Thou shalt not slow down… Part 1.
19 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
So as you all probably know I visited the Royal Colony of New Poland and Northern Ireland over the last week or so. I mean, United Kingdom. Also known as New Poland. ;> XD And for the love of me, my love for UK was reignited after 6 years of a long distance relationship. Of course, that reunion wasn’t all fluffy pillows and long talks at night – first I had to withstand spending 24h on a bus with another 16 people whom I didn’t know and frankly, didn’t care much about. Until 10 pm. From 10pm to approximately 5 in the morning, passengers who weren’t sleeping were exposed to full on “13 meters of bus drama” which couldn’t be fabricated even if I wanted to spice up my post. It was a tale of drunkenness, slutty girl, horny but ever so married driver and a bad hair – just to add a little bit more drama. If there wasn’t only 17 passengers on a bus I’d say it was an elaborate way to advertise the new series of Celebrity Big Brother UK. Long talks, kissing and God almighty knows what else happened just behind the back of a driver who actually was doing his job. Then in the morning, when we all came to Calais to board a Eurotunnel train, there were tears, additional bad hair and lots and lots of hangover. Gossip ensued, I was up to date w/ every drama in my co-passengers’ lives [cheating husbands, divorces, 2 caesarean sections, 5 kids, low wages and a guy who insisted on wearing flip-flops and shorts despite the sometimes awful weather] and after additional 2h I was free to take a shower, leave every drama behind and possibly develop a completely new and brilliant BBC comedy about bus drivers. “The Driver Left Something Pointy On My Seat And It’s Dark So I Have No Idea If I Should Sit On It Or Not” is a working title. I know, we’re working on shorter version.
And then I was swallowed by London Life. London Life is fast and I’m really shocked Usain Bolt is not from there. Let’s just say for the first 15 minutes I was too slow for it and think that most Londoners would be able to beat aforementioned runner anytime if they actually had a time to train a little bit. When you have only two brain cells working like I do, it’s really hard to juggle your luggage, people running around you and your ticket which you then have to insert every time you want to get through a little but ever so annoying gate. They are literally everywhere and if not for my friends I’d have no idea when to slap it with an Oyster card, let it feed on my tube ticket or introduce it to my lovely train ticket. And that’s what it is – too many choices. I was literally gobsmacked when a guy at a Costa cafe asked me if I wanted my latte with skimmed, semi-skimmed or regular milk. When am in Poland, I just go in and order latte. Don’t care what kind of milk they add to it. XD
Oh and yes, since we got to trains – as I’ve mentioned in my tweets, for a kid who used to grow up surrounded by ugly, dirty, rusty trains the second class on a regular First Great Western train was like a first class experience to me. Tube is stuffy, hot and sticky but if I ever, God forbid, ended up homeless in London that’d be my ideal place to stay during the winter. Free music entertainment, occasional cute guys and lots of posters for musicals. Heaven, I tell you.
When I was on an organized trip to London 6 years ago nobody showed us around Soho. They just pointed in that direction saying something along the lines of ‘This is a part of London called Soho… So if you look in a completely other direction (…)”. Full blown discrimination, I know. If you wanna sue the company that took us there, am sure I still have their number. In any way, it was amazing. I have absolutely never seen so many gay guys in one place at a time. And if they ever launched an Official Twink Hunting Season I would probably be at the G-A-Y’s doorstep in a mili-second. XD Shame it’s getting so many big names, knowing the usual clientele I will never set my foot there. Gays in Soho could be divided into several categories – the “I’m spending lots of time at the gym to look good despite being 40+” types, then there are members of “I just stuff my face with salads and botox and crossing my fingers that being overdressed and not being able to move my forehead will allow me to pass for 25+” club, twinks, twinks with sugar daddies and [thank God] regular guys who are actually very interesting to say the least. Though, let’s just say, my potential husband never appeared. All in all, thank God for places like Soho where guys with broken gaydars don’t have to worry about being slapped in the face by an overreacting straight guy. I just had to worry about a mad scientist who’s idea of achieving world domination would be to threaten humanity by sucking all of the botox out of people’s faces and drowning them in it – let’s just say being in Soho when that happens is not a great idea. Botox tsunami would kill you instantly…
So, that’s the first part of my Diary of a London [just visiting] Student. No, it’s not a spin-off of Diary of a Call Girl though I kinda wish it would. In any way, hope you enjoy my take on things. And don’t sue me, I don’t have any money. ^^v
I shall wear bitchiness.
