Leave them alone D:!

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, March 31, 2010


How f* dare anyone out there make fun of my videos after all they have been through.!
They lost their audio, they went through copyright filters. They sometimes didn’t even had two f* stars.
LEAVE THEM ALONE! You are lucky they even played for you!
No this is not another spoof of Chris Crocker XD

In my defense.., I also post vimeo stuff... XD
You know, they have feelings... They've survived all this youtube-apocalypse paranoia (when they say it's bankrupt, it’ll start to charge, tons of videos will go down, and even copyright infringement) and they’ve emerged from the infinite ocean that is youtube these days… Yes, they called my attention above the dancing squirrels and the drunken Mexican men.
I am that type of OCD person who wants everyone to see the videos she likes… :D
And since I am not a celebrity or have any media power, I post them here, where I can watch them back, and hopefully someone else will :D
(I remind you mr. mr. that the last comment we received was on a video post)

Long live the video posts!

Not necessarily a blog

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, March 30, 2010


Guys, I think we've been doing it the wrong way all along...

You see, normal blogs have posts where the author talks about his experiences, and the clever ones get to relate it it something newsworthy, giving an enriching experience for the reader who can both, be informed and relate with the anecdotes of the blogger. There are also the ones that only cover news on specific subjects with their very own spicy twist, like a column that would never be published in a formal publication.

So what the hell have we been doing?

As far as I've read we've never covered news, like pafff, we make more posts about either dead or forgotten people than we do of ourselves. And speaking about ourselves, we have never given any details about our lives, we've actually lied a couple of times (shocker, I'm not a teacher). So why do we keep doing it? For you lovely readers? I doubt so, we only have three followers and I doubt even they read this.

Now this is where you would expect some change of light in the post, here I would explain philosophically why we are indeed a blog even if we don't cover news, interesting shiny stuff and our literature is crap. But I'm not going to really, because well, when you are this famous you don't have to explain yourself to anyone. You simply say:

I have over 700 posts bitches!

That has to be more than any "indie" working blog. Sure quantity is not quality, but we're effing kicking ass making daily posts. (even if at times they're YouTube videos ¬.¬)

So. Welcome to the largest no-really-bloggy-blog without readers you'll ever find (crossing fingers you don't search)

Déjà vu

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, March 29, 2010


This post comes to you by mr i'm the penguin...
Since you didn't post it... I decided to do it. Because it's too funny not to share.

Orphan story

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, March 28, 2010


Here's a midnight gift:

A story for anyone who likes it to take it.

In the future (no science fiction, just realistic modern world of 2029) There is this new service where you can have a long distance relationship, and for the sex you hire people who come in special suits to appear like you long distance partner. Both of you at the same time have sex with this suited person, there is instant connection of sounds and such, so you actually feel like it is the other person. This is totally professional and the suited people are never seen out of the mask.

This hits the roof and is used by people who live in different places, but also by people who work all the time. Now relationships change forever.

Plot comes when in one case a woman falls in love with one of these suited men who come and have sex for pay. Then there is a unraveling about what love truly is and the importance of touch.

Introduce a dilemma of emotional and "flesh" needs. Also portray the decadence of the society.

Can give each character a wide range of personalities.

Preferably the end will have a expected turn of events but for reasons unexpected.

The end.

[I know nobody will adopt this idea, but neither will I, these orpahn stories, what a sad story]

Wheezy wheezy

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, March 27, 2010


Im no Buck Factor (he's good xD) or anything like that...
(considering our 3 blog subscribers [i love you] vs. >700k Mr. Buck's)
but even so, subscriber or casual blog reader, I can't help recomending this vlogger, which is right now, by far my favorite vlogger.
for all beardlovers: THE Wheezywaiter :D fine welcome home

Dun Durududndun

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, March 26, 2010


This post makes no sense :)

(check out the SixtyOne )

We write music in special sheets so you can understand this... which for you has no rhythm but makes a lot of sense to me. See? Another obvious fact you probably knew already ;).

*Right now dear stranger I have rather nothing to say and no drawings left to fill this space, so instead I'll tell you about this idea I had concerning the Kite.

