Saturday, December 03, 2005

The trap

I had just lost a beer on a cute card trick, and I am in the process of getting up to go to the bar.

On my way up, I turn to the ladies sitting beside me, and:

“Hey ladies, I just lost a beer to this guy here because of a card trick. Why don’t you take my revenge and beat him on that trick?”


“Well, your choice…”

“Where are you from?”

“He’s half Canadian, half Turkish, I am half German half Turkish”


“Sprichst du Deutsch?”


“Do you speak German?”


“So, do you speak Canadian then?”




“You must know they speak English”

And there was a face….

Impossible memory problems...

The girl walks in with a foreign young man holding her hand... This boy, though he is Muslim, knowing the market, carries a huge cross on his neck… She is a nineteen year old blondie.


This girl walks up to the dancefloor, and her boyfriend of the night goes to greet his own buddies. She notices the guy standing beside her. She notices him, but is too shy to say “hello”. She keeps on looking. The guy notices this and starts looking at her when she is not watching him. He looks confused. His eyes roll to the left to the right, trying to find in his memory a vision of her.

He can’t.

She gives up, and goes to her boyfriend for the night.

He turns back to look at his buddies.

The two buddies by the bar are watching him, both are looking like these freaky pumpkins from Halloween…

He goes to them, and says..

“Have you seen the gorgeous blonde beside me? I know that I know her but I cannot remember…”

The two pumpkins, at the same time,

“Dude, you fucked her”

And this guy just recently had his first two digited sexual partner.


When you are walking on any road with flowers or some kind of earthly bank beside it, like forest, of street plants, wonder if it’s too hard to spit onto the side of the road where nobody passes, instead of spitting your lungs out onto the pavement… The extra effort is really not that much, but the pavements would look more like a civilized pavement, instead of some spit lakes…. And I do not think the plants on the side of the road do mind the spit that much as we humans do….

Monday, October 10, 2005

First this.... (part 1 of 2)

Meet this Turkish guy in a bar, and during the conversation, he goes:

“So you are married..”








“Did you come here from Antalya?”




“So how did you come here?”

“I came from Ankara”… did not tell him why I came, and saw the puzzled look in the face….

Some time later, a friend of mine and the same guy meet, and once more the guy goes:

“So you are married..”








“Did you come here from Antalya?”




“So how did you come here?”

“I came from Canada”… coincidentially he also did not say what he is doing here, and once again, I got to witness the puzzled look in his face….

Of course, 70 million Turks work on the beach and get married to foreign women…


Maybe not….

Then this... (part 2 of 2)

Met this Finnish girl in a wedding afterparty,

“Where are you from?”

“Turkey, Germany…”

“Ah… Turkey… When did you come here?”

“Five years ago”

Mentioning the gorgeous lady, who happens to be the reason why Finndistan has slowed down…,

“She brought you?”

Small small world....

Got to meet two newcomers to town that night....

With one of them:

“Hello, I am this-and-that”

“I am Finndistan”



“Finndistan this-that?”

“Huh…. How do you know me?”

“You were five classes above me, in high school…”

“That was ten years ago, when I graduated…”

“Yes, and then when I came to the university, you graduated from the same department…”

“Kidding?..... And now here?”

“Funny eh?”

“Yea, funny…”

Thursday, September 08, 2005

My apologies

I apologize deeply for nowadays not being updating the site as frequently as I should..

There are few reasons I could count, the summer, the holidays, and also a sick leave of two weeks, making it unable for me to enjoy the outsides.

But the main effect on the stories is coming from the changes in my private life, as my interactions with the "market" have faded to literally none, and the stories from there have become very rare.

I will start once again to update finndistan once a week, making use of close friend's (s)experiences, and the little stories I will happen to get myself.

Until the next update, I hope you will enjoy the stories below,



Two guys, one thought??

Its Friday.

Its nighttime, two guys are sitting on the comfy couch blabbering the night away...

Across them sits the girl one of them shagged a week ago, with a sweet friend beside her…

The one who shagged, looking at his catch of last week, goes:

“That would be a good threesome…”
“No man, maybe if she would have been very beautiful, then I could have joined.”
“….? …? …? Stupid motherfucker, I was not talking about you as the third in the threesome…”

Changing times, to the worst....

When I came five years ago, you were not allowed to enter nightclubs even with trendy sport shoes…

Then came the Puma revolution, and the retro style casual shoes were being taken in….

After the disaster of two summers ago, when the 80’s style was re-introduced to the fashion world, you got to see occasional jogging shoes, some even covered in mud…


I never thought I would see this in one of the top clubs in the city,

Jeans over white socks visible through black trekking sandals…

Not even Birkenstocks….

Two men, and deep philosophy

It’s Saturday nighttime, women have spent hours in front of the mirror just like some “men”…

And we have two souls, indulged in deep conversation:

Looking at the cute girl he shagged the night before;

“I know I sound like an animal, but I either want to sleep alone or with someone else. Not with her”“You sound like a single man, not an animal.”
The clock ticks…. Butts walk by;
Looking at the cute girl, not the one he shagged the night before;
“I want to fuck her ass”“I know, this is the fifth time you tell me”

Friday, August 19, 2005

The Relaxed Dutch

This picture was sent to me from a friend who was in the U2 concert in Amsterdam.
I cut the picture to keep privacy.

Want to congratulate the girl..

First of all, you need the courage to wear that shirt, people will not remember your face,

Second, you need the boobs.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

One observation from a German coffee house...

Am back from a one week trip from Germany.

While I was there, could not help but compare the life with Finland.

Among the thousand differences you see, let me show you the most obvious one, which, in my opinion, is a detail giving a huge insight into the generalization.

I think, the best way to show this is with real life pictures.

Apple-raisin-rum cake with whipped cream:

This was 1.90 euros, and have to admit, was a special treatment to a high tip given previously. The original size though, still is not much smaller.


This one I ate in a coffee house on the “Esplanadi” of a town called Konstanz, a place for the prominent Germans to go with their yachts, on the Bodensee. Price was 1.70, in a place owned by Italians – who are also known for their outrageous prices.

Cheesecakes, my favorites, have similar pricing…

What bothers me in these incidents is the fact that, in Finland, even in the common places, you get a cheesecake never for under 3 euros, and the size of these are embarrassing. Sadly I cannot pose a picture of those, since criticizing Finnish firms, even though the opinion may be right, does not have a good reception… This is understandable, what is not, is that, without criticism and competition, the citizens will receive the good old shitty service… Anyway, in the end, go to a cafeteria and get a cake for 3.50, and check the size… And don’t tell me, “When you pay more, you appreciate what you eat”…

In Finland, with the mini-cheesecake sold for over 3 euros, 4 euros in Helsinki, the owner profits, the workers get their pay plus the said 10% service fee, the landowner gets his rent, the baker gets paid, the government gets taxes…

In Germany, with the normal cheesecake sold for less than two euros, like in Finland, the owner profits, the workers get their pay plus the 10% service plus extra tips, the landowner gets his rent, the baker gets paid, the government gets taxes – also one of the highest in Europe…

And all these earnings are more in Germany than in Finland, where the price is double, size is half…

Half size, double price,

Somebody’s fucking somebody….

P.S.: To the silver lady: with these facts, how can you stop comparing? As you will yourself see in two days…

Interesting Art

This was taken on the Bodensee, in a town named Radolf-Zell...

I like the idea...

And this is German "Imagination"

A sign which originally said,

"Do not throw stones down the cliff...."

As it seems, somebody thought otherwise....


Thursday, July 28, 2005


In this beautiful cottage, on a beautiful weekend, with beautiful people..

I get to learn that Finish neighbors take care of eachother..

This old man, joins us six youngsters enjoying some bad and good karaoke...

If I am right, he is pissed drunk... We are not sober either...

He joins us to the sauna...

In the meantime, he states his curiosity for one of the guys, for his love to the other, and he also mentions he likes the German boy's body...

