Piçalho! Chegou o filho da mãe do Natal, época em que gastamos como se fossemos finlandeses e andamos como se tivéssemos comido a Elizabeth Hurley, mas...Conedo, we have a problem! O dinheiro acaba, a pica também, e acabamos a puta desta bôdega com a mania que encarnámos Jesus Cristo e o Pai Natal ao mesmo tempo, sendo estas personagens, apesar das idades extremadas, imortais.

Portanto, utilizamos o fim do ano para querer ser atingir um simulacro de uma fantasia que é mais profunda que a garganta da vizinha do lado: A Imortalidade.

Como sempre, e como todas as gentes mais ou menos deslustradas e possidentes de um espaço na global rede(sim, é verdade, dissemos a nomenclatura ao contrário), temos uma opinião sobre este assunto.

Achamos que são todo uma cambada de rudes homens e mulheres do campo à procura de uns poucos alfinetes num palheiro do tamanha da Merdaleja que é a Humanidade, esqueçam a Felicidade, é um artificio pra idiotas, esqueçam o Amor, é um acordo entre Jesus Cristo e a Coca-Cola, esqueçam a Boa Vontade, essa fugiu com um espanhol qualquer.

Entretanham-se com as filhozes que ao menos ficam com as mãos ocupadas pra não bater tantas punhetas.

Boas festas e Feliz Ano Novo seus hologramas de fodilhões!

- Buru "Follent le Nöel" Har

JURAMOS LEALDADE À RAINHA FRAGG E AO SEU PODEROSO ESTADO DE HISTERIA.

Criação do Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança

Glória eterna! Os planos para a conquista do Plano Astral do Universo começam hoje, já e agora, e num lugar muito tipico, acolhedor e a arrebentar com Mal, Rancor, Ambição e Maquiavelismo puro! Foi criada o Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança, uma terra onde a prosperidade e o lucro servem os intentos egoístas e malévolos das gentes Gaiz Diabhalanas.

O Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança, é como o seu próprio nome diz, escondido e de relativa pequena dimensão, a sua actual população é de 1000 pessoas, que se dividem em:

- 100 agricultores de hortaliça podre e com altos poderes alucinogénicos;
- 400 funcionários públicos, que para o caso de não trabalharem por aí além serão promovidos a escravos.
- 200 funcionários privados, que são os ditos escravos.
- 395 guerreiros ninja-etarras que compõem o sistema de segurança pública e o exército do Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança.
- 5 Líderes Supremos do Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança.

Os líderes são:

Buru Har, the Cattenacio Mispeller - Líder Profeta e Prometeico, o Primeiro Ninja-Etarra.

Striapach, the Supa Swiss - Guardiã Profeta das Hortaliças e do Reino Alucinogénico.

Bost eta Azaro, le Blitzkrieg Travestic - Profeta da Associação Académica da Ordem de Ensino e Funcionalismo Público e Portador Oficial da Catana que castiga os incompetentes.

Aiolus Cerberus, hangaku chinou Ji-Niasu Jutsu - Arquivador Profeta de novas técnicas Ningaizutsus.

Koma, Kuolonsyöjä - Profeta do Elo conectador entre o Vilarejo Oculto da Vingança, o Mundo dos Vivos, o Mundo dos Mortos e o Mundo da Parvoíce Galopante.

- Decreto Gaiz Diabhal.

Weiter, weiter ins Verderben

Dreams in the Dusk

Dreams in the dusk,

Only dreams closing the day

And with the day’s close going back

To the gray things, the dark things,

The far, deep things of dreamland.

Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,

Only the old remembered pictures

Of lost days when the day’s loss

Wrote in tears the heart’s loss.

Tears and loss and broken dreams

May find your heart at dusk.

Carl Sandburg

I shall go the way of the open sea,
To the lands I knew before you came,
And the cool ocean breezes shall blow from me
The memory of your name.
- - - -
Laurence Hope (Adela Florence Nicolson)

Porque o quintal ficou mudo

Bem antes do fim do mundo

Nem um gorjeio sequer...

O vento parou na ameixeira

As taças na cristaleira

E, as flores do bem-me-quer...

Desmancharam-se em soluços

O gato pulou de susto

Fugiu lá pro além...

Foi um dia de tristeza

Tiraram-me a fortaleza

Mudaram a minha fé

- Roberto Stavale

Portfolio da Derrota - Poema

Hoje, sobrevivente do teu adeus
Tendo perdido empáfia e ego meus
Trago o corpo lanhado
Das surras que apanhei calado
Do rastejar que rastejei
No fundo do fundo onde andei

- Não sei de quem é o poema, mas não é meu.

Portfolio da Derrota

A Decadência, a Previsibilidade e o Desperdício de Pixels

Maleficarum Maleficates! Caros Maléficos entronados e amarrados!

No Mundo, que é nosso, pois controlado! A beleza maléfica pode-se malmente observar com malícia, num perpétuo maldoso ditado da Vida má e maliciosa.

No Mundo recentemente Gaizin Diabhalano, uma verruga, uma extremidade asquerosa e carregada de pus, surgiu numa das dimensões que a nostra orbe comporta.

Dão-se pelo nome de Dino Futebol Clube e é por decreto maléfico que se exige a capacidade ignota, ignóbil Beltz eta Gaizkin Zonorai eta Irekitaen Zietan.

É necessário que os eleitos, os profetas, os completamente predilectos e maléficos e terroríficos e absurdamente amedronhos membros da ordem gestora privada do Mundo:

Gaiz Diabhal.

Denominados numa das nossas dimensões como www.dinofc.blogspot.com, eles perpetuam vários pecados que nestes momentos de ordem no Mundo (Nosso, wir!, nôtre!nuestro!Di Noi! Nure!).

