Keyser Söze is disgusted with what you thought of when you read the heading. No, prescription Keyser Söze is not writing about the most recent gang bang movie that Keyser Söze watched (“Prisoners of Love, diagnosis ” a cinematographical gem). In fact, the topic of this post is to celebrate the fact that within only two days of starting this blog, Keyser Söze has already passed the five millionth unique visitor mark (according to the bloggometrics of Teknorati). This vote of confidence from the members of the international interwebs community is truly gratifying to Keyser Söze’s soul (or would be if Keyser Söze had one). Now if only you people would leave comments…
The meme doing the rounds among all the best bloggers is to ask oneone to “share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself, cheap ” and since Keyser Söze knows no better blogger than Keyser Söze’s humble self, ed Keyser Söze will “tag” Keyser Söze.
1) Keyser Söze rolls his own cigarettes with dried newts and uses them as suppositories (but for reasons of discretion and out of a fear of potential lawsuits, treatment he declines to say on whom).
2) Keyser Söze had the courage to ask out the most beautiful person in his high school to the prom, but was embarrassed to hear that Keyser Söze already had a date.
3) Keyser Söze’s favorite television show is “Fast Times with Nancy Grace” – damn that bitch is *hot*!
4) Keyser Söze’s favorite Hallowe’en costume is a naughty school girl. He is *hot* in that pleated tartan skirt!
5) The first person that Keyser Söze wanted to vote for was Milly Vanilla, but he couldn’t decide which.
6) Keyser Söze once saw a truck full of turkeys being transported to the slaughter house pass by his car at a red light, and Keyser Söze has felt guilty about eating meat ever since. They were so unsuspecting, enjoying their outing (“Hey, Bob, it sure is cool to get out of that coop for a change!”) and totally unaware of the final destination (“Chet, I don’t recognize this place, you got any idea where we’re going?”), but Keyser could do nothing for them. “First, they came for the turkeys, but I said nothing. Then when they came to turn Keyser Söze into soylent green…”
I’d tag that sly Keyser Söze now, but I hear he doesn’t do stupid things like this on principle.
Prince Otto von Bismark: Last week, levitra I went to Königsberg, prostate but it was closed.
King William I of Prussia: But how can a city be clothed?
POvB: No, not “clothed,” “closed.”
KWIoP: What’s that? Come closer?
POvB: Oh, never mind, your dim-witted highness.
Reputable historians are of the opinion that Bismarkian humor loses something in the translation.
Proof that Canadians are liars.
Keyser Söze wishes to remind his cultured readers that among the hip and trendy it is considered déclassé to use Wikipedia in any form but Huikipedia.
Damn that Nebo and his stooping: Isaiah 46:1.
Here’s the great Illyés Gyula reciting his poem Egy mondat a zsarnokságról (a sentence about tyranny).
Keyser Söze grants that the poem is about a leftist’s realization of the meaning of tyranny under a Stalinist dictatorship, treat but the mere sound of the impelling cadences of the beautiful Hungarian language cannot fail to cause a true Hungarian patriot such as Keyser Söze to feel the urge to come sweeping out of the barren wastes of the Eurasian steppe in order to commit rapine, plunder and looting among the patak city-dwellers of the wealthy and decadent lowlands of Wallachia. You know, Keyser Söze has always gotten the idea of rapine, but what exactly the difference is between looting and plundering is a question that has been a source of great puzzlement to the heart of Keyser Söze. I guess you just have to swoop out of the steppes and after indulging in a bit of fun rapine try out a some looting and then some plundering in order to savor the subtle yet sweet difference. Ahhh…..
Oh, and for those of you not blessed with the ability to understand the poetical glories of the magyar nyelv, here’s some high school kid with a funny hat giving an English version in a funny accent.
Remember–in any upcoming election, steer clear of the Stanlinists. You can’t say that Illyés Gyula didn’t warn you.
Keyser Söze grants that he has been remiss in posting the past half day or so, generic and some of you have undoubtedly wondered, “Given the number of posts on day one, has Keyser Söze found it impossible to keep up the pace? Could it be, perchance, that he has buckled under the strain and done the unspeakable?” Well, have no fear, dear non-existent reader, Keyser Söze has in fact done the unspeakable on innumerable occasions, and shame on you for suggesting that he has done it until now. No, the fact is that my earlier post about the Georgians has turned out to be an error of monumental proportions. Truth be told, Keyser Söze has been deluged with countless email from speakers of Abkhaz, Mingrelian, Laz, Ubykh, Circassian and sundry other tongues of the Caucasus. It seems that some people have taken my post bespeaking the good nature of the Georgians as betokening a corresponding disparagement of other ethnic groups in the area, and I have been spending hours and hours sending off emails making it clear that my good will towards the Georgians extends to all inhabitants of the region. It further turns out that the answers I’ve received to my missives have contained threats of flogging, dismemberment and other sorts of physical torment that are normally associated only with the Dummercrat primary season.
So, listen up, peeps of the Caucaus. Keyser Söze loves you all, and can’t we just forget the vendettas and feuds stretching back to time immemorial and live together in peace and harmony? No? Didn’t think so. Well, let’s at least agree that Keyser Söze’s testicles are best situated in the present location and would not be improved by being shoved down his throat.
And I think we can all agree that it was Ossetian vagrant who raped Stalin’s mother. Let that thought unite our hearts as one!
On the whole, treat Keyser Söze is of the opinion that if God cared what Keyser Söze thought about God, look then God would send him an email. Or maybe one of those cute eCards with dancing bunnies and the such like on them. Yet God maintains His aloof silence.
But sometimes it seems as the Lord of Hosts speaks directly into the ear of His beloved: