Note to the new-comer: don't be a dork and start from chapter one otherwise I will ask my friends to tell you off and make fun of you until you cry. Then we can have a beer.
Chapter !% (15):inner piece
Mr BooHoo stuck his teeth in the second-greasiest piece of pizza he could lay his hands on, took a bite and thought about the merits of making enemies. Earlier he had felt an urge for his favourite type of comfort food, that being the greasiest pizza he remembered from his childhood. It was the sort of pizza that would make any Italian go blind from disgrace. Its dough was thin, crunchy and oily and reminded more of pasty. It was small and round and it was sold among various sorts of cheese-pie and sausage rolls, suggested only for people with very low cholesterol. He had to beg his mom to buy him one of these and he could never eat more than a third of it without puking. Thus his mother's reluctance was perfectly justified and he does not hold it against her.
It was a Thursday and we have already been through how Mr BooHoo liked to spend his Thursdays. Unfortunately his fate brought it that way and he had to leave the house and face the world. In the morning it was bright and sunny and Mr BooHoo had slept for almost nine hours. By the time he had to go out though the sky had taken some weight, to put it nicely. Large, greyscale clouds were hanging low. He went to the place where he was supposed to go. When he left it to go back home the sky matched his mood. It was also spitting slowly on everything. Mr BooHoo felt sympathetic towards it.
Let me tell you the in between story:
Mr BooHoo had a professional appointment with a pretentious cunt and he was well aware of it. Yet, for one more time he realized that when it came to measuring human stupidity and malice his imagination was soooo limited! He went on foot from his house to where he was going to because he hated public transport and the walk was not so bad. He would have to pass by the meat market and the china town (if such a thing existed) and eventually he would arrive at a district that used to have a lovely local colour given by antique and whole-sale shops. Lately it had transformed partly into a hipster colony but even that was not so bad. You could get a tattoo, nice overpriced clothes, a mainstream cutting edge haircut or a cup of coffee in a nice environment and be photographed as a foreign rock-star. Not so bad.
He located the exact address and rung the bell. The first thing he disliked was that he had to take off his shoes. Although he liked walking barefoot he always considered it a great insult to be asked to take off his shoes when he had not been previously notified. He did not even take it personally, it just characterized the people who asked for it as donkeys. No one in the western world should have to show their bare feet, socks or holes on socks if they did not want to. It was simply rude. He unzipped his boots and went inside. The space was nice but it was one of the occasions when the decorator has tried really hard to create a feeling of warmth and "positive energy"-as they themselves put it- that the end-result is the complete opposite. For the love of supreme beings! A very few people feel well in white open spaces with white rugs all over the place! In addition to this there was a recording of some sort of Hinduistic chant in an overpowering volume that made his mind go numb. It was the equivalent of free jazz for the drone listener or of heavy metal for your grand-grand-father. The introductory conversation moved around new-age crap. He did say a couple of wrong things himself, of which he was rather proud subsequently. For example he was introduced to a girl with an odd fashion sense whose name started with the same letter of the alphabet as his. The cunt who did the introduction said "you two have something in common" and before he got to finish his sentence Mr BooHoo said about the previously mentioned letter. Non of them appreciated his sense of humor and the only common thing was that they both knit. He also said that he was no longer a vegetarian and had never been a vegan, a remark that made them exchange a curious look with each other.
Another thing that made a really bad impression was the fact that they seemed to think that hand-washing second hand clothes was a good thing. Ummmm, Mr BooHoo felt rather certain that hand-washing does not sterilize things, which is why they usually clean second hand things with hot, very hot, steam. Hand washing them in mild temperatures in his mind should have been illegal. further more they did not offer him anything to drink which is against every idea of hospitality. The cunt also said "let me keep you no further"which can also be translated as "all right, go away now". Something was very fishy. He never made good friends with New Age creaps but these people where rude, negative, bloody fucking vampires (Mr BooHoo had a half-new-age friend who believed in the existence of energy-vampires. He did not exactly follow her thought but if there is such a thing, these people where exactly that).
He got up, put on his coat and got ready to leave when he heard them say "good meditation". A part of his brain sizzled. He could understand meditation as a need and partly as a process but to think that everybody should and do practice it was plainly preposterous. Bloody fascists they were! He needed good comfort food rich in protein. Ergo the pizza. Now he would do the job that was assigned to him. His moral self asked him to stay away, but the robin hood in him suggested that he took advantage of them first. He would make up his mind in the future. Thursday was still there and he had plenty of knitting to do. Knitting gave him "inner piece".