In the sauna, he tries to kill me by asking me to enjoy the finnish sauna, the old school way... When I run out, he decides I am a "perkele"...

After the sauna, I get ot hear the best description ever, when I was listening to the conversation happening beside me,

"Mutta minä olen bruttaali hetero"

Coming out of a sixty year old man:

"But I am brutally hetero"

Cute, sweet and fun..

That weekend was one of the days where I enjoyed finns most.

Brutally enjoyed


Friday, July 08, 2005

Early education..

One day walking home from sports, in Sorsapuisto, I smell a heavy scent of weed... Not unusual in the parks during the summer time...

Look around to see who is giving out that lovely sweet smell…

Then I find the source:

Two guys, one girl, smoking in the children’s playground, with their two little kids playing around…


Is…. sick…..

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Tampere city puts these flowers up in one night to make the country look like something other than green... And what happens is that a few teenies, under the influence of alcohol, possibly bought with OUR tax money, fuck up OUR taxmoney... The whole waterside was vandalized on a saturday night... Both sides of the rapids.

Later update : And I like these flowers, they add beauty to the park, and to the city, wherever they are planted. 07.07.2005

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Things that we let go....

She’s dancing all by herself…White skirt, white top, white high boots, open belly and a tanned skin…

All with a gorgeous body and a matching face.

She’s dancing, but not dancing on the dancefloor.. And I am flowing with the music just close to her, coincidentally…

Have few good friends with me, and it’s not only the guys who comment about that babe, the lady with us is also enjoying the view. I am enjoying it, too…

She comes to me,

“You want to fuck with me tonight?”

“Maybe”, I say, smiling at her eyes first, then, moving them up and down that body…

In the flow of the night, I stay with my company, and let her be…

Don’t know if she found someone or not, I just know by two o’clock, she was gone…

Do I regret that move?

I guess, not regretting it, in the contrary, making that move, is part of the evolution of a solitary male….

I do not mean to brag about it, this is just an incident where I managed to surprise myself…

Guilt of absence causing nightmares...

My brother was born in the year ’90…

I left to university to Ankara in ’95…

From there on, the next five years, I did not spend more than two months in a year with the kid.. He always looked up to me, and I always loved him, like a brother, like my own child…

Then in 2000, I left to Finland… Almost five years now…

The kid which I last spent everyday with when he was five, now is fifteen, struggling in adolescence, trying to find himself… And I am too fucking far away…

This all came up in one of my nightmares:

I am playing ball with my brother, who has grown up to be 17-18..., when a small girl of the age three comes and hugs him..

When I ask who this is, he tells me,

“She is your sister, but you apparently do not know…”

I turn to her, trying to introduce me, but she runs away, I wake up grasping for breath, my stomach upside down, and feeling like I am buried alive.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

What would you say??

The young man is talking to her, at the same time has one hand on her boobs, the other on her butt, enjoying his time.

She is talking to him, close.

He, the not so young man is watching. Angry. He, is the husband.

He says to the young man, in a pissed off voice:

“Stop this, or I will not talk to you!!”


Tuesday, June 07, 2005

From hero to zero...

The visitor comes from London to Tampere for a weekend. The only thing he knows about this town is the name, Tampere.

The host takes him out.

When they are walking back home from the bar, both pissed drunk, the visitor starts a chat with two girls on the street. The host waits for him to get shot down, but things are going well. He waits for a while, as the visitor doesn't have the key to his place. But things are actually going very well as they start to kiss. So he goes and tells to the visitor that he is leaving and he should call him when he is done. Host goes home, sends the visitor an SMS to remind him to call when he is done and goes to sleep.

He wakes up with the phone call, gets up and before answering sees "Twenty six" missed calls...


So what happened

Visitor talking to the girls, manages to persuade the ladies to an afterparty in the host's place. So the visitor and two girls started to walk to the hosts place.

But the thing is no one knows where the hosts place is.

The visitor is desperately trying to remember, where the place was and in the meantime he calls the host constantly.

But no answer...

Calls again...

No answer...

Leaves a message,

"Brother, I got two chicks coming to your place, please answer"

Then girls leave a message,

"Hello, we are coming waaaakeee uuupp

More calls, no answer...

The girls still asking to go to host's place, call few more times, no answer...

They are wandering in the streets of Tampere, desperately trying to find the place. However, the girls get suspicious of the situation, and they bail out...

Two minutes ago, the visitor was the king of the world with two girls coming with him. Now he is outside left alone, no place to go, don't know where the home is.

But he keeps trying to wake his buddy up. No hope though. He leaves a message:

"Look fucker, I had two girls, they were coming to your place. They were coming to FUCK you fucker. But you fucked it up. I was trying to find the place, couldn't find it. Girls became suspicious, and they left home. I wanted to go with them but they said no.

Now I am outside, going to sleep on the bench. I am begging you, please wake up and find me or call me or do something."

No call...

Then he leaves another message, this time his voice is so low and so sad
"Look buddy, I found your apartment, rang your doorbell but you don't wake up. I will be sleeping on the bench at the park next to your apartment. So when you get this message, please find me"

After seeing twenty-six missed calls, the host feels something had happened, but due to alcohol in his blood and the sleep he cannot fully understand the situation.

So he asks, just after he answers the phone

"Were you lucky?"

"Fuck you big time, FUCK YOU"

(Thanks goes to the "host" for proofreading this text)

Can someone please explain me why the American flag was flying on the seven screens of a popular Finnish nightclub, when half the world is debating on the actions taken by this country. Not even mentioning the criticisms made especially in Europe on the way US lifestyle is being imposed on the rest of the world????

Monday, June 06, 2005

He doesn’t want it, so???

She goes to every guy present in the place:
“I know you want my pussy.”

None of the guys gives a good answer, until,
“No. And even if I would be more drunk than I am, I would not want your pussy.”

She just slaps him in the eye with the back of her hand….

(And gets slapped back. Five fingers on her face, and kicked out of the room.)
(Mentor in action)

Finnish creativity greeting travellers leaving the train after a two hour ride...

Difficult girls - By a friend

He sent this to me for Finndistan:

I am leaving old bricks inn, going upstairs to the exit door and suddenly a lady stops me and asks:
- hey are you french?
- yes (not really :) )
lady's face changes and with a smile:
- well it is obvious anyway from your looks (there are many adjectives now to be called for her huh?..)
I say:
- i gotta go, my friends are waiting me outside, but how about you give me a kiss before I leave.
- sure I will kiss you, from the cheek though..
- C'mon you found a French man, you should give a french kiss
- OK
All conversation took around 20 seconds and I was french kissing with her.

Me and two other Turkish are having Pizza after a long night, around 4 am. Talking in Turkish, usual guy stuff. Then a lady comes and says:
- Are you talking in French?
my friend answers (with a French accent)
- Yeees...
Fifteen minutes later, they were taking a cab to his place.

Again, me and two other Turkish had Pizza after a long night, around 4 am. We left the Pizza place and started walking home. A lady was walking to opposite direction, when my friend said "Hi". Ten minutes later they were walking home together .. (whether they found home is another story)"

Wappu 2005.

Desperate move, or protective instincts?

When a man talks to a girl, and another man sees it, sometimes we have this incident that the watcher, upon having the opportunity, goes up to the girl and says stuff like:

“That guy you are talking to is a player..”

“Do you know he is dating more than one girl?”

“He is like this… like that… bla bla bla”

The list can be made infinite.

The funny thing is, if the girl has even a little self esteem, this talk she had with the second man will turn out to be after-sex talk with the man he was accusing, the player, the bastard, the whatever, even if it may have been true..

Reason I am writing this is that I do not want my fellow men to fall into this trap; it makes them comics characters for the morning to come…

Not that it bothers me to have something to laugh about…

Happened to me a few times, and has happened to friends a few times… Almost all the time, the second guy ended up as the jackass on the next day’s beer table…

And if the guy succeeded in his sabotage, congratulations, you made some enemies….

