All day, I roll over witty headings for my inevitable next post. I realized that my humor is nothing but dumb puns, for the most. It almost got hopeless. I'd note odd occurrences or peculiar situations to relate. I had begun the long slide towards becoming one of those guys that mutters to himself, feeling self-important and philosophical. On that note, I'll speak up.
I stay away from my flat, even when I'm not working. I'm usually out all day on the weekends and walking. I enjoy joining tour groups. I never actually make the jump to talking with the other members. The main reason for this is that I usually go along with the Russians, Koreans, and Japanese. I eventually split when thay start to notice that I stop and gawk with them.
That leads to this; Men with guns are patrolling the streets of Staromestska and the metro lines. Apparently, some evidence of a potential terrorist plot against the Jewish Quarter, and, by extension, the city itself has come to light. My fanciful mind calls up Brazil, the movie. This info is most likely coming from people who would benefit from having European countries that are on the fence in regards to the recent actions in Oil Country a little worked up about the threat of the brown people from that part of the world and their intentions to kill everything. Czechs are laid back about this kind of stuff. Their attitude is "don't tell me what to do, and I won't tell you what to do." They're allowed this in the world stage, mostly because they aren't much of a power, economically or militarily. It would, however, be another name on the list that GW could show, saying all the while, the Czechs are cool with us fucking with Iran...
I digress. Everyone's a little on edge, and guys with machine guns are patrolling the streets. I heard a fighter jet fly by more than once this morning, and I wondered if I should go and watch the news. A week ago, I was getting on the Metro at Mustek, and an official looking fella was standing by the entrance to the compulsory ticket area at the head of the lengthy escalator. I felt a rush of panic. I don't know why. I had a valid ticket. It's just that the people were lined up, as opposed to rushing through the gates and down to the trains. I thought, "I don't have my passport. " My mind started racing. "Are they looking for bombs?" I really worked myself into a tizzy, and considered walking right out of the station, when a woman with a variety, I'm talking a wide spectrum, of problems, (Mental, Physical, Emotional, et.al), fell down the escalator, and the waiting crowds went nuts, all whooping and hollering. Then it hit me. They're taking retards to the zoo (I'm only paraphrasing The Dead Milkmen, I'd never be so insensitive and crass). It was a field trip from the asylum. I got in line, and went with the flow.
Where a normal tour group glances at me uncomfortably when they realize they've got an other in the group, these guys, the ones with the wherewithal to realize that I'd worked myself into the middle of their group, stared at me like fucking psychoes. I smiled back, and felt great doing it.
Well, I was going to post some mixmusic for the folks back home, but ezarchive is cramping my style. Maybe next time. I'm all jacked up on some high graged granola, fruit, caffe latte, a little fresh squeezed, and a bazillion endless cigarettes, so let's see what I had prepared a month ago... nothing...
Not only has my cd drive completely quit working, but, apparently, my bookmarks folder has been wiped from my computer. I'm pissed now. More later...
