Soy Milk Tastes Like Crap

Remember how I wrote a while ago about how I think I'm lactose intolerant now?

So I decided to buy soy milk a week ago, since I could not drink regular milk; but I didn't have the courage to drink it until yesterday.

So there I was, innocently pouring the white/brown soy milk in my cup, humming a beautiful melody of sorrow and joy. I sat on my bed, with my warm glass of 'milk', to curl up and think about the philosophy of life, or whatever the fuck people do when they are depressed, and took a sip of the soy milk...

What. The. Fuck.

Blah!

BLERGH!

It tastes like water strained with bran flakes. Which is a pretty close description of what it actually is.

People are always fucking on about how they substitute soy milk for cows milk, and considering the fact that it has the word 'milk' in it, I thought that at least it will taste like watered down dairy milk. But it tastes like fiber-water =__=

And the only reason it's considered a substitute is because it replaces proteins, calcium and other shit that people get from cows milk. But, but - how can you have hot chocolate and cookies using soy milk? Well, you can't, your life just sucks now.

I think I'm going to do what one of the comments suggested in my last post - keep drinking normal milk until my body just gets used to it.

A flat tarmac wonder slot

We bulldozed over your grandfather's grave
To build a parking lot.

A flat tarmac wonder slot
With delicate stones layered on top
White lines neatly drawn
As if it were
An immaculate garden.

I have no sympathy
For the dried up bones
Of some old forgotten lone
Occupying useless space
When there are parking lots to be built
Beautiful, elegant concrete stalls
With the flesh of workers
Mixed into this modern art
Delicious, new age minimal art.

Pristine white lines
The fluorescent paint
As if carved in to the stone
Edges as sharp
As the rot on his bones
Each crucible
Occupied by a mechanical miracle.

I push the red button
A ticket to wonderland
I enter and gasp.

The flatness excites me
I trudge in my cheap machine
Into a white-lined slot.

I step out
Lie down
Strewn over it's surface
And scour my flesh.

I rub in my hands
Into the rough cracks
Till my nails are filled with tar
I scratch it desperately
Ready to feel some satisfaction
I come away empty
I claw, again and again
I smash in my teeth
They crack and shatter.

My hands melt, my flesh diffuses
Under this hot, desert sun
Right into the beautiful layers of bitumen
The dark cracks hungrily
Lap up my bones.

Here I lie
Buried
Under the same bulldozed graveyard.

I turn sideways
Your grandfather smiles serenely
And we both finally look up in peace
Obseve the cars roll over our pale faces
The black tarmac now transparent
Yet the people above
Unaware of the dead faces below.

Random Question: If you wrote an anthology, what would you call it?

So if you wrote an anthology of poems, what would be the theme of the anthology, and what would you call it?

For me, the theme would be small observations made by an extremely neurotic person about modern life. And the title would be Modern Poetry for Lazy Bastards. Yeh, I like my good dose of cyanide.

Swiss Hotel Rooms

Everytime I talk about powerless people
I do it in Swiss hotel rooms

So many rotten hands
Emersed in rotten dreams
Built on top of
Crumbling wooden beams

Garden of tinned roofs
And dirty streams
My slow, pathetic feet
Sweeping through meaningless schemes

I sigh.

But soon I step
In to my
Top notch Buisiness Class
Pristine Boeing wing span
In one hand
A wine glass
In the other
A pen and paper.

On which flows my poetry
About this poverty
The sound of beggers
Mixed with the delicate voice
Of the hostess
Her milky white legs
The same colour
As the saccharin happiness promised below.

The soft tinkle
As she places glass on glass
Mixed with echoes
Of the slums below
And the words flow,
As if written
From another universe.

A sterile bubble, if you will.

Jet lagged
Mind shagged
In my high rise
American flat
On this pedestal
Of a wonderful economy.

Turn on some soundtrack
Some edgy new alternative band.

I sigh.

Such a sorry state of affairs
To think of me here
In my central-heated bliss
Delicate snowflakes clouding
The hand-polished Italian window frames
And to think of them
8 1/2 thousand miles away
With out-stretched hands
Skin taught over hollow bones
Blackened feet
Their contorted limbs
Bent, as if mocking my corpulent stance.

I sit down,
Let the flow of poetry
Take over me
Words drip onto delicate lined paper
Passionate cries for attention
To this world's atrocities

Enough atrocities
For me to fill a thousand pages
A river of ink
An anthology of despair.

6 months.

6th page New York Times
Bestseller
Eye opener
For your common fella'
For 6 more weeks
The nation united
Against whatever
These poems cited.

It's all enough now.
Enough for me
To settle down
Feed the dog
Enough for me to buy
Another hise rise
American flat
On this pedestal
Of a wonderful economy.

Such a magnificent, juxtaposed world
Each 100 mile distance
As if etched out from a separate universe.

Everytime I talk about powerless people
I do it in Swiss hotel rooms

Hipsters who don't even know they're hipsters

Fuck off my face, you skinny hipster bitch.

By their very own definition, hipsters should not exist. Think about it - they hate everything mainstream. But hipsters themselves are so mainstream now that they should stop being hipsters.

Anyways, every time I hear of a story about normal, decent people having to deal with hipsters, I get so mad. Hipsters are always eating their shitty vegan food and listening to some crap lo-fi folk band from Iceland, a band even Icelandic people wouldn't give a crap about. And then these hipsters treat my normal, decent friends as if they're inferior.

Next time a hipster acts superior to you, give them a great big kick right in the groin (this also works well for lady-hipsters). Seriously, out of all the subcultures, hipsters are the most annoying. Goths are fairly decent; emos are annoying, but we're getting used to them; hippies are nice people if they're the type who bother showering, although I cannot stand blonde dreadlocks (how the fuck do you even grow them? Dark magic?); nerds are well... like me, so I'm cool with them; and geeks are just awesome all the way around.