11 Jul 2011 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: consulate, US, visas
And it’s not even a new resolution. I usually blog only about stuff that is important to me [believe it, the Red Dick of Doom two posts below was really important and don't let anybody tell you otherwise - I will cut them either way XD] and this time is no exception. It’s about my ill-fated relationship w/ a cute but unfortunately very bitchy gay consul at the US consulate in Kraków. Our relationship was very awkward and we didn’t get to talk much but in the end he was the one who dumped me. I dressed nicely for him, was replying to all of his questions correctly and all I got in return was “Am sorry, unfortunately you do not qualify for a B2 tourist visa this time, sir. Goodbye.” Yes, I had a hidden agenda. Who doesn’t? ;> And that’s how I ended up on the streets, w/ nowhere to go and no way to get there. Or rather, w/ one way ticket to my apartment. I didn’t even go to my favorite restaurant to drown my sorrow in chocolate, alcohol and more chocolate and bananas. Me and the bitchy gay consul were no more.
Am sad, don’t get me wrong. And bitter because apparently one of the best entertainment for US tourists in Kraków is to sit in front of the consulate and watch Poles’ dreams get shuttered. And yes, they pretend they’re eating in a restaurant, but don’t get fooled. ;P Unfortunately, the bitchy gay consul deemed my relationship w/ my country of origin as “not strong enough”. Sure, I moan about it every now and then but assuming that am gonna go there and work illegally is like assuming Jordan has brain – the nice fusion of those two things is basically non-existent in a natural environment. The fact that somebody can prevent me from entering a certain country just because he/she doesn’t like the way I look/talk/my motivation is ridiculous. And frankly, I wouldn’t be too worried – w/ US’ economy right now, Poles are more concentrated on Germany or UK as dream job destinations. I just want to go there, melt in the sun and then get back to my previous shape w/ A/C on. I believe that is not too much to ask.
Now I have to backtrack, see what I did wrong and change everything in the end. In about 2.5h I will know if I got in to the university of my choice. Seeing how this Monday has treated me, am not optimistic though if I’ll get in am gonna get back there and drag the bitchy gay consul to Hell and back again. Believe me, after seeing that many vaginas he will beg me to get whatever kind of visa I’d like. For now, though, am gonna install a dart board w/ his face on it and practice my shooting. Who said I’d use darts, by the way? ;>
[Still] His Royal Highness Queen of Oklahoma and Princess of Alaska, though now a little bit thrown off by the fact that I can’t access my kingdoms properly,
Mikki
iTunes spanks my ass.
03 Apr 2011 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: Apple, Double Saturdays, iTunes, Oklahoma, Poland, politics
Apple doesn’t want us, Poles, to have our own official iTunes Store. Can’t blame them, really – we believe that music should be free to all and those who are actually buying CDs in stores are usually located, brought to some abandoned warehouse and shot to death using a crossbow powered by blank CDs and old iPods.
Well, not exactly. Which still doesn’t change the fact that we do not have as much money as Americans do and while buying one song for $0.99 might not be a problem, for a person like me [who doesn't like buying whole albums, just selecting few songs I like] is a pain in a perfectly shaped tuchus. But that’s not the problem – recently I created a bank account for myself in a very popular bank in Poland: mBank. It was the first of its kind, bank for avid Internet users who’d like to actually manage their accounts from their homes. Got a debit card, got some money on my account. Accessed iTunes via my iPhone & everything went fine up to the point of accepting my payment method by iTunes. Denied. Tried again – denied, please insert another payment info.
And then it occurred to me - uncle Jobs doesn’t want my money. Sure, he’s a wealthy man, but as white people who are trying to be funny 1980s style say – there’s no such thing as too much dineros. So I am shocked and appalled. Just as Zuckerberg doesn’t want my relationship to evolve by making FB messaging system crazy, Jobs doesn’t want my money. Money that was obtained by me via hard work and dedication [i.e. bitching and moaning to my parents XD]. Maybe am doing something wrong? Maybe he got mad at me for not buying new iPhone, instead choosing the used [but not abused] iPhone 3GS?
