kļūt par Balsīm

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.30 at 12:26
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Ņirgāšanās ir veids, kā pasargāt sevi no šizofrēnijas saasinājumiem Stokholmas sindroma apstākļos. Profilaktiska verdzības terapija.

Posted by [info]peetersiilis in [info]vajag on 2015.08.30 at 11:41
Varbūt kādam skumjš un nelietots stāv vīriešu velosipēds, kas alkst pēc jauna saimnieka, kas diendienā to izripinātu?
ļoti vajadzētu steidzami, jo veco diemžēl kāds pa nakti piesavinājies. :)

Posted by [info]iive on 2015.08.30 at 11:33
sāka trakoti sāpēt galva, nekādus pretsāpju līdzekļus neatradu. vilks, pa pusei aizmidzis, ieteica iedzert šņabi.
no šņabja vien kļuva nelabi.
un sajūta ir tāda, ka "fuck off, reibum, es gribu, lai nesāp".
un tagad kļuva pavisam nelabi no tā šņabja.
šis tiek ierakstīts sūdīgo padomu lādītē.
bet vismaz skaisti aprasoja glāzīte, un šņabis skaisti lija, kā tāds medus.

Posted by [info]brokolis on 2015.08.29 at 12:04
caur manām acīm iztek visa dzīve

soušlaizīšana

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.29 at 05:23
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Nu jau kādu brītiņu ir tāda mode - padebili džeki post-tīneidž krīzes vecumā, kuri uzstāj uz to, ka KRISTIETĪBA IR SŪŪŪŪDS!!! un ES TICU TIKAJ ZINĀTNEI!@!, nu, var arī ne pālī, bet tas viss nonāk līdz tam, ka "Es ticu Einšteinera realitivitātes teorijai, bet saprast, sorī, nevaru, tur tad jāiedziļinās". Jaunā atmoda, ej tu nost, tas pats vēzis citās kulītēs. Katrai jaunajai masu psihozei šķiet, ka beidzot rasta izeja no nebeidzamā pagātnes stulbuma. palmface.png

putekļsūcējs

Posted by [info]virginia_rabbit in [info]par_velti on 2015.08.28 at 21:29
vecs, ilgi lietots siemens super-electronic 320 putekļsūcējs. jaudas slēdzis salauzts - visu laiku visstiprākajā režīmā strādā. bet lietojām bez probl. ar papīra maisiņiem. vnk paņēmām citu - ar ūdens filtru.

Bēbīšu mantiņas

Posted by [info]kashadura in [info]par_velti on 2015.08.28 at 11:06
Sainītis ar ārkārtīgi glītām drēbītēm (rāpulīši, bodiji) jaundzimušai meitenītei. Manai jau par mazu.
Ja ārkārtīgi gribās izteikt pateicību, var man uzdāvināt vismaz metru garu jostu jebkādā stāvoklī.
Bikses krīt nost.

dieva vārdā

Posted by [info]intenormal on 2015.08.28 at 03:13
Current Music: Refused - Dawkins Christ

apskaužu dzintaru par spēju turēties pie šādas loģikas...

"Nav aktuāli, ticēt Dievam vai ne, jo viss pastāvošais ir skaidrs pierādījums Dieva esamībai."

zaibis, ne?

infas avots

Saprāta balss

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.27 at 19:59
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Vo, beidzot dabūju paskatīties, kā Donātam gājis televīzijā.

kāja gāja, liela māja

Posted by [info]intenormal on 2015.08.27 at 16:50
Current Music: Jumprava - Šeit Lejā
a vot kakovo huja man vienkārši sāp kāja? reimatisms? artrīts? vai kas tur vēl par egzotiskiem zvēriem var būt, bet tak anyway, manā vecumā humanoīdam šitādām kaitēm vēl nevajadzētu manifestēties.

Posted by [info]rubija on 2015.08.27 at 16:32
Nekur nav zvanīts, ka Džeims Bonds nav bijis gejs visu šo laiku.

Vēlreiz. Lētāk :)

Posted by [info]terracotta in [info]pa_leeto on 2015.08.27 at 13:40
Atvainojos, ka postoju vēlreiz to pašu. Ļoti gribas atbrīvot vietu plauktā, un tikt vaļā no:

1. Dio - The Collection 
2. King Diamond - Nightmares in the Nineties 
3. King Diamond - The Graveyard 
4. King Diamond - The Spider's Lullabye 
5. King Diamond - Abigail II 
6. King Diamond - House of God 
7. King Diamond - Give Me Your Soul, Please
8. King Diamond - The Puppet Master 
9. Mercyluf Fate - The Bell Witch 
10. Grave Digger - The Grave Digger 
11. Ajatarra - Kalmanto 
12. Saxon - The Very Best Of
13. Scorpions - The Essential 

Katrs 1 Eur
Savulaik pirkti kolekcionēšanas priekam. Visi lieliskā stāvoklī, izmantoti vien pāris reizes.