Além de não ser promovida a cultura tal como é neste espaço do Universo, promovem a Pouca-Vergonha, a Carneirada, o Tabu, o uso inapropriado do meu oxigénio e da comichão no joelho pelo desperdicio absurdo, maquinal e quaquiaquéquiquo quoq quiqueqq (maquiavélicos dos pixels).

Deturpam a Verdade alienando um produto que as grandes organizações estatais e comunas pretendem perpetuar ao impor subliminarmente uma nova maneira de escrever e falar denominada por «Erros Ortográficos».

Falam de assuntos ecuménicos, episcopais e numerais ordinais cardinais reais racionais fraccionais e imaginários sobre o vosso ponto de vista limitado e adolescente e incompreensivelmente dinozado Das Dinos GRRRR, Das Dinos GRRRRRR, Das Dinos GRRRR.

Como é possível que um vulto de Comunicação Social tal como é o Messias de Entre-os-Rios, Alpendorada e de Marcos vaiàsvezes, não ser tratado por «O» Zé Carlos...como? como? alguém me diga como ou eu enlouqueço! Como? Deus? Como e porquê? O Rafael(Botticceli e de Penafiel, não o Marquez)O Karl, O Leonardo(Da e Di), O Jesus, o Max, o Jean-Marie, o Hugo, O Luís Vaz, O ZÉ CARLOS!!!!

Há que chegar ao fim com esta destruição maciça de neurónios de quem é um ignóbil BJAKSASDLAJISDASJDALKSJDA, nós temos de controlar alguma coisa, vocês vão matar tudo e todos com os posts Drak e Drek e Drik e Drok e Druk!


HAR!HAR!HAR!


- Buru Har, The Cattenacio Mispeller

O destino de toda e qualquer felicidade é a tristeza.
A Felicidade é a Vida, em todos o seus aspectos exultados e exaltados, a Felicidade é o momento da Vida em que os nossos aspectos racionais e animais são postos à prova de maneira a que o eu triunfe perante a Vida, por vezes madrasta, por vezes sortuda, por vezes puta, por vezes santa.
É por isso a Felicidade a Dúvida, o indíviduo está constantemente em estado de Dúvida, pois este quer mergulhar num oceano incerto de esperanças e ilusões, construídas pelo mesmo, a Dúvida permite-nos desconstruir e reconstruir o mundo de acordo com os nossos sonhos e expectativas, é aí que o Mundo se torna perfeito, perante a atmosfera inconstante de um futuro que não está por completo nas nossas mãos, o individuo modela o ambiente que o cerca e torna-o seu. Esta incerteza, sentimentos informes a que o futuro poderá corresponder ou não, o espirito sofre, pois apesar das ilusões, o Real está dependendente de inúmeras condicionantes, não só dos nossos sonhos.
Esse sofrimento causa a que nos movamos e nos mudemos, por isso encontramos a estabilidade, a tão denominadade Felicidade, contudo a Felicidade como concebida pelo homem é idílica e quase onírica.
Quando chega o momento em que todas as dúvidas são dispersas pela Verdade, morremos...morremos porque deixa de haver razão para seguirmos, para exigirmos mais e mais de nós, de acreditar em nós, não creio que a Verdade tenha uma natureza maligna, apenas creio que não a compreendamos o suficiente de modo a aceitarmos com um certo bom grado, ou talvez a apatia que nos é causada não seja tão má nem inesperada quanto isso, talvez a apatia seja o sentimento que os deuses nos deixam experimentar, não sentir nada porque tudo está sentido, porque a Verdade iluminou tudo o que era certo e eliminou aquilo que estava errado.
As certezas na Vida são algo que buscamos até à exaustão, porque em face à inexorável verdade de que iremos um dia desvanecer do mundo, queremos uma certeza rival que nos faça esquecer da derradeira e ao mesmo tempo primeira certeza.
As certezas, no meu ver não são poucas, aliás, são tantas que nos esquecemos da grande maioria delas, porque as certezas são o passado, tudo o que fizemos é uma certeza pois torna-se imutável e eterno, o presente é a esperança e o futuro aquilo que nos faz sofrer e ao mesmo tempo viver.

- NRT, BH

O pior jogador é aquele que se arrasta em campo, que com vontade e sem engenho luta para almejar uma exibição que já não está ao seu alcance, pois apesar de pesada derrota, a correria incessante é inútil e consome a cada momento que passa a energia daquele que querendo ter tudo para dar, já só tem tão pouco.

- NRT, Buru Har

Topik

Os meus olhos não são de um azul profundo em que outros se perdem na imensidão do amor, ou verdes ao ponto de de cortar a respiração de quem os mira, não são de âmbar, num doçura capaz de comover as pedras.

Os meus olhos são castanhos, duros, comuns e vulgares. Nada dizem, nada atraiem, nada suscitam.

- NRT, BH

Todos nós

somos de esquerda, não me venham com parvoíces...somos de esquerda, todos nós somos de esquerda e não vale a pena refutar, é inegável a todos os seres humanos, temos um lado animal e irracional, por isso existe a esquerda, para que toda a nossa irracional animalidade extravase para fora, há pessoas até que tão fiéis a esse lado mais selvagem do nosso intelecto não têm ideias de direita, são só de esquerda, são puros animais.

Por isso, farto de demonstrar o meu lado racional e inteligente demonstro que também consigo ser burro como uma porta, mas ao extremo, a minha ideologia de esquerda é agora o

AUTARCISMO

Defendo a total e incondicional desmembramento dos actuais estados em cidades-estado, correspondentes a cada concelhia, não vejo razão porque Nazaré tenha de ter alguma relação com os enjoados d'alcobaça e os amarelos de Peniche, ou que Braga tenha de manter uma falsa bipolaridade no Minho com Guimarães.

