Buda / Pest

September 18, 2012 at 20:58 (Beauty, Culture, Other) (, , , , )

Hello everyone!

Long time no see. Last week I’ve been to Budapest. And that beautiful city has now become my ultimate source of inspiration fot this Random Female Blog. It was a female trip – me and a female friend. Unfortunately Budapest is such a huge city that is was impossible to see everything (I didn’t even visit a museum, and only one museum shop!). BUT do not fear: I have gained some information that I want to share with all my dear blog friends.

– Budapest was a Soviet state and each time you see something weird and old, you blame the communists.

– In Budapest you’re supposed to tip the waiters. 81% of that money goes to the state, the rest is divided (between the waiters, that is).

– The metro is so old that you might think it doesn’t ride anymore, but for some magical reason it still does.

– Also, the metro is so loud that you can’t talk to the person who’s sitting next to you.

– Budapest is actually Buda and Pest. The two are separated by the Danube. Die schöne blaue Donau (the beautiful blue Danube). Unfortunately for Johann Strauss the Danube isn’t very blue. It’s quite brown. But beautiful.

– 17% of all Hungarians live in Budapest. That is 1.7 million Hungarians. You notice that: the city is awake at every moment of the night and the day.

– In Budapest you hear ambulances every two minutes. It’s not so weird, what with the fact that Hungarians don’t like riding the way they should.

– Buda is quiet and hilly, Pest is busy and flat.

– There are eleven bridges between Buda and Pest. Hungarians – or at least the ones that live in Budapest – believe that if you walk all eleven bridges, it will bring you luck. I did two.

– Hungarian men are the most beautiful men in the world. I wonder why I live in sad, ugly Belgium.

– If you accidentally make eye contact with an Hungarian, they don’t stop staring.

– Actually they also stare when you’re speaking Dutch. They llok at you with a look that says: ‘Alien?’ .

– There is no place on Earth where food is as cheap as in Budapest. They pay with forint – no euro! One euro equals approximately 285 forint.

– There is no place on Earth where people are so friendly. Of course, we were two young females. Consider that.

That was a little bit of Budapest, right there in that gray, sad, boring room you’re sitting in. Just to spread some joy!


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I Thought I Was Someone Else

December 9, 2011 at 21:43 (Culture, Music, Other) (, , , , , , )

I have a problem with the numbers 11 and 17. Some people seem to like them, but I actually despise them. Same for the word ‘organ’. It sounds ugly. Same for the name Brenda. (No hard feelings if your name is Brenda.) It’s a name for a fat 11-year-old girl -it’s also possible that she’s 17 years old.

I also seem to have a problem with society. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a well-behaved citizen, unlike my brother (for M.C.: I have a brother). No, my problem is: in my humble opinion people should be allowed to express their dislike of the name Brenda. But you never know who likes that name OR who has that name. I don’t really care if people don’t like my name. That’s only fair.

Next to all that (because I really do admit that your last two minutes were not extremely interesting) I want you all to know that I saw Melancholia. If that’s interesting. You can say what you want, but if you see a gigantic planet coming, you run. I was actually quite shocked to see that planet (called Melancholia) becoming bigger and bigger at the end. And then collide with planet Earth.

Footnote: lately, I practised to say the alphabet backwards: I can do it! (do try this at home)

Because I am me, I want you to listen to this very inappropriate song. But hey, it’s still a good song!


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Melancholia Everywhere

December 5, 2011 at 20:07 (Culture, Music, Other) (, , , , , )

Lasciatemi cantare

con la chitarra in mano

Lasciatemi cantare

Una canzone piano piano

Lasciatemi cantare

Perche ne sono fiero

Sono un Italiano, un Italiano vero

We sing this in class. It’s what we have to do every last hour of the week. I suppose it’s some kind of relaxation. As this is our last year, we won’t be singing for a long time anymore. That doesn’t matter, because you get new things instead like living on your own (that’s in 10 months from now), a driver’s license (that’s next month), other kinds of stuff that gives you freedom, etc.

