Blog Chaotique depuis janvier 2003


Le hasard n'appartient pas à ce monde, tout n'est que fatalité.
Le fait que vous vous soyez connecté était inéluctable.

Je cite : I'm really kind and gentle. Things get mixed up all the time. I see a person I would like to be very close to (everybody) then I think it would just be the same as before and they don't give a shit for me. Then I say something nasty or nothing at all and walk away. The poor person doesn't realize that I have decided I don't like him. What's wrong with people ? - James B. Dean (1954)
Je pense : trop, à ce qu'il paraît
Je rêve : tout le temps
(mis à jour samedi 2 décembre 2006 à 00:20)

16/01/2011

16/01/11 - 23:59

Endescence


See You in another Life, Brothers. La fête est finie, on descend.

16/01/11 - 23:01

TicTocescence


Allez, encore 1 heure et je m'en retourne dans mon caveau de Rainbow Pixiland,
avec la Lunacorn.

Did you know that they glow in the dark ? Yah

16/01/11 - 17:11

FBescence


Ah bah voilà, trop de GA a tueR FB...

16/01/11 - 16:31

Hitchcockescence


Et Ricroel attitude avec LA question sur les pigeons : Avez-vous déjà vu des bébés pigeons ?

16/01/11 - 14:12

Burnescence


Burn berry, burn.

C'est beau le berry qui brûle la nuit.
Ou qui brûle, tout simplement.

16/01/11 - 13:59

Spéciale cacedédi II

16/01/11 - 13:14

Spéciale cacedédi



^^

16/01/11 - 12:12

Puddingescence







Dans un grand bol de strychnine délayez de la morphine

Faire tiédir à la casserole 1 bon verre de pétrole...

Oh ho, je vais en mettre 2



Quelques gouttes de ciguë

De la bave de sangsue

1 scorpion coupé très fin


Et un peu de poivre en grains

Raaarg nooon

Ah? Bon



Emiettez votre arsenic dans 1 verre de narcotique

2 cuillères de purgatif qu'on fait bouillir à feu vif...

Oh ho, je vais en mettre 3



Dans un petit plat à part

Tiédir du sang de lézard

La valeur d'un dé à coudre


Et un peu de sucre en poudre

Noooon

Ah? Bon



Vous versez la mort-aux-rats dans du venin de cobra

Pour adoucir le mélange pressez 3 quartiers d'orange...

Oh ho, je vais en mettre 1 seul



Décorez de fruits confits moisis dans du vert-de-gris

Tant que votre pâte est molle


Et un peu de vitriol

Noooon... Ouuiiiii

Ah, je savais bien qu'ça serait bon



Le pudding à l'arsenic nous permet ce pronostic

Demain sur les bords du Nil, que mangeront les crocodiles?

DES GAULOIIIIIIS


Et en cadeau bonux, Le Bain de Cléopâtre

19/04/2008

19/04/08 - 00:00

Em'-dayescence


Let him be a White Queen
x-travaganza
Let him be a White Queen
x-hibition
Let him be a White Queen
(r)evolution


Bonne fête à toutes les Emma.
(sauf à Emma Daube-ass. Nin, pas à elle)

et preum's.

14/09/2007

14/09/07 - 17:32

Hervé Villard n'est pas mort !

- SI !!! IL EST MOREUUUH !!!!
- Les enfants sont formidables ! Excuse-nous Hervé ! Non, Hervé Villard n’est pas mort ma petite fille. Alors, qu’est-ce que tu vas nous chanter ?
- « Capri, c’est fini »
- Non. Hervé Villard n’est pas mort ! Tu vas nous chanter comme on avait dit « Bambino » de Dalida*, qui elle est morte ! Tu as vu son hommage à Jean Pierre Foucault sur GA ? Ca veut dire qu’elle est morte. Est-ce que tu as vu un hommage à Hervé Villard chez Jean Pierre Foucault sur GA ?
- Nan.
- Non. Ca veut dire qu’il est toujours vivant.


* Dalida, Jacques Martin... c'est presque pareil.

13/05/2007

13/05/07 - 10:55

Apocalyptica à l'Eurovision


Sans Julien Lepers et Tex qui parlent en même temps, on peut enfin jouir du spectacle et surtout de la musique.

19/03/2007

14/03/2007

14/03/07 - 14:00

Valanescence

The last time I was this bored I took hostages.

I'm gonna go crazy and I'm taking you with me.

14/02/2007

14/02/07 - 21:27

Sevenescence


Romantic love ?
An attraction based on sexual desire when it facilitates procreation.
Physiologically, it bears a striking similarity to disease. A series of biochemical responses that trigger an emotional cascade impairing normal functioning.


Goddess, I love that Borg.

12/10/2006

12/10/06 - 12:11

Dexter

Based on the novel Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay.



It's like candy... with blood, which is so much better.

09/10/2006

09/10/06 - 12:21


I have an active imagination, Matthew. I'm paid a lot of money for it. And you had to know I was gonna find out. So now I have this in my imagination. That's just mean.

23/07/2005

23/07/05 - 00:12

666

Bravo, Anatole (*) ^^

 

N'oubliez jamais

N'oubliez jamais II

Beyonce - Gnaaaaaaaa gloioioioire

12/06/06 - 15:45
C'est pas méchant, c'est roguien !
— yomot (Que voulez-vous, on ne s'habille pas impunément en noir sans finir par récolter un adjectif !)