Dear Mrs. Kite

Hogwarts is freaking over, now what?Now Jimmy, now we live!Whatever... Where I'm going is that... this is one of those places where the roads divide and lives change. Change is unavoidable, panta rheii. Shodop! Anyway, This means we can't slack off anymore. And no darling, I don't mean with work, I mean with this freaking thing we call blog. Now more than ever it has to mean something, because after all it's kind of the last daily connection, no more owls D: .

Anyway, yes I just used this as a filler skipping the one day i've decided to feel with some other stuff I'll make up another day.

*I seriously believe no one besides us know what we're talking like ever... Maybe that's why we don't ever get any readers or comments. D:

*Hey! Dear stranger, yes you, the one who reads the "occasional" short story and sees our links just because you're the nicest person ever :)! You! Leave a comment, tell us something, ANYTHING. We'll love you forever and ever <3!

*If drunk texting/calling is dangerous how is drunk blogging? (BTW I'm totally sober, just leaving that out there)


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Thursday, March 25, 2010


Turns out Mrs. Kite thinks it's a good idea to sell things online, so she made this design...
Do you think this t-shirt would sell online?

Food for the soul:

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, March 24, 2010


"I am a feather for each wind that blows" W.S

"There are far more ways of not being that being." J.W

"And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep." K.V

"Damn it" he sighed. "How will I ever get out of this labyrinth" J.G

"You can't see the argon because, like the glass, it's transparent." --

It's all about the 18.

we're old

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, March 23, 2010


you'll be/are old now...

other benefits of time travelling xD

Drag on

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Monday, March 22, 2010


Mythic creatures staring with thousand year eyes
and millenarian forgotten cries

My strategy

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, March 21, 2010


I can't really say it has worked so far...
[via: comically vintage ]


Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, March 20, 2010


I hereby state that friendships are indeed based on money.


Blog posts

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, March 19, 2010


I think we should be proud...
We've already reached the 365 blog posts
and we're about to reach the 730 blog posts
(don't you dare to trash my graph)

yay for going xkcd style.. xD


Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, March 18, 2010


Quizá solo somos las historias que se dicen, las versiones que cambian.
No somos mas que los secretos al aire que dejamos escapar.

Maybe we are only the stories told, the changing versions.
We are not other than the aired secrets we let escape.

It is poetry... or so they say.


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, March 17, 2010


anger anger
anger bargaining
depression depression
acceptance acceptance
denial denial denial denial
denial isolation isolation isolation
anger anger anger anger anger anger
anger anger anger anger anger anger
anger anger anger anger anger anger
anger anger anger anger anger anger
denial isolation isolation isolation
denial denial denial denial
acceptance acceptance
depression depression
anger bargaining
anger anger

mean/median/mode = anger
being in total denial is unlikely

Ten tacles

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, March 16, 2010


Mythic creatures staring with thousand year eyes
and millenarian forgotten cries


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Monday, March 15, 2010


They told me the first step was acceptance.
1. I <3 vimeo (very much) I don't care what the second step is... but I want to think it's sharing... (if you somehow follow this blog, you'll realize it's also step zero... xD)

Man and solitude

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, March 14, 2010


In a crooked hotel in the middle of downtown there is an empty room where only moths, grey and dusty curtains ever exist, everything else only makes an apologetic appearance and leaves. Today solitude will make an entrance, and the roaring whispers of desperation will become quiet. Like always, solitude will be there only for a few weeks, but will leave the room with her stench, which in case you didn't know is a natural repellent of Jazmin and good taste.

Solitude doesn't know this yet, but when she arrives to the dinner next to the Downtown hotel ,she will ask for a coffee free of intentions or sugar, but will learn that the only one coffee container in the whole dinner will be in another person's table. On normal conditions this would have only made her be annoyed, but in this case it made her destroy a man; but that's getting too ahead. Solitude will ask for the coffee, but some guy will be using it and the waitress will take it back and forth from table to table. Solitude will no longer be drinking the coffee, but like she is: selfish and impulsive she will only ask for it for the heck of it. The man eating a honey-burger will laugh at this and take the coffee as an excuse to pass a move onto solitude. She will be pleased.

