piniata

I was at a brit today. Nothing makes you want to write more than the holy union between God, Abraham, Israel and a baby that screams as if, well as if his penis is being cut.
Fricking hell. Is there anything more horrific. There is this baby lying in his crib:”I wonder if it’s time for me to open my eyes. Something fells cold in the down area. I wonder what tha…whoooohaaaa!”.
Why couldn’t Abraham connect with God through something simpler, like a Lance Armstrong bracelet. At eight days we would come, put a bracelet on a baby and then nash on some buns with pickles.
The Mohel’s name is David Tzhik-tzhak. Very famous around the religious Kibbutzes at the center of Israel. He’s the fastest Mohel in the west. You haven’t finished saying please God save us and he’s already in his Peugeot on his way to another still full foreskin customer.
As a non religious Jew I must understand. What’s the deal with the “oh God please save us” prayer before the Brit. Are they hoping that just seconds before the cut, God’s hand would come down and say to David “you can stop now. I’m here. You don’t need to cut him”. David would be bummed because than he wouldn’t be able to prove how fast he is (a man has to prove how good he is at his capabilities. After you learn how to put a shelf up you’d put shelves for bums on the street that only have their McDonald’s cup full of Shekels to put on your shelf) but there is nothing he could do. He gave God the option to save and God indeed saved. Hooray for God.
But the thing that seems to me as the number one bummer is that with one stroke of the knife you enter the world to the Jewish nation. Yes, all of us (well, most of us) are proud to be Jews. The long tradition, Mozes, Mezada, The six day war, David Brenner, it’s all good. But who would actually choose to be a Jew With all the Anti, the persecution, the guilt, the gefilte-fish? who needs it?. Wouldn’t you rather be a Christian sitting in Oslo who’s entire hardship is summed by an Elk obstructing his view of a fiord?
With one stroke and we send the kid into years of feeling bad about the girls he date and with an over concern for his mom. Years of obscure ceremonies (“Vayevarech Elohim et bnei Yisrael le’eeemor” two months of preparation for a five minute humiliation at saturady 6 am) and a nation that still yearns to be free but advertises Eilat as the vacation capitol of the world? Jesus. No wonder the kid is going to circumcise his own kid. Revenge. I wish God would save. But who can outperform David Tzik tzak.
Perhaps the best thing would be to give the child the possibility to choose. At age thirteen instead of reading a sermon about David and his morning surprise (I understand I was nothing more than your boy-toy but why did you take all the hair?) the kid choose if he wants a brit. But I know that then the percentage of those that choose to be Jews would be around five.”no, I can’t come play playstation. I need to ice my dick. Yeah. At least two more weeks”. It’s true that Muslims do it but they also find it relatively easy to convince its members that dying through explosions is the way to go.
Therefore I return to my previous point. A lance Armstrong bracelet. That way not only will the kid choose but with a doubt he will want to become a Jew. What kid would choose to be different? The problem will begin when dealers will start selling counterfeit Jew bracelets for half the price. But kids would identify the real one. Just like the kid who wears a pair of Livi’s. close but not quite cool.
p.s the kid that would get the original Jew bracelet for half the price he’s definitely a genuine Jew. Nothing better than jewing down people for the Jewish symbols.
p.p.s just to give a call out. If you decide on giving your kid a circumcision, no matter if it’s because you’re a good Jew or because it’s meant to give extra pleasure to the ladies, let a doctor do it. Hell do it with anesticia and the kid won’t even know. That will at least save step one towards therapy. Obviously therapy will eventually come. He’s a Jew. But he’ll only go back to his ninth day of living.

