Unmodified Thought-Food

Очи Чорныя

2009-08-28T03:21:29Z


	<p><strong>Ты – ведьма, демоническая женщина и роковая тайна.</strong> Твои глаза – омуты, твои губы – плен, твое сердце – потемки.</p> <p>Ты – дурман, морок, бермудский треугольник и пропавшая Атлантида, полынный ликер, лунная рапсодия и костер, полыхающий беззвездной ночью.</p> <p>От твоих чар нет спасения – покоренный тобой никогда не забудет тебя: разве кто-нибудь может забыть северное сияние или пламя, сжигающее все на своем пути?</p> <p>Такие женщины, как ты, рождаются раз в столетие и живут в веках: редко бывают счастливы в общепринятом смысле «дом – полная чаша». Но зато никому больше не дано испытать чувства такой силы. Ты – женщина-мотылек: яркая вспышка, летящая комета и жизнь на одной струне, на раскаленной крыше. Всегда. Всегда. Всегда.</p>

Hasta Siempre Competicion

2008-07-13T08:44:29Z

Nathalie Cardone - Hasta Siempre Commandante Che Guevara - Nathalie Cardone</lj-embed>

Hasta Siempre Comandante Che Guevara - Al Di Meola</div>

Hasta Siempre Comandante Che Guevara - Buena Vista Social Club</div>

There exist all too many versions of the Latino song "Hasta Siempre Comandante". I am determined to select one of these versions to use to choreograph a rumba / cha-cha / bolero showcase (the dance will depend on the version chosen).
If anyone has preferences / recommendations as to which artist/group's version to use, please let me know. The song will be edited to approximately three minutes long (it can be cut anywhere, not necessarily the end or beginning). I am probably choosing between the above four versions.
If anyone does not get sick of listening to these... please help me choose. If you cast your vote... I'll compliment you creatively. Thanks.

Существует множество версий песни "Hasta Siempre Comandante". Я хочу выбрать одну из них, чтобы под нее схореографировать оригинальное выступление (румба, ча-ча или болеро - выбор танца зависит от избранной версии).
Если у кого-нибудь имеются рекомендации по этому поводу, выскажите, пожалуйста! Песня будет урезана до 3-х минут. Чтобы вам было легче: можете просто проголосовать за одну из четырех версий, включенных в эту запись, предварительно прослушав... все... если вас не стошнит. В благодарность пишу оригинальные комплименты всем голосующим. Спасибо.

Johari; Nohari

2008-07-06T20:28:50Z

http://kevan.org/johari?name=Ina+H.M.A.

http://kevan.org/nohari?name=Ina+H.M.A.

Renewed.

American Politics Briefly Re-Enter My LiveJournal

2008-03-25T02:32:20Z

Clarification of things vaguely discussed in reale.

In these elections, the furthest left I can go is the Democratic Party. As always. Currently, the nation is divided between two potential nominees; each with individual virtues observable through the media and others' blogs.
As an 'artistic' person, my natural magnetization is to the more charismatic figure. As a 'leftist', my natural trust is of the people-oriented figure. Senator Barack Obama would get my vote, were I in a position that permitted me to vote.
Natural instincts aside, however; a politician's rhetoric is only good until he is office, and no figure can be entirely people-oriented without being volunteered forth by the people.
There has been much discussion of Clinton's ostensible experience, as well as her greater corruption. There have also been parallels drawn between Obama's galvanizing abilities and the Bush Administration's fear-mongering tactics employed after 11.09.01. Both have weight and potential truth. Both have received a great deal of my pondering.
However; simply put, I am an involuntary non-voter. This government has given me no right, despite my fourteen years in this country and honest interest in its doings, to cast a ballot for a representative of any ideology or action. Hence, I am unbound by standard politics. I can support the figure that my natural instincts alone dictate. Perhaps one day he will give me my vote.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=Fe751kMBwms

I do not believe I will sorely regret my belief in this candidate. Despite his obvious reliance on the elusive concept of Hope, I cannot pretend to be otherwise.

Senator Obama, what can you do to help dissolve the legitimate uncertainty that runs subliminally through these hearts and minds? We want to follow you with every fiber of our beings; help us. We are prepared to aim for higher, more radical goals as long as you prove to be able to land us somewhere near them.

