Blanka Quotes

Man älskar dem med vilka man får fritt utrymme för de delar hos sig själv som man känner sig hemma och bekväm med, oavsett om delarna är ruttna eller friska, skavda eller skinande blanka.

- If something happens to you, I'll kill ... - Who this time? I interrupted him irritably. - Myself ... Because my life doesn't make sense without you.

I once read the most widely understood word in the whole world is ‘OK’, followed by ‘Coke’, as in cola. I think they should do the survey again, this time checking for ‘Game Over’. Game Over is my favorite thing about playing video games. Actually, I should qualify that. It’s the split second before Game Over that’s my favorite thing. Streetfighter II - an oldie but goldie - with Leo controlling Ryu. Ryu’s his best character because he’s a good all-rounder - great defensive moves, pretty quick, and once he’s on an offensive roll, he’s unstoppable. Theo’s controlling Blanka. Blanka’s faster than Ryu, but he’s really only good on attack. The way to win with Blanka is to get in the other player’s face and just never let up. Flying kick, leg-sweep, spin attack, head-bite. Daze them into submission. Both players are down to the end of their energy bars. One more hit and they’re down, so they’re both being cagey. They’re hanging back at opposite ends of the screen, waiting for the other guy to make the first move. Leo takes the initiative. He sends off a fireball to force Theo into blocking, then jumps in with a flying kick to knock Blanka’s green head off. But as he’s moving through the air he hears a soft tapping. Theo’s tapping the punch button on his control pad. He’s charging up an electricity defense so when Ryu’s foot makes contact with Blanka’s head it’s going to be Ryu who gets KO’d with 10,000 volts charging through his system. This is the split second before Game Over. Leo’s heard the noise. He knows he’s fucked. He has time to blurt ‘I’m toast’ before Ryu is lit up and thrown backwards across the screen, flashing like a Christmas tree, a charred skeleton. Toast. The split second is the moment you comprehend you’re just about to die. Different people react to it in different ways. Some swear and rage. Some sigh or gasp. Some scream. I’ve heard a lot of screams over the twelve years I’ve been addicted to video games. I’m sure that this moment provides a rare insight into the way people react just before they really do die. The game taps into something pure and beyond affectations. As Leo hears the tapping he blurts, ‘I’m toast.’ He says it quickly, with resignation and understanding. If he were driving down the M1 and saw a car spinning into his path I think he’d in react the same way. Personally, I’m a rager. I fling my joypad across the floor, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back, a torrent of abuse pouring from my lips. A couple of years ago I had a game called Alien 3. It had a great feature. When you ran out of lives you’d get a photo-realistic picture of the Alien with saliva dripping from its jaws, and a digitized voice would bleat, ‘Game over, man!’ I really used to love that.

- Honey, I will give you a golden advice thanks to which, I think, my marriage with your father lasts for almost thirty-five years. I leaned toward her. - You must be selfish. Oh, it's going fat, I said soundlessly. - If you put your luck first, you'll do everything to it lasted. So you will also take care of the relationship, but one that will not destroy you. Remember, a woman who is exclusively for a man will always be unhappy, will feel oppressed and, as a result, will be whining. And men don't like whining women.

- I'll throw the world at your feet, girl. He began to stroke my bare shoulder with his hand, following the movement of his fingers. - I'll show you places you never dreamed of. He leaned down and kissed the piece of skin he was stroking. "I want you to see the sunrise in Burma when we fly a balloon." His lips rolled down my neck. - Let you get drunk at night in Tokyo, watching the colorful lights of the city. I closed my eyes as Nacho's lips stroked my ear. - You'll love me on a board off the coast of Australia. I will show you the whole world.

we ordered a bottle of champagne. There was nothing drunk, but the fact that there is no opportunity also created it.

For us," Olo said, holding a glass. - For shopping, trips, for life, for what we have and what awaits us.

I stood staring at him, and after a moment I realized that I was almost sober. I took a deep breath, and inside me was a feeling I didn't know. No I understood why, but I felt good. I was easy-going, content, even happy. It was a feeling only slightly different than a state of strong love. Is that how cocaine worked? - I thought. Then it ceased to be a mystery to me why Black liked her so much.