So please, either flirt with the girl, or shut up,

If you don’t want to end up like:

“Haha.. You know what that guy told me about you?”

Time is not as we see it

Sunday nite, picked her up from the airport, she came back from London, drove her home, after a night with a person I missed like hell in four days, the dreaded morning comes. Adding to this that the weekend had been heavy, I am devastated.

“What is the time”, I say, upon waking up…

“Nine”, she says.

“Good. Still not too late.. “

As I get up, I have a look at the clock…


And the reality drowns on me… Though she was the one coming back from London, I was the one in the wrong timezone, together with her phone…

Friday, May 13, 2005

Falling into my own trap

After the heavy drinking on the eve of Jesus’s rising eve I had only coffee and cranberry juice that Friday, and ran into a guy I know from Doris, he also is sober. After some good time spent chatting, he drops the bomb…

“I’ve read Finndistan, and got hooked on it. Because of my origins and my life here, I can understand what you write about.”
“I m glad”
“One thing I read, made me remember one thing you said to me, and that made me laugh outloud”
“What is that?”
“The last time I saw you, you told me the thing you hate hearing from people and that is one thing which you always write about…”
“And that is?”
“You told me: ‘You are always here’”

Yup… My trap.. My foot.. And a good laugh.


That night, she was out of town, I think.. I any case, I went to a bar with the guys, having good time.

While I am on my way downstairs to the loo, almost exploding, I see one of her good friends,

“Hello there” she says, “Hello”, I reply.. She introduces me to the girl beside her, a cutie with a white cap.
White cap instantly says,
“Hi, you are Turkish?”
“How come you come to that conclusion?”
“Its in the eyebrows of yours”
“The way you lift them when saying hi, that is so Turkish”
“Is it?”

Turns out she lived in Turkey for a while, but I cannot listen to the end of the story as I desperately need to pay my beer tax to mother earth.

Later, I meet them again on some stairs, and the chat continues.. Because I did not get much out of the first chat, due to my bladder, and few tequilasI ask once more:

“Did we meet before, or you just guessed?” The friend is also interested in the answer, so white cap goes on:
“I worked in Turkey as a travel guide. I am curious about Turkish guys. Had a summer love, but did not work out well… “

Well, a little chat about that, about this, that we actually train lifting our eyebrows, and that the love did not go well, and she is a blonde in Turkey, etc etc…

The Mediterranean guy I am, at some comment, I lift my arm, to touch her shoulder, and she jumps back, a “no no” look in her face.
“Ahhh.. I see… You are Finnish and anything closer than two meters is personal space. Forgive my Mediterranean manners”
Both girls laugh, and at that time, in front of those two, my butts are grabbed by one of the chicky girls in the bar, walking up the stairs with her friend.
This, changed the whole situation.
I turn to the buttgrabbers, my face towards them, but talking to the girls I was with in the first place:
“My butt is not to be touched by these two, That is not allowed.” This pisses of the buttgrabber, but the chat with my two continues.
Thirty seconds later, during the conversation, my butt is grabbed by the white cap, who, just a few minutes ago jumped back when seeing my hand reaching for her shoulder in friendly manners.

A few words exchanged, and my hand is on her arm.
At that point, where the tide had turned totally in my favor, the friend says they need to go. Upon the white capped saying “no”, the friend shouts at her, forcing her to leave.

If this had happened under other circumstances, I would have called this a heavy bitchblock, but at that day, I was happy that my human experimenting was finished by someone other than me, as the price for continuing would be too high for me wanting to pay. I learned from this, what was to be learned, and that is priceless…

Single guys: Find a few girlfriends who will hug you, and laugh with you in the bar. Then you will see how many ready ladies there are, like ripe apples on a tree.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

This is reason for war

She is cute. Her friend sexy.

Has a red tshirt on, and a metal belt which has slid to the side. The guy goes, no impression on his face, looks into her eyes, puts his hand on her belt, corrects it. Smiles.

“Now it is right”

She smiles, her friend snarls:
“You Turk or what?”

Fuck you.

It all depends...

I hugged her, a girl that I like, a friend of a Finnish delight,

My friend comes into the picture,

“Hello, I am Turkish, bartender, and own a kebab place.”
“Bartender,” I say, “This girl is not a usual Finn”
“No I am not” she says,
“She is one of the clever ones” I say,

“Ok, I am a Turkish, a bartender, but do not own a kebab place” he says, we all laugh.
Easygoing people are the good people.

My mistake

She says Hello,
I say Hi...

Once upon a time I tried to help my friend out by hitting on her, so she will not trouble my friend, who was hitting on her friend.

These two girls are always together.

“You two are always together, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are desperate.”
“…. You know you Finns have a very interesting definition of desperation. “
“Why you are saying this?”
“I don’t see a reason why two girls hanging around together should be called desperate.”
“But I did not say “desperate”, I said “best friend” “
“Can I write this?”
“You can.”

Friday, May 06, 2005

Funny translation, again

Whoever translated this, thought purely in Finnish.
I mean, if I would start selling rolled out condoms under the name: Dickbags, would it be good business, I wonder.

Gratitude goes to O. for info on this shop.

Friday, April 29, 2005

Preventive action

A Saturday out, drinking in Onnela, I see a pupil of mine,

He comes over,

“Hey, whatsup”

“Hello, nice to see you”

“You know, whenever I go out, and…”

“Stop. Don’t say it, I know what you’re gonna say..”

“Umm.. OK…??”


Met a few friends for a drink on a nite, and we went to Emma, there was supposed to be a porn party... Porn my ass…

Chatting, four guys, Smirnoff ice, by the dancefloor, I am leaning on some rails with my butt…

I feel hands on my butts, turn around to see two girls I know the face of…, don’t pay attention, and continue chatting with the guys…. If I sleep with any of those two, I will be pussy brothers with half the town, have no intention for that….

A few minute later, again a hand.. This time the other of the two, so I turn around:

“Whose hand was that, ladies?”
“No hers, I wish it was mine”

“So, next time you want to do something like that, first say hi, and then ask for permission”
“But you will not give it”
“Maybe.. Maybe not”, and turn around….

Question: Did I miss a pussy?
Answer: Yes, maybe two…

Question: Was it worth it?
Answer: Definitely.

A memory..

After some time not calling her and seeing her in places without saying hi’s to eachother, I saw the lady with her friends, and the people beside me told me they were talking about us...

I felt the appetite for some fast sex with an old fuckbuddy…

A few days later, I sent her a message..
“Next time we are in the same place, we should holla eachother..”
The answer came very fast,
“OK. Do I know you from Spain?”

I kept on wondering what her bodycount in Spain could have been… The whole day…

Am aware that considering the upper story, I may have disagreed to become pussy brothers with Tampere, but then it turns out, long before that, I managed to end up being pussy brothers with half of southern Spain, well…. Life is a bitch…

Monday, April 25, 2005

Unwanted rudeness turned around

In the same bar, see this guy I know from the gym. He has two women beside him. One of them, I know from the Body Pump lessons…

Get myself introduced.

I know she is older than I am, though many twenty year olds would want her body… and I know she knows I am younger than her, though not as young as I am, with a body I would not be in the position to comment about. :)

Chatting for less than a minute, she reveals she is thirty five,

“I have a son three and a half years old…”
“Oh.. He is younger than I am”

This stupid and rude remark made by me, somehow turned out to be a good icebreaker, and the chat, to my surprise continued in a fun way…

This once more proves the rule, “Does not matter what you say, does matter how you say”

Though, I believe, if you go and say “hferfsfdfvhfd hoooaaaa booaaa rghpfffffft”, this rule will not apply…

Freaky situation

Some time ago, playing a game with buddies, and as I am winning once more, do not concentrate on the game, looking around…

So I see these two girls sitting in the corner checking me out. Fine. I am winning..
“Guys, I am passing all the next rounds”
And go to the ladies’ table…

Some chat, some drinks, me, the two girls, and a guy leave the place, to go to some other.
Half an hour later, me, the two girls, but no guy leave that place, too…

Here are two conversations from that night:

Girl 1:
“Tanja, come here, join us”
Girl 2:
“No, I am in a relationship for five years”

She was naked in less than five minutes…

Late that nite, three thirty, on the landlady’s bed.. Naked…

“No, you go sleep with her”
“I don’t think we two fit on that couch…”
“You can’t sleep here”
“And why is that?”
“My boyfriend will come in half an hour”
“I will take a walk then”……..

Fast comeback one

In a home party, many people, there is the youngest one, a nineteen year old Russian girl.
Everybody is going fast on the booze, except her.

So I say, with my twenty seven years of experience, and remembering the many times I was the sober one:

“Not drinking, you will have many stories in the mmorning to tell”

She made me shut up:

“Yea, and you will be the funniest one”


Fast comeback two

In the trendiest bar, the guy, unsober,

Turns to the girl, looks at her eyes, smiles,

“Nice boobs”

Like a flash she grabs his whole package,

“Nice dick”


p.s.: This text was re-edited, as I remembered a few small details wrong...

If I would be, what shall I be troubled about?

A friend of mine talking to a guy,

“Where are you from?”
“Wow, I never thought Turkish guys could be cool”

Shall I cry for the image of Turkish men,
Or the possibility that this guy, who knows me from before, may know that I am also a Turk, and be surprised by a Turco Coolio….????

Who had more pleasure?

Long time ago..
By the lake, a summer morning five am...
Having sex on a rock…

When I am finished,
At the edge of the woods, I see an old man coming out to the open…
Wonder who had more pleasure……

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Perversion.. Desperation.. Whatever

After long time, entered the website,,

A chat site with pics etc,
Mainly accommodated by teens and younger adults.

I got curious and checked who is there…

126080 Finns
1649 Turks
1261 Slovenians
834 Swedes
730 Americans… list goes on....

The Turks are leading with a big difference among the non-Finns.. And the site is a Finnish site.
Then I went to check who these Turks are, and the chats they had…

The Turks I saw mainly range from 17-22…
And most are in Istanbul (no surprise due to 14 million inhabitants), and our seaside towns, who, Turkish women call beachboyz...

The thing which caught my attention was that most of the good comments for these guys were given by female kids, 13-15…

There were a lot of comments like “neekkeri”, “nigger”, “mustapää” (blackhead), given by young male Finns.. Not my topic right now…

A few of these Turks will be visiting Finland in the summer, and many will meet the girls in the summer vacation in Turkey…

I have no problem with age differences in love, I was young, too. When I was eighteen, though, I would not even consider dating a fifteen year old kid, let alone flirt with her…

I do not know which is more perverted / desperate:

Turks leading the foreign subscribers to a Finnish, “hello let’s fuck” site?
Guys way past their adolescence hitting on girls with barely developed breasts?
Girls of the age of kids calling “men” to fuck with them…
Thirteen year olds going on a holiday, and sleeping with twenty year olds….
At least ten Turks hitting on the same kiddo in similar ways…
These kiddos, when gotten older, go to Turkey for a “sun and fuck” holiday, upon coming back, snarl at you when they hear you are Turkish…
Or that Turkey is considered to be made up of just these boyz....

So many more options can be added to the choice list, there is no need…

I have lived my life in a manner which is not liked by many, but I still have my conservative thoughts considering kids. That is my problem that I am trying to get across. End.

Feedback from a Turkish reader:

You should have been harsher on the Turks.. they are the desperate perv... Thirteen year old Finns are just kids... Its the twenty year old men who hit on them, who are making me sick.

Once again…

“Can you hear better with those ears?”
“Yes. Where are you from?”

Happened to a friend of mine, when he was commenting about the bunny ears she had on. It turned out that she loved the country he came from, and the chat continued.

At this point I cannot agree to the saying that “We are just curious”…

No… It sounds more like “I am going to talk to you depending on where you come from”
And this, my friends, is racism.
And this, sadly but naturally, backfires.
Especially on women…
It’s your choice…..

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

My apologies

In the past week I have been busy transferring the old stories to the blog, and that takes some time..

Of course, the sun is also a big factor here...

The whole archive is now here, on the left side. The link to old Finndistan, is also there.

If you passed by time after time, I apologize for not having new stories, I can say, older stories took the update from the newer ones.

Thank you,


In the market

Eating this pussi definitely has no risk of getting any sexually transmitted disease.

Surveillance... Finnish Style.

Not very difficult to bypass this camera???

P.S.: I heard some people did not realze the place of the power plug. Just plug it out, and walk under the camera.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Cockblocking my friend....

I did it..

I managed to get myself into one of my stories once more...

In a night, after offering shots to a few friends in my place, and getting some cocktails made for me, we head out…

At one point of the night, a redhead, who is a friend of one of my guys enters the scene..

She was with us the night before, and there seemed to be a mutual attraction between another one of my guys and her…

As I am coming back from the loo, I see them talking, go to them, look at the redhead, turn to the guy, and go:

“Now you will dance with us”, turn to the girl,

“I am borrowing him for some time”

And he, being also unsober, takes on my order, leaves the very promising chat, and joins me to the dancefloor where we had a handful of guys and a handful of girls waiting for us…

Thing is, as my friend later found out, the redhead was not going to be waiting...

How relevant is this information????

Today, I read in the archives of Helsingin Sanomat (Helsinki News) an article about HIV infected mothers. Here is the article.

While talking about how well the Finnish healthcare professionals have managed to stop the child from getting infected by HIV, they mention that in a number of cases, this has not been possible. These cases, it is reported, are mainly immigrant mothers, who did not know, or did not have access to proper care.

Later in the article, it is written that 60-70 Hepatitis B carrying pregnant women have been diagnosed, “most of them of foreign origin”….

I felt discriminated.
I felt as if I am a virus carrier.

“Hey Suomalainen, see, we have a few cases of local sicks, but we can treat them well.. But beware of the foreigners, they are spreaders of the viruses”

The same happens when a foreigner is struck down by Finns… Hardly seen in newspapers…
Beware if a foreigner does it…
Want to point out that: I am using multiple for Finn, singular for Foreigner...

Really, cannot blame the Finnish people too much, with such an attitude of newsmaking…

Monday, April 04, 2005

Would you mind if I ask for a small request?

Hello all!!

I thank you for being on this site, and hopefully enjoying it!!
I will kindly ask you to send me the title of the stories you like most.
One, three, five… Just let me know which ones are your favorites.

You can send me an email,

Or just use the comment function below.
Thank you a lot,
I will appreciate your help!


At least, make some sense...

It was a night in Ilves, after a drinking party in my place…

The night itself was superb. Met one of the few females who mean a lot to me, and her company became my company’s company. A few girls from the gym joined us, and we had the dancefloor dominated.

I was enjoying the shy looks from girls I got... Known and unknown…
Enjoying letting opportunities slip by…
Enjoying the hatred in the eyes of Finnish men getting shot down by my ladies one after the other, just like the foreigners’ hatred, who were getting cockblocked by my guys, one after the other.

Dancing not close to us was this friend of a girl from the gym, the gym girl being with us, her friend preferring to stay outside.
One of my guys goes to take her into the midst of action, during a latino song...

This guy can shake his ass, with no rival to him except me and a French guy…
This guy can do the salsa, this time with no rival. – Except maybe the Cuban salsa teacher in town.

So he goes to the girl…
Shaky shaky…

Imagine a salsa dancer in a Russian army parade. That was what it looked like...

Gets closer,
Starts the dance,

And once more gets an ultra-comment:

“You are clumsy”


(Dictionary definition:
Clumsy: Lacking physical coordination)

One lightbulb in my head

Always wondered why I cannot put myself to go and learn the language of the country I am living in.

It is disrespectful not to speak it after four years... Even though I can let my thoughts out in the native language, it is not more than a two year old kid…

So as I was sitting in Coffee house with a lady form Norway, talking about this and that,

The subject arose, and how difficult Finnish is and so… I noticed the couple sitting beside us, having a lively conversation, and a spark lit up in my head...

I told her:

“You know, it’s not the lack of time, or the difficulty of the language, no… It is the fact that not knowing the language well, not understanding your surroundings, gives you the feeling of being a tourist, the feeling of having a temporary stay in a place. I think that could be it…”

Patience test

“Where are you from?”
“Now that you ask, I am half German, half Turkish….”
“But where have you lived?”
“Mainly in Turkey…”
“Where is your home?”
“I have no home”
“No no.. Liar... You must have a home”
“You don’t want to admit it yourself; you have a home and don’t want to admit it… So you are lying”
“Look, some people are lucky; they have a place they can call home. I am unlucky.”
“Noo… You are lying... You do not want to tell your home…”

My face changes, and at last he realizes he is in a minefield...

He leaves.
I light a cigarette, and shake my head.

Home is where my family is. Home is no place. Home is where I can smell my family. Home is where my brother throws a hardcover book on my head on a Sunday at eight am. Home is no place. Home is air. Air close to my bloodline.


Just was chatting with a friend, and he asked me:

Friend says:
do you know a girl called Olla?
finndistan says:
zzz's friend
Friend says:
No Olla
finndistan says:
tall, 25... frequents henries,….
Olla.. describe
Friend says:
Tall and dark waved hears
she knows you as a german
do you have the number? I do. With can compare and see if she is the same person
finndistan says:
No number.
So she knows me...
Tall and dark waved hairs..
that is ulla
or olla
Friend says:
finndistan says:
isn't she zzz's friend? in onnela saturday
and we talked to her in ukko a few months back?
Friend says:
Probably. I knew her but cant remember from where.
finndistan says:
Friend says:
She asked about you.
finndistan says:
now I am curious.
friend says:
then she told that there is another onnela in helsinki but her friend told her that many turks in there and she made a disgusted face.
i was laughing my ass off
finndistan says:
Will send to you for confirmation.
Friend says:
but she gave me her number because some party and she wanted to invite me... Or probably you

She knows me as a German.. Wonder about her reaction about me ending up at her party with a turkish flag and a bottle of raki.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

In ”The Club”

Barhopping on a Friday, heavily boozed.. Tried five to six places..
Go to “The Club”, after receiving a tip.

Never again.
The place looks like:

P.Diddy video clip, with the brothas washed at 120 degrees, and then thrown into a bleaching pool,
Wearing their old clothes…, or shall I say, swimming in their old clothes,
Still trying to be pimp,
Still trying to be hip.

White bugs swimming in a black man’s clothing.
Sorry, have no time for that.

Ah, and I wonder, who started this trend of these basketballers sucking on a lollipop…
Almost two meters, around a hundred weight, and a fucking lollipop in the mouth…


Thursday, March 17, 2005

I am da Turk

As you have read a shitload of times, being a Turk in Finnish nitelife is the worst thing you can be. A Turk is a monster, a rapist and any other description you can find to explain a psycho…

In the nitelife we don’t have many Turks though…

The kebab people, are not Turks anyway…

One is from Italy… Funny, that guy is from my town actually…

Another guy, also from my town, is Spanish…

Few others, including a stripper, used to be Italians…

I have not seen one kebab guy who is Turkish, when the night comes…

So, we pass them…

As for the academics…

One guy, who immigrated to Australia when he was a kid, does not even talk to the Turks, in fear his Aussie mask will fall off…

One guy who was born in France, rightfully calls himself French…

One guy from Turkish town Istanbul, has a hobby of going international, he has tried being english, german, north and south cyprus, norway, greek… And I have to add, its funny to see how many women fall for this….

Left are two guys who determinedly go for being Turkish.
One is me..
And one is a guy with “boyish charms”

That leaves me, to account for the bad image of the Turks in town..
Being the only one known to be Turk, even though half blood,
And considering the image Turks have,

I must be a motherfucking badass….
........Of the worst kind…

P.S.: I have to add, I do not favor these kind of acts, as in the long term they destroy my reputation, as I happen to know guys having this kind of behavior. But still funny how the same guy gets turned down when being Turkish, and then gets laid when not. The same guy, the same act.

Nationality gets you laid

French talking to a girl, friend comes in...
Girl leaves the french, goes to the friend,

“I like your french friend, but you are Austrian (country changed), I had two Austrian boyfriends, that is why I will go with you”


The austrian,

Is actually a Turk.

She fucked the wrong country.

Or got fucked by…


As if I care....

Four guys in Doris, one active flirting with some chick...
Three guys chatting with eachother.
After a night chatting with these three friends in Doris, total guy’s night out…,
(nobody of interest in the bar)

We leave the bar, eat something, go home…
I watch a movie, and sleep around five am…

At exactly six thirty, a message comes.

Everybody knows not to call me in the morning, so a message must be important.
I jump off the bed, heart racing at two hundred, open the phone, and see the sender:

“Guy flirting with the girl”
So I press, “Read”:

“Hehe.. Mission accomplished”

At six thirty. With almost an hour of sleep, I could have shot the bastard.
What the fuck do I care, where you put your dick into.


Right seeker, wrong heat source...

Three months or so ago,
Am in Doris, and chatting with some people I know, and checking this chick out.
Meanwhile, sms’ing with the lady nobody in the bar can take place of.

So, it turns out I will leave in a few minutes,
Go to the two guys who stand there by the bar, trying to look cool, checking the same girl out as I am…

“Hey, look, I am going to talk to the girl, if you won’t make your move now”
“If you go now, you have no chance.. Her pussy is wet for me”

“Go, or I will go, enter, get number and exit”
“If you go now, you will destroy our image”

“Are you going or not?”
“She’s checking me out, I ask you not to go”

I am in a hurry,
So I leave the bar.

Next time I see the guys,

“So, you kindly asked me not to talk to her. Did you at least make a move?”
“After you left, she left”
“aaaaaaa--- haaaaaaaaa”


Many guys will agree with me that they dislike condoms, but we gotta use them…
Many guys will agree that women actually await some kind of performance…
Many guys will agree that alcohol is not good for a good shag…
Many guys will agree that six a.m. –without sleep- is not a good time for a hump…

What would you say to this:

A girl, at every second push asking:

“Is the condom on?”
Dup dup

“Is the condom on?”
Dup dup

“Is the condom on?”
Dup dup

(“Shut the fuck up”)

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Poor Finnish men

After playing four hours scrabble, I ended up in this student party.

Enter the bar, and it feels like any other bar on the south coast of Turkey.

Shitload of dark haired men, with a few blondes in between,
Shitload of blond women, with a few darks in between..

That night I did not do any approaches, the atmosphere was so damn funny, I spent all night observing.

If we had acted like that to the girls, when in highschool, we would be dismissed on the spot, for being too available and slimy… And, that with less than seventeen years of age…

Looking at the faces on these loverboys dancing with the cute young “innocent” female finns… The picture opened up,

Add extreme slimyness to that, what you get is,






I believe, people do what is most profitable.. So, acting like that is most profitable for these guys.

And you should have seen the finnish women, in love, even for one night, with these loverboys… And the boys, happy faced like they found some treasure… Actually I could see a guy’s tongue hanging to his right side.. No, my right side, so his left, on the dancefloor. An act which condones death sentence for any other nation including finnish guys themselves, in finnish nightlife. Not for those guys… I was laughing all night…

But then, spanish provide good sex.. – It's said. They may.. I don't care.

At the end of the night even though I was still smiling, I felt pity.. Felt sorry…
For the Finnish male.