Voluntary voters, think. I am not riling you up. But if fear of inexperience is all that is hindering you, keep in mind.
He is one man. We are many.
If he can't do it,
Yes. We can.

We still can.

Ina.

ayalas @ 2008-02-21T15:20:00

2008-02-21T20:21:11Z

RIP Checkmate.

Pike - Линолеум / trans.

2008-02-01T00:34:04Z

Beautiful piece by

pike_the_great

Sometimes it seems to me that this winter will never end. The blame cannot be placed on snow or bone-shattering cold; on the contrary, it is their absence that makes the season seem infinite.

I look out through the train's windows, only briefly resting my gaze on the white snow-islands. The majority of the ground's surface is covered by grey-brown polenta. They promised a decline in temperature by the evening. Then the slush will freeze up a bit, only to melt again tomorrow. Such a feeling of transition between solid and liquid slush.
I ride with two bags and a rucksack. I am the only passenger in this car. I have a long way to go, till the last stop. I gape at the window again, for lack of any imagination to think of a better pastime. Outside, the white snow-islands still float by in the evening light, except, they are no longer white but light purple. And then I see HER!
Heavens! How old my memories are!
She walks along the tracks, observing and checking something. She has on the same old warm jacket as she wore that day. Over the jacket is thrown a uniform vest, orange with a grey horizontal stripe.
A long, long time ago, I slipped on some freshly washed linoleum in her kitchen, and, falling, cut my eyebrow on the corner of a stool. She took out an emergency kit - a small silver-colored case -, and I noticed on it the emblem that conductors wear on their vests - two crossed hammers and a whistle. That was when I first learned of her profession.
That means she still works on the railroad. So how many years had it been?
I knock on the window, then open it and shout. She turns in the direction of the sound and sees me. A sad smile appears on her lovely face. I lose my mind when she smiles. Only she can smile like that. I see that she is glad to see me. O, and how happy am I!
Of course, such an encounter is almost completely incredible and probably even impossible. If I were sober, I would not believe my eyes. But I am drunk on happiness. In moments like these, I do not think. I simply drown in her sun-gaze, in her sad and beautiful smile, and there is then nothing more.
The train begins to slow down before the station. She gestures to indicate that she will be awaiting me on the street by the vegetable market (our favourite place for our past meetings), and suggests that I leave the train. I grab for my bags...
Her gestures were always precise and flawless. If there was ever any ambiguity in them, it was that which she chose to implement. Watching her, one could literally observe the world silently and effortlessly organizing itself onto sunlit shelves. The most elementary concepts - love, protest, agreement, mood, common daily actions, wishes, feelings - fit into a gesture or two and do not need to be voiced. More complex, multifaceted ideas - irony, sarcasm, uncertain situations, mixed feelings, cause-and-effect paradigms - are usually marked by one concise, catchy word. And finally, unfurled descriptions of occurrences, explanations of phenomena or the passing of an informational bouquet (one still has to earn the bouquet, aha), painted with the rainbow of her shining person, her philosophies and her world, which is much wider and deeper than the world of word-building-blocks and atom-orbs (units of material), - easily happen by means of one, sometimes two or three short sentences. Her words whipped, nailed and stamped like the blow of a slipper stamps a cockroach into a wall. Anyone who dared argue with her was a pitiful sight.
So, I grab for my bags. The doors open, and I move towards the exit with the bags. God dammit, my backpack is not with me! There it is, under the seat, how could I forget about it!
I rush back; I lug the backpack towards the doors. Then my foot slips on the linoleum of the train floor; I lose balance and drop my bag. I bend to pick it up. My second foot betrays me and slips. I fall and jump up, hugging all my bags to me at once.
But the doors are already ruthlessly closing.
Damnation!
Everything falls from my hands. I stand, murdered, destroyed, squashed. The train already rushes on amid the idiotic purple snow-fungus. Damnation!!!
We had it planned; she's waiting for me down there! It does not happen this way; it cannot be this way! How long will she wait for me? What do I do?
I shout in the empty car. I howl, I sob, I jabber. This is a catastrophe, a tragedy! Ridiculous, funny. Owwww-oooowww!!... I sob, I howl, I beat these ridiculous, funny walls.
Where am I headed, why? Why do I live, exist? Who am I?!
I drag myself somewhere, without the bags. I wander in the darkening air, amid the little black drifts. The question of self-identification falls away; my minds are tangled; they are not there.
I walk through some door and descend into a basement-space, down a flight of filthy stairs, coated with peeling linoleum. Does it matter?.. I sit on some chair; computers and people are around me (it seems I have wandered into an Internet-cafe). Here I certainly do not have to think.
To the left of me is a queue before a small dirty window. Beneath the ceiling hangs a foggy clock, showing some time. I stand in the queue and soon am before the window.
"How may I help you?" - a ratty, androgenous creature measures me with a glance, leaking lazy hatred.
I've forgotten where I am, and I don't care. The glance wants me to speak.
"I don't know or want to know what you're doing here; what they're doing here [a movement of the head to the side] and who you all are. But I assert straight away, so as to avoid any intermisinterpretation: I do not need anything from you. You can think of me as a stereo, if you need some sound-background. But you cannot think of me as a tableau or a geometry book. Inside me is a void, like in that clock. And what about you? What is in you? Have you ever looked inside yourself?"
The ratty one's glance becomes wooden.
"When I was a child, I really liked listening to the radio," I say into the window. "I don't remember much, of course, but I remember this exactly: in the evenings I could hear the sounds of sirens; not sounds so much, more... I don't know... a pressure of sorts. I went into a basement... and there - people, exactly like me... thousands, hundreds of thousands... just like now... almost. The scariest thing was that after the bombings it was always... empty, I guess... for some time. Like now... And so. When they turned on the televisoin, I saw the General Secretary reading off a sheet. Every time. You don't know how that is... YOU DON'T KNOW!!!"
The last words were whispered. But even before them, the "cashier"(?) presses some button. Emptiness, alien absence. What more can I say? I cannot and don't want to say anything; I did not say anything and I won't.
I go up the stairs, but there, on the spit-speckled threshold, I am already awaited.
"Captain Morozov."
"Sergeant Kozlov."
The captain resembles Lukashenko.
"Have a good game?"
I look at "Lukashenko's" moustache. Nothing actually exists; everything is drawn on the vulgar, dirty linoleum.
"I didn't... play."
The linoleum freezes for a moment.
"Let's talk," - says the captain with sudden kindness, gesturing to me to move away from the entance, since I am not allowing people to use it.
We leave the threshold.
"You're not embarrassed?"
"I'm embarrassed," - I agree.
"She's still waiting for you."
"Still," - adds the sergeant.
The linoleum can be broken. But what does one do if there is emptiness beyond it too?
"Really?"
"Really."
Then who am I? I am also drawn. Break?
Now I know how easy it is to commit suicide. Too easy. When the linoleum is torn, and beyond it - a void... You don't know, you don't know anything...