I don’t even know. I don’t care, life has not meaning to me w/o Angry Birds, Tiny Wings and Flight Control. ;D I’m a sad iPanda.
In other news, I still want to change our calendars – instead of Sundays, let us celebrate Double Saturdays. Sundays are extremely boring and make me sad. Once I’ll become the Queen of Oklahoma and Princess of Alaska w/ Levi Johnston as my king and prince respectively, we will change everything. Even reporters from National Enquirer will be so shocked they will release an issue w/ white front page and a simple sentence: “We give up.” ‘Cause that’s how I roll.
Levi doesn’t roll like that ’cause he’s still trying to get that National Enquirer reference. Let us give him some time.
His Royal Highness Queen of Oklahoma and Princess of Alaska, Sarah Palin’s First Nightmare and Todd Palin’s Future Secret Lover,
Mikki
PS. Will I seriously have to get another debit/credit card to use iTunes? Vote now! XD
Red Dick of Doom.
07 Dec 2010 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: humping, miracle, occasional misuse of tags, prophecy, Red Dick of Doom, sandwich
Brothers and brothers,
On 7th of December, 2010 at 7:30am I had a revelation and experienced a miracle. It was small, red and located on my sandwich. And no, I didn’t get Grilled Cheesus, again [although I really wanted to ;>]. Instead, what I got was this Red Dick of Doom:
Beware, the end is nigh and we have to do something about it. And for now, let’s just shoot a Glee episode about it. Am more than ready to sell them that sandwich. Or go to the US w/ my mum, after all she was the one partially responsible for RDoD. Don’t ask me how, maybe she knows am gay.
Anyway, stay hard… errr… I mean, alert. Stay alert. XD
With hugs and occasional humping,
Mikki a.k.a The Prophet
Oh great, now God wants me dead – Winter Edition.
04 Dec 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: flooding, heatwave, India, MINI, public transport in Kraków, rail system, school, snow
Well, this year was not exactly great for Poland. We had extreme flooding in May [which I mentioned in the original "Oh great, now God wants me dead" post], then extreme heatwave in June [which caused tram tracks to bend and me to have a Niagara waterfall on my back (A/C is not everywhere here, my dear American readers XD)] and now we have traffic chaos caused by – again, extreme – amounts of snow. Or rather, not so extreme since 4 years ago I was coming back from my grandma’s place in a snow tunnel.
The fact of the matter is this – on Thursday my classes usually start at 7:30am. To get to my school on time and not look like a crazy, gay version of cat lady [or our ex-prime minister who, despite the fact that he kinda sorta lives w/ his mother and has a cat still claims he's as straight as they come] I need to wake up at 5:15am, take a shower [yes, you are now allowed to have wonderful images of me in said shower], eat breakfast [if somebody is turned on by that, please - by any means - suit yourself] and go out to catch a tram that arrives on a tram stop at 6:46am. On Thursday… it was a total no-show. It wasn’t shocking – most people all over Europe had the same problem + since I’ve discovered a motorman masturbating furiously while waiting for his tram to get a green light on a balloon loop near the place I live I knew that something was wrong w/ our public transport. But then I discovered, it was free that day.
As the result of that, all hell broke loose and we were couple of hundreds of people short from having images similar to those that are usually featured when people are talking about railway system in India. Something like this:
Well, it wasn’t nearly as bad. But in trams built by Polish firm Konstal there are no photo-tubes above doors so they were trying to close on poor people and, you’re right, poor people didn’t like it. Me? I wasn’t near them but I felt like a canned sardine – Winter Edition. When some imbecile got inside a tram and started pushing people away to get deeper into the wild jungle of bodies, I almost inserted my dick into another man’s ear. And judging from the look he gave me, he’s not exactly a fan of public ear love making. Oh well, his loss. ;> I then gave up, escaped from said jungle and then almost froze my balls off waiting for relatively empty tram.