Independência Já e Agora!

- Nélson Ricardo, BH

Da minha janela

no meu quarto de Santa, consigo ver uma árvore maior que o edificio ao seu lado.

É com prazer que vejo que nem sempre a artificialidade vence o que é verdadeiramente genuíno.

- Nélson Ricardo, BH

Hi, I'm at school, GDs! I just felt like greeting your evil selves. I know I rarely post on here, but I am here to tell you that I am still evil and still thinking of ways GD can take over ;)

- Striapach

Carta a uma donzela que não quis ser salva

- A maior dor que existe é não poder consolar a menina de olhos tristes.

« Minha donzela;

Guardo de ti a memória da ilusão, do ter batalhado para a cada segundo a mais que estava contigo e que te via ter sentido cada vez mais perto a felicidade. Foi uma tremenda ilusão, que se desfez ao aperceber-me com o tempo de que aquilo contra o que lutava era o mesmo pelo qual batalhava.
Altiva e distante na torre de pedra negra, numa montanha cerrada imersa pelo nevoeiro, guardada por um dragão. Fiz-me eu cavaleiro, fiz-me eu homem para a ti aceder, mas um homem é o que a derrota o dita e não o que a vitória o trai.
Admito que tentei de todas as maneiras fazer com que fosses minha, com que saísses dessa torre para te livrares do jugo do dragão mas nada resultou. Chamei-te de cá de baixo num apelo clamoroso, chamei o dragão para que eu te podesse ganhar, trepei pela torre com as minhas mãos sangrentas, versgatei a espada na pedra para que ela tombasses, e em último desespero entalei as grevas da minha armadura nas fragas da torre.
E contudo, o que recebia da tua parte era sempre esse teu olhar no horizonte, por entre as brumas, a relembrar o passado num sorriso triste e nostálgico. Tudo em ti era assim, uma marca do passado que te definia em todos os contornos do teu rosto, e esse teu horizonte, que era só teu e de mais a que um dia tu partilharas um sorriso verdadeiramente feliz que eu ainda não vi.
Não vi nenhum dragão nas proximidades da torre, porém podia vê-lo noutro local. Nos teus olhos, que focavam o horizonte, havia uma ânsia tão desejosa de se cumprir num à silêncio saudoso, foi nesses teus olhos feitos de mar, que eu pude vislumbrar aquilo que te mantinha aprisionada à torre, não fora a escassez de cavaleiros que lutassem por ti, mas a presença do dragão. Era tão omnisciente e palpável que sorrias ao pensar nele, ele havia desaparecido para sempre e, mesmo sabendo isso, confortava-te as neblinas que te escondiam o que se ocultava por dentro do manto branco pois poderias imaginar que esse teu captor um dia poderia surgir do nada num salto e irromper a alva escuridão. Tu esperavas sabendo que nunca mais vinha, e, eu assistia, tão desiludido por ser só um cavaleiro, por ser só um homem, e, em vez de asas, fogo e cobiça, ter apenas a espada romba, as grevas quebradas e a vontade vergada.

Com esperança de que um dia um qualquer outro dragão possa rescuar-te da torre em que te fechas, porque os homens, esses não estão fadados a ter alguém tão belo.»

Questão

A questão que se me deve ser posta não é se eu já encontrei um sentido para a vida, mas porque é que eu o acho uma desilusão tão grande.

- BH, Nélson Ricardo

Rain in the Ocean

Rain in the Ocean

-dedicated to Aino

Flávio H. Peixoto was at a brink of extinction, the intense and continuous rain that punished the Ocean's surface determined each second it passed, the future of Peixoto, he couldnt fight the elements, his false strenght, his weak determination would tremble to the solid and unique truth that he was alone.
In the middle of the imense deep blue ocean, he couldnt see in his blindness that the rain covered all his landscape, he could only see interference in his vision. His small fragile boat was at the mercy of the winds and oceans as a mortal is at the mercy of superior gods.
Still, above all that stood against him, the sea, the winds, the waves, Poseidon's will that remained on every move the sea took, he kept sailing on his front, no one and nobody would be stopping him.
A light from behind created a white vexus on the rain curtain that continued falling down and hitting the water, Peixoto could notice a vague flush of irregular waves stumbling down the cracked wood of his boat. He looked back, he had someone at his trail, he whispered some cursing words and kept going. He should kept going no matter what.
Suddenly he hears the most beautiful voice, like a mermaid, but a litlle bit more sad and nostalgical, he looks back, there was a fading golden glow between the rain drop, he started to feel hot water on his face, he couldnt notice if it was the rain, or tears crawling down his cheek.
Yet, he must kept going, a few meters back, this girl was driving a boat, full of faith, full of strenght, so full of scars, there was too many holes on the boat, the sea have treated the misterious girl's boat really bad, yet, it didnt sink, it just kept going so steady and determined as always, there was a sea whirlwind in a question of yards on the front of the man's boat, he would go down with it, she would stop him.
She knew she would have to save him, it was symbiotical, he saved her so much times, and she did the same, they needed each other to not to sink on the imense deep blue ocean, so cruel and so fair.
Soon, the mermaid voice girl would recoil Peixoto's boat, take him to shore, and together they would look again at the sea, knowing that they had each other at their side, wondering, when would they adventure themselves again in the Deep Blue.