Speaking of which (that’s the opning line, but it doesn’t relate to what I’m going to say): anyone been to the film festival of Berlin? I haven’t. I’m lying here on the couch because -as you all obviously know- I can’t move my leg, so it’s not too weird that I wasn’t there. Anyway, the biggest winner was Lars von Trier’s Melancholia. (I’ve only seen his ‘Antichrist’, but that wasn’t what I expected, plus it’s almost pure porn. The only difference: the age limit is 16+ (I am 16+).) I wanted to go and see it, but -as you all obviuosly know- I can’t move my leg. Let’s call it destiny.

Not only do I want to see it because I’ve just always wanted to see it, but there’s also an actor that makes me want to see it even more: Alexander Skarsgård. Let ‘Google Translate’ pronounce his name (in Swedish, of course), and then try to repeat it.

Kirsten Dunst in Melancholia.

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Twelve and texting till death

November 5, 2011 at 12:29 (Culture) (, , , , , )

What’s the matter with all those little tiny girls texting all the time? Yesterday I was getting us some baguettes (so tasty, so tasty) when two girls walked in. They were both really tiny, really slender. One of them suddenly took her mobile phone (one of the coolest now) and started texting. At that point I was thinking: come on, what can they tell each other? ‘I want the Sparklebumps Disney doll‘ ? ‘Do you already know that shocking thing about Justin Bieber‘?
Seriously. They were like twelve. That’s too young to discuss extitentialism or the world crisis.
When I was shopping once, two girls entered the shop. One of them was a normal, uncomfortable young girl, aged twelve I guess, wearing clothes like she should wear. But her friend was a dressed-up, venomous looking little girl, covered in make-up. She had a giant bag, which she wore as if she was older, and her phone didn’t leave her hand. Texting, texting, texting. What was she saying?

“Hey, do we have to do excercice 3 for school?”
“Yes. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“Yep. What are you doing?”
“And you?”
“PS 3.”
“Which game?”
“Must be fun.”

Seriously, why would they text each other all the time?
Protect your childhood.
Play with dolls.

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Paradox of the day

October 23, 2011 at 17:29 (Culture) (, , , )

“This meat is – eeuuurrgghh – tastes like *insert bad word* !”
“How come?”
“It tastes like meat.”

I’m not a meat lover, no, but anyone should find it at least bizarre that people don’t like meat when it’s not spiced. Otherwise it will taste like meat. Imagine!
Then I start wondering why people still buy meat… It can’t be for the taste. Flavour some tofu and you get the same effect. Without feeling guilty when PETA shows you some farms with bad-treated animals. So why do we still eat it? Some sort of self-deception?

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The Doors of Perception

October 21, 2011 at 20:21 (Art, Culture, Music) (, , , , , )

An angel runs
Thru the sudden light
Thru the room
A ghost precedes us
A shadow follows us
And each time we stop
We fall

I didn’t write that poem myself. I could already hear you thinking: ‘that random female is so good!’, whilst scratching your chin. Alas! This is the end of your illusion. You can gues who wrote this. Unless you’re a fan like me, unless you’re familiar with the person who wrote this, unless you even know his (or her!) name, you’re never going to guess it. His name is Morrison. Jim Morrison. My ultimate idol (I might have said that about Muse too, but Jim is a little more… legendary). Short story of his life: Jim Morrison, born December 8th 1943 was the lead singer of The Doors. They made some influential music, they stunned the world, and Jim (not they) was the most provocative artist of the 20th century. After a life full of drugs, he died of a heart attack in his bathtub in his apartment in Paris on July 3rd 1971. He was buried at the Cemetery of Père Lachaise (Paris), where you can visit his grave, which we (random females) did in May this year.

The poem above is one of his many poems. Just think about it for a while, before you close this page. Sometimes you just have to think and stop for a while in life, before you go too fast. After this moment of intense philosophy it’s time to end with one thing you might not know yet (I’m the one who’ll change that in 3…2…1…): the band’s name, The Doors, was inspired by the poem of William Blake The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. More specific this beautiful phrase:

If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is. Infinite.

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Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

October 11, 2011 at 17:02 (Books, Culture, Humour) (, , , , , )

Here’s a conversation between two of our good friends:
Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson go on a camping trip. After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep.
Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend. “Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see.” “I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes” replies Watson. “And what do you deduce from that?”