The conclusion? People, leave public transport to us – guys and gals w/ no choice. XD Have faith in your cars – roads were clear and empty that day. If I had my way [i.e driver's license and a car] I’d ditch trams in a heartbeat even in hard conditions. And road conditions in the city were not hard. I would be in school at 7am, not 30 minutes after my classes were supposed to start. But I love snow. Nothing will change that. *Nothing*. XD
Speaking of cars, my love for MINI was restored. I now love the whole range apart from cabrio – which is too gay even for me. ;P I especially like the simple hardtop version:
… or the newly introduced MINI Countryman:
So, what do we think? And, the most important question of all – who will buy them for me? ;> After all, I need to be safe during the winter. ;D
Gossip Girl Mikki Edit S01E01: Let the War Begin [& sex - it always sells ;>].
09 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: class, class-master, gossip girl mikki edit, Locker War, school
Narrator: There was a time when wars were tragic, but also romantic. Closeted homosexuals would think that by sacrificing lives of many unfortunate straight guys they would appear as more masculine [as portrayed by Eric Bana & Brad Pitt in "Troy"]. Wars took lives of many promising sodomy-practitioners. But nowadays? Now we fight in school, gays are retreating & the objective is to regain control over lockers. Yes: we have 5 lockers in my class. Or rather in the antechamber serving as an entryway to my class. In our story of love and betrayal those closets serve as 5 women. Very square, beige, old & almost rusty women.
It all begun on a morning of September the 2nd, where the following dialog occurred:
Our History Teacher: – I will have to ask you to empty your lockers, my class will be using them now.
Us: Huh? *we all did simultaneous Scooby-Doo*
Then, couple of classes later, another fascinating dialog between us & our class-master took place:
Us: Mrs J. said that her class will be now using our lockers & that she already told parents of students from her class that they will get them.
Mrs B.: – After my dead body they will, I’ll talk to Mrs J.
And with that statement, our class-master declared a war. Many battles have been fought over the couple of days that followed – Battle Over Who Said What, The “We Will Give Them 2 Lockers While We Will Still Have 3″ Battle [& the following "We Don't Want Your Two Lockers, We Want All Of Them" Battle] until it finally came down to dirty dancin… fighting, I mean. The brave soldier of Mikki’s Class Army – sgt Eliza L. – was attacked during a routine patrol by 4 male soldiers from Not-Mikki’s Class Army. They were big, strong & apparently took hostage soldier that’s very dear to our hearts – private Umbrella. Private Umbrella belonged to sgt Anne M. who mourned his loss by smiling. Upon hearing it, The Class-Master became infuriated and turned to higher authority – The God a.k.a The Headmaster. The Headmaster, who is a she [which finally ends all speculations about the sex of God] told her that it’s up to them to decide. So we decided. 2.5 lockers for us, 2.5 for them. The middle lockers’ doors won’t be opened anymore and it will be divided by 1, simple wooden wall.
And even though the problem is solved now and our classes returned to status quo this wasn’t a romantic war.
After all, we got 2 women and 1 half of the 3rd & I – as a gay man – was definitely not satisfied with the outcome.
Holy Sheet XO Episode 3: The Eldorado Sin.
05 Sep 2010 Leave a Comment
in Stories Tags: holy sheet xo, story, unfinished
- Oh come on, we need to get you something special to wear!
Christian was in heaven. At least that was what his general impression after discovering special sex shop devoted to gay community and its needs. As it turned out, he and Ciel were sent by The Devilish One to New York City to provide some insight on how many sinister souls were lost during the 2008-2009 National Soul Hunting SeasonTM. Christian was enjoying his stay in a world that he didn’t know existed as he was dead for 107 years. Or in other words, he hadn’t had sex in 107 years which felt like eternity. Now, watching all those maid costumes, handcuffs with pink puff and other really perverted stuff he knew something that he didn’t know all those years – he was a total pervert. Additional information stored in his brain was: Ciel’s in danger as he’s an object of my desires, what is porn and why there are small scale copies of Washington Monument that can vibrate on sale for $19.99? But the only priority that existed now for boys’ bodyguard was making Ciel wear The Butler costume that could be purchased with a discount with one of those lovely whips.
- I won’t wear something only because you discovered that you love dressing me up. Besides, we’re here strictly for business purposes. – murmured Ciel, keeping his head low as he didn’t want Christian to see that he was blushing because of all this inappropriateness that was going around in Madamme GaGas’ Sexual Emporium.
