Ok, here I am again writting in Flucking english. It is hard for me to adapt myself to speak 3 languages everyday. The world is a bloody babel tower... but oh well... I am definitely not in a good mood today and I am almost removing my own authorisation to write something in this blog that I will regret. But my humour get's pretty harsh when I am in a bad humour (for those who cares, this is the best way to know when I am not in a good mood... either I will start to use my woody allen humour either I will look for the closest guitar around and starting to play it furiously).

It annoyes me to talk about myself, since it looks too egocentric, but today's subject seems to be ME, MYSELF and I or MY EGO AND IT'S MASTURBATIONATIC RELATIONSHIP. I don't fucking know why people needs to go to smelly countries (like India) to meet their own. The best way to meet your own is buying a ticket to Paris (by the way, much cheaper for those who are not already in india). First. Paris is the best place to think. No one would bother talking to you anyway. In general not even your friends will talk too much with you.... It is clear that people here hates to talk. Second. You will become humble. Simply because in the rare conversations that you will have with other people they will masacrate your ego either trying to correct your french either being cinical. Third. You won't get any (unpaid, free) sex with a frenchie. So, possibly this will bring you to Nirvana (somehow)... actually the other way to be lead to Nirvana is buying your place into Nirvana Lounge (a boring pub where no one get's drunk and everyone gets poor) Forth. You will get poorer in Paris, specialy when you think that a single cup of coffee justifies the 5 euros (10 reais) you are paying for it... After getting poor you will start to convince yourself about how the world is so materialistic and so on....

So... Ok, I admit... My weekend was a drag... My weekend was a drag because of the french people.... My weekend was a drag because of the french people of the female sex... Now you will possibly understand (if you understand not try to substitute the world female by male.... if you continues not to understand ... hey what are you doing here Morrisey?). Ok, that is it.... I have enough..... I am kindda good looking, I wear the same old clothes but I clean then and they look ok, I am inteligent, funny, and besides I am getting poorer everyday I can even see some proeminent career coming up.... But I just don't understand girls (in general) french girls (in specific)....Why am i so complex? Why is my creativity a spell that leaves me alone? Why does I don't like the people who love me and the people whom I love either don't give a damn either is geographicaly unaccessible? Why does I have such a good taste? Why can't I just get like the ugliest and fatest girls and marry them? High hopes brings deep desilusions.....