Should I be surprised?

      That is the question today? Should I be surprised that the Internet in Kuwait is more expensive than NASA's space programme budget, and should I be angered when I know that it is slower than Micheal Jackson walking through Mothercare. Of course the answer is no, because I have been here for more than four years, and have succesfully blended with the patient and tolerant society which seems to live a life of slowness.
     That is not necessarily a bad thing since I do enjoy Laissez Faire working, and also try not to ask too many questions. But then, some things in Kuwait are dealt with faster than corn through goose. The act of navigating a vehicle with an internal combustion engine through Kuwait city, is a bit like trying to defuse a bomb with your tongue. People here drive as if their camels could go that fast in the past! I've seen camels, and they certainly do not tailgate, or reach speeds exceeding 200 km/h! Kuwaitis would prefer it if their cars drink more fuel than a second world war bomber, and make more noise than one as well. The vehicles should be with a carbon footprint greater than ''Huaneng Power International'' and bigger than the country from where this company originates...China! Or to sum everything up, people here are grandomaniacs.
     But when it comes to Chinese products and vehicles, Bulgaria knows best! Of course, our politicians could not care less about the problems which Bulgarians face, and instead try to polish our global image for the world to see...Not that it cares anyway. Apparently, some fat man with a red neck and tuxedo, found out that Bulgaria was the only country in Europe which does not produce any vehicles or parts for them, and set about filling that ''important'' gap in the economy. So from next year we shall be building many many Great Walls! Yes, you read right! We shall be making the ''GREAT WALL PHENOM"

     It is not a bad looking thing by any means. It sure does look tad better than the Dacias which Romania manufactures. But then I imagine what a car designed in a noodle country, and built by hairy men in the Bulgarian province would be like....Horrid! Should I be surprised? Of course! I thought about that, and arrived to the conclusion that Bulgaria is just like Kuwait, with the small exception that instead of oil, we find old churches when we dig the ground. People do not like working, they'd rather drive an unwieldy SUV, and would show off with pretty much anything that can be bought. So when you think about a car built in Bulgaria, you might just as well imagine one built in Kuwait! It is said that the Phenomenal ''Phenom'' is heavily copied and is based on a Toyta Yaris. Should I be surprised? Of course not! The Chinese are renowned for their ''ingenuity'' when it comes to secondary production, and this is their ''brainchild'. I'd seriously consider buying this car just from curiosity.
     ''Should I be surprised?'' is a very interesting question which can be implemented into many themes and conversations. Think about something, and ask yourself if you are surprised! At the moment I am surprised that I don't have the heart to squish a fly that is obviously naturally dying right here on my desk. I'll let god do his job, and will dispose of the poor soul later!

Fly like a G6!