It didn't matter to me that I didn't have even one pair of panties with me. Always I could walk without. But the fact that I didn't have a single pair of shoes was already a drama.

(like Blanka, a green-skinned beast-like Brazilian man who had been raised in the jungle),

Die Nacht nach diesem Gespräch konnte ich nicht schlafen. Als Blanka nach Hause kam, schloß ich die Augen und rührte mich nicht. Aber ich mußte ununterbrochen an Irma und Margareta denken.

Every spell you do, you must believe with your heart. If you don’t, it won’t work.

If it makes you feel better, I thought my scars were like the wild oceans. Beautiful and scary at the same time.

Why do you want to punish yourself so badly? Everybody makes mistakes, but if your intentions were pure, why do you see yourself as such evil?

People try to convince themselves they aren’t afraid to die. Masking their fear in hopes of deceiving Death. If they aren’t afraid of it, maybe it wouldn’t come for them. I didn’t think Death liked to chase those who are afraid. I’d also never heard people say they aren’t afraid to live, so why does Life leave us?

The simple human act of hatred ruined the magical bond I’d expected to survive a lifetime. I’d anticipated more from witches, but in the end, we were the same.

Taking another being's life was never something I'd imagined doing. Now all I could image was taking their souls to hell, even if it would make my own burn there too.

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I dag jag har filosoferat fram en teori om svennarna och svartskallarna på skolan: Man kan säga det finns tre sorters svennar. Först det är lyxsvennarna som spelar maffia fast på svennevis. Dom har märken som är dyra fast ändå dom har små loggor och syns mindre än dyra blatte­märken. (Svartskallar spelar rika mera ärliga.) Lyxsvennarna har Östrakläder med äkta Lacoste och aldrig estniska Dieseljeans. Som exempel man kan ta Philip som ofta softar till skolan med vit polo eller Anna och Jessica som har blanka tjejstövlar och aldrig smutsiga hår. Också Lena och Peder hör hit för aldrig dom skulle våga ha kläder som man lägger märke. Ändå lyxsvennarna är ganska få för nästan alla i skolan hör till lodisgänget som går klädda i tattartrasor med sönd­ riga skinnjackor och jeansen maxat håliga. Ofta dom har total oreda i håren och ibland tjejerna har långa röda sammetskjolar och rutade strumpor. Om man vill bli en av dom man måste säga ryssar gör bästa poesin och lyssna på Bob Hund istället för Snoop Doggy Dogg. Plus man måste vara redo att som David, Stefan och Karro säga med stolthet man har köpt kläderna på UFF! Såklart ingen blatte vill vara med förutom Mårten (som har föräldrar från Polen). Också Nicole hör hit fast man ser lodisarna tittar snett när hon softar till skolan med gummistövlar och orange overall (också lodisgäng har gränser). Samtidigt jag börjar misstänka lodisgänget också spelar falska för alltid dom har massa fikaflous och ingen av deras föräldrar sitter i spärr eller jobbar städare. Tredje svennesorten är dansk­lassarna fast egentligen man ser dom inte ofta på skolan för jämt dom hänger uppe i balettsalen och tränar tänjning. Danstjejerna är pyttesmala och har knutfrisyr och killarna är kanske fyra–fem stycken per klass och ger alltid leenden på skolfotot som riktiga bögar. Alla dansk­klassare går med tårna utåt och ryggen rak som värsta bräda. Blattarna på skolan är inte så många men kommer ändå i två versioner. Nummer ett är den vanliga blatten: knasaren, snikaren, snattaren, ligisten. Som exempel man kan ta Sebastian och Angelo. I Skäris bästa exemplet är Alonzo för det var han som lärde Juan hur vi skulle handla 50-örestuggummin på Gottoken efter ha lagt Snickers och Raiders i jackärmen. Det är tack vare han jag vet hur man hittar civilsnutar i folksamlingar och förstärker soft air guns till riktiga vapen. Blattesort nummer två är duktighetskillen som pluggar prov och använder finord och aldrig plankar tunnelbanan eller taggar. Som exempel vi har tvillingarna Faud och Fadi plus alla andra iranier som smörar lärare och vill bli tandläkare och ingenjörer. Dom tror dom får respekt men egentligen alla lärare skrattar åt dom för man fattar dom är vilsna.