Feeling, if I were a Finnish guy, I would be so pissed off with my country’s women, for drooling over these guys, for the love to the behaviour that would, if I were to behave in such a way, have marked me as hopelessly desperate forever, in the same women’s eyes…

When I woke up in the morning, I still had the smile in my face. Was laughing while brushing my teeth...

Ah, one more thing…

It’s all in the image.

Wherever I stand, whatever I do...

She comments:

“Yes I am in the back.. I do not need to be in the front, and watch myself in the mirror all the time…. Like you”

To a guy who generally takes no longer that ten minutes to get ready for a Saturday nite.

Yes, I am in the front. I like to be in the front. The mirror in the front is just a bonus.

I don’t like to be in the back. Besides being claustrophobic and bad aired, It feels like I am there because of the few beautiful butts in front of me. A feeling which proved itself.

I was in the back once. I had this butt in front of me.. Ten centimeters from my face. Going up, going down, squeezing the butt, expanding the butt… And it was one hell of a butt… When I was watching it, I could not follow the instructor, forget following the music… My heart was beating in harmony with the butt.. Up.. down.. up.. down.. up.. dup… dup…dup… dup… When I was trying not to watch it – imagine trying to turn your head by ninety degrees, doing deadlifts – my neck was killing me.. Wow.. that was some butt… Yea… And the training sucked while giving me injury.

So, I choose training over sexual excitement, and moved to the front…
If I had not, I can imagine, ....
If I were in the back, she would have said,

“See I am in the middle… I do not need to be in the back… and watch women’s butts all the time… LIKE YOU”

How could I forget that???

I turn around to scan the place for possible prey…
“Hey, It’s youuuu” a girl shouts…
I had no idea where I knew her from, though I knew I met her somewhere…

Later that night I go up to her, and ask where I know her from…
“Bebop”… BOOOOOM… Light bulbs flash…

I could not remember one of the two girls.. Three of us on the stage, the two being the most bitchy and most sexy girls in the bar, giving me an almost private lesbian show, at a distance where I could hear the kissing…

How in world did I manage to forget?

Tuesday, February 22, 2005


Men..... Men.....

Enter the bar.
I see four friends of mine, two by two, sitting independently...
We are in Koti.
There is this German-beergarten-like big table.

There is an interesting seating arrangement:
Two guys who I know, but who do not sit together, sit in such a way that they have a girl between them.
I want to talk with both.

The girl is sitting on a chair which has no back (forgot the name of that... In German, its “hocker”)... and she is leaning forward...
“Hey, what if I were to ask if I could share your chair?”
She looks up, smiles, and moves to the right…

Just as I was sitting down,
The guy on her left goes:
“Hey, I was talking with her”

I say, fine, and tell the girl; I meant that I will sit on her back, not side,
She moves back to the middle, and a little to the left...

I move to sit down,
The guy on her right….

“Hey, I was talking with her”

Secrets... Life... A text with no point.

Ain’t it somehow secrets, that everybody wants to know?
Nobody wants to know common knowledge…
Can be in the form of white lies,
Can be shattering truths.

Sometimes secrets you find out, accidentally, which you realize you should never have known…
Sometimes they are told by others…

These secrets, told by others, can be forgotten easily, maybe because they were told; you think they cannot be crucial... Or possibly they would not be so powerful… Or you somehow know they were not only told to you….

Secrets you find out... Stumble upon… Put two and two together…
Life shattering…
Secrets you know you will have to take to grave…
Secrets you cannot even tell the person who they belong to…
Secrets that are not yours… Which may affect you nevertheless…?
Secrets you need to get out… Can’t….
Secrets that cause stomach pain…
Secrets which have taught you life lessons, in not to trust even your closest…
Secrets which have taught you even the smallest talk can be used against you…
Secrets which will shape your later life….
Maybe even secrets which you have used for your own good, with all the right to use it…
This way or that,

Some secrets are a burden you will have to carry forever, in your grave, they will be the fire burning in your bones, in your deathbed, and they will be the words which you will have a hard time holding back… The knowledge you will be happy to keep secret till your flesh turns to earth……….

Some things need never to be revealed.

The "curse" of finndistan

This weekend I met two cute girls...
With one I talked before…, the sweet one…
With one, it was the first time…, the vamp...

Both told me they read Finndistan.
Possibly I would not have met them if this site did not exist…

During our conversation, the sweet one had told me she would never go for a drink with a guy like me, even though she liked my stories.
With the vamp, it was the usual “you will not have me tonite”, without me even making a move… I did not care... I like women who play men… And I like to play along…

What if I had not written all the stories here...?
And I had met these women…
What would have happened?
Without this heavy macho image in the stories, for which I have to admit am contributing heavily in life,
What would be my starting point?
What would be my ending point?
What difference does Finndistan make?
I wonder.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Golden Knowledge One

”When you talk to a girl it means you think she is easy.”

“What if I turn my back to her, and she tries to talk to my back?”

“Then you are a challenge”

“A girl chasing me, even though I have disgraced her,… is a cheap slut without respect for herself (edited later), … who I have no time left for”

“Noooooo.. she is just chasing you”

“And when I am talking to her?”

“Like I said, means you think she is easy.”

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Golden Knowledge Two

”Finnish guys only come and talk when they are drunk...

And you talk when you are not drunk, that is too smooth”


Saturday, February 19, 2005

You can see the Dutch are Full of Shit..., a clothing shop sign for the
cabins... : )

P.S.: "Paska" means "shit" in Finnish

Friday, February 18, 2005

The lightness in the cruelty of honesty

Honesty is cruel.

If I must be honest enough to write the four conversations I had this weekend, with three girls, the cruelty that will be posed here, and the insincerity, makes me decide not to write them. – Maybe, if I did not know they read this page, I would have put the words down….. Maybe…

I still cannot throw away this text; believe that once the title is written, the rest should come. Otherwise it's bad karma.


A question I put to a girl, curious for the answer, no anger, no pain, just curiosity… Did not get an answer I wanted (I wanted a negative one), got an honest one word answer. The one honest word explaining more than bookfulls, was painful..., even though it would have been an ego treat for most guys. I saw the pain, the irresoluteness, the unknown, the want and the holding back in the answer… It was honest... It was painful... Not what I wanted… But it relieved... At least me…. The walls you build around yourself, the walls that are existing around you, imprisoning your feelings, the natural protection you have surrounding you, the need for keeping your soul intact… The naturality in this occurrence. And the honesty in letting the words flow.

A friend I saw... Chat... Sitting on my lap… She’s warm… In good shape… A long time flirt… Fun girl... Never slept... Will not sleep… But the ten minute conversation we had, during a flirt without the prospect of sleeping together… Talking about sex and us, honesty… Not exactly words every guy would like…, which some would take as flattering… … It was honest, and the way things were said, the truth, the knowledge in them, and the honesty of realizations, even though the realizations were pushed with the back of the hand… Their mere existence, just knowing they exist, and she has no problem in saying them, was the thing I was looking for… More than a flirt... More than a fuck... Though it would’ve been a good one.

Later that night I see this girl who slept in my place once, with my t-shirt on… Kind of a romantic girl… Because of her I misjudged my last minute targeting, and let my shots go astray... A good-looking girl, and young. Actually too young for the bar I was in… I was surprised to hear that she wants me to walk her to her father’s place. And I declined. No need for blue balls… (Shout asshole if you want…) Later in the night I got a message, an unexpected explanation. Reading it, it was not hard to realize that writing that message was not easy. And what I read in that message made me felt better than the one night stand I had lying beside me. It was honest. It was a little girl, in a big world she did not know yet. She knew it was a big world, and accepted it. A let me know it. In words which are unusual….

Earlier, the honesty in hearing I was played, the openness in the game, instead of turning around, made me play along. Join it. With the only outcome being the momentary fun, I enjoyed the game which played itself out in an ultimate power chess, strategies laid out, unknown, only to be revealed and counterattacked. Strategies, in which the honesty lay by accepting their existence… In which the honesty existed by accepting the presence of bad intentions. That made me stay and have a good time.