    What is that all about. Just a couple of years ago the music that was being played on the radio was brilliant. Nowadays, it all just seems to be a mix of mega decibel beats and auto tuned voices. It is pretty rubbish. So rubbish in fact, that I would actually listen to GWAR instead. Do not get me wrong though. I love songs with a good beat, but not something telling you how much fun somebody had a party. Take that rubbish song ''Like a G6'' as an example.  I don't care how some synthesized girl feels, and I am happy that I don't feel fly every night, otherwise I'd be in jail. And why should the participants in the video be preferably with big boobs and half naked? If someone really wants to see flesh and body parts, they'd be far better off on the internet, because I am sorry, but I can't get over the fact that even children like these perverse music videos.
     If I had to classify my top worst songs, at number four will go Jesse MacCartney's new video called ''Shake''. Now, I don't know what were they aiming at with it, but to me it looked as if James Dean found himself in a gym class full of horny MILFs. And the part where he films the girl shaking her butt in front of his Motorolla (Surprisingly not a Blackberry) is a bit cheesy. At number three goes ''Like a G6'' which's lyrics are nothing but nonsense, and the video features a girl which seems to be dumb enough not to be able to write her ''To do list'' on a proper paper as opposed to an iPad. At number two will go Lil Wayne's Lollipop. I am really getting used to US pop videos always portraying the United States as the Holy Grail so that's not a biggie. But a fugitive trying to actually make a song with some kind of a melody is preposterous. He has to thank modern technology and computers, otherwise he'd sound like a 1950's sewing machine. Soldier...Soldier...Soldier...This...Right Here...Is My....Number one choice. Pretty Boy Swag by Soulja boy is an insult to my eyes, and a punch in my ears. Disgusting video, with the lyrics suitable for someone in a psychiatry. And in one part of the video, he narrates the lyrics while looking down, like a first grader on a mid year exam. I bet that if I put on 10000 dollars worth of metal on my neck, and make a tattoo on my left nipple, I'll look as cool as he does. I despise such complexed songs, coming from someone who can't really prove himself as someone, so he actually uses his ''hard earned'' liquid assets.
     These are my top four worst songs of all time, but as I see the pace with which rubbish music is spewed out, I'll have a new list pretty soon. I won't start listing my favourite songs, because I know that half of you are  American, and none of the songs are such. My favourite songs come from Jamaica, Britain and Germany. A strange list I know, and I really do hope that ''cool'' guys realise that they ain't cool no more, and start singing songs with some proper melody. I'll just stick with Bob Marley's Three Little Birds for now.

Revive your masculinity NOW!

 I am sure you are aware of those TV spammer pests A.K.A ''Top Shop''. They flood your hapless television set with all kinds of products you don't want or need to buy. They advertise anything from blenders to body trimmers which look like mutated genitals. At the worst of times when I had nothing better to do, I'd turn into an avid viewer of ''Top Shop'' only because they had a hilarious German host going under the name of HORST! His facial expressions were as fake as a teenager's homework excuses, and his teeth were whiter than white. His bald head coupled with a peculiarly looking earring made him look like an African tribe member with a personality disorder.
     But that was a long time ago, and I bet that Mr.Horst is now busy advertising the Bible in heaven. After Mr. German sense of humour was gone, ''Top Shop'' turned into a repetitive show starring presenters with plastic faces, and women with more botox injected under their skin than Jocelyn Wildenstein. It soon became apparent that the Top Shop giant was plummeting down to earth faster than a drunk on a motorbike, and viewers like me were becoming more or less bored. But now they are back, and holy baby moses isn't their return a shock! If you tune in on their channel right after midnight you get a special erotic bloc, advertising all kinds of things which can help middle aged men achieve the results of their teenage hood. And some of the things are more than bizarre.
     Now, do not think for a second that I deliberately tuned in, so I can buy something that shall prolong my reproductive organ. No, I was just skipping through the channels and stumbled upon an attractive woman with a rather short dress holding a little spray can in her hand. As it is with Top Shop, you never miss something, because they tend to repeat the facts at least ten times, or in other words...for eternity. So I decided to see what was that young woman on about. As it turned out, according to Top Shop, that little spray can was capable of turning even Steve Buscemi into a sex symbol.  It claimed that the amazing blend of pheromones will make you irresistible for all women, and that they will embrace you like a horde of horse flies on an excrement.
     It all sounds too good to be true. But then, even if it works, the pheromone spray has its limitations...What if you work in a nursing home for old people? What if your best friend is a nun? What if you give private tuition to sixth form girls? (Well the last one can't be too bad before you are caught). My point is, you cannot have a long term relationship with someone, only by spraying yourself with pheromones. You can't smell like a favela drainage pipe, and attract girls at the same time. You can't be dressed like a Scottish man, and expect hordes of female flesh to be hurdled at you.
      One has to first fix their manners, looks, hygiene and charm, and if these don't do the job of finding a girl, only then you should resort to using the spray in question, which will most likely get you a one night stand hooker, who you shall later find out is not actually a female. Anyways, who am I to give such an advice, when obviously I have never tried the spray.....Maybe...NO...I HAVEN'T

Smart boards are a pain in the...bottom!