Chapter !% (15):inner piece
Mr BooHoo stuck his teeth in the second-greasiest piece of pizza he could lay his hands on, took a bite and thought about the merits of making enemies. Earlier he had felt an urge for his favourite type of comfort food, that being the greasiest pizza he remembered from his childhood. It was the sort of pizza that would make any Italian go blind from disgrace. Its dough was thin, crunchy and oily and reminded more of pasty. It was small and round and it was sold among various sorts of cheese-pie and sausage rolls, suggested only for people with very low cholesterol. He had to beg his mom to buy him one of these and he could never eat more than a third of it without puking. Thus his mother's reluctance was perfectly justified and he does not hold it against her.
It was a Thursday and we have already been through how Mr BooHoo liked to spend his Thursdays. Unfortunately his fate brought it that way and he had to leave the house and face the world. In the morning it was bright and sunny and Mr BooHoo had slept for almost nine hours. By the time he had to go out though the sky had taken some weight, to put it nicely. Large, greyscale clouds were hanging low. He went to the place where he was supposed to go. When he left it to go back home the sky matched his mood. It was also spitting slowly on everything. Mr BooHoo felt sympathetic towards it.
Let me tell you the in between story:
Mr BooHoo had a professional appointment with a pretentious cunt and he was well aware of it. Yet, for one more time he realized that when it came to measuring human stupidity and malice his imagination was soooo limited! He went on foot from his house to where he was going to because he hated public transport and the walk was not so bad. He would have to pass by the meat market and the china town (if such a thing existed) and eventually he would arrive at a district that used to have a lovely local colour given by antique and whole-sale shops. Lately it had transformed partly into a hipster colony but even that was not so bad. You could get a tattoo, nice overpriced clothes, a mainstream cutting edge haircut or a cup of coffee in a nice environment and be photographed as a foreign rock-star. Not so bad.
He located the exact address and rung the bell. The first thing he disliked was that he had to take off his shoes. Although he liked walking barefoot he always considered it a great insult to be asked to take off his shoes when he had not been previously notified. He did not even take it personally, it just characterized the people who asked for it as donkeys. No one in the western world should have to show their bare feet, socks or holes on socks if they did not want to. It was simply rude. He unzipped his boots and went inside. The space was nice but it was one of the occasions when the decorator has tried really hard to create a feeling of warmth and "positive energy"-as they themselves put it- that the end-result is the complete opposite. For the love of supreme beings! A very few people feel well in white open spaces with white rugs all over the place! In addition to this there was a recording of some sort of Hinduistic chant in an overpowering volume that made his mind go numb. It was the equivalent of free jazz for the drone listener or of heavy metal for your grand-grand-father. The introductory conversation moved around new-age crap. He did say a couple of wrong things himself, of which he was rather proud subsequently. For example he was introduced to a girl with an odd fashion sense whose name started with the same letter of the alphabet as his. The cunt who did the introduction said "you two have something in common" and before he got to finish his sentence Mr BooHoo said about the previously mentioned letter. Non of them appreciated his sense of humor and the only common thing was that they both knit. He also said that he was no longer a vegetarian and had never been a vegan, a remark that made them exchange a curious look with each other.
Another thing that made a really bad impression was the fact that they seemed to think that hand-washing second hand clothes was a good thing. Ummmm, Mr BooHoo felt rather certain that hand-washing does not sterilize things, which is why they usually clean second hand things with hot, very hot, steam. Hand washing them in mild temperatures in his mind should have been illegal. further more they did not offer him anything to drink which is against every idea of hospitality. The cunt also said "let me keep you no further"which can also be translated as "all right, go away now". Something was very fishy. He never made good friends with New Age creaps but these people where rude, negative, bloody fucking vampires (Mr BooHoo had a half-new-age friend who believed in the existence of energy-vampires. He did not exactly follow her thought but if there is such a thing, these people where exactly that).
He got up, put on his coat and got ready to leave when he heard them say "good meditation". A part of his brain sizzled. He could understand meditation as a need and partly as a process but to think that everybody should and do practice it was plainly preposterous. Bloody fascists they were! He needed good comfort food rich in protein. Ergo the pizza. Now he would do the job that was assigned to him. His moral self asked him to stay away, but the robin hood in him suggested that he took advantage of them first. He would make up his mind in the future. Thursday was still there and he had plenty of knitting to do. Knitting gave him "inner piece".
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