2am

incidents in the life of yozi
it's two am. i should so be sleeping. but i just read a comment that someone said about how he reached me and tthe link shows that there is a money value on blogs. or i may be completely wrong. but if there is, hell i'll write all night. i'll be bigger than al Gore's blog (dear blog. checked my comments again. still nothing. why is everyone so afraid to say any thing. i will not bite. hard). i'll even add in links. apparantly links are cool. so i'll add a link to one of my favourite sites. if only there was one. so i'll just send a link to some random stupidity. this is the source of half of my jokes. and it's a damn shame i only got comments on my last entry. i want to make it clear. i don't americans. well not more than i hate israelis. there are dumb people everywhere. it's not political to say it and probably people can call me a pretentious idiot and never read me again (but then they'll miss my next entry in which i wrestle with an alligator). but i have a good american friend if that wasn't clear. and fuck it. apparantly cynicism is not good for evryone. so is taking a thermometer through the anus yet i continue doing it. shit. i should stop writing now. but trust me on the sunscreen. oh, and the guy who said he doesn't poke people with a stick. i'm glad. you really shouldn't do that. and with this heal the world sentence i conclude this non sequitor. more on the world soon.

the next dennis leary (or gilbert gotfried)

Ok I want to talk about America. My room mate and occasional soul mate is an American in Israel (I'm sure most of you read his blog, since otherwise you wouldn't be reading this blog). As such he has a tendency to yearn for American items or American women (they swallow, according to him. On the other hand they also believe Jesus is the savior so it evens out). Being an American it is hard for me to refer to him as soul mate seeing how he's an idiot. And that's the whole truth in a nutshell- Americans are pretty dumb. Funny, but dumb. Of course we are smarter since we can drive a tank and wear ribbons of different colors to express our opinions.orange- you're a crazy fascist, blue -you're ravishly gay and red- you are polite on the road. yeah. no one wears the red one. ususally people that try to hand them out also wear blue and we know what they are. But I am not trying to look down on Americans. God knows I wish to be in the states and have as much twinkies as I can eat at one munchie. The only reason I am feeling obliged to put Americans down is due to their numerous columns about Israel and Israelis. True that those columns are usually in websites which only dorks read, but seeing how all those dorks are Americans the vicious circle continues and he's about the devour all the Krembo (the Israeli ding dong or trip top or munushy or what ever dumb name there is for a cookie with whipped cream covered with chocolate. You see- cream=krem inside it= bo. all together=Krembo. Hebrew food is logical. Yet I doubt that the dogs of the devil are soft, filled with cream and covered with chocolate).

First of all- America. Where do you come from? "America. I'm an American". Yeah? Are you from Panama? Cause that's America too. And Canada? They're even bigger than you are! Sure they're as funny as the stick you have left after finishing your Popsicle but at least they're not pretentious.
Second- in case anyone's wondering here's how you can spot Americans. Ask them to call you later. when they call, If they say :"Hi it's Ami Riller". You know it's an American. Why do I need your last name? Do we need to be formal when you just want to know how much I am selling my Subaru for? (A Japanese car. In case you're Americans there are other cars in the world besides cars that could fit a hearse in them. yes being an Israeli i still believe all Americans drive Caddilacs, money rolls on the ground and people won't even move you to the side if you die on the sidewalk. at most they'll poke you with a stick. with a Nike logo). another way- they wear caps. I don't know why. You're inside the house. It's not even warm. Your hair…well it has the shape of a dying turtle, but that's only because of the stupid cap. my only guess is that it's meant to cover your brain from heating up so that next time if someone ask you where you're from you won't say: I live above Mexico. I am an under Canadian.

And finally- the food. My roommate (yes he has a frickin' blog. He likes saying fuck a lot. Sometimes in the most erroneous of places- "man I just saw your grandma. She's a fuckin' grandma!" although true, somewhat in appropriate. And sometimes he just uses fuck instead of words- "I am so hungry I could fuckin'!" but he does make a mean Matzo ball so all is forgiven.)wrore about the chemicals of the beloved Israeli drink- Petel. A colory drink. We all get hooked on it since kindergarden. I once sucked a weewee for Petel but that's irrelevant (best Petel I ever had). As a response I thought of writing about American food. But I just couldn't come up with anything which would be completely appropriate so here's something instead :
Poptarts, Luckycharms, Devildogs, Twinkies, Caramellos, ElFudge, Doritos- tangy and all others, cool aid, Twizzlers and more chips. It's all crap. Delicious, delicious McCrap. It's like there was a war and chemicals had to find a place to meet, so they resided in a 7-11.inside the food. The slogan for all American food should be-"You can taste the lack of quality" (but you'll gulp it down. You Cap wearing morons).
I'm just happy the north won. At least eating Aunt Jamima isn't racist. And if the negros say it is, learn from us. Run them over with a tank.