      Modern technology manages to both amaze me, and disgust me. Every time I see someone chatting on a Blackberry, the lucrative concept of flying to Canada and bombing the R.I.M headquarters becomes something worth fantasizing about. Seriously, I bet my left leg that currently there are more Blackberry phones in the world, than there are actual blackberry fruits. Fat men in Tuxedos use it. Baggy teenagers use it. Prepubescent kids use it! But then, when I come to think of it, the Blackberry is the smallest irritation in my life really.
     Hybrid cars infuriate me even more. A tiny, weeny, asthmatic, underpowered, useless, hopeless and sad engine hooked up to the electro motor from a household fan, which is mated to half a ton worth of lithium-ion rubbish. I've been in a Prius, and the only thing that says ''I am an apocalyptic, overpaid, insufferable berk'' more than a Prius is ''AIDS''. You are not saving the planet with a hybrid! You just make it plain ugly. And YOU, in the middle of that human engineering fail, will cause a number of passers-by to hurdle inappropriate gestures at you.
     So when I was told last year that we shall be buying some smart boards, I squeaked with joy because I imagined working with them would make me look like Tom Cruise in ''Minority Report''. I lived to see them though, and the only thing I've got to say, is that we'd all be better off with a ''Remington Atlantic'' typewriter. The boards lag more than Ke$ha's brain, and the pen looks like dog genitalia. And I am sorry, but at 5000 pounds a pop, you'd have to have a floppy head.
     I am genuinely disappointed, but it looks like it is not only me, since no one is motivated enough to use them. We all just refer to the good old white-board. I am in no position to claim that the Smart Board is bad though, because years ago, when schools and offices switched to white-boards from chalk, everybody said that the white-board is disgusting and that they want their chalk board back. So I bet that the Smart Boards will catch up sooner or later. The technology is just not as developed at this point.

Hollywood Tales.

     Since the dawn of time, Hollywood has been the Mecca of the movie industry. It all started out when Charlie Chaplin signed his one million dollar contract in 1918, and it's been going on full power since then. Many do talk about Bollywood and its constant sprawl, but I am pretty sure that most people would rather watch a muscular American say ''Die M***********'' as opposed to little people dressed like Freemasons crying on each other's shoulders. Sadly however, I may soon refer to watching little men with a moustache, because the Hollywood giant seems to be in a great slump.
     You see, two days ago I went to see the new movie called ''Skyline'', and in essence it is just a pathetic re-make of ''War Of The Worlds''. Yes, the special effects were great but then, these days even children can program and hack computers. I take this movie as nothing but a big fat cliche, not only because the aliens looked like human excrements covered in jelly, but because the Actors looked more plastic than a Chinese's firm product portfolio. The plot could've been written by a Chemistry teacher, and it still was going to be more engaging, but it's not like I had enough time to marvel at its awfulness, because the movie itself was shorter than a 20th century silent film.
     Seriously, that was truly and honestly, the worst movie I have ever seen, and to describe its terribleness, I shall use a rather immature phrase that I heard once: ''I'd rather take a dump in my hand, and watch it dry for an hour and twenty minutes.'' Yes, that is how I felt after the movie finished. Now, of course there is a demand for these films, and I do not judge ''Skyline'' because it is bad. I judge it because it is bad but tries to be serious all along. And I am sorry, but the only thing worse than a film starring four people with a set reduced to three cars and a couple of hotel rooms, is herpes. And to be honest, the last time I hurdled that much abuse at a screen was when watching ''Loose Women''.
     The thing is, most movies these days are usually based around women with moons for breasts and cocktail sticks for legs, and men with rectangular cheekbones, and more muscle than brain. It really would've been so much better if there were still films like ''The Shawshank Redemption'' and ''The Bucket List''. Films that are worth your time, and can bring a tear to your eye.

I own the universe!