This man, Man, will move to her table and make a humorous remark about her drink and foreigners in that town, naturally solitude won't laugh, instead she will get an ice cube out of her bag and put it in the table, then she will spray some lily scent in her hands and lips. Man will like everything about solitude, because subconsciously it will remind him of her now dead absent mother. So solitude will eventually give into the small talk, which will lead them into knowing how much they have in common, like their dislike for girls named Madagascar and their love and hate relationship with Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Ten she will see an open window and let her scarf become a whisper and fly out; this will mean she'll let him in.

The relationship will kick off with chalky sex and tea-time conversation, Man will notice her daddy issues (which she hasn't) and he will be aware of her commitment troubles, and so he will take it slowly even if Man will quietly begin to love her, every inch of her massless skin and body. Solitude will let herself go and not be her usual, she will let him tag along in her trips around the world, she will break some rules of her job, but she won't care, she'll be having a blast. As for feelings go solitude will remain herself until her last breath.

Man will write love, build dreams and sing happiness because he will for once feel complete. Solitude will only be having fun. One starred day Solitude will come out of the shower and Man will be in the room waiting for her with a envelope of promises and a box of doom, which will contain a ring.

He will propose, she'll spray lily scent and run to his arms, she will then whisper something to his ear then grab her scarf and Solitude will make a departure.

Now Man will stand there for a while thinking of the words the now vanished concept had said, no doctor would ever agree with his version of the facts, but he will swear from that moment on that he had heard his heart breaking into a million pieces. The pieces will cut into his muscles, his organs and very deep into his soul, it will hurt, badly. Man will lose his name and his promises, along with his good taste and love for jazmin, but now he would never again be lonely.

Squid Trek

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Saturday, March 13, 2010


How awesome is this?
What were the odds off this (8-D) : Indie Squid Kid (c'mon, it's the internet, this had to exist)


Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, March 12, 2010


Come with me to those trips that come unexpectedly, those which either you take right that moment or you might never have the chance to go back: memory lane.

This specific childhood memory comes from a time where I was 7 or 8, and I used to walk around my mother's workplace. My mom worked in a big big place were I walked around a lot, it had huge gardens and for a mystical 7 year old it was pretty magical. But this story is not about the imagination, but perception. And so in some of my walks I used to visit a tiny little library where forgotten and unimportant books were kept, there was the workplace of Danny, a 20 years old student-librarian, who for me was pretty much a grown-up. I remember that with Danny and I used to speak about all sorts of things, I can't recall what kind of things, but stupid things 7 year olds say. He was patient and listened to me like it was a serious thing, I felt like a big boy already, having ideas worth hearing.

(small note: that's something adults often don't notice, they think children just speak to appear silly or cute, but they don't realize what they (we) say they (we) mean. It's not just some joke you get to ignore)

Anyway, this guy Danny was the boyfriend of one of my mother's co-workers and close friend. And one day my mom told me very casually the news while in the workplace:

"Mary broke up with Danny"

That made me sad, I didn't know anything about heart matters but I knew that meant I wouldn't get to see him now that the relation was broken, plus it saddened me that both of them would feel bad because of that.

"Well she can do so much better, he's... well... she can find someone more attractive" said another co-worker
"I know, he was nice but he wasn't pretty, not unpleasant but... being honest he was ugly" said my mom

And then I was surprised, could Danny the man who listened to me and worked a t a tiny library be ugly? How can people like that be ugly?

"Was he ugly" I naively asked

The co-worker and my mother smirked and reassured that while Danny was a nice person, he was physically unappealing in many ways. That moment took me by surprise, according to bed time stories and Disney nobody who was nice was ugly. I couldn't really see what was ugly about him, he was a nice person.

And as time passed I noticed that kept happening, I didn't realize when people were ugly, to my eyes they were just boring, nice, loud, stupid or so or so. I remember another example when I was waiting for the dentist back when I was 8, and the receptionist was in the waiting room and she started asking me if I was scared. I had never had bad experiences with dentists, but TV and movies said they were very scary people, so I went with the flow and said I was indeed scared. And so she smiled and said it would be fine. It was not even a very nice smile, and I guess that was part of her job, but nevertheless it was a nice gesture.