Watson ponders for a minute. “Well, Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe.
But what does it tell you, Holmes?” Holmes is silent for a moment.
“Watson, you idiot!” he says. “Someone has stolen our tent!”

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Things you shouldn’t say – never

October 4, 2011 at 18:49 (Culture) (, , , , , )

There are things for which you don’t have any reason to say them. (I feel like I’m ruining the English language by this sentence. Correct me if I’m wrong) Some of them are used so often that it is time to stop it! Here an anthology.

O my God! People say this all the time. Though they shouldn’t. Even when you are wearing pink and panther print. Even with your bag in your elbow. (In your elbow? What kind of English is this?) But worse:
O my gosh! O my what the hell? Why o why would any brain produce this? Because the omg’ers found it too christian and decided to make up their own atheistic version? No excuse. Don’t use it. Ever.
I don’t want to gossip, but *followed by some gossip* If you don’t want to gossip, then don’t. If you do want to gossip, then just confess it. Everyone will be happy to hear that, they will not mind your gossiping – they will join you.
I’m sorry, but *followed by something you don’t feel sorry for* Same here: don’t apologise when you don’t want to be forgiven. Be honest. Really. Just say Her shoes are fucking ugly instead of I’m sorry, but her shoes are fucking ugly. As long as she doesn’t hear you, there is no reason to gloss over something.
I don’t want to hurt you, but – then stop talking. Whatever you say will hurt me so hard that I will cry myself to sleep tonight. Or it won’t, perhaps.
That’s so not done! To say this – exactly.
Just saying Sure, you didn’t mean anything with it? No? Ah, you’re such a good person.
If you don’t mind, I would like *followed by something you DO mind* Yes, of course you can copy my text. Sure, just give me the hardest parts to do. Nevermind, take that chair, I was only sitting on it.
Hi girlz! Boyz! Friendz! No comment.

Learn from this.
And keep reading Random Female Blog – the honour is yours.
Please don’t hesitate to admit some more expressions!

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October 3, 2011 at 20:56 (Books, Culture) (, , , , )

I will start this post with a very long phrase with only two commas:

I think this is a very good moment to introduce a new guy in this random female blog of whom you might have never heard of, but I’m going to be the one to change that, because I think it’s a good idea to introduce a new person (although he already died) into somebody’s life since people invited good ways to tell other people what you’d like to tell without having to call them (you just go on the magical space called internet and start a blog) and so we should share everything we know and we like to make the world a better place and to use our options wisely.

That was it. The new person I consider worthy to introduce in one’s life is called Brian Duffy. He’s my personal idol for ever and ever because he made this picture:


Because this picture is one of the most famous pictures ever made, you (if you wouldn’t know it already, but I guess no one with bad taste reads this blog) should know that the man in the picture is David Bowie, also my idol for ever and ever.

I you must know: Brian Duffy died on the 31st of May in 2010. RIP, sad story. But for him it could be a consolation that you’re always greater when you’ve died. Tragic but true. Cfr. Kurt Cobain, Michael Jackson, John Lennon, Many Others, etc etc etc etc etc.

Next to this (in)famous picture our good friend Brian has made other pictures too, but if you’d decide one day that it’s time to see them, you’ll have to buy one of his amazing books (I have one, it’s called Duffy, fotographer, quite original, indeed, but it isn’t his fault, because when the book came out he had already died).

I will now stop and watch some reality on the beautiful invention called telly, the artist formerly known as television.

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Hey, man, you talkin’ back to me?

October 2, 2011 at 10:58 (Culture, Music) (, , , )

Take him out.
You gotta keep’em separated.
Hey, man you disrespecting me?
Take him out
You gotta keep ’em separated
Hey, they don’t pay no mind
If you’re under 18 you won’t be doing any time
Hey, come out and play

I’m going to sound like Jesus Christ, I guess, because I’m going to tell you that violence doesn’t solve that much troubles. It’s quite pathetic if you’re only able to beat people up. Come on, live sucks for everyone, but when everyone is being nice to each other, it becomes a lot more fun. Oh god, I really sound like Jesus. But in some way he must have been right!

So come on, kids, come out an play some games together. That will be better than beating up each other. Seriously.

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