     I love those late summer afternoons when I walk down the street singing happy songs underneath the warmth of our beautiful sun. I love waking up and being greeted by a happy ray of light gently warming my face. But it seems like all of these jolly memories are to quickly disappear like the fresh morning mist. You may ask why, and shall tell you.
     You see, there are many people who use their genital brain more than their real one, and eventually end up doing things which every single human with an IQ higher than 60 will NOT even think about. But then there are six and half billion of us, and it is understandable that most are as dumb as cardboard boxes. So when I read that a Spanish woman called Angeles Duran has claimed possession of the sun, I rolled on the ground and did not stop laughing for some ten minutes. But that is just the tip of the iceberg! She also states that all ''users'' of the Sun have to pay her a 10% tax. I don't know in what kind of dream she came up with that idea, but if one could make money so easily, the world would be a very different place. So what I did instead, was go downstairs for a stroll and use a bit of sun for free. Damn, it felt good!
     And as I was soldiering on bravely, clearly aware that I was stealing someone's property I came up with an idea. Since you can claim possession with a couple of papers and signs for no charge at all, I decided to become the owner of the universe and everything in it. How hard can it be? Stamp here, Stamp there, and I can charge aliens with a rent tax. I will become super rich and then my Spanish lady friend will be buggered. Hell, I can even claim possession of the non-existent matter! As I was blighted and enlightened by those, let's be honest, brilliant ideas, another one flooded my brain like like Venice in the winter. After I own the universe, I shall take that stupid Spanish woman to court, and will ask her for a hefty tax, because her sun resides in my universe for free. I cannot accept such ridiculousness from the sun! I will be livid, and will shoot sharp but well formed arguments at her! And I bet that I can come up with a downside better argument than hers which was: ''There is no barricade, I support my assertions are lawfully, I am not foolish.''
     But then a new idea emerged. I for example have a huge birthmark on my neck, with which I should be really careful since I can get skin cancer due to sun over exposition. My skin also burns very easily and that always irritates me! What I can do in this situation then, is take that case to court, and argue that her sun has a negative impact on my organism, and that I want a significant amount of capital as reinsurance. Then the Eskimos can take her to court because they shall pay a full tax when they really use the sun for only six months. Then all consumers of electronic goods (all of us) can take her to court when our computers and TV's get rendered unusable due to a sun magnetic storm. Seriously, there are so many things about which that STUPID woman did not even think about, and even though I won't be the one who shall waste time and nerves in court, someone else will, without a twitch of the eye.
     Of course you are not foolish Mrs. Duran! Just wait until someone proves you so. WOW, now I truly believe what Einstein once said: ''Two things are infinite; The universe and human stupidity; I am not sure about the universe.'' I now could not agree more! So please, if you want to be rich and famous, set about working hard! Do not try to become the owner of something just for the sake of it, because a piece of paper from your local notary proves you the owner of the sun, in the same way that my school diploma proves me a Nobel laureate.

Just give me some Pizza please!