Checkmate - Крыс.

2008-01-23T00:12:52Z

Checky.
Прибавление 31.12.07

ayalas @ 2008-01-14T20:48:00

2008-01-15T01:49:37Z

Кто Украл У РыБы Ноги?
Кто У крал у Рыбы Нос?
Кто Украл у Рыбы Руки?
И Куда Все Это Снес?

Кто Украл у Рыбы Голос?
(Неплохой Был Голосок...)
Кто Ее засунул в Воду?
Без Перчаток? Без Носок?

Кто Мозги Украл У Рыбы?
(и,... поставил ей свои...)
Кто Украл У Рыбы Сердце
И Лишил ее Любви?....

-Жека Кошмар

Сопротивление Нелюбви - Башаков Михаил / trans.

2008-01-11T00:58:56Z

In all of my resistance of unlove,
With flapping hands and flapping eyelids after
In all of my resistance of unlove,
With tears and with amazement and with laughter-
A Bacchus-song's articulated boasting,
A vis-a-vis that never blinked above
A purposeful, a full-glass-only toasting
In all of my resistance of unlove

And silence. And the plucking tunes,
In bouts of sloth and shallow impersistence,
A count of short months and of endless moons,
A count - that is in all of my resistance;
The race from her who's in my footsteps spinning,
With "Live for now" her condescending shove,
I wait, and my prognosis is of winning,
In all of my resistance of unlove

And every day, just like a card from patience,
I draw, predict, obey whatever's calling,
And into this sweet gift of my existence
Head over heels, again, again I'm falling

This is all my - all my resistance of unlove
This is all mine - all my restistance of unlove

Кооператив Звезда - Дети нового мира / trans.