- Buru Har

A few yards

Fumegante

Por entre as ruínas que a cinza tomou, o general de guerra Santos A. Pinheiro inalava o intenso cheiro carbonizado.
Era o cheiro da guerra, da morte, da destruição, por aquela encosta desvastada de árvores e de vida e de alegria, o sol brilhava num apolíneo céu azul, convidando os pardais e demais gentes vivas a ficarem pelos bosques da serrania.
Ao longe, quando a encosta destruída acabava, um pequeno vilarejo sobrevivia inconsciente a todo aquele magnifico e horroroso acontecimento bélico.
Santos A. Pinheiro era o único homem a trilhar os caminhos de cinza da outrora verde encosta, agora estava tudo queimado, desde as árvores que antes serviam de sombra às gentes que por lá passavam, a relva verde que tão macia os namorados, crianças e o homem de labor descalçavam-se e refrescavam os seus pés calejados, mas não era só natureza destruída. Até a própria criação do homem fora deitada abaixo, ainda restavam os alicerces dos canhões, dos tanques e das metralhadoras.
Santos A. Pinheiro compadecia-se com aquele cheiro da guerra, estava triste e ao mesmo tempo feliz, apesar da estrondosa derrota fora avante com os seus intuitos e os seus soldados, encosta acima, contra tudo e contra tudos mesmo quando assim não era necessário. Só restavam cinzas e pó negro, que já não sabia distinguir se era pólvora perdida ou tudo o que fora carbonizado. E o que importa isso agora? Importa, importa e muito.
Para a história ficará a derrota de Santos A. Pinheiro, mas também ficará indelével nesse facto histórico que o sacrificio do coração de alguém por um de outro torna tão doce a derrota, tão nostálgica, que só o advir do tempo e do esquecimento, que fustiga a memória, trará dor, pela saudade deixada quando ele um dia, naquela encosta perdeu aquela guerra, e, se sentiu feliz por ao menos ter tido a coragem

- Buru Har

O amor é uma companhia

O amor é uma companhia.
Já não sei andar só pelos caminhos,
Porque já não posso andar só.
Um pensamento visível faz-me andar mais depressa
E ver menos, e ao mesmo tempo gostar bem de ir vendo tudo.

Mesmo a ausência dela é uma coisa que está comigo.
E eu gosto tanto dela que não sei como a desejar.
Se a não vejo, imagino-a e sou forte como as árvores altas.
Mas se a vejo tremo, não sei o que é feito do que sinto na ausência dela.

Todo eu sou qualquer força que me abandona.
Toda a realidade olha para mim como um girassol com a cara dela no meio.

Alberto Caeiro

- Para uma pessoa especial, ela sabe quem é.

- Nélson Ricardo (Buru Har)

No Title, No Name, No Independence, No Nothing

Aqui estão os meus primeiros links no template do Blog, são bonitos não são? que maneira de expressão mais apaneleirada...são porreiros, porreiraços, vivaços, digamos, bem, creio que cada um tem a sua expressão.
Não as vou explicar, digo apenas que são blogs muito bons.

Buy now the official Gaizin Diabhal wallpaper and be mesmerized!

Say hello to our "World Domination Wallpaper"!

Magnificent, isn't it?

PS: The wallpaper I have posted have a low resolution. The one I'm going to use in the computers have a bigger quality.

Vengeance it´s ready for duty!

Bom dia senhor presidente, membros do governo, senhores deputados… Então Tó! Tudo fixe? A bonança e depois a tormenta…

Dear friends and not so dear friends. I believe you are all-around fellows, very nice people. Nice people in an evil way I hope, but not a common kind of evil. I prefer the annoying type. The ones that prefer to drop ketchup in innocent people clothes, instead of planting landmines. What’s losing a leg comparing to a dirty shirt? And when the people stop crying, you must go there and invite them to make a commercial about some stupid and miraculous washing powder. It can’t get worse than that…

Almost forgot to present myself. My name is Bost eta Azaro, le Blitzkrieg Travestic. I’m a evil avenger, like the Furies from the vengeance greek goddess Nemesis. But I’m supposed to be evil, because IT IS the Gaizin Diabhal way. If you ask me of my Neverwinter Nights style, I would say I’m Evil Lawful. That’s it. Black is Dark. Nothing can get darker than our blog template… Respecta!


– Bost eta Azaro, le Blitzkrieg Travestic

EUSKALDUN ZINTZOEN BALADA
Jon Mirande, 1950


(Aldi berean Ortzi euskal jainkoari
zuzendu galde othoitz bat dena,
zintzo ez den batek eginik).

Soin zabal, zalhu, txapeldun,
euskaldun eta fededun,
—handi baita— sudur mintzo,
zintzo dira, o! Hain zintzo
eta barnez oro zaldun...
...Nahiz arrunt den azala.
(Izaitetik hek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

Ilhunean zeuden lehen
Bainan JEL argia goihen,
jautsi baita Euskadira,
argiturik bizi dira
ahalikan bizi dira
ahalikan eta zehen
demokrat onen gisala.
(Argitzetik hek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

Jakintza badute anhitz
atso, haur, eta zuhurt-hitz
ba dakite politika,
pilota, dantza, kantika,
bai eta kantu ez likits.
Leitzen dakite Misala
(Leitzetik heiek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

Trebe izaiki tekhnikan
joritzen dira Amerikan;
haatik, han ere zintzoki
elkartzen dira Batzoki
abertzaleetan; ez bakan
joaiten, han ere, elizala.
(Joritzetik hek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

Aphezak eta auzaphezak
benedikatu ezkontzak
egiten dituzte bethi
—ohetik landa hobeti
dastatzekotan— aratzak
diren neskekin, ontsala.
(Ezkontzetik hek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

Bainan ahanzten zitzaitan
hospatzea neurthitzotan
heien jaunzdura jathorra,
ongi zuritu athorra
dute jaunzten igandetan,
bihotzaren zuriz ala?
(Zuritzetik hek bezala
Ortzi jaunak zaint' nazala).

