is perfect – not even for a brief second - we all live with shit pilling around us… getting it together is no solution, give yourself a break every other time and for once forget where your swimming, I sure you'll be able to figure out a way to come back shining as new.

We're all young souls and love is nothing more than the education we receive and then pass it on to others. You love and are loved by family and friends, because whatever it happens no matter how much time it takes you will be able to always come back to them, and be welcomed like the prodigal son – the one who was lost and found his way.

You wish for passion has does every young soul such as yourself (me and deWinter included), don't rush it… in nature everything takes its time, and there's nothing more natural than passion; don't worry you'll get your chance to join tow unique diamonds, both flawless and both shiny as the strength of you're pumping heart

Saturday, August 15, 2009

You Promised Me!!

In our society,one thing that pops out is how often we promise things and how often we don't stick with it.. It's like it meaning has been changed into something else.
I don't know about you, but When i think of promises, i think of something that we swear to stand by, on our word. If we say we'll do it, we should definitely do it [that is also why we should only promise what we can keep].Otherwise, our word goes from meaningful to meaningless, just like that..

And when that happens,how can we expect people to trust us again? Or, why do people trust us again?
The sad truth about why people don't get really pissed when someone breaks their trust is because everyone know everyone has, at some point, broken that tie and deep, deep down we feel like we had no moral at all to judge others. But then,one of two thing happens.

1)You've always managed your knowledge based on certain values and you stick by them so blindly that you think breaking some promises is OK. In that case, you either get lucky and the person you screwed over understands you or you get no longer the trust-worthy label.

2)You don't like breaking your promises and when you do, by reasons that are just as pointless as any others, you feel really bad and tell the one you've hurt what you've done, expecting nothing but a clean conscious.

I get there is no being straight 0 or 1, but is the code you've creating step by step that defines who you are, and that my friend is totally up to YOU.

We all know there is no being perfect.


Anyway, all this thought was started when i watch "Nothing but the truth" [It's available online]. The movie is just unbelievable great and the history goes by just because a woman decides to keep a promise.




Staying by your beliefs just like she stood by hers is THE dream!

She's no longer perfect

“She lacks the indefinable charm of weakness.”

Sound Track