I thank you for being honest.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

One sad story

(I received this from a friend, so I can post it)

He looked good, he was nice and he was available. He started talking to me and offered me drinks… Obviously I stayed with him.

He lived in Helsinki and had a wife and a baby in there. He didn’t care for that so why should I have?

He was in Tampere to play tennis, the games were about to continue 10 am. the next day, had an early wake-up. I didn’t care.

Closing time, we left. He came home to me, he paid the cab as nice men do…

Started taking off his clothes, then mine…

He was far too small and far too fast, about three minutes of “fun” and that was it.

I was totally pissed off.

He wanted to sleep, but couldn’t cause I had music on.

I turned out the music being too bored to sleep.

Then he started kissing me again and wanted me to give him a blow job. Hah! After all that pleasure he had totally failed to give me, he was the one wanting more…


Told him to call a cab and leave.

He tried to resist but finally got the point and started getting clothes on.

I kicked him out around 5 am. and finally fell asleep, thanks to the drinks he had bought me.

Did not miss him in the morning.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Finnish women pick up style...

A Sunday chat with a friend usually provides me with good stuff….
Writing with permission:

Following a long and friendly talk with a lady in Panama, (this sentence was edited by the friend...)
The girl turns to the guy,

“Remember who initiated the flirt”
“Yea, me”

“No… me”
“I got my drink; I turned around, saw you, and said hi”

“Yes, but that was the second move”
“Come ooon, you were standing behind me; I did not even see you”

“No. I saw you, and came closer to you. I made the first move”
“But you were on my back”

“You were there with your friends?” she asks at some point...
“Yes... “
“The guy who got you the drink, he was your friend?”
“He is scary...”
“He is a good friend. Nice guy”
“He is scary…”

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Love at no sight

”I am from Canada”
”I love Canadians”
”Have you met any?”
”Nououou... ... ... ... ARE YOU TRYING TO BE A SMARTASS?”

Monday, February 14, 2005

Alcohol destroyed her...

Standing by the dancefloor, buddies dancing with girls, I am listening to the music...
A girl I’ve known three years ago, who happened to be a twenty two year old cute one, now, totally drunken, approaches:


“You fucked with my friend *****, years ago...”
“Yea, sadly it was only once”

“What’s up?”
“Fine and you? Long time I haven’t seen you.”

“Can you buy me a beer?”
“Why don’t you buy me a beer?”
“There are many guys here who would buy you a beer”
“Hmph… bastard”

Her friend takes her away…
After three years, her face had swollen, gained around ten kilos, looks like anything but a woman in form… an extreme beer belly…
I would not know what got her into drinking so much…
All I know is, drinking hasn’t helped her much.

And one thing I know by now, is to keep off women who drink too much... “Too much” is a relative clause, you’ll know when it is “too much”…

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Why always wrong timing???

I do it..
People I know do it..

When walking around, you see an acquaintance, and even though he, she is having a chat, they stop, and you have a half minute small talk.
When chatting with acquaintances, a known face passes by, and I pause my chat, to have a half minute small talk…
Quite usual, and quite often…

Another version of this is,
I am chatting with my friends, possibly laughing, bulshitting around, it sometimes is like a private stand up show, sometimes like a private forum on life, sometimes like playboy girl next door stories…
In the end we are a closed group. – at least in the coming context.

Why the fuck, does there always have to exist one guy none of us knows, enters with a stupid comment, and wants to take part in the conversation, whichever language it is taking part in, does not invite him..
It’s a group which is talking about any kind of shit, which most of the deep thinking finnish would be to deep to comprehend, anyway.

Just like it happened last time, guy comes, I get bored, crack some jokes, my guys laugh their ass off, the guy stands there like a fish in a bowl…
Back off…
If I want to talk to you, I would already have talked to you…

And the funny thing is, the sad truth at the same time, most Finns will hardly except your approach for chat if you are not referenced by a friend of his – e.g. a friend tell him you are a good guy, but will expect a whole group to accept him into a conversation, for which they have no fucking ticket.

Get tha fuck out of my face…

Women are welcome to join the conversation.
I know you will forgive me for the discrimination, as two boobs signal intelligence. :)

Friday, February 11, 2005

My apologies to the Italian Pizza people...

In Amsterdam,
We enter this Italian Pizza place, which has
“50% price on pizza”

Yea we say, and it turns out that the normal price of pizza is around sixteen euros, so the half price only manages to even the price with the neighbors…

I turn to the Italian on my table and say:
“You know, you Italians try to fuck the customers all over the world, you bastards” – Taking into account my experiences in Germany…

We finish eating, and I ask for the bill...
The waiter turns toward the kitchen and shouts,
“Yirmiuc numaraya hesap, kardes”
Which is in Turkish…..

Saturday, January 29, 2005

Are we all individuals, or are we shaped by culture?

In Panama, she was the first one to come and say hi, of course, when I was chatting with a little cutie, who turned out to be a reader of Finndistan, honoring me.

This is the girl from the story Brainstorming on one lost battle.. We met again at the exit of the bar…

While we are walking to the central square, she comes up with a comment about a friend that almost made me turn around and slap her face with a full blow by the back of my hand…

That did not happen, just for info… Though she deserved it…

Then when things settled, we were talking, and I told her,

“You Finn girls do not see that the foreigners come from a different culture.. You do not see that a different culture exists, and in that culture, behaviour is different. A foreigner acting in a special way, may have a different personality, intention and motivation that a finn… Possibly even uncomparable. And what is considered normal behavior in his culture may be feared or taken as desperate… ”

(By this I do not mean the women running around in chadors, or the irish women with twelve kids, or the german way of arrogance.

For example, a foreigner turning his back to you, is possibly telling you to fuck off, but a finn doing the same, is just playing the desperate “hunt me” game… That’s just one…

And I believe, and I have seen, as well as lived, that a foreigner, after all his lifelong training, if, chooses to play the finnish way, gets immense power. Turning into a fuckmachine running over corpses. )

“You explain everything by culture, that is wrong”

Soon after that we reached the square, and the conversation faded.

I take most of it resulting of culture.

Culture is formed by many factors, the biggest one being humans themselves.

But once culture is formed by these factors, it starts controlling the human behaivor.

Though there is the fact that every human is an individual, understanding the surrounding culture, the society allows you to predict the actions he/she is going to undertake with a high accuracy.

So, when I take the main reason as culture, I give the majority of the people acting in a way they do not like, e.g.: shyness, the power to change this, keeping in mind that the culture is a shy one, and that it is extremely difficult to run out of these boundaries.


If, culture is not the reason.

Then, for finns not being able to accept, tolerate and respect different cultures,… forget that…., simply not even realize the existence of different cultures, it must be an individual thing. And being so closed on individual choice, in fact, allows a person to label Finns as bigots, racists, single minded, and definitely not open minded, not even considering to think about, let alone change, their way of behaviour – which they complain so much about- , selfish and ignorant.

By the way, that is not what I think.

It is what I would think, ignoring the cultural effect.

Though someone wants to change, the surroundings may prevent it.

That is my idea.

Take this as you wish…..

As a flock of people, selfish, ignorant, alcoholics, rabbits, racists,


As a people, on the constant change, slowed down by the culture arisen from the ancestors, climate, geography, but striving for a better life, as slow as it may come.

For me, it’s the latter.

For you?

Monday, January 17, 2005

You have a girlfriend.... Problem?

“The thing is, I have a girlfriend”

“You miss her?”

“Yes I do”

…. she leans closer, to his ear:

“You could kiss me, and you could think of her… You could fuck me, while thinking of her”

p.s.: this is not me.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Bum Bloodbath

”He was just a bum”
American teenagers talking to the judge, during trials for killing a homeless man.

What is going on in Tampere these days?

