Furamo had its 20th birthday a couple of weeks ago. I’ve had this blog for more than half of my life. In the old days, without Facebook and Twitter, Furamo used to be bigger than me. More people had probably seen my blog than seen my face, and when they finally met me, they introduced themselves by saying: “Hey, I’ve read your blog.”
I celebrated Furamo’s birthday with more celebrations than I held for myself. But look at us now. Furamo, somewhere forgotten in the dark corners of the Internet, and me, maybe still even smaller that this site, here, forgotten in the darkness of my room.
I called a friend today and complained that my computer runs slow. So he said: “Come and I will build you a new one. Right. Now.” And I complied. He got someone to pick me up, pick up some new PC parts that I had to pay for, and take me to his place.
I only kept the graphics card from my old computer, everything else was replaced. The old PC had been all full of dust, so to get my recycled graphics card to be acceptable enough, it had to be cleaned. For that, my friend had a mysterious aluminum bottle that looked like your average water bottle, and a small, strange, loud device that compressed 4 car tires worth of air into the aforementioned bottle. Then he sprayed the pressurized air all over my video card and it got clean as new.
While he was working on the computer, I just sat around and drank some beer, constantly being startled by noticing my friend’s life sized plush dog from the corner of my eye. It looked so realistic that if you didn’t look at it closely you thought it was alive.
Later my sister came to drive me and my new computer back to my place. She said she had the same reaction about the dog – that when she noticed it, she instantly wanted to pet it before realizing it was fake.
So anyway my new rig has an Intel(R) Core(TM) i5-14600KF and stuff. Not that I understand much of that. What matters to me is the rainbow colored lights from the new computer lighting up my room, and that I can play video games again. I am most grateful for that.
I was out shopping for a bucket of cream, because winter makes my skin dry.
So, at the pharmacy, I found a bucket similar to the one I had emptied just before, but the new one felt way smaller. I asked one of the employees if they had any buckets of more significant size for my significant moisturizing needs, but got told that the bucket in my hands was the biggest ol’ bucket of cream that they had. So I bought it.
After I got back home and looked at both of the buckets next to each other, I realized they had exactly the same volume and weight. It was just the shape of the bucket that had changed. Geometry sure is weird sometimes.
Old bucket on the left – New on the right
The Tale of Sweltering Heat
A friend of mine was having a birthday party. I was there too. He ordered some food. The food arrived. The first hungry guy ate some, and instantly ran to the kitchen to try and douse the fire in his mouth. It turned out, the food had been seasoned with Carolina Reaper, which was until recently the hottest pepper in the world. I decided to skip that food and watched the others eat it.
A few days later, I asked my friend how his anus had been doing the day after the remarkable meal. He only replied with this image:
The Tale of Bygone Passages
Facebook discontinued the Lite Messenger app that I had been using, so I was forced to download the full version. It has been advertising me people who I haven’t talked to for 10-20 years. So, since it was already showing me these weird people from the past, I messaged many of them.
It turns out some people are happy talking to you after 20 years. Like one of them that I last spoke to when we were in middle school together. But some others have moved on with their lives so much, that they just aren’t interested in chatting anymore.
When I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to appreciate people and events from the past more and more. The older the thing, the more I’m lovin it. So – chatting with these people feels really nostalgic, interesting and enjoyable, even with the ones who themselves are not that interested in the conversation. But I seriously am grateful for those who – after all these years – are writing to me in a way that makes me feel like no time has passed at all and we’re still the friends we used to be.
Haven’t talked to me for a decade or two? Comment below how you have been doing.
The weather is blazing hot, food prices have doubled because of the uncontrolled inflation, and that has also made the hobos more bold and desperate. After I’ve had a drink somewhere on the street, I’ve given the empty can to a homeless person instead of throwing it away and now they have learned that they can get cans and bottles straight from people, instead of rummaging for them in garbage cans. It’s quite alarming.
Like, you’re standing on the street, having the traditional Eastern European breakfast of Red Bull and a cigarette, and all these bums pick up the sight of it and swarm towards you like flies. One of them asks for your energy drink can so they can exchange it for 10 cents, while you’ve barely had a sip from it. The other one asks for a smoke and keeps bothering you until you pull out your knife from your pocket and offer the knife to his kidney instead of a cig in his mouth. Then he decides it is not worth the risk and leaves you alone.
I mean, I understand that they are just people, and that I am permanently close to their status due to my sketchy financial situation. So I ought to be more respectful towards them. But you also gotta understand me, because of the aforementioned constantly looming financial crisis that I’m in I can’t really spare them my resources.
Another thing is, some guy keeps going through my garbage at night. Like, he enters our backyard, gets to the garbage can and makes a huge mess and a lot of noise sorting the trash, so that my neighbor wakes up and is wondering what the hell is going on. It gives me a slight bit of satisfaction that the garbage guy has to go through my coom napkins before he gets to whatever he is looking for. But it is still extremely unsettling that you have no privacy in your garbage container.
The economic situation all around is pretty messed up and these kinds of things will continue happening, more and more. Having a knife or another weapon in your pocket all the time certainly seems necessary going forward.
So, have you had anything interesting of those sorts happen recently or have you yourself become homeless? Leave a comment below.