Ja interesē -->  terra696 [et] inbox.lv

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.27 at 11:40
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Cilvēkiem, kuri sūta radiosveicienus, ļoti vajag internetu.
Vai internetam vajag viņus - par to nākamās nedēļas raidījumā, ja Tas Kungs mums to ļaus (c)Tālis.

Ādas rullis

Posted by [info]picums in [info]par_velti on 2015.08.26 at 23:23
UPD: Paldies par interesi, āda atradusi savu jauno "valkātāju"!

Kādam patīk vilkt ādu par acīm, apstrādāt, taisīt lielus un mazus pigorus?
Varu piedāvāt pieklājīgu rulli plānas ādas gaišā krāsā. Par kvalitāti nemāku spriest, pati nedarbojos, tāpēc nav vajadzīgs. Pašam jāsavāc Rīgas centrā abiem ērtā laikā.

atmosfēra

Posted by [info]intenormal on 2015.08.26 at 15:12
Current Music: Weeping Willows - True To You
vakar iegāju ļeņingradā, jo negribēju iet līdz pat mājām, kad līst. pēc dažām stundām devos mājup un tāpat izmirku.

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.26 at 12:46
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"RIGA TV 24 - Intervija par marihuānas dekriminalizēšanu Latvijā notiks tiešraidē 26.08.2015. plkst. 13:00 http://rigatv24.lv/


p.s.
pašam flešs neiet, strīma linkus nedod (t.i., tie neiet - rtmp://159.148.5.51:1935/tv24_live/tv24_1 ; rtsp://159.148.5.51:1935/tv24_live/tv24_2), pastāstīsiet, ko rādīja :3

laikus vajadzēja pārbaudīt, vai ne. zinātu, ka nedarbojas, aizsoļotu līdz studijai paskatīties.

varbūt ieliks savā jūķūbā

Posted by [info]lavendera in [info]vajag on 2015.08.26 at 11:42
Varbūt kādam uzkrājušās, aizņem vietu un nav kur likt divlitru vai pusotra litra stikla burkas? Labprāt tās pievākšu un lietderīgi izlietošu :)

Posted by [info]rubija on 2015.08.25 at 23:28
Zoldners.

mea maxima culpa

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.25 at 21:46
Current Mood: cilvēki ir dažādi. lai.
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Redzu cauri un kļūdaini pieņemu, ka nespēju saredzēt galveno.
Nav tur galvenā.
Tērēju laiku, meklējot to, kas ir tepat.
Galvā.
Krūtīs.
Vēderā.

Chief Seattle to @president Franklin Pierce, 1855

Posted by [info]po on 2015.08.25 at 20:57
Current Mood: why violence
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THE GREAT CHIEF in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. The Great Chief also sends us words of friendship and good will. This is kind of him, since we know he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer, for we know if we do not so the white man may come with guns and take our land. What Chief Seattle says you can count on as truly as our white brothers can count on the return of the seasons. My words are like the stars – they do not set.

How can you buy or sell the sky – the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. Yet we do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water. How can you buy them from us? We will decide in our time. Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing, and every humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father’s graves and his children’s birthright is forgotten. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the redman. But perhaps it is because the redman is a savage and does not understand.

There is no quiet place in the white man’s cities. No place to listen to the leaves of spring or the rustle of insect wings. But perhaps because I am a savage and do not understand – the clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lovely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind itself cleansed by a mid-day rain, or scented by a pinõn pine: The air is precious to the redman. For all things share the same breath – the beasts, the trees, and the man. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench.

If I decide to accept, I will make one condition. The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I have seen thousands of rotting buffaloes on the prairie left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit, for whatever happens to the beast also happens to the man.

All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth.

Our children have seen their fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. And after defeat they turn their days in idleness and contaminate their bodies with sweet food and strong drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days – they are not many. A few more hours, a few more winters, and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived on this earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods will remain to mourn the graves of the people once as powerful and hopeful as yours.

One thing we know that the white man may one day discover. Our God is the same God. You may think that you own him as you wish to own our land, but you cannot. He is the Body of man, and his compassion is equal for the redman and the white. This earth is precious to him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. The whites, too, shall pass – perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by the talking wires, where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

We might understand if we knew what it was the white man dreams, what hopes he describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds, so they will wish for tomorrow. But we are savages. The white man’s dreams are hidden from us. And because they are hidden, we will go our own way. If we agree, it will be to secure your reservation you have promised.

There perhaps we may live out our brief days as we wish. When the last redman has vanished from the earth, and the memory is only the shadow of a cloud passing over the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the spirits of my people, for they love this earth as the newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat. If we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your memory the way the land is as you take it. And with all your strength, with all your might, and with all your heart – preserve it for your children, and love it as God loves us all. One thing we know – our God is the same. This earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot escape the common destiny.

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