2008-01-03T03:47:56Z

The most festive kitchens are full of the smell of fish frying
The universe is to its brim filled with swine-flesh a-burning
In the heavens a boulder is flying
At our faces the boulder is flying
The neighbors don't sleep - they're hearing the thump
Of the next guillotine's churning

Bald, reddened children are learning the practice of crying
Inside the white cardboard huts that the wind sends a-singing
And those who listened to Father
Lie with their feet pointed westward,
Their faces unknown and heads bared to the bone by
A heavy, unnamed iron reckoning

If at this moment we howl, then this world is to vanish,
A new one beginning to seep slowly in through the wall-cracks;
From inside the wall-cracks the new people will be appearing;
New-world children appearing, t'will happen! T'will happen!

Innocent people polish the ground with their faces,
Turn beastly and leave their saliva and semen as traces
Their God hears nothing but clapping;
Their God is probably napping-
A good empty prayer turns into a razor;
The razor cuts through veins and laces

Bald, reddened children are learning the practice of battle
By Grace are their faces; by smog are their ponderings coated
The slaves keep troweling and troweling,
The winds keep howling and howling;
The water evaporates; filth slowly separates
Into a cloud of dead ashes

If also we howl, then this world will evaporate also;
A new one beginning to seep slowly in through the wall-cracks;
From inside the wall-cracks the new people will be appearing;
New-world children appearing, t'will happen! T'will happen!

From inside the wall-cracks will come a new set of people;
New-world children appearing, t'will happen! T'will happen!
New-world children appearing; t'will happen! T'will happen!
New-world children appearing; I have faith - t'will happen!

Кооператив Звезда - Коричневый дождь / trans.

2008-01-03T03:45:58Z

Here I stand
On the dampening ground,
Empty mind,
Only dull ringing sounds,
Only grime,
And the dark endless lane,
Only smoke,
And the brown sullen rain

All is smoke,
Who is right, who is wrong
Brain is dry,
Fog is coating the sky,
Till the end
Always life, always fear
And deceit, the cruellest deceit

The brown sullen rain
Of money, of shit and of love
Crush it all and live on,
This is rain
Of tears, burning stenches and lies,
This rain isn't like anything else -
This is life

With each day,
All the signals grow fainter
on board
Of the ship lost at sea,
With each day,
Darkness claims bits of sky,
Any strength
That could fix sails is gone,
I am now
In no rush, I am here
I don't shout,
I am just barely breathing,
I'm here
There's no leaving my chains,
There's no flight in clouds and in rain

The brown sullen rain
Of money, of shit and of love
Crush it all and live on,
This is rain
Of tears, burning stenches and lies,
This rain isn't like anything else -
This is life

And they say
That our souls never rot;
That is true,
Given that there is pot,
And they say
That it's good to be here;
That is true,
Given powder is near,
And they say
That a human reigns fair;
That is true,
Given heroin's there;
And they say
Life has fragrance and sound;
That is true,
Given money's around,
And they say
Love can do anything;
That is true,
Given influence-rings,
And they say
Glad is easy to be;
That is true,
Given there's LSD,
And they say
That no boundaries run;
That is true,
Given you have a gun,
And they say
That the sunshine is yours;
That is true,
Given you can afford,
And they say...
So, what else do they say?

Come listen. Hear them?
Drops make their way
Down the earth,
On our fate, on the wall,
This is rain, it's inside of us all

The brown sullen rain
Of gold and of blood and of hate
All the curses don't wait,
This is rain
Of corpses and people and cars,
This rain enters the flesh like a knife -
This is life

ДДТ - Прекрасная любовь / trans.

2008-01-03T03:44:39Z

The floral musics go,
Beginning like no song had -
I hear these sounds, and always
Like memories they seem

Some time so long ago,
Betrothed was to a nomad
The loveliest of loves,
That gave to people dreams

The loveliest of loves
Betrothed was to a nomad -
Their paths forever binded
By crystal bridging seams

O, loveliest of loves!
Now is no time for laughter!
The sunset still is bloody
In its fall on the lands

O, loveliest of loves!
Deceit grew there soon after;
It rules our sorry people
With rotten, steely hands

O, loveliest of loves!
The living there await you
Come show your shining splendour
To those led to their ends!

In darkness and in filth,
But still not blind with hatred,
Give freedom to their knowledge,
Give hearts some chance to mend!

And so the loveliest of loves
Flew in, the city's savior;
The people wept in wonder -
At long last they could wake!