But hipsters, they just have to ruin everything for you. They're either changing the layout of their shitty Tumblr blog (which no one reads, because the only content is blurred Polaroid pictures of other skinny hipsters), or slavishly reading a Pitchfork review about some shit indie band, so that they can quote that band to you when you meet them, and try and put you down when you tell them that you have never heard of that band.

Ok, I enjoy my good dose of indie and alternative, but I'm not a bitch to someone when they tell me that they like Lady Gaga or Katy Perry*. I always maintain one slogan in my life: If it is aesthetically pleasing to your eyes, then it is art. This applies to music too - if you like it, listen to it, otherwise don't. Don't be a fucking prick, and just slavishly listen to whatever shit Pitchfork wants to stew out to you. There is nothing worse than someone who forces themselves to like a band just because no one is else is listening to them.

I highly doubt that hipsters genuinely enjoy all of the music they listen to, simply because there are a ton of shitty indie bands out there, and hipsters claim to enjoy listening to all of them. Pitchfork is also a bitch that tends to do whatever the fuck it feels like doing. It only favours certain types of bands that it will give good reviews to, even if they literally put out a pile of crap for a CD.  I stopped taking it seriously 4 years ago, when it suddenly decided that indie hip hop is cool. It might be cool, but fuck all the hipsters who suddenly reached orgasm and started listening to indie hip hop. Develop your own musical taste, bitches.

I used to know these two hipsters in school, and all they used to do is burp out a list of indie bands that no one has heard of. And as soon as a band gets signed to a mainstream recording company, or their indie label gets bought by another company (as it inevitably happens), they stop listening to them.

Jesus motherfucking Christ, they used to make me feel depressed for listening to stuff that is even slightly mainstream. I was so naive back then. Now if someone does this to me, I will tell them to fuck off my face and probably beat them up with a stapler.

When wielded properly, a stapler can be a deadly weapon.

Considering the amount of collective hate the internet tends to give them, you would think that hipsters would know better than to associate with a subculture which is likely to get a bottle of piss thrown at them. But there are so many hipsters who don't even know that they're hipsters. They're just your run-of-the-mill assholes who like to think that they're intense indie kids, while chewing on their vegan cud** (which they will photograph with their DSLR, add extra saturation to it using Photoshop, and then upload it on Facebook). They won't dress like a typical hipster, but they will dress in annoying "chic" - all journalist-like with their scarves tied around their necks, even in the summer, and their thick stupid hipster glasses.

These bastard children tend to think that they're better than hipsters. Hell - they even make fun of other hipsters (but in an "ironic" way). But what's sad is that they themselves are hipsters, and they don't even know it.

They think they are very individual and special. Well guess what? You're a hipster - you're just like other hipsters. And one thing I've realised is that no matter what you do to make yourself an individual, there are at least 40,000 other people doing the same thing as you. For God's sake, the world's population is 7 billion (give or take a few million), did you really think it was possible for you to be an individual? Even if you only listen to Swedish alt-rock folk techno-metal, there will be 40,000 other people listening to the same stuff.

So please, if you're a hipster, I beg you to fuck off. I don't mind if you're with other hipsters, talking about "art" and "philosophy" (even though you don't know anything about either). But don't approach normal people and try to act superior to them. If you do, don't blame me if you end up with staples across your forehead.

And if you're a normal person, who feels like you're being violated by a hipster, you need to put them in their place. Tell them to fuck off, and point them towards this blog post (or any other blog post, among millions, which makes fun of hipsters). If they don't back down, then... well, you know where the groin is.


*Note that I am a major bitch to people who tell me that they like trance music. I also get into arguments with people who enjoy techno.

**Also note that I know people who are vegan for religious reasons. And there are also people who are vegan for other reasons, like animal cruelty or the environment (I don't always agree with this group of people, but whatever). These people are cool because they don't tend to masturbate whenever they see a celery stick, or scoff at you when they see you eating meat. 

Random Music Thursday

No, this is not going to be a new weekly series. I can hardly follow up on my past failed attempts. I just couldn't think of another, catchy title.

Anyways, enjoy some tune-love from me (new music that I have come across in the past week).

The Plastics - Caves

Found this wonderful band from Cape Town, South Africa. They seem like a cross between Ok Go (for the dancing) and The Kooks (the lead singer's voice). They just seem so catchy and great pop fun.

I love the video, but I also find it slightly creepy. Pay attention to the song, is basically what I'm saying.




The Plastics - Rocking the Daisies

Yup, another song by them. Not as awesome as the last one, but still pretty nice.

I love the dancing cardboard robot.




The Plastics Revolution - Light of Day

No, this is not the same band. But I randomly found this on YouTube while looking for the band above.

An indie band from Mexico, playing live with some mariachis. The recording is a bit noisy, but the atmosphere is so cheerful and lively. Well worth a listen, for the weird musical collaboration alone.




Taxi Violence - Long Way From Home

Another band from Cape Town. Kudos to the director for coming up with a music video which is both low budget and cool.



Some days I wake up and feel exactly like the furry dude in this video.


Grouplove - Colours

Hmn, for some reason I always read the band name as Grope-love.

I just discovered them recently, but apparently they have been prancing around the US indie scene for a month now, receiving heavy radio play. I'm loving their debut album, Never Trust A Happy Song.

They come across as slightly-violent hippies in this video. That's all you need to know.




Class Actress (Elizabeth Harper) - Journal of Ardency

This song is so sexy. It's like something you would strip to.

Warning: the video is a little bit sensual, in case your allergic to that sort of thing. It's safe for work, but people get pissed off if I don't warn them about these things.