North Korea Travel Information | Lonely Planet Destination Guide

And anyway, as the saying goes: supporting-horrible-dictatorships-with-your-dollars begins at home 😉

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BENDER IMAGING

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Archie McPhee& Toys, Gifts &Novelties

It’s funny ’cause it’s true!!

There really are people out there who have been so wounded by life, so
betrayed, so abandoned, so very very hurt, that they can no longer have
any faith in themselves or trust in humanity. And instead retreat
scared and alone into darkened rooms behind closed curtains and locked
doors. There trying to find solace for the desperate heartaching desire
to belong and neverending loneliness in the companionship of animals.
Adding ever more and more like a drug addiction in a neverending
attempt to use them to cure a craving they Never. Ever. Can.

There really are crazy animal people who will never again know the
simple honest joys that can only be found in the company of others, who
will in all probability never know any real joy. Ever again.

Who instead are fated to live a humdrum unchanging daily routine of
ever diminishing return. Taunted by children, shunned, isolated, and
pitied by adults. Till death or insanity do them part.

It’s good that this doll exists, as it’s only through commercial
exploitation and mockery of the social archetype that is the pigeon
hole for so many lost souls that we can become comfortable with such
abnormailty and educate our children about it. They could in fact be
bought one of these dolls along with a set of these

and be encouraged to try a variety of different pychiatric techniques
to try and cure Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure of her intense and life
disabling social anxiety disorder.

Another idea they don’t seem to have thought of yet would a doll of
little girl from a war zone. She should have a little brother, and the
little brother should have a raggy bear with one eye missing, because
that always seems to be the case. And the girl doll should have a
string on the back. But when you pull it she says nothing. Nada.

Because she has become mute from the unspeakable horror she has witnessed.

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Ennui – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Ever get the feeling that every song has already been sung? every story already written, every picture already drawn; painted; or taken?

That we are just endlessly acting out the same sad despicable little soap operas, making the same promises and mistakes; thinking, feeling and saying the same thoughts, feelings, and words as have been thought, felt, and said over and over by everyone else who has ever lived down through the annals of time?

That there is nothing new, original, unpredicatable, or interesting left on this planet to make the constant soul wearing grind of existence worth partaking in?

If so then you might be suffering from ennui.

This is a page about it, can’t say I learned anything new* from it however, or found any real joy or excitement in reading it.

* Well actually, except for the bit about Bleak House, didn’t know that.

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ColorQuiz.com – The free five minute personality test!

From the page: “

Your Existing Situation

Seeks to share a bond of understanding intimacy in an esthetic atmosphere of peace and tenderness.

Your Stress Sources

Has an unsatisfied need to ally himself with others whose standards are
as high as his own, and to stand out from the herd. This desire for
preeminence isolates him and inhibits his readiness to give himself
freely. While he wants to surrender and let himself go, he regards this
as a weakness which must be resisted. This self-restraint, he feels,
will lift him above the rank and file and ensure recognition as a
unique and distinctive personality.

Your Restrained Characteristics

Willing to participate and to allow himself to become involved, but
tries to fend off conflict and disturbance in order to reduce tension.

Believes that he is not receiving his share–that he is neither
properly understood nor adequately appreciated. Feels that he is being
compelled to conform, and close relationships leave him without any
sense of emotional involvement.

Wants to broaden his fields of activity and insists that his hopes and
ideas are realistic. Distressed by the fear that he may be prevented
from doing what he wants; needs both peaceful conditions and quiet
reassurance to restore his confidence.

Your Desired Objective

Considers the existing circumstances disagreeable and over-demanding. Refuses to allow anything to influence his point of view.

Your Actual Problem

The need for esteem–for the chance to play some outstanding part and
make a name for himself–has become imperative. He reacts by insisting
on being the center of attention, and refuses to play an impersonal or
minor role.”

————–

Hmm well true enough I do consider kidnapping Beat Takeshi in order to
make a Bohemian anti-war movie to be a realistic goal, not sure about
the rest of it though, especially that bit about refusing to let
anything influence my point of view, I mean how _dare_ it say that?!?

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In These Shoes?!?!


Although it might seem a little improbable that I would have a shoe site, actually I do. It’s currently a complete mess though, since I got it to the rough thrown together stage, and then for the last 2 weeks or so have completely abandoned it. Now I have to fix it up in order to try and stave off everyone here leaving comments about it like

“ha ha ha ha ha call this a shoe selling site? this is a terrible shoe selling site, even in Plovdiv we have better online shoe selling sites than this!”

Which would no doubt be really upsetting and lead to me throwing myself in front of a bus.

A parked one obviously, I’m not completely daft.

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The Pop-Up Book Of Phobias — Larger Image

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meaningless.com: Je Ne Sais Quoi


Je Ne Sais Quoi

Why do I love you
It makes no sense
You are slim and nonsensical
I guess I love you
For all the wrong reasons
I guess it has to do
With your je ne sais quoi
Which is overpowering
To say the least
By which I mean
Your decision to laugh
At all the wrong moments
And your distractedness
And hazel brown eyes
And I also mean
Your crooked handwriting
The notes in your journal
That cannot be read
By man or by marmot
Your tea-stained skirt
And interesting hair
Why do I love you
When you just sit there
Making faces at me
It makes no sense
I guess I love you
For superficial reasons
But that’s not to say
I don’t really care
Or this doesn’t matter

– Aaron Belz –

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meaningless.com: Looking at Ducks


Looking at Ducks

It is good to look at ducks.
I never said that I do everything right.
I said I do some things right
and that the rest is a wash.

Meanwhile, I do look at ducks
and never regret my choices.
Okay, I regret one of my choices,
but it had nothing to do with you,

and it was totally understandable.
I also regret something I said
about stars and ducks and about the sky
looking down upon the earth

the way a monster looks at a child
from within a closet, eyes glinting.
The eyes, I thought, were stars,
and in that scenario we were the ducks.

But we are not like ducks, and perhaps
in a different sense we don’t even like them,
but I would still contend that it’s okay
to look at them, even if a bit fondly,

the way a man looks at a child
who’s scared in bed — consolingly.
For while we are not like them now,
we must realize that we once were,

so please excuse me while I look at ducks.

–Aaron Belz”

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meaningless.com: Dockside Dolls


Dockside Dolls

“Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun.” –The Beatles

Our love was like
A trash can kids threw fast food trash in.

Your beauty reminded me
Of Picasso’s “Guernica,” sort of messed up but cool.

Your body,
A broken pinball machine, kept knocking free games,

But I couldn’t play
Because I was completely formless.

I couldn’t see clearly,
So I crashed into the beach and destroyed everything.

Ants wanted to surf me,
But I was too high.

I reached down to hug you
And in doing so caused another eclipse.

So I mooned you,
And you mooned me back, and we were happy.

Our love
Soaked into the beach like spilled Sprite.

Time went by
In audible clicks.

Tiny, fluffy children
Floated drowsily across the sky.

Their voices sounded distant and happy
Like a memory of Hi Ho Cherry-O.

You stared at me
Through glasses that looked like telescopes.

You said,
In a metallic voice,

“Why did we bring them into this world?”
Each word scraped like a U-boat piston.

I must have appeared
As a blob at that point.

The kids became
Eternal Whack-A-Mole.

Homework glided down and fluttered around our legs,
Pecking at leftover scraps.

“I wish we had a German Shephard,” you said,
And then you exploded.

“I want to be alone,” I thought
As I slowly evaporated in the sun.

–Aaron Belz”

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