IGORTE:

Nola juduen baitzinen
zintzo diren Euskaldunen
Jaun zara, Jahve, gisala
neu, zer ere zaitan jinen,
zintzotzera hek bezala
Ortzik utzi ez nazala.

Gotta love the college application process.

And gotta love selfish siblings who call YOU selfish because for once you want to do what's good for you and not beneficial to THEM.

Yeah, my sister was yelling at me today in the car because I want to go to HWS and they're expensive. She thinks that just because we have to get loans that it's going to affect her. It's NOT going to affect her. Not hardly.

I'm going anyway, just to spite her. That's the GD thing to do!

- Striapach

The last day of J H Kempers

The main objective of the beggining its his inexorable path towards the end.
J H Kempers, such as anybody else waited for the moment, but he waited differently, he didnt waited anxiously or fustrated, not with a single sign of angriness, he just waited because he knew that whatever he would do, he wouldnt change a thing.
J H Kempers walked threw the empty streets assured that he would be enjoying it usual and finest walk on the Old city's avenue.
The prodigious ancient buildings sidewalking the inner urban road gave a gothic melody to the silent beat of the end.
The sun grew highly in the sky as a raging inferno on the brink of explosion, J H Kempers felt warm, he picked up his tissue and cleaned his sweated forehead, an old lady and a small girl looked at him behind the courtains of a closed window near to the ground, he glimpsed the undesired attention and rapidly moved his eyes to the sidewalk.
He restarted walking knowing that the only thing he would meet in his future moments would be the end as thousands of millions tried to designed it, the final redemption or our Doomsday.
Still, J H Kempers just walked, untill the sun would finally face off the sky and the sky would no longer exist and he would be the same dust that originated him, his ancestors, his food, his garbage, cause sooner or later we get united by Fate, turning us into dust.


- Buru Har

AND THE BROOM MAY KISS THE BRIDE.

Mysticism

Mysticism isnt a word, or a concept, or an idea, its mostly the feeling that overcomes us when we enter a place or we are on a situation that just makes us think that we are too small, and we know Who is too great. I heard about mysticism all the time, specially when its soccer related, all players, fans and presidents feel the mystic of some stadiums, which are indeed temples of soccer. These consensual idea comes from the fact of all the moments, and mainly, all the fuss that once upon a time has surrounded that area, here are some stadiums where we can proove the Mysticism in Soccer.

St Kitts and Nevis rulez

and theere is some major reasons for that, mostly because the rest of the world sucks, and here is why.

Russia: the hometown of the «Same Shit, Different Day», where old communist high members are now the rulers of the country's resources;
Poland: Bullied threw out the centuries by germans and russians, and hungarians when they remember too; Germany: Insert Coin - apocalypse on the way;
Denmark: «Something's wrong on Denmark's kingdom?» isnt a question, its an affirmation.
Greece: Ok, Brokeback mountain? That in every corner of a hill.
Sweden: Here's a thought, maybe swedish and french could get together, considering that Swedens national icon are big tits and France is a big metal falo in the middle of Paris, the rest you can imagine.
Romenia: Wannabe italians with slave accent.
Italians: a giant tower falling down tells much of a self-asteem of a country.
Austria: Hitler born there and flee to Germany, Einstein born there and flee to the US, Freud born there and flee to England - Seems that to be an Austrian you must pay taxes.
Switzerland: The only country that is bad in the only thing that is good at: Cheeses with holes.
France: When jackassness becomes a national icon.
Spain: When stepping cockroaches and killing mosquitoes becomes the main national dance.
Portugal: Founded on a Edipoe's complex, an infidelity as the main love story and the principal literature books speaks about incest.
Marrocos: As clever as it seems to get as far as possible of Spain and Portugal, immigrating there isnt the solution. Idiots is the word.
Filipins: The only country that managed to be a portuguese, spanish, english and french colony. UAU!
China: Welcome to Hell.
Japan: Life isnt Comics, although you jappos manage to make a full figure out of yourselves.
India: Kamasutra isnt sexy, Sex Gods arent sexy, and sex isnt sexy, specially if you do it on the mud, or, as we say geopolitically, India.
Iran: This gun I have is to make weight on my pocket.
Palestinians: Demaning an independent country means that you already have a country, and things such as an economy, a society, a ground to live in. Try Harder, word - idiots.
Iceland: The only country who can say that a Women movement has reached power, but besides politics, all the journalists are wondering how to approach the femme leader about their main "positions".
USA: Its not about Bush, its not about Clinton, its not about Iraq, its mainly on finding out that a 75 year old nanny robbs a bank.
Mexico: «Yo tambien quiero ser americano»
Venezuela: I can also manage to get a country of playdoll
Brasil: Being a second class portuguese its already bad without the morbid desire to reclaim a spanish identity, the sad part of it: They dont manage to do it.
Argentina: Having a spanish background its awful, but being mad with Brasil because they want to take them their spanish background, its getting mad with the doctor cause he wants to remove a penis cancer.

Saint Kitts and Nevis wins the Award of most common country in the world.