     I always manage to blow my mates away with the sheer amount of food which I am capable of ingesting all at once. Many people have asked me how do I to remain relatively slim, while at the same time blending chicken and candies for my stomach to feast on. Well... I shall provide you with an answer. To be brutally honest, I really do not know! I just chew on pretty much anything that can be digested, which shall not cause a sudden intestinal disorder and force me to visit the toilet more often than a ninety years old man with a dysfunctional external sphincter. And just when I thought that the only thing that could stop me from eating is seeing Ke$ha without make up, I found myself in the house of someone who I shall not mention the name of.
     This person, is one of those perfectionist posh individuals, which wear glasses and have their chin up higher than Everest. Or in other words...My complete opposite. I find her quite dreary to communicate with, but her speaking manners were reduced to a mere spec, when she presented me with some peculiarly looking food, which she referred to as her SPECIALTY. I am sorry? The food in question resembled a bloody placenta right after childbirth and smelt like a tomato soup with a slight hint of human excrement. It was revolting! However, because I am a cultured person who does not really illustrate his judgment with actions, I set about consuming my portion full of placenta.
     Now, if that is what the French call ''Fine cuisine'' I might just as well proclaim myself as the next Stephen Hawking. And I am sorry, but no matter how much garlic you put in, a snail remains a snail! Of course, my tongue sent distressing signals to my brain ordering it to bring the consumption process to a halt , but I just couldn't, because the ''COOK'' had her eyes on me like a hyena. She asked me if it was good, and I gladly lied. There however, was one clear upshot to all of this. The sense of achievement when you manage to accomplish something which you thought was impossible, is immense! Yes the aroma in my mouth was worse than a tramp's armpit, and yes, I was quite sure that what I just ate had created a welcoming habitat for a medium sized bacterial flora. But then again, I felt like a Russian dissident who just escaped the deadly knives of the KGB.
     So there is your answer! I eat a lot because fast food is tasty, and has no apparent effect on my body shape...YET! However, I do not eat a lot if I have some snails and sauces served on my plate which taste as if a skunk died in a pool of radioactive material.  If you don't believe me, spend some money on what some call ''REAL CLASSY'' food and I bet that most of you will leave with a bad taste in your mouth, but full of pride. Maybe that's why such food caught on...Because people felt proud of their achievement.

Hair can cure cancer...Yes it can!

    The most pristine form of charity I have ever witnessed, is the ''Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation'', who give out their fortune for just about anything. Of course I can't be entirely sure the money will be assimilated properly though. In this day and age, I won't be surprised if they are swallowed by a couple of naturalist men called Sir David Attenborough and Al Gore, to help save a plant which no one cares about. Nevertheless, I do support charity a great deal, and have myself participated in some walks, clean-ups, Think Pinks and so on. But I never suspected, that hair can help cure cancer. Yes it can, so bear with me.
     Apparently ''Movember'' is a very popular charity event, about which I am as clueless as a toddler. Not anymore though, because not very long ago, I was congratulated on my beard trim, and was cordially invited to participate in ''Movember''. It consists of some hairy Arabs growing a moustache until they look like a ''Sweep & Steam Mop Deluxe.'' A group of people gather afterwards in a big room, where they vote for their all time favourite Bill Oddie. This being a charity though, means that all the money collected go for cancer research, instead to the best George Clemenceau.
     That is not the reason however, why I denied such a gratifying proposition. No, the reason is that if I grow a moustache, it will just look like a thin veneer of moss. I will look like as if someone drew my upper lip with a pen..I shall look hideous. Not only that, but the moustache in question never gets nearly long enough, and even if it does, I don't want to resemble a walrus when eating. Don't get me wrong though... I'd be extremely happy to help people in need, but not when I have to sacrifice my dignity and look like a desperate Beardy Branson wannabe.
     And that brings me onto a brilliant idea. Why do we have ''Movember'' in November, when we can have ''mo-fame-yearly''. The genius idea behind this, is that celebrities such as Beard Branson, Justing Biebe...No...not him, and Billy Gibbons will show off their beards for charity, and the crazy fans will pay tons just for that. The craze may spread so much, that even Angelina Jolie  may get a beard transplant to fund children in Africa.
     However, many women will object the idea of growing forests on their chins, so why don't we have ''hairlessember''. A competition where we all shave our bodies clean, and the total weight of hair collected, will add up to a certain amount of money from the contestants. Believe me...Women will look better, men will feel confident, and all shall be good. Yes, children will not really fund a lot, but they can support by acting cute. Its a brilliant idea this, but with some limitations. You see, hairless men in a room, is as crazy as mixing Hydrogen and oxygen in a tin can. The results in both cases shall be catastrophic. The can will blow you face to pieces, and some men will be forced to leave the room walking like crabs... especially in prisons where they don't have to be hairless in the first place.
     But when you think of it, charity events can be made up from pretty much anything like writing, singing, dancing, shaving, fighting, swimming and kicking a ball around... The list is virtually endless. So I have an idea that will put all this craze to rest. I shall rise over the nation much like Hitler, and will ban shaving once and for all. Women and children will get hair transplants, and there will be charity all year long, all over the world. Everyone will look like a 1980's pop star, everyone will smile under a coat of face fungus, and  happiness shall prevail. I will ride to the rescue of the Third World nations by following my new operation named ''Face Fungus Domination.'' So be prepared and throw your trimmers away. That includes you Ivailo. :D On a side note, I didn't participate in the outside charity event, and my school never organised such. Maybe in a couple of more years, I shall be able to resemble Chuck Noland on a deserted island.