random thoughts on my deprived youth

incidents in the life of yozi

it so happens that lately i've been talking a lot to my roommate (ari. yes he's a geek too. the geek that actually started this geek off) about our fucked up families. now i don't want to go too much into details but it's a close battle which relies on who has more schizophrenic uncles or manic depressive mother/father/ 27 year old puppy. it is important for me to say that in case my family reads this- i love you guys, but you have to admit that there's something wrong with us ( something that my mom never understands- "you should be thankful about your mom, now be quiet or i'll stab you with this spoon"). But the deal is, apparently everyone wants in on this game. Apparently there are only about five people who think they have a functioning family. and those that think it usually work at the dmv, just itching to use that new Indian bow and arrow they bought on their latest trip to turkey- where the towels are free don't you know.
and it's great that we know it. Because when we'll be horrible parents the least we can do is apologize to our children every now and then. and indeed we should all look into our selves and say " i am fucked and i know it. my parents did shit. now what do i do with it?" well you can go to therapy and pinpoint every occasion you got fucked and how it matters today ( "oh, so that's why ican't ride tricycles. the hole in the jammies incident. i remember that...") and that would be great. we should do that. as for me, seeing how i can only afford therapy done by the local well dressed hobo or the guy who sells watermelons ( two for ten nis. you should see children running to him. he's the new icecream man. watermelons instead of ice cream. now here's a trauma just waiting to evolve), i decide to laugh at it. hopefully to laugh somewhere around people. or to divert it into my job. nothing better than a crying social worker. but if you want to clean yourself- laugh it out. then cry. then do a stand up on it. don't be the guy/girl in the office everyone thinks is funny yet cries cries in the lonely night (much like britney spears' lucky. and while your at it, say something nasty about the government. they suck too.

incidents in the life of yozi

incidents in the life of yozi

a few weeks ago i sat in the bank,waiting in this huge line. since i was number 764 and they just served number 26 i knew ihad some time. so i read my book (i study english lit so i usuaay must reas msterpieces for my classes. i always hope that some professor will see me reading "grapes of wrath" and will start an intellectual debate with me which will result in me taking part in an educated panel discussing modern literature and art, in which i would try to babble since i only read five books all in all. or an easy intellectual girl would find me irresitible. non ever happened.)as is lwaysthe case in places with long lines, next to me sat apretty big 60 year old wo kept complaining that they are always like this and that they never open another teller.as part of my stuggle to try and get people to think and act, i decided to answer her and asked "why are you staying with them then? so many banks with much sorter lines would be happy to accept you. i am in a bank wo hardly has any lines. i am only here to settle something".she was quiet for a moment and then ansswered me:"they are like this. there is always a line". why am i telling this story? well first of all i like stories (homer simpson said that but ifeel i can borrow from him since we're both bold. and yellow).second to show that people like to complain and not change anything. obviously there is a ot of shit in the world and in israel in particular, but what are you gonna do? how many people aill change thier vote because of corruption? how many will rally?and when will people stop clicking their tongue when they tak of today's youth?
that is one of the things that piss me the most. that line -"today's youth".we were all today's youth. our parents did not know how to deal with us the same way we do not know how to deal with the youth and the same way that the youth will not know how to act toward his youth. i mean we had a skinny singer saying that we are all fucked( for anyone who doesn't know Aviv Gefen think of billy idol with more make up, without the christian refrences but with more suicide notes.yes, israeli music is a bit behind, so what? at least we don't have shania twain here.) and we played xonix (that little square who close the screen fighting against some vicious circles) and computer strip poker for hours. today they have hip hop, icq and fashion clothing. the next generation might listen to one sound trscks with the occasional fuck word mentioned play suck the huge peanut and wear ties nad underwear to school. or maybe they'll fuck their parents by listening to country music and play stickball(not likely but interesting). the point is that the generations are always deteriariating in the eyes of grown ups. the americanization will not stop. so the question is just how to deal with it. by hatng the youth we just givethem an incentive to hateus. but many girls don't want to have sex at 14 (the boys obviously do. so did i) and any kids in general don't want to smoke crack. they get drunk as we did or smoke pot since it's there. so there has to be some punishment for those that throw a blackboard on ateacher's head, that's true. but let them know you know thst psrents suck, zits are horrible and studying geography and then bible and then history and math for six hours a day is a bitch. they will be thankful. hey maybe they even won't still your hubcaps.