And there I was sitting in the chair waiting when the thought that she was a pretty person crossed my mind twice. She was not. Maybe she was nice, but just like Danny, she was not aesthetically appealing. As a matter of a fact she was kind of... well... ugly.

I remember that moment I realized that maybe noticing ugly people was an age thing, maybe being a young boy I was I couldn't notice people's looks as much, and instead I guided myself on pure personality content, silly me.

And this memory only brings to mind, was it me or is it an age thing? Should we grow and start seeing the flaws and imperfections? Wouldn't it be a better world if personality mattered more than face symmetry and low fat bodies? Maybe, maybe it was just that I made stories in my head, still do and always will.

Pluto vs. Neptune

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, March 11, 2010


This is one of the new bands in my iTunes.. Driftless Pony Club...
I love them! I love it when the coffee is done!!!

Pieces of past II

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, March 10, 2010


Nostalgia production

Old toys
Both have something similar, both come from different times. And regardless of how appealing any of them is, both belong to the past, to that part of the past you can never get back: time.


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, March 09, 2010


I posted about Plushenko before... but this particular performance was just brilliant....
Although a while has passed since he danced this, I thought I'd give it some time so I wouldn't look like an angry fan xD
(it's the best video I could find online.. ¬¬, bear with the low quality)

Random dialogue

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Monday, March 08, 2010


As we fixed the pillows to sleep and the flight attendant brought the blankets I was still looking trough the window really anxious

"Don't worry, you're in for one of those life great adventures" said uncle Jack

There were two lanes for this situations: expectations or pessimism. One took me to a lakeside with lots of people my age enjoying the summer bliss, all having fun and having one of those dynamics where I teased this guy called Brook, and then we caught up in a friendly argument where everybody started commenting nonsense and then we laughed and secretly swore eternal friendship. The other, and most likely features me in a library pretending to read a rather terrible book about mountain climbing while the only girl who says "hi" to me in the entire school passes by and avoids me, there there is no Brook, only lame books. This one is not an expectation.


"You'll make friends alright" said uncle Jack "And when you are there send my regards to the Cumbria girls, there is one your age, but I'm not sure of her name..."

"Sure... but won't there be like a thousand people there?"

"Ha! If there is one Cumbria girl left in that school, believe me you'll meet her"

A Day in the Life

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, March 07, 2010


I hadn't heard this song in a while, and I forgot how beautiful it is...

I'd love to turn you on

Piece of past

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, March 06, 2010


Today, Nostalgia productions bring you something that has such a high concentration of forgotten-past particles that it'd be dangerous not to dilute it into some present.

So many things about this...
For further understanding you should know this was done during ROM[y]'s class

The dream traveler

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Friday, March 05, 2010


[via: behance]

Boxes vs Tubes

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, March 04, 2010


More than to any other group, massive media is the toughest on teenagers. Think about it, it is this people who set the standards of what is cool, what is dull, what people should wear, listen, think, buy and such and such. And it is not only the merchandising, but also setting the beauty and normal standards, just look at the shows on TV, featuring teenagers who every week have fabulous adventures with super dramatic lives, and every single one of them looks like from the cover of a magazine. My main problem with these so called teenagers is that they're all freaking 20-somethings with mature bodies who have nothing to do with their day other than to stay fit and read their lines.

These are not real concepts on TV
Not real people
Nothing real teens can actually compare their lives with.
(and please don't even mention the super scripted MTV reality shows)

So what is people left with?
With a monopolized business of media where you can't really choose what to watch...

Well that'd be true. Two or five years ago.

Now I bring you a new proposal: YouTube.

As it happens, if you've stayed on the site long enough to watch beyond the cats in skateboards you know about the community. Now, I don't mean to sound like a fangirl and say these people are the best entertainers EVAR! Some are actually crappy, some are really good. But the point I'm trying to make is not really about their quality, but about their credibility.

They are real people, with real issues who have spare time to make a video or two. Sure, you could argue some get payed to do so, and have no difference with the TV stars, but I beg to differ. Because they don't just broadcast, they read trough the fan mail, look at the comments and sometimes actually write back. They are there, tangible people who you can talk to like anybody else.