-Buru Har

Islamism rullz

Everyone seems to be wondering why Muslim terrorists are so quick to
commit suicide.
Let's see now:
No Jesus, No Wal-Mart, No television, No cheerleaders, No baseball,
No football, No basketball, No hockey, No golf, No tailgate parties.
No Home Depot. No pork BBQ, No hot dogs, No burgers, No lobster, No
shellfish, or even frozen fish sticks, No gumbo, No jambalaya.
More than one wife. Rag for clothes and towels for hats.
Constant wailing from the guy next-door because he's sick and
there are no doctors. Constant wailing from the guy in the tower.
No chocolate chip cookies. No Christmas.
You can't shave. Your wives can't shave.
You can't shower to wash off the smell of donkey cooked over burning
camel dung. The women have to wear baggy dresses and veils at all
times. Your bride is picked by someone else. She smells just like
your donkey, but your donkey has a better disposition.
Then they tell you that when you die it all gets better!

I mean, really, IS THERE A MYSTERY HERE ?

in http://images.google.pt/imgres?imgurl=http://www.boomersfunnies.com/Pictures/Bush%2520Monkey.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.boomersfunnies.com/political.htm&h=800&w=1120&sz=174&tbnid=IARAf157dP9J_M:&tbnh=107&tbnw=150&hl=pt-PT&start=4&prev=/images%3Fq%3DBush%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Dpt-PT%26lr%3D

Tribute (part II)

Tribute

Today is the International Day of Women, and considering this major important day, here is my tribute:

I've remembered.


- Buru Har

And the oscar goes to...

...no...no...not in this world...not you too...you're just bad...oh! but tits cant win it...this one aint going to glory also...HA-AH, you wish...you again? what are you trying to do? steel Namibia's gold resources?...no...no...no...


...Well, ok, none of the nominees won so I'll have to take the bourden of bringing home the 14th No-winner Oscar.


And thats was another story of the zone between zones, which is not a zone: the Gaiz Diabhal zone.

- Buru Har

GOOD LUCK REINA!

I love school

Not really!

I was supposed to work but the stupid fluffy snow made that not so. or I'd be working right now. BUT I'M NOT. We had a snow day and I also got off work and I'm not going to have money

dude

next time i'm working is Sunday. SUNDAY. That's two weeks since I've worked.

hah

College bound!

- Striapach, the Supa Swiss, Dos Gaiz Diabhal

Maniqueism

«Get out of there, asshole!»
«Try to come here and take me, open wide hole!»
Buru Har of the Gaiz Diabhal, the Cattenacio Mispeller, was up to his head with McHallwefarm, standing with his back against a cold stone pillar of a palace who belong to the ghosts of the unexistent fissure. Bob was making his way towards one more lovely act on planet Earth, Bob was full with love, peace and feelings alike, he knew he had to interceed on poor loveless Earth, it was more than an urgent need, it was what it takes to be a Guardian Querubin of the Depth ghosts, he would go to Earth and spread its message and interact with Good on humans behaviour, he would do whatever it could take to do what he aimed, against everything and everyone.
The Cattenacio Mispeller knew he had to stop him, one more piece of Love in Earth and the place would burst in pink teddy bears over in loved couples swearing their vowes on the moonlight over the river Senna on the top of Eiffel Tower, he wouldnt stop, he didnt wanted to spot, and stopping would be the last thing he and his silenced revolver would do.
He lifted up his legs, showed himself at the ethereal blue light of the ghost world, Bob sees him, runs away threw the roof, without looking, Buru Har shoots at him, but a pink flare confused the Gaizin, his most hated enemy gets off the roof and now stands on the way out door, he looked to his chaser and said clearly.
«You wont stop me»
«Off course not, You will accept Death as willingly as Love».
And the pursuit went on.


- Buru Har

Cattenacio Mispeller

Soon, a story about the Cattenacio Mispeller.

Ghosts

What are feelings made of? we ask...are they made of actions? of words? of an ethereal bound that connects us to the gods unveiled in Fate? Or are we making the correct question.
On the desert valley of Atira, under a dark sky, fulfilled with the clouds antecipating the Haven's wrath, Ahote stares, his dark eyes shown what he most desired not to face, he could not believe, with his body stacked, curved with the hands touching the ground, he closed his mouth with bitter anger.
Acaharo stood tall on the plain while he watched the man he most feared, he knew this day was upon to happen, but he didnt knew it should be today, however, if that what was reserved by the Gods so he could keep walking his path and life with doubled perserverance, then he had nothing to do, but face his enemy.
Ahote rose up, walked and Acaharo walk towards him, soon, they were 5 feet distance, their heads straight, their eyes unshakeable and defying, they had an axe on their hands, on the front of each of them wasnt only their enemy and adversary, there were projected memories from the past, the reasons to some decisions they took, who they were and what they would be were a result of their past encounters. They wanted to raise their hands in war.
What is vengeance made of? and promises? They are past actions caused by words that creates a bound of eternal hate and the wish of fulfilling what was left undone, that overpasses lifes as a bourden in our hearts, and death doesnt end it, on the contrary, it imortalizes them, making those vengeances ghosts who break into History and Society as a forbidden but most wanted element.
Ahote still couldnt raise his hand, speak or do nothing, what can one do to a ghost? What he didnt knew is that Acaharo had the exact same questions on his mind.

