UFO landed - End game

I walked out from the office

I saw them landing. Their futuristic space cruisers gently touching the ground.

I was not in an "alien friendly" mood. UFO hoax pisses me off the same way as national movement warriors, conspiracy theories or managers, who float above all working people.
I was afraid, that they would approach me with their arms full of eternal spacial love.
I wandered away, into deserted plains of Madrid suburbs, climb over the hill and got into the bar.
There was a man with tattoo all over, a skeleton face behind the glass and two rattlesnakes.
I felt good.
I wrote some slimy poetry and fell out.
Aliens already started to spread havoc on the streets.
It arrived to me.
"I am an UFO and I bring you eternal love from the sky," said and gave me his dead, wet, cold, fish like small hand.
I passed him by, paying no attention to his prolonged bullshit speech.

Clash with police

The sun was shining. I headed towards my car. Then I realized the door was open. What the fuck, I must have left it open yesterday… shit… I must have been pretty drunk… oh well, that means everything’ll be completely cleared out.
Some legs were sticking out of the car.
I saw a man going through the glove department.
I couldn’t believe it, fucking asshole, WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS!!!
I got pissed.
I ran to the car.

I had no idea what I was going to do. I grabbed the door and slammed it as hard as I could. The man inside was trapped. He began to scream in pain. I was holding onto the door and almost not breathing. NOW WHAT!? I watched the man inside the car. I assumed he’d try to push on the door from the inside but he wasn’t at all. Instead he was looking for something in his breast pocket. Oh fuck, he’s reaching for a gun!!
He was having a hard time doing it though because his body was caught between the door and the car frame.
I looked up at the window of a house above. Something was going on there. I saw the old lady who lives gesticulating.
I looked back in the car. The guy was pulling his hand out of his breast pocket.
I leaned on the door with all my strength to cause him as much pain as possible.
The guy was screaming but eventually managed to pull his hand out. He was holding an ID. The letters read: Police of the Czech Republic. Another guy appeared in the building window and said:
“Police, hands up!”
He said it just for the heck of it because he didn’t have a gun.
Jesus fucking Christ… NO… I can’t believe this, what the hell’s going on…
I released the door and the man tumbled out of the car.
He leaned against the car and said:
“Your ID, driving license, and registration from the car.”
He put his ID back in his pocket, so I had no idea if he was a cop or a thief.
Because I grew up in a police state, I began to cooperate immediately.
They went through my information for a while. Meanwhile I found out that the old lady I saw in the window knew them and was their friend… they managed to get me where I belong, on the defensive, they were threatening to take the car away because it wasn’t locked… and some other bullshit.
“And what were you looking for in the glove department?”
“Anything,” the cop answered.
I registered his look towards his buddy and my knees buckled under me. He wasn’t taking anything from there, he was PUTTING THERE something!
They realized that I realized.
“All right, here’re your papers, next time, keep your doors locked… lock your little car,” said the one I had pinched with the door not that long ago.
They disappeared around the corner. I looked up to the apartment window where one of them was before. I saw the silhouette of the old lady behind the curtain. I’m sure she was the one who called them, she wants to destroy me for some weird reason, they planted drugs in my car or something else… and in few seconds different cops with sirens will rush to the scene, and I’ll be fucking SCREWED.
I jumped inside of the car and opened the glove department. Nothing. Then under the seats. Nothing. In the doors. Nothing. Nothing whatsoever. I calmed down. I heard a siren, it was getting closer. I felt a jabbing in my heart. That’s it, this is the end. Eight years for drug dealing, no parole. My whole body trembling, I was feverishly trying to find out where they put it…
And WHO is it that wants to destroy me???
A police car emerged from behind the corner. I knew that if I farted at that point, I’d definitely shit in my pants.
The car passed by. Nothing happened, the cops weren’t even looking outside. I stood alone on the street once again.

DererBand

DererBand played in the czech rock bar Na Slamniku on Monday, 10.12.2008.
DererBand still doesn't have a percussionist, but does have a dancer.
That's very good.


DererBand plays around one hour. Those songs are fairly funny, sound like mix of James Blunt, Madonna and Motorhead. But it's mix of Derer, Mandelik(guitar) and Mach.

The crowd were by the bar, and other people dancing.

We kept in mind the importance of the DATE so we performed our best. best. dot.

If we rip the text apart, we get over Challenge Yourself never be me up to the catchiest refrain: Esta nuestra calle, no venderan, Esta nuestra calle, no pasaran.

Our aggressive, no-compromise attitude made DererBand one of the instigators of the developing CZ pub rock scene, but our idiosyncratic approach rarely follows any single musical genre with the group exploring a variety of musical styles including electro, latin, punk rock, gothic rock, and new wave through to the pop

From Charlie, water blue eyes and big belly up to poetic Had to kill her.

From Mexico city, band will take us through the jungle by it's dead percussion up to Argentina, where everybody has got Camisa negra with Honey.

Honey is made of an old stupid rhyme honey-money, which is propably still an expression for a sense of life for someone. Yes.dot.