The throne of lies crashed down;
The tyrant fled in terror;
A pity that the nomad died
Outside the city gates...

ДДТ - Осень / trans.

2008-01-03T03:42:09Z

Tell me, what is autumn - it's the heavens;
Weeping skies beneath the feet astride them
Puddles break apart the clouds and the birds that ride them;
Autumn, I have missed our times together
Puddles break apart the clouds and the birds that ride them;
Autumn, I have missed our times together

Autumn, burning ships in the sky
Autumn, from this earth I would fly
Where in oceans sorrow can drown
Autumn - endlessly down

Tell me, what is autumn - it's the boulders;
Loyalty above the darkened rivers;
Autumn once again reminds the soul of what is shoulders;
Autumn, my lost peace around me shivers
Autumn once again reminds the soul of what it shoulders;
Autumn, my lost peace around me shivers

Autumn, burning ships in the sky
Autumn, from this earth I would fly
Where in oceans sorrow can drown,
Autumn - endlessly down

Tell me, what is autumn - it's the wind's rise
Playing yet again with chains unmended
Autumn, can we make it to an answer and an uprise?
What will be this land and those it's rended?
Autumn, can we make it, can we crawl into a sunrise?
Autumn, what will be when night has ended?

Autumn, burning ships in the sky
Autumn, from this earth I would fly
Where in oceans sorrow can drown,
Autumn - endlessly down

Autumn, burning ships in the sky
Autumn, from this earth I would fly
Where in oceans sorrow can drown,
Autumn - endlessly down

Fading flocks of cities in dew;
Autumn, what had I known of you?
How long will these torn leaves stay bright?
Autumn, endlessly right...

ДДТ - Родина / trans.

2008-01-03T03:40:40Z

Heavens!
All the years I have walked, and not taken a step
Heavens!
All the days I have sought what has always been there
All the years I've been gnawing, in bread's place, my single raw love!
All the lives that the steely black muzzle spits into my head!

Long-awaited and wide!
Blackening headlights by the neighboring gate,
Buttercups, handcuffs and torn mouth await
All the times that my rolling, my poor severed head,
From the o'erflowing gallows, has flown off to where is

Motherland!
I go now to Motherland!
Jeering "ugly", watch them stand,
But I swear she pleases me!
Though she's not a sight to see;
Horrid and too gullible,
But to us - there she is, here we go, here we go, here we go...
Hey, Commander!

Heavens!
So much truth in the eyes of the government's whores!
Heavens!
So much faith in the ex-executioner's hands!
And we will not let them roll their sleeves up again,
And we will not let them roll their sleeves up again,
In the busy night-stands!

Blackening headlights by the neighboring gate,
Buttercups, handcuffs and torn mouth await
All the times that my rolling, my poor severed head,
From the o'erflowing gallows, has flown off to where is

Motherland!
I go now to Motherland!
Jeering "ugly", watch them stand,
But I swear she pleases me!
Though she's not a sight to see;
Horrid and too gullible,
But to us - there she is, here we go, here we go, here we go...
Hey, Commander!

From the black cotton shirts, the red rooster springs free;
From beneath kindly kings flows to lips marmalade;
Not one time could this poor world accomodate two:
All our fathers were God, and the Devil, Motherland!

I go now to Motherland!
Jeering "ugly", watch them stand,
But I swear she pleases me!
Though she's not a sight to see;
Horrid and too gullible,
But to us - there she is, here we go, here we go, here we go...
Hey, Commander!

ayalas @ 2007-03-28T14:03:00

2007-03-28T18:03:22Z

*Your Life: The Soundtrack*
Opening credits:	Nina Hagen - My Way
Waking up:	Carlos Santana - Europa
Average day:	Rammstein - Du Richst So Gut
First date:	Guns N' Roses - Rocket Queen
Falling in love:	Nautilus Pompilius - Polina's Morning
Love scene:	Kipelov - I'm Here
Fight scene:	Bright Eyes - A Lover I Don't Have to Love
Breaking up:	Guns N' Roses - I Used to Love Her
Getting back together:	Morrissey - You Have Killed Me
Secret love:	Carlos Santana - Smooth
Life's okay:	Loituma - Ievan Polkka
Mental breakdown:	Cradle of Filth - Nymphetamine
Driving:	Bon Jovi - It's My Life
Learning a lesson:	Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
Deep thought:	Ku-Ku - Violets
Flashback:	Aria - Lost Paradise
Partying:	Guns N' Roses - Nightrain
Happy dance:	The Witches - There She Is
Regreting:	Arc Gotic - Souvenir
Long night alone:	Lacrimosa - The Party is Over
Death scene:	The Smiths - Asleep
Closing credits:	Internationale
Take this survey \| Find more surveys \| MySpace Surveys Bzoink - The Original Survey Site

ayalas @ 2007-02-03T11:34:00

2007-02-03T16:34:30Z

You make me smile. Without skepticism.