- Oh yes honey, everyone is saying that. Last time we had here some prince from one of those African countries… He said it to his adviser and after that they used our DoMeGood Room four times in a rough. – said Madame GaGa, the owner. She was often described as “somebody that predicts how Lady GaGa will look like after her career ends just by looking like crap”. GaGa refuses to use the “Lady” title as she herself is often saying that she stopped being lady a long time ago. Whatever that means, our boys were not able to understand it as they never fully understood women and their private parts.
- You heard The GaGa, let’s go. – Christian took Ciels’ hand and started dragging innocent and scared to death boy to DoMeGood Room without even asking the latter about his opinion about being sexually abused the first day of his new life. At first Christian felt like everything is falling into the right place… that was, he felt it before he fell on the floor of Madame GaGas’ Sexual Emporium. Before he knew it, one of her bodyguards was pressing him down and stopping from sexually harassing Ciel. – Jeez, okay, I’ll do it after we’re married… Or something… Just let me go you capitalistic pig!
- Ummmm, honey, I don’t know what kind of “Insults for everyday use” dictionary you were reading in the bath last weekend, but I can tell you right now it wasn’t the right one. – Ciel sighed and looked at Madame GaGa, who was apparently having a great time. He then turned to her and sat on the counter, sending her that long and strange look that suggested he is waiting for something to happen and he don’t belong to the sort of people who like to wait for it. To tell the truth, no one likes to wait, but the boy just liked the idea of being original at all costs. Madame GaGa turned away and went to the back. There she terrorized some old cat, thrwq away some food that was just moments away from advancing to higher level of evolution and running away and finally she came back with old, small and definitely wooden chest. It was light and apparently empty, but there was something about it that Ciel felt the moment he saw it. Something… devilish, some might say. But then again, Ciel and Christian were working for Prince of Darkness, so anything not connected to Hell would be like a miracle.
- This is The Chest. – said GaGa as she gave it away to Ciel.
- The Chest of…? – asked Christian, apparently now freed from being pressed to the floor.
- The Chest. – repeated Madame with a tone that suggested there wasn’t anything after “The Chest”. And even if it was, he really wouldn’t handle it. – You have exactly one day to catch your first soul. To tell ya the truth that’s one hell of a big guy, but you can handle it, can’t you? – she looked at Ciel, but the boy was already hiding behind Christian, who had become surprisingly pale during the last couple of seconds. – Oh don’t worry; I’ve had thousands of cases like yours. And to tell you the truth, you don’t look half as bad and the other ones we had so far.
For the next couple of hours Ciel and Christian – newly appointed Soul Busters – were cruising the streets of rainy New York on a Saturday night in their newly bought ’69 Cadillac Eldorado. It was beautiful and was their first purchase in a new, real world. Upon seeing it Christian felt a little bit nostalgic. He remembered last words his father said to him before that unfortunate event that led to his death occurred – “Son, we’ll talk about me buying you an automobile after you will bring home your wife and preferably my 5 grandch…”. Michail Fiedorov never finished that sentence as his soul left the body at that very moment leaving 20 year old Christian unaware of the fact that he won’t be needing 5 children to get his brand new 1903 Oldsmobile Model R Curved Dash Runabout anytime soon. He was proud of his Eldorado, even though its 7.7L engine lost half of the power it used to have and it generally was not in the best shape ever as evidenced by the fact that Ciel was soaking wet because of a big hole in the roof. But Christian was happy. So happy in fact that he did not realize that one Olivia Cornerstone – 43 years at the time – was on a crush course with a bonnet of Eldorado, trying to escape two gangsters that wanted her money, her cell phone and presumably a shiny new vibrator that she bought in a sex shop that was definitely not Madame GaGas’ Sexual Emporium.
In the moments that followed, Christian committed his first crime in the new world; Ciels’ forehead met with the dashboard of the white ’69 Cadillac Eldorado for the first time and Olivia Cornerstone – now 43 forever – was surely pissed about not getting to use that new PleasureMax Vibrator that she paid $39.99 for.
————————————————————————————-
Note: I know it’s unusually short. Had to finish it. ;D I think if episode 4 will happen, it’ll be much longer. ;P