Evian or Bottled water? What the hell?

      Before I start, I just want to say that I shall skip the reasons on why I am starting yet another blog. It is kind of my fault, and I feel like a bit of a berk about it. Oh well... I shall rephrase one wise Bulgarian saying ''A new bride, new luck.'' We can interpret it like  ''A new blog, new great readers.'' I hope that you will enjoy your time here.
  
     When it comes to music, I do not really care what I am listening to as long as it sounds right to my ears. And should you say, that I am homophobic, I shall inform you that I also like some of Bieber fever's songs. Good for Obama though, because I surely won't jump on to bully Mr.Bieber if I ever meet him. (You'd know what I am on about, if you bothered to watch  the speech of his Obama-ness.) However, there is one type of music, which I can't differentiate. Rock music is something that I deeply appreciate, because let's be honest, 1970's rock sounds pretty kick a**. But asking me to tell apart a Guns 'n Roses song from an AC/DC song, would be like asking me to tell the difference between two match sticks. It is all the same to me.
     And my ignorance sprawls all the way from music, to water. Aaah water...H2O...70% of our bodies. We'd look like dried weed without it. We have to consume it of course, but how much money does it have to consume from us? With the constant annoying spread of snobbism, we witness the release of snob water like ''Evian''. Why? I bought a bottle of it in Bulgaria once, and the only premium feel about it, was the price tag. The taste was..more or less strangely supple, which is not very much to my liking. I am right in saying that I'd rather drink my own pepper spray.
     You shall say- ''But some people want to look good!'' What with? Water? Yes I know the brand name is fancy, but try and stick a ''Givenchy' badge on a pile of excrements, and then pack it in your bag. This will help you realise how you look like with a bottle of water possessing a pink nylon cover. And one ''Evian'' 500ml bottle costs a fortune. It's not like it consists of liquefied diamonds. They don't sprinkle gold in it, the bottle is not made out of silicon carbide, and drinking it won't cause an epic world apocalypse. It will just force you to pee like a pony with diseased kidneys.
     Why then, is it that successful? Well...My theory, is that it is one of the few cheap premium goods. Because when you think of it, everyone can find some money for an ''Evian'' bottle. What boggles the mind though, is why do people keep on buying? If all you want is the crowd to know you are drinking ''Evian'' water, why don't you just fill the old bottle with some tap H2O? It's not like a scientist will come up to you and measure the bacteria content with a pipette. It doesn't matter you'll catch salmoella; you shall look good, and that's important. And there you go...Dimiter solves your problem again in a trifle. 
     These goods with extreme added value, always manage to get my nerves stretched like guitar strings. And seeing customers fall for overpriced junk, collapses my nervous system. How can you think that ''Evian'' water is better than the rest? What makes you think a ''Jaguar'' is better than ''Lancia''? You might just as well know that the ''premium'' Jag X-type is nothing but a Flimsy Ford Mondeo underneath. Companies know, how stupid the customers are (And I have to admit, I am one of them) and release overpriced manure, which is a total write off in two years. But customers still flap their heads around it, like the dress of a drunk opera singer.
     But I have an idea...Let us all go back to the forest and have twelve babies, eat leafs, live in a cave, and hunt penguins. How enjoyable would that be?