ayalas @ 2006-12-19T14:26:00

2006-12-19T19:27:39Z

Yay for menthol Marlboros.

Fuck coppers.

2006-11-16T20:56:58Z

A student gets tasered in UCLA library for not having a proper ID.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyvrqcxNIFs

ayalas @ 2006-10-30T18:24:00

2006-10-30T23:27:18Z

I just want someone to make everyone stop what the fuck they are doing for 1 day and sit down and look at the bloody world they have made. If they saw a collage of everything that was wrong and fucked up with the world at the moment blasting them at top speed, they would understand.
-Chris Johnstone

ayalas @ 2006-10-24T00:12:00

2006-10-24T00:16:33Z

“Man will become immeasurably stronger, wiser, and subtler; his body will become more harmonious, his movements more rhythmic, his voice more musical. The forms of life will become dynamically dramatic. The average human type will rise to the heights of an Aristotle, a Goethe, or a Marx. And above these heights, new peaks will rise.”
-Leon Trotsky

ayalas @ 2006-10-21T17:46:00

2006-10-21T21:47:48Z

Me: She's beautiful.
Mother: She's a rat.

Oliver Cromwell

2006-10-19T20:24:28Z

"I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken."

"No one rises so high as he who knows not whither he is going."

"Do not trust the cheering, for those persons would shout as much if you or I were going to be hanged."

Still relevant today, no?

ayalas @ 2006-10-19T19:05:00

2006-10-19T19:12:21Z

He jumps up on a chair in the middle of the meeting.

"Oh no! No! There are giant slugs, all with the face of Karl Rove, slithering all over the floor!"
-Daemien.

Polit.

2006-10-17T23:34:16Z

To those uninformed, a U.S. aircraft carrier was sent to the nation of Iran yesterday. This clear hint at a possible invasion of this nation surprised me and angered me a great deal, I must say; I would have expected North Korea to come first. However, let us be human.
Does race matter when it comes to civilians being massacred?
Does race matter when it comes to two armies, offensive and defensive and interchangeably so, massacring each other?
Does race matter when we are all human and yesterday's events promise nothing but more destruction of this entity, of us as a species?
I would think not.
Therefore, to move off the topic of which country we are to ransack - a few thoughts on what would happen if it were to occur.
Death. Primarily, unnecessary death.
Economic instability. We will be left an impoverished country after Our Leader leaves office. However, economic instability is political instability, and, I must say, a ray of hope - hope of the Democratic-Republican pendulum's swing finally coming to a halt. A chance for a more responsible party, with a less tainted and self-centered agenda (at least due to it being novel), perhaps earning the approval of the masses.
The masses, I must say, are everything. Education of the masses is everything. There are those who do not vote because they know nothing. After this external business is through, they will know, for the sheer fact that they will be affected. Perhaps, and the chances are slim, but perhaps there will be an overwhelming majority; a legal revolution.

I promise you. It will be hard. I can call Americans countrymen despite not being a citizen. So, it will be very hard, countrymen. But I have hope for the future. With our 300 000 000 inhabitants, we can do it.

[Now, if somebody will place a bullet in the cranium-space of our Imperialist God On Earth, I will be grateful.]

ayalas @ 2006-10-16T23:14:00

2006-10-16T23:18:44Z

Me: Daemien, get me a raven.
Daemien: I already got you a bat. Oh! I didn't tell you. I got you a bat.
Me: Is it a live bat?
Daemien: You'll see.
Me: No, I've gotta know. Is it a fuzzy bat? A rubber bat? Ha, I know it's a rubber bat. Or... is it a BASEBALL BAT??? You realize I'd get really pissed if you gave me a baseball bat?
Daemien: Do you think I'd give you a baseball bat, knowing you'd get pissed?