- Buru Har

To Her

Gunnar Heydvarson is on the limit of the white line that separates the bench from the field.
As a soccer manager he makes decisions with his team, he draws the tactics and schemes from which his team will win.
But Soccer is tricky, he is on a drawn with the best team in Iceland, Rejkjavik Ballklub, his team, Laundmannagard FC, humble, with low resources, interpretating badly the tactic Gunnar drew on his head, confused within lines, hopeless in which play, getting themselves humiliated by the divine class of the Rejkjavikan players.
Gunnar Heydvarson, a manager, a man of soccer, a man, has to decide, there are three paths, three ways of facing the match, the championship. Three paths leading to three very different destinies.
He can get a drawn, from which he will reach a good position on the championship, but that would include standing on the same ground for too long time.
He can get a defeat by 1-0, he will not be respected for his work, for what he trully worked on that team and how much he cares about them, but he will be keeping the team on the first championship.
He can get victory, he may win the pride of all Iceland, by his courage, by the way he kept believing in that team, and how he fought so hard to kept that fragile group in the toughest division of all, glory is at his reach...but it has its dangers, betting all on the attack would mean leaving the defense alone, and the icelandese capital soccer team has 0 goals in 40 games, and 40 goals in counter-attack, and if he looses by more than one he will lower division, putting at risk his already fragile position, his already fragile team.
A man allways has to choose, decisions are allways on the next side of the street, and Gunnar Heydvarson is just catching his last breath.

Minut 89: The center midfielder of Rejkjavik Ballklub takes the ball on the middle of the field, passes one player, two players, three players, four players, five players, he is 2 meters in distance of the goalkeeper....he shoots, he scores, Rejkjavik Ballklub would win the game with this goal, and consequently, winning the Icelandese Soccer Title, they're fans who travelled far to support their team jump with happinness and their smiles glowing with the sweet taste of victory.
The few supporters of Laundmannagard hide the small support flags, they watch resigned the victory of their opponents.
The loosing players left the pitch with his head down, not by shame, but for incapacity of not being able to show quality, how they condemned their talents by affirming that they havent any talent.
From the president, the supporters, to the team of Landmaunnagard, there is a common feeling: Gunnar Heydvarson made the only choice.


-Buru Har

Love to be privatized

A rushy mess is the best words to define the last days on Heaven, a rumour that Love will be tooken from the Heart and Feelings Department and from human’s soul to be handed on human Companies or gouvernments, as a product on the Service’s market.
This possibility has appeared on the role of the continuing “Karma Cleansing” promised by the Superior Divine Council of Gods(composed by God, Yaveh, Allah, Jeovah, Zeus, Tao, Shiva and Buda), in its 1002nd Eternity turn, due to the more than obvious Soul corruption and horrific destiny that awaits Mankind.
The problems show up when there are critical voices on the Heart and Feelings Department, ruled by Afrodite and Saint Valentine, who have the «Golden share» on Love, while the remain 50% of the feeling is controled by Mankind. In declaration to Gaiz Diabhal, Afrodite complains that Love belongs to the unknown fate of the humans and on the cair of her department: «The Heart and Feelings Department will not allow the Counceil to introduce in the Love dossier, its a strategical sector to the development of human behaviour, and it has more than once brought good results to this Administration.»
The speaker of the Counceil, Saint Peter said the Administration knows what is best for the future of us all, including what we feel: «Love is a big part of the Universe’s and Karma’s problems. How many times did we had to face murders, homicides, suicides, wars and things of the sort, in the name of Love. Humans cant deal with Love, its sad but true.».
The minister of Forgiveness, Jesus Christ, explicited that he wont allow chaos to introduce in Heaven: «Above all, we must remain calm and conscient of the decision we are about to make, both situations have bad and good sides, we have to keep ourselves acknowledged that the Devil can act when we least expect.»
This statements were clearly refused by the Devil itself: «It’s completely false that we will interceed on this issue, since 10 eternities ago that our course was of focusing in our sinful resources, so we’ve liberalize the sectors and a few millenia ago, we’ve passed the Planet Earth on the Índex of the Better Worlds. That means that Hell is on the top 10 of that Índex, while Earth is almost on the bottom of that ranking, having only a worst performance the worlds of ghosts and the radioactive Croissants sans la Joie de Vivre.
On the human side, the major companies of the market havent yet considered any action, regarding the lack of true facts. The Barclays Bank and Credit Suisse said that they will not participate directly on the control of Love, but they might offer it to atract new clients and to fidelize old ones. The Spanish Telefonica says that nothing is yet defined, although they may advance on a action of acquirance with the help of the Santander Bank. American airlines is interested in turning Love into chocolats so that they may expand themselves to other markets such as the South American and Asian.
The only gouvernments that want to take an action are the ones of Portugal and China, these last one because their freackin country is so big that they just have a morbid need to fill up the empty space, while Portugal thinks that a litlle bit more of simpathy on their public workers would improve their produtivity.
Although of all that has been said, the last word goes to the Secretary of the Destiny and Future, ruled by the eight-legged Spider, Aracne, who shows complete availability to do whatever the Counceil decide, but there are other priorities ahead the privatization of Love: «This department of Heaven has allways showned available to define the Destiny of the Universe, and in special, troubled worlds like Earth and its humans inhabitants, but its these ones in particular that there are reserved other events more important and that are ahead of that Liberalization, the H5N1 world pandemy, the III World War, the extinction of the tze-tze flies and a super-tsunami on the West Coast of Europe are, in my point of view, priorities that cannot be minimized.»

- Buru Har

Ugh.

Gaiz Diabhal needs to kill all bad school assemblies, okay?

- Striapach

Target: 1001 defeats to Bob - 1st one - ST Valentines day

Considering that Bob McHallewfarm embodies everything that is good, pure, fashion and lovely we have to defeat him. And I propose that the key to defeat him is to find exemples of moments or objects or events where EVIL, the true and unique spirit of Gaiz Diabhal, beats Good. 1001 defeats.

Here is the first contribute - Saint Valentine's day, such a priceless day, where couples all around the world join to celebrate their love in a very very very special ocasion.
...
...
Is it? NO!!!!! Most of the men just dont give a damn about the issue, they just want to watch some sports, or drinking a few beers with their friends, they mostly forget the day, and they pass all the day checking out the girl who sells houses on the next block. Girlfriends have a special place in our hearts...after being with our friends and watching a soccer game or any kind of sport.