12/06/06 - 16:44
ça c'est une crise de roganite aiguë !
— yomot

98% of teenagers do or have tried pot. If you're one of the 2% that hasn't, put this in your journal.

Last thought

Why has no one ever loved me?

Cassie Newton
The sheets above me cool my skin like dirt on a mad woman's grave
I rise into the moonlight white and watch the mirror stare
Pale fish looks back at me
Pale fish that will never swim
My skin is milk for no man to drink
My thighs unused unclenched
This body is not ready yet
But dirt waits for no woman and coins will buy no time
I hear the chatter of the bugs
It's they alone will feast
You think I want this? You think I don't care? Believe me, I want to... be here, do things. I want to graduate from high school, and I want to go to the stupid winter formal. I have this friend, and it would be fun to go with him. Just to dance and hear lame music, to wear a silly dress and laugh and stuff. I'd like to go. There's a lot of stuff I'd like to do. I'd love to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. And I'd love to see my cousins grow up and see how they turn out cause they're really mean and I think they're gonna be fat. I'd love to backpack across the country or, I don't know, fall in love, but I won't. I just never will.
I sit alone at my window sill
Trees crackle, sunshine blares
And children laugh like death
Their sharp happiness is a knife to me
One jealous snake on a window sill
They will be here, trees and sun
And children with canes and pruney skin
When I am but a memory
A laugh in the trees of time
I sit atone and try to love them
I sit alone, a snake
I sit alone and try to love them
I sit alone and laugh

Mutation: it is the key to our evolution.
It is how we have evolved from a single-celled organism into the dominant species on the planet.
This process is slow, normally taking thousands and thousands of years.
But every few hundred millennia, evolution leaps forward.


There's only so much rejection I can take. So, I'll do my best, but don't be surprised if one of these days you wake up and I'm not here.
Le pouvoir des mots.
La seule entrave qui est le propre de l'homme, ce sont les mots.
Il faut se méfier. Les mots sont dangereux.
Dès qu'ils sortent de la bouche, on ne peut plus les reprendre. On ne peut pas faire comme si on n'avait rien dit.
Les hommes s'enferment dans les mots sans réaliser qu'ils se laissent enchaîner.
Les mots sont vivants. Et parfois, les mots scellent le destin.
I'm a homicidal maniac, they look just like everyone else.
We fill the silence with our own insecurities.
The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. And if you hate me, that means you still care, and we're still connected.
I expect nothing, and I'm still let down.
your breath is still on my lips, your touch is on my fingertips
your tears are still on my cheek, your voice still makes me weak
gifts I will never give you, laughs I will never live with you
words that will never be spoken the moment I lose you
I didn't wanna love you, I didn't wanna go that deep
I didn't want a dream come true just to lose it while I sleep
every night I held you tight don't take him from me now
every day I'd wake and say I've got to keep him one more day
thank you, thank you for this day
Hope is the best spice to bring out despair.
He's right, Car. I am afraid. There's a part of me that wants to let him in but then I feel myself put this wall up and I don't understand why. Maybe that's what strikes me most about Kostas : that despite everything he's suffered he can still look at life in the most uncomplicated way. I've never known that kind of faith. It makes me so sad that people like Kostas and Bridget who have lost everything can still be open to love... while I, who have lost nothing, am not.
It was one of those really great conversations when you're talking someone you're tight with so you think they're listening. And then you look up one day and they've split so you stop talking and you stop dreaming.
Our memories make us what we are.
We all want romance. Love. Tenderness. Passion.
We want the adrenaline rush of the bad, and to still believe that good wins out over evil, that good people must be incapable of doing bad things. Which we all know is a load of junk.
Good and bad often come wrapped in the same package, don't they?
We just lean one direction or the other, depending on circumstances and personality.
Sometimes good people do bad things, and more importantly, sometimes bad people will do good things.
If it's humworthy, it's worthy.
The key is to get to know people and trust them to be who they are. Instead, we trust people to be who we want them to be... and when they're not, we cry.
The one is the person who sees you for the idiot you are, but they still want you in their life. That's the one.
It's a creation, Joan. It's not a destruction. And that's what I want you to do. I want you to be creative. I want you to build things. Relationships, possibilities, connections.
The capacity for self-sacrifice :
The conscious ability to override evolution and self-preservation for a cause, a friend or a loved one.
There are moments, when we all become someone else. Something other than what we are. It takes only a moment.
A mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it.
But a kiss can be even deadlier if you mean it.
Keating said everyone took turns reading and I don't want to do that.
Gosh, you really have a problem with that don't you?
No, I don't have a problem. I just don't want to do it, OK.
I just couldn't see someone throw her life away like that. Not again.
She didn't... she didn't kill herself.
Some people do it all at once. And some people do it a little bit every day.
I loved her.
I know. And I don’t know why that doesn’t matter.
For the well organized mind, Death is nothing but the next adventure.
You have a purpose and a role to fill... most days I don't feel like that at all.
My life happens very occasionally to suck beyond the telling of it. More than I can stand sometimes. And not just me. Every single person down there is ignoring your pain because they're way too busy with their own. The beautiful ones, the popular ones, the guys that pick on you... everyone. If you could hear what they're feeling -- the confusion, the loneliness... It looks quiet down there. It's not. It's deafening.