Funny man, underlined by it's apparent absurdity and a genre obscurity, would set out on the trip to rape Little girls into Czech republic.

Meditative Road can't save a total crash of the decadence.

Only if everybody would sing Challenger, sandwiches and bitches...



http://www.myspace.com/httpwwwmyspacecom141961631

Letters from Ireland

My dear, I've been writing these notes during my journey to make the best of the flight from Prague to Dublin.
And than I´ve continued writing too...
I always write a diary, maybe once I become a novel writer!
My visit to the country of patriots is not accidental. Certainly you remember, my dear,when we talked about patriotism and love for a nation.
An when I said the Irish whiskey is the best.


I don't drink Irish whiskey, rather I do sympathize with these people. Nation who loudly and clearly voted against European euthanasy & anarchy.
Against demons of a new dictate of social para-intellectuals.
I love these folks who love that whiskey.
I feel like one of them.
But, that's enough...

I met the prime minister yesterday. I've asked him whether he plays tennis.
He answered NO, but complained about his nickname.
My dear, I've got no clue of what does that mean...BIFFO. (big,ignorant, f...er,from Offaly)
But I told him I feel to be a Biffo too.
Perhaps it means... irish dissident, and I feel like such a dissident too!
Than he said some call him also Gruffalo.(grumpy, rude, uncensored, f...er,from, around,Laois, Offaly)

I delighted him saying I fell to be a Gruffalo too.

Than I lost interest. I told him I lost interest to talk to him, because he said he lost interest to talk to me before.
I called my old buddy from Russia, Declan, remember...?

I know him a long time, he is an excellent fellow. We met first when he funded the biggest lumbering company in Russia.
Already by that time I enjoyed him telling smart about his love for Russians and their forests.
It's impressive he also makes a great business with American army. He made more than 200MUSD like that!
Consider this, my dear!

We could buy our own castle for such a cash!

He is a real dissident and I will always join such a dissidents.

I am drawing to a close...

Ahhh, I am tired of being alone in my battle.

But don't worry, my dear.

I WILL NEVER SURRENDER!

In a swimming pool shower room.

In a gloomy brightness of tile walls of the biggest Prague swimming pool...

Bodies
Young, old, fat, slim, dark, nut brown or white.
Noise of showers echoes from the bodies and penetrates into bones.


Man sits in front of steambath and reads a newspaper. Other man staggers around and gabbles inapprehensible words.

A snake start crawling on the ground tiles. It's not a snake, but a water hose used by a maintenance man.

All of the sudden, water starts spraying from the snake body.

I move a bit away.

Water sprays the newspaper, but man keeps reading.

A maintenance man arrives. He cleans up his glasses and check the problem. Somehow, he is not able to fix it. Water sprays all around.

Propably some sealing...

I observe carefully, what's going to happen.

All of the sudden, the man stand up and screams: "FUCK!" In the very same moment he throws the hose wildely towards the tile floor.
Water sprays up to the ceiling.

Man with newspaper keep reading. Water is turning paper wet.

The hose starts sweeping around like a monster. Spit out water all around.

Allways the same, the inferno comes.

Maintenance man lean down to the monster. Immediatelly, he's drenched throug. He sees nothing as the monster managed to sweep over his glasses.

He grabs the monster, throws it wildely towards the tile floor and shouts: "FUCK"

Man with the newspaper rise his eyebrow. He's got his news dead drenched.

Other man goes by and gabbles. I hear a word "genitals..." He's got huge red wounds on his back.

Somebody stand right beside me and observe monster and maintenance man wrestling. Monster-snake winning...

"Fun house" he breathes out and leaves.

I move towards the showers. Someone beside me vocalize sounds like a wild boar.
He soap himself, than lies down and start tossing himself around and grunting.

I check what's up with the monster.

Totaly drenched maintenance man explains to the man with the newspaper he needs sealing.

Man looks at him with an amazement.

Water is all over.

Wild boar on the ground keeps tossing himslef over the tile floor and than shout out: "FUCK!" The shout echoes from the tile walls like a thunderstroke
with no chance to stab anywhere.
I move to drier room.

A man stands ahead of drier and pounds his head at the wall.He keeps gabbling work "genitals."

Warm wind.

Man comes and look at my eyes.

"Haven't you seen my bag, have you?"

I look at him.

Sadly, he sinks his eyes and leaves.

Some kind of mugging

A figure jumped from the cliff. It was a man and he had a knife. He had a big advantage because we were in slow-mo but he was as fast as lightening.
Suddenly, John had the knife at his throat.