Considering this obvious issue, and that girls are the first to be "eaten" by fashionably comercialism, they tend to get sad and mad with the boyfriends about it, so they get miserable, and most of the times the couple breaks up, so everyone gets miserable, AND THIS IS HOW EVIL PREVAILED OVER GOOD!!!

KILL KILL KILL AND SUE KOSS!!!(this one was orgasmic)

-Buru Har

Prophecy from the Beyond Door

LAD evil ones!

Something happenned to me today at 01:34, when I finished my last meal before sleep while I was watching «Lost».

A ghost came from nowhere to my room and he stared!! I was like «#"!!!"# %&"#$ A». Then he said to me «Be quiet», he was watching «Lost» with me, then he sat beside me and we watched «Lost» together, he even put up a pillow on his back and he said something like «Aaaahhh, that feels good».

I got kind of weird, but well, its allways good to share an episode of «Lost» with a fan so I've offered him some bread and he took it, he asked me then.
«Is that the musician guy "Pippin" from Lord of the Rings?»
«Yes, it is» I said «he likes the pregnant girl»
«Thats Stupid!» he cussed.
«Why?»
«There are no electrical guitars in the Middle Earth!»
«Ah...»

Then he left after the episode ended and he left me a note that said.

«On the third visit of the W, the 7 firsts will be apledging him to be gentle. The cute, lighty, lovely one(we GD know who this guy is, right!) will take on a rifle, create a huge manifestation on Teehran Ville, just beside Pyongyang Ville in the State of Louisiana, and he will scream higher that ever with the croud «WE WANT PRADA! WE WANT PRADA! WE WANT PRADA!

PS: Thanks for the meal.»


- Buru Har

Why do we need to defeat Bob McHallewfarm?

Jeepers creepers, just look at him. Look at that hair and those polka dots and that stupid grin on his face. How can you not want to annhiliate him? And, my evil friends, Bob is Swiss. Do we ever hear anything about Switzerland? Ever? No. They all own guns, but do they ever use them? No. What losers. All that money, spent and wasted. Even though Bob is Swiss, he owns one. He has to; he's Swiss. Do you see that dog in his picture? Loser! We, as Gaizin Diabhalens, also hate his choices in clothing. Look at his horrendous style. Full of attempts at cuteness, but never succeeding. Is it any wonder, Gaizin Diabhalens, why we need to defeat this ghost? This Swiss ghost?

So, B.H. and A.C., we shall try our best and we will also win. Why, you ask? Because we are G.D.

Har, har, har!
Kill, kill, kill, and Sue Koss!

-Striapach

This is who we need to defeat.

This is Bob McHallewfarm.

Stare at him in anger.

-Striapach

Aiolos Cerberus of the Gaiz Diabhal

Nothing could make me more EVIL then being in the Gaiz Diabhal. In spite of being only 18 years old my evil life has began when I was a small kid, I used to broke things only for pleasure and blamed my older brother just to see my mother kicking his ass. HAR HAR HAR!!!!!

Victory shall be OURS!!!!!!

Striapach dos Gaiz Diabhal.

Striapach here. Whaz up, my evil friend, Buru Har?

I probably know anyway, as are talking on MSN right now.

Anyway, the evil life is so fun. Everybody should therefore worship us. We talk about the most evil things, yet we are the ones who make the most sense. :)

Bob McHallewfarm thinks he make sense, but he's just a stupid Swiss ghost. What could be more disgusting than that? We will destroy him one day. Then we will chop him up into a bajillion pieces and put the pieces in random places. Like the idea? Yeah, I thought so.

That is what being evil is about.

Also about killing and suing Koss.

«Love» by Buru Har

Love sucks...Love stinks...and the fact, is that its still the most powerful, destructive and beautiful thing we can ever get in touch in our miserable lives(except me and Striapach, because we're GD).

Do I feel love? Unfortunately, yes. Unfortunately, I'm not a feelingless robot. Unfortunately my soccer team isnt an european champion. Unfortunately, I'm a optimist portuguese on Portugal. Unfortunately, life tells me constantly that getting kicked in the ass is good for my health. Unfortunately, there are people who say «no» just because. Unfortunately, the communists and all the left-wingers left their brain in animals anus, such as horses and dogs. So remember people, when you think you've spoiled your fresh new shoes on dogs shit, disappoint yourself, its human brains, those who believe in a new world with peace and love, and all those things. Unfortunately, I get my counterspells being countered and bribe a deck without creatures. Unfortunately, she said no...

just to piss off my friends...

Buru Har of the Gaiz Diabhal

I am going to present myself, not by words of mine, but threw evil, pure, pure evil, the kind of evil thats doesnt let you sleep a good night because your stomach is an incompetent looser that cant find a way to fight the neo-liberal spirals bla bla bla bla bla bla

Am I a boy? No, I'm not even a freackin human how can I be a boy? Who made this stupid question?

Do I have a face to be known? who knows....maybe I do...maybe I dont....or maybe, I'm just sitting at the front of some computers screen at 6:12 am because I decided to have internet friends even more far away than Portugal, and none of them appears now to talk with me.
Why?!?!?!?...I dont know, who cares, really...?

Being a Gaiz Diabhal is simply letting your anus and your brain work as one in harmony, so let there be peace then.

Evil has a itchy side of acting

First post ever, yes, thats right, the most evilish group ever known has come to express itself, on the underworld of the internet by the hands of its first-founders: Buru Har and Striapach.

We are evil, We are Gaiz Diabhal. Do you want to know why we are evil? Yes? well, tough luck, we're evil, we dont say.