Most of them don't use make up, or beneficial takes to cover imperfections, they show you their true self with flaws, with abnormalities, with all that which constitutes them. They are what you see, and chances are that they're not so different from you, or someone close. It's not only the looks but how they talk, what they talk about, they are things you probably talk with your friends. They're not this alternate universe at which you have to aim, they're the exposition that you can live comfortably in your own world.

And that, I think is more valuable than any super-bad scripted Californian/NYer conception of what the youth should look like.



Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, March 03, 2010


I'm not really into sports, but this sort of mass behaviour is just cool xD
via vlogbrothers

Me, a light bulb

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in , , | Posted on Tuesday, March 02, 2010


One of my oldest clear memories is from when I was in kindergarten. I was five years old and I can remember I already had some crazy day dreams. I would often fantasize that when the teacher turned her back the whole class would stand from the little chairs, climb to the big table and start a heavy rock concert, then when the teacher turned back at us in surprise we would already be sited again in our little colored chairs. The teacher never turned away that long, plus I didn't even know what exactly was rock back then. But the memory I come to share has little to do with rock, and more about light bulbs.

This specific memory starts with five year-old me sitting in a little colored chair among my five-year-old peers. That morning our teacher had brought us a new device she would use to denote our efforts and achievements throughout the class. It was a blue cardboard with all of our names and next to it little Velcro squares to attach the merit of being a good five-year-old, a paper star. But since out names were "too long to fit in the spaces" the teacher had instead put stickers of objects that, she said, "represented our person".

I am aware that it would be difficult to believe that a five year-old would be excited about knowing what he represented, but you have to bear with me, I am the penguin after all. So she started showing us the stickers and linking them with our personalities. Jackie was a pony, because she was always full of energy and was pretty. Oscar was a teddy bear because he was adorable. Christian was a race car because he never stopped. And as she explained these poorly made metaphors of five-year-olds and their personalities I recall judging how well made they were, and to be honest I believed they were not accurate. But I was always told older people were smarter, so I convinced myself that she saw things in these people that I couldn't.

So, I was looking up for what was my symbol, I wanted to know what did the teacher think about me. Based on her experience, on knowing me for a long time, hearing my questions and doubts. I wanted to know what those eyes that saw things I didn't thought about my person. I was excited to find something new about me, to know what people thought about me. And so she finally stopped at a light bulb and said

"Well, this light bulb represents I'm the penguin... because..."

Then there was a pause. I was waiting, maybe that next adjective would change and mark me forever. But it didn't. The pause was not hype, not even forgetfulness, she had no idea why I was a light bulb. And I could see it in her eyes, adults don't seem to know this, but when they lie to five-year-olds there is this look in their eyes that is so obvious. They underestimate them (us). At that moment I was disappointed, but I also was five-years-old, so excitement over came the situation and I asked

"Is it because I'm always having ideas?"

I had to explain that in cartoons people are drawn to have a light bulb over their head when they had an idea, and so I was a light bulb because I was creative. Then the teacher understood and in relief she said "Yes, yes, it's because you always have ideas. See? you just had one." But that didn't fix it, it didn't took me longer than 10 minutes to figure out she had never known why I was a light bulb before, she had just assigned a random symbol I was supposed to accept. But why me? Why had she forgotten me and not Jackie the pony or Oscar the teddy bear? Was I unimportant and forgettable?

Or was it simply that she knew so little about five-year-old me that she couldn't think of anything and so she just used the last sticker to not leave me behind? I suppose that kindergarten teacher is not really guilty for not figuring out the personality of every kid. But that marked me, not even the woman which whom I spent all my mornings knew anything of who I was or what I thought at the age of five. In a way that started it, that started the belief that nobody would ever truly know who I was.

The idea that people would always think I was someone I was not had started to only be confirmed time after time later in life. Because it is not only about the light bulbs, it is about the social tags, it is about the friends you hang out with. At the end people have no idea who the hell are you, and just make characters with what you give them.

And yes, I was five-years-old.

from a book

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, March 01, 2010


This is full of lolz
via love all this