another sad and ugly as shit day in Serbia

I may be the least important [/ the least valuable] of the most famous people on this planet. those who gave me fame also prepared the hell for me. however, if you do not have money, the fame is not worth anything. just think how dee snider felt when he was flipping burgers for a few bucks every day and even then he was way off better than I ever was. and then what happened?

I came out to take a walk with my English bullterrier, and on my street I saw an old neighbor who achieved a stellar success worldwide and I hollered out to him from three yards away two times but he did not bother to say hi. I started thinking; what would I do in his shoes if I was filthy rich. I am famous already but obviously being famous or infamous without money does not mean shit these days. it only guarantees problems every day.

you can see it in Serbia where many miserable people show off brutal prime instincts, no respect and no manners. if you are not rich it means you cannot strike back and they think they can do anything to you, and they – these Serbian motherfuckers – keep on doing it. when you are dealing with cowards that take advantage of your situation your name is mud.

I then walked up to vojvode stepe boulevard with these thoughts in my mind and stopped by the fresh fruits and vegetables store to return a rotten pineapple. I did not come inside but the store clerk was kind enough to take care of that situation for me. and then I felt sorry for my English bullterrier cos there are Serbs that will die as bastards and they will never come to their senses. as a streetcar stop is three yards away on account of previous blog posts herewith streetcar driver was burning metal probably by activating brakes and charging the vehicle full throttle under brakes. everything smelled of burning smell. this streetcar went away with smoke coming out of its wheels. if you have read my blog previously you should realize this was done on purpose once again, too  many times to mention - cos asbestos dust comes off in this smoke cloud as well. serbs enjoy when their victim suffers, it is called "Serbian business." the pity was there was nothing I could do about it, nothing that i could do to protect my English bull-terrier except to charge away with my palm on my mouth. and nothing for the pour soul. so my readers – my potential friends - let’s make a deal: I’ll have you in my prayers if you release me from this Serbian grip, if you release me from this Serbian slavery - I will pray for you and your family. just tell me that you did something for me, or at least that you have tried. if you need help please provide help in return, think of me and my helpless situation. do ut des! I wanna be the one that got away.