B92 Blog

When I was a young boy my great grandfather sat me down to tell me about the old ways. His cataract-filled eyes gazed up into the yonder and filled with tears as he told me about the time when we were the People who wandered the land.

‘Oh my child, how much we’ve lost since we divided ourselves from the earth: those long long days up at six a.m. to milk the goat, warming your hands on its skinny teat, the sweet fresh milk that goes off after half a hour and is just a bit too strong to make a tasty bowl of porridge; working in the fields all day long, breaking your back in the pouring rain scraping a hoe through the clay to drag up a couple of beetroot that took you half a year to grow.

Oh yes, but the galloping across the prairies, chasing the mighty buffalo, failing to catch one again but watching your brother trampled to death beneath the stampeding hooves, the children starving in the wi

Top 5 break-up lines

• lets end this shitty relationship, for both our sakes.
• I'm sorry, but you haven't been giving me pleasure for some time now.
• we should both stop pretending. Oh really? Well I've been pretending the whole time, but recently the strain has become too much.
• I've tried so hard to understand you but I just can't. With Alex it's all so different, so easy.
• I find you disgusting to lie beside.

Every evening you promise yourself that the next morning you will do some exercise and get something done.


Pekaratura : D

• The maximum distance between two pekaras in Belgrade is 51.8m
• The average pekara offers between 19 and 26 different products; of these, 1 to 3 are very good, and 4 to 6 are quite

A.

In the centre of Belgrade zoo is an amazing bronze statue. A muscular man straddles a lion, kneeling on its back, bending its spine and forcing its mouth open with both hands. It's a fountain: out of the lion's mouth pours a jet of water. The message is nice and clear: get the fuck down you miserable majestic magnificent animal and open your mouth for me. It's a good emblem for the zoo.

The zoo is the bottom tier of a smelly pyramid of disrespect. It starts at the top…

1. The government doesn't respect the people. It charges high taxes for shit service. It doesn't feel the need to be accountable. Civil servants work until 2pm.

An indicator of this disrespect for the people is the fact they handed over a large share of the economy to chums. Of course the stuff they gave away wasn't actually theirs to give. We all know that.


The buffa

As predicted by Jaap Steinbrikker, visiting reader of Balkan Futurenomics at the University of Groningen, The Netherlands.

In the year 2042 Serbia achieves membership of the “Global Community”, and its people are finally allowed to jump and frolic freely in the grassy meadows of life . The following things happen.

IN THE YEAR 2042:

1. In Hollywood all film stars are contractually required to have real sex on screen. Demi Moore is the first A-list star to do this as part of a special interest “senior citizen” sex comedy. To generate publicity she appears with ex-husband Bruce Willis, who is revived from the dead specifically for the role.

2. After the lesbian revolution of 2008 Serbs have died out due to lack of breeding and the population is now entirely gypsy. The film industry flourishes.

3. Belgrade finally replaces its ancient and historic trolleybuses with an ultramo

It will happen over the next five years, and it will start with professional women from their mid 20s to their late 30s and gradually filter downwards. The conditions are absolutely right. Look around you at any party. On one side you find animated women, diversely dressed, marking their personalities with their appearance. The hair – some bright red and short, some long and natural, some curled, some ironed, some bobbed, some coiffed; the clothing – their bodies are enlivened with colour, or shrouded in black, accessorized by gold, sequins or bright plastic.

And on the other side, bonjour to the men! They lean against walls or stand mutely next to the booze, hair universally cropped short, bodies clad in bland t-shirts, legs bathed in jeans, jeans, jeans or jeans, and jeans universally faded and universally straight.

The men’s t-shirts distinguish them only as acolytes of Nike or Puma, and this evening’s Puma acolytes are as likely to turn up as Nike fans at the next occasion; it’s as interest