I glanced at the cliff, the woman, who was there just few seconds ago was gone, and instead there was a man. I felt time swirling all around me.
“I’m nuts, I’ll kill you!” shouted the man with the knife. Other than that, he wore just a pair of dirty boxers.
“I must be nuts,” I said unintentionally.
“I don’t care about nothing!”
I saw the knife on John’s throat, so I began handing over my things. I didn’t feel sorry for them at all. I was curious what would come next. John handed over his backpack.
Suddenly, another man showed up and told us not to make any stupid moves, otherwise he’d kill us. I had no desire to make any such moves, so everything was just dandy.
“Just to get some chow,” said the Robin Hood as he gave me back my credit cards and IDs.
“Hey, gimme back by backpack,” said John. Jesus fucking Christ, John, this is no joke, it’s a mugging, I was mumbling quietly to myself. To my surprise, Robin Hood grabbed the backpack and gave it back to John.
“So, gringos, this time you get off pretty cheap, but next time…!!” warned Robin Hood. He took the cash and disappeared. Where, I have no idea. He just suddenly wasn’t there. The same with the other man.
We looked at each other and time was once again running at normal speed.
“Did you see that? What was it?”
“Some kind of mugging, I guess.”
We were a few dollars lighter but otherwise nothing. Not even a scratch.
“Goddamnit, we should have fought,” I thought for a moment.
“Fuck no, it’s not worth it.”
“That’s true, but… uhh,” some fucking stupid pride was emerging in me, everybody’s a general after the battle.
And than...,we decided to go drinking in Salvador, one of those best places to have a fun in Brasil.

Homeless

I spotted a homeless guy bothering some older tourists on the beach.
Why the fuck is he bothering them, I think I’ll tell him to leave them alone… idiot…
he’s as dirty as a pig.
“You’re as dirty as a pig,” I heard next to me.

The kiosk man was passing me my beer.
“Yes, I know, thanks!” I took the beer and checked myself. I tried to clean it but it wasn’t really working. Meanwhile, the homeless dude had begun bothering some other people, they were sitting next to me, talking. Shit, in a few moments he’ll get to me, I should get going…
“You want another one, son?” Again, I didn’t catch how he exactly called me.
“Yeah.”
The homeless man was looking in my direction, he was hardly standing, had a huge shit spot on the back of his pants, and it looked like he hadn’t taken a shower for at least a couple years.
He was skinny but his arms were full of scars and muscles. He came up to me…
“How ya doin’, all right?”
“Sure,” I cracked open the beer can and took a swig.
“Can I have some, I’m thirsty…” I glanced at the can and then his mouth, which reeked.
“Of course, have some…” I gave him the can.
“Hey, amigo, gimme another one,” you old, gray idiot, I thought to myself.
“Here it is, son…” I was looking at him, he was looking at me. I grabbed the new can and opened it. I was losing the last remains of my strength, so I drank it down in one gulp. Without any other words I promptly received another one. Everything was starting to look much better.
“So you fight, huh?” the homeless man asked. I contemplated the question for a moment and then truthfully answered yes. He began doing steps and thrusts in front of me. He told me that he used to teach Kung Fu. Years of drinking hadn’t robbed him of it, even at this stage he still had the MOVES.
He sat down next to me and said:
“When I was a boy, I spotted a girl from a neighboring village, beautiful as a picture.”
Shit, now he’ll start telling me the story of his life.
“I went to see her and told her she was beautiful. It was about a hundred miles from here, up in the mountains. Back then, I was living with my seven brothers in a three by ten feet brick hut, in the middle of the jungle. When I returned, everybody was laughing at me. I lay down in the corner, rolled myself up into a ball, and fell asleep. I was happy. The next day, when I saw her, she smiled at me.
I was happy, she was thirteen, I was fifteen. I went to see her again and asked her if she wanted me. She smiled and said yes. I went to see her dad in a village nearby and told him I wanted his daughter.
He told me I had to be nice to her. And from that time we lived together.
I’d work in the forest, teach Kung Fu, which I learned from books, in the evenings, and come home late. We were happy. When I’d come home late at night, she’d always smile at me, stroke my cheeks, and sing me beautiful songs.
She always had dinner ready, even when bad times came and there was nothing to eat and hunger was everywhere. I’d buy her beads in the market behind the village, and sometimes I even ventured to the city, to get dishes, fans for her dresses, and parrot feathers just for decoration. Then, one day, I came home and she told me not to be angry but that she had a headache and couldn’t be with me.
After that she had headaches more and more often, pretty much all the time when I got home she had one, but she’d take a pill and it’d go away. I was begging her to see a doctor, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She said the pills helped ease the pain.”
He looked at me and said: “You know, I lost what I loved the most in life.”
I was fixated on him.
“She died three years ago, I lost the thing I loved the most in life.”
He gave me a long stare once more then walked away.
I felt bad… what kind of prick am I, I had wanted to tell him to stop bothering some fucking stupid tourists…
I had one more beer to collect some strength and went home. That night I was really tired but couldn’t fall asleep. I finally fell asleep in the morning when the birds were already singing.
They kept singing the same song over and over again. So, I eventually got up, made myself a cup of coffee and watched the lake and mountains from our balcony. The rowers were already out on the lake, again.
They always are.
The sky was dark blue, as blue as it could be, the bright white statue of Jesus against the blue sky and on top of the dark wooded hill looking like the greatest kitsch picture one could imagine.