almost midnight

this is basically why internet was invented. porn. in fact pretty much every invention in the last decade or even more eventually found it's true course- porn. from cellular phones to vcr players. i'm pretty sure Edison was playing with himself at seven pm, then it got dark and he thought : "man i hate masturbating to candle light!"
so here i am and so are so many other people trying to find the classiest porn out there. we've had dirty porn before. we're not fourteen. no, we want something with sound and that would appear real. since in phone sex the woman on the other side is probably dealing with her nail fungi while she gives out sounds of extreme pleasure ( which i am sure of. they go: "mmm. yeah. mmm." then you say something like : "can you stick a pumpernickle bread up my assphinter?" -"mmmm. yeah." - "hello? did you hear me?" - "yeah. mmmm." - "pumpenickle bread up my ass, ok?" nothing. just clipping away her fungi). so we turn to real women. internet forums and chat rooms. hoping that that mysterious woman on the line is not a 57 year old fat man named Bubba.
but it's not strictly porn. actually it's much less or much more. we search for some sort of retrubiotion,some sort of love. we want our comments to be read, laughed and respected. we write because at midnight when you're alone in your house you want someone to give you a clapping smilie. to show you they care.
or maybe it's just me. maybe everyone else are as secure as Hugh Grant is on kiss the bucktoothed englishman day. maybe people write jokes like : "you want pepperoni on your pizza? well i have some sexy salami!" cause they just want to make conversation.
and perhaps i shouldn't write blogs lonely at midnight.perhaps i'm just jealous because being a vegeterian i can only say : "hey i have some soy and tofu for you right here". and that's just not the same.

is this just masturbation?

why in god's good name (which is hubert, i checked) would anybody wish to write a blog? i mean, i ahve never written ajournal as kid, and even when i was travelling my journal consisted of " december 3rd- jim. big pie. stoned". that way i knew what i'm talking about and had the memories. but that wouldn't be much of ablog. well, except perha[s for english lit majors: "wow, man. did you see how he used the big to describe the pie? and stoned. wow. in Israel today stone is such a complex word"..so why do i write. well, considering this is only my second blog, this is not really a legitimate question, but so is asking for an oriental pattern buttoned shirt at a designer shirt store yet many men do it. so i examine my life. and i think it's not for the fame. for fame you have to pay. in sweat. and me? i'm pretty comfortable. no sweat nor nothing. perhaps a bit hungry but that woukd soon be resolved by a raid to the Milky (Israeli tapeyoka) fileed fridge. and i'm preety sure not many people are stopped on the street "hey, you're the guy from the blog JACK'S CRAZY JOURNEY IN FINLAND! please sign my boobs". no i think blogs are either cheap therapy or a deesire to get a message out. and for me it's both. i want people to gather around and shout. to say that ther's crap going on and we're not gonna take it. hey' if this was a south american country we'd all be grabbing guns and fighting for a just society. where the police care for the citizens. where aeducation is not seen as a burden on the govrement and where enviroment is not that bummer topic that small parties get to occupy and is equivalent to getting an executive producer title. there is other shit going on than just national security. and since we are civil people we don't tankjack a tank and bomb the Knesset. but at least we write. and at least i am pissed! and if we have any power, we should all be! and this is where we scream it. at least at first. later on we need to scream over podiums and stages. that is the only way to get us to sign boobs. and perhaps social welfare.