Air Holes

I drank a glass of something that tasted like water and somehow found out that it was Phenylalanine. Recalling that it’s a lethal poison, I rushed to check whether I can save my life. I found the website of the people who invented it. It was written in a modern informal Web 2.0 style and said something like this:

The only antidote is to drink as much clean cold water as you can to dilute the toxicity during the first 18 minutes since intake. After that you can try drilling air holes in your casket, but we doubt that it will help.

I drank a lot of water and it saved my life.

It was a dream, of course. Phenylalanine is not a lethal poison, and it’s likely that we all consume a lot of it every day. It’s not the first time that I dream about poisoning from a substance that is not a poison in real life; last time I remember this happening, it was Papaverine.

Most curiously, it was in English. That probably has something to do with the fact that despite preaching to use native languages, I still mostly search the web in English for useful life-saving stuff, and that I get most of my humor in English as well.

It may also have something to do with Stan’s Previously Used Coffins.



I met a school friend and found out that she has cancer. It was very sad. And then, instead of killing her, it turned her into a phonograph.

My highschool friend had cancer. First it made her shrink, then it turned her into a phonograph.
My highschool friend had cancer. First it made her shrink, then it turned her into a phonograph.

Then i was offered to host an “Amazing Race“-style reality show. I accepted the offer, ‘cuz the money was good, but quickly found out that all the contestants are totally disgusting people. So i asked to quit. To convince me to stay the producer offered me a free trip to Barcelona. But i refused. So he told me that thanks to me the show enjoys high ratings and promised me to donate half of the advertising revenue to cancer research. So i recalled the sad story of my school friend and agreed.

Shortly after i arrived at Barcelona, a phonecall from an ISP salesperson woke me up.

P.S. I sincerely wish Jade Goody and her family all the best.


I was riding my new iPod, i mean Segway, and trying out different things. Like weird turns and jumps and stuff. Really easy and fun.

Then i tried going downstairs. I heard that iPod is able to do it. (Did i say iPod? I meant Segway.) It actually worked like magic: The wheels took the right shape and started climbing downstairs. I felt very stable.

Then i suddenly noticed a wheel. An iPod—damn it!—A Segway wheel! Now that was worrying. I saw someone else climbing down with his iP…Segway, but his wheels look fine. I looked down at my wheels and alas, i indeed was missing a wheel. This thing’s safety is great if it can stably climb stairs with wheels missing!

As i arrived at the bottom of the stairs, i parked my iPod at the iPod parking, which promptly disappeared, complete with my iPod. Hold on a minute! This is too much. First—i should stop confusing iPod and Segway all the time; second—why is it disappearing? I can understand the real estate problem, but how am i supposed to find it now? I came closer and it reappeared. Oh, the wonders of technology.

I called a few of my friends so they could come and see this wondrous new toy of mine. While waiting for them i knelt down to fix the missing wheel. After a few seconds someone grabbed my leg and started pulling me up to the sky. At about 50 meters i saw my friends naked and frightened on the ground.

I was rising up quickly. The view was beautiful, but the situation, quite naturally, freaked my out. I realized that the one who was pulling my up was probably God. Soon afterward, someone—God, i guessed—started tapping on my upper left arm.

Actually it was just Hadar. She said that i made looked scared and weird during this dream.

Pigs (Two Different Ones)

There was a competition of sculptors.

The sculptors sat in a backstage room and received assignments from the public, performed them as quickly and beautifully as they could and were scored in both categories.

One of the assignments was to create a sculpture of a pig from soft clay. One young sculptor created a big beautiful sculpture of a boar very quickly, but it was heavy, so he asked the stage worker to bring the sculpture to the stage.

— “I have bad experience with this”, said the stage worker, “If I drag it to the stage, the soft clay will lose its form before i get to the stage. Are you sure you want to do this?”

— “Yes, of course! Do it already!”

The stage worker did as the sculptor asked. The beautiful statue of a pig lost its form completely until he got to the stage. The sculptor was booed and lost all the points.

Another sculptor saw what happened and decided to avoid it. He created a small statue of piglet, put it on a tray and carried it to the stage himself. The statue kept its form, but it was so beautiful, that the piglet became alive and ran away.


Poland is paralyzed by unprecedented riots over … legalization of abortion … or trade unions … or something.

The news on all TV stations show people blocking streets and impossibly huge traffic jams.

A particularly dramatic shot showed a semitrailer getting out of the jam and desperately falling from a mountainous highway to the sea. The truck drowned, of course, but the driver got out somehow, and in an interview he said that he fully supports the protesters.

Interpol (Flash) wrote a song about it, called “What the Fuck?”

The great part about all of this is that since it came to me in a dream, i can perform this song as my own.