Because it is between my gym and home, the train station is something which I pass by more than once every day.
Train station, is also the bum center of town. Maybe not literally homeless, but close to the description, they are…
Sometimes alone, sometimes in groups, a heavy smell of sweat and alcohol in the air.

In the past few days, I have been noticing that everyday another one had a cut face, badly bruised….

By now, half the buns I see have a badly cut face, blue eyes, a stitched eyebrow…
Yesterday saw this man and woman, woman’s both eyes blue, the man looked like out of a war…

Are these bums trying to kill each other,
Or I wonder,
Are there some attacks on them?

“They are just bums.”
“Its dark, I am depressed, I need a punching bag...”

Today I will walk again, and wonder which one of them will be the lucky one….

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Yes. A man is supposed to excuse himself for everything.


Situation 1:
Sitting on the edge of a chair, when suddenly the chair is jerked of under my feet, and I almost fall, if not able to catch hold, could have crushed the girl pulling the chair under me.

Possibility 1:
Turn to the girl,
“I am sorry. Did not realize you were going to sit here”

Action 1:
Turn to the girl:
“You know, when somebody is sitting somewhere, you do not pull the chair under them without notice, do you?”

Her friend sitting across the table starts shouting:
“Voi vittu saatana…..” Some curse words which I ignore.

Back to the girl:
“I almost fell... I would not want that. I almost fell on you. You definitely would not want that.”
The girlfriend still shouting some mambo jambo...
“Now, I expect an apology from you”
“I am sorry” she says, and her girlfriend stops shouting…

Outcome 1:
Five minutes later she hits her head on my arm, says she is sorry while I caress her hair is an “oh, it’s ok” kind of way… I don’t know how it would have continued, as a friend passed by.

Situation 2:
Walking in the bar... See a good friend from the gym, I am drunk, he is drunk, so instead of shaking hands like civilized males, we bump into each other, hug, and say “Whazzzup”?
When the bumping humping is finished, I notice this tall girl standing there, cleaning some drink from her sweater, or skirt, dunno... Think it was some white wine…
Looking totally pissed off, like a bull in an arena…
Possibility 2:

“I am sorry, did not pay attention. I see your drink is still full, but let me get you another one, as my sincere apologies…”

Action 2:
Look at her, at the glass, at the skirt… Undress her in the meanwhile with my eyes... Look back at her,
“Wrong time, wrong place, eh?” and smile…
The bull is totally shocked, angry face turns into puppy looking lost look,

I continue, mentioning the glass,
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“No, thank you”
I leave...

Outcome 2:
During the night, she was always somewhere close to me….


Is there a point?
No, there is no fucking point,
Just wanted to brag about silencing enemies without starting a war with them.
And felt good.
Maybe there is a point…
I ain’t the one who’s gonna tell it.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

A new definition of bastard...

Married guy,

After a night in Panama, a workplace party, he, after being totally passive – I saw it, I can testify for it – end up outside, with a lady.

“Goodnight” he says,

“What goodnight” she says…

“I will go to my place…”

“You fucking bastard….”

By not making a move, had he acted willing? I would so much like to understand…

Monday, January 10, 2005

Humans or pussy?

Was talking to a friend.
And the question came up:

“You know, these women having no clue that someone can also see them as the human they are is something I cannot grasp”

The answer he gave was:
“Because they do not want you to see in their true being , in their desperation”

“See, if you see them as pussy, they have what you want, they give you what you want, while also getting what they want, but you are the desperate one, not them….”
“If you see them like human, they will not be able to give them what you want, and you will see through their mask, their desperation.”
“So, they basically run away from the situation where they may be treated as humans, a thing which will end up in the revealing of their desperation”

“What I get from this is that, women should be treated as mere pussies..”
“Hmmm…. Not totally, women should be treated like pussies that we do not want”
“Better.. Very sad”

The friend who I talk about in the text added:
I didn't say that! ((( Finndistan:I said it, and he agreed.))) I'm still a gentleman :-) There are exception of course... I personally would never treat a woman as a mere pussy unless the situation requires that or it is her that wants to be treated like that (read as fuck buddies) (((Finndistan: For me, fuckbuddies are more than pussies. I meet them, I spend time more than the first night with them. So they have more of a value that the way pussy is used in the text above. After all, I respect my fuckbuddies. Do I respect a one night stand? Of course. Providing she also treats me with respect. If not, then not))) But of course I'm generalising here, while I guess you are focused on the "night bitches"... (((Finndistan: night bitches.. maybe.. as they also live among us… maybe some of them are daytime nicetieis??)))

Saturday, January 08, 2005

What backgammon is not...

That night, we went to Koti,
Seven, eight guys, and one girlfriend….
Looking around I see that they have these nice leather backgammon boards….

I start craving for a game…

Turn around, and ask the Indian behind me if he plays backgammon, I had forgotten that the game chess was invented by Indians, not backgammon..
No, he says,
So I ask two other indians, and a few finns…
No… is the answer…

I find the guy who I did not ask yet, who likes these “game evenings”,
“Hey, do you know if anybody here plays backgammon?”
“Yea, lets play..”

“Right, so you know how to”
“Wait, let me find people.. How many players do we need?”

I gave up the search.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Sometimes I deserve to get whipped

New Year’s Eve…

Huge party…

A lot of beautiful people…
A lot of booze…
Unbeliavably good music…

I go to the cafeteria upstairs to get a drink..
See this girl…
Think it is the girl I talked to, in Paradiso, two days ago..

Sit down by her,
Have a lovely chat… For an hour or so…

It is around two, and the girl says,
“What will you do tomorrow?”
“Possibly sleep”
“Do you have a phone number?”
“Hmmm… Let me give you my mail, that is more universal…”
Give my email, take hers, and she leaves, I go down to the dancefloor…

When I realized what I did…, not even the next morning…, at the exit of Melkweg,

I was looking for a pole to bang my head on…
Over and over….

Size matters.

There is a rumour about a Turkish guy following a black man into the toilets, just to ease his curiosity of the guy’s dick size...
He never recovered….


And here is a summary of a conversation that happened a month or so ago, I leave it to you to decide how to take it.

Buddy: I like that girl over there.
Me: I know her friend, we can go have a chat.
Buddy: Let’s go…

Me: Hi (To the friend, girl that I know)
Friend: Hello..
Me: So what are you girls talking about (To the other two, talking, one is the girl my buddy is interested in)
Girl 1: You don’t wanna know.
Girl 2: Girltalk

Me: Come on.. that is invaluable insider information.. What were you talking about?
Girl 1: So this girl is talking to a guy and then another girl goes to her and tells her he sucks in bed (makes a motion with the fingers, so they show half a cigarette sized dick).. The girl leaves…
Girl 2: See, you would not want to hear that..
Me: On the contrary, this is an insight to the truth…

Girl 1: Yea.. I like it big..
Me: so you like it big, or biiiiiiig.. (making extreme signs of small and big dicks)

Girl 1: Biiiiiig
Buddy: No. You are wrong, size is nothing..
Girl 1: No it is important.. Big is better…
Buddy: No. Ze size is not important…
Girl 1: ….
Buddy: It is how the man uses his dick. Not the size…
Me, trying to interfere without success…
Girl 2, and Friend cracking up…
Girl 1: I prefer bigger dicks.
Buddy: Then you have not slept with the right man who can use it…
Girl 1: I have to go..

Me, standing there still trying to comprehend the fast self destruction, Girl 2 and Friend having a knowing smile….
In the end,
Size does matter.

My friend commented: As long as the guy knows how to use his dick, size is not that important. Then again, too small, is too small.....

Monday, January 03, 2005

Why is it the wrong one?

New year’s eve…
Am walking around..

Suddenly a loud conversation emerges on my right…
Turn, and approach these six people, mixed men and women,¨

“So people, what about translating that?” – As they were showing me while talking…
This gorgeous late twenty girl shows me her friend, late twenties, countryside girl… huge breasts…
“This women is the most single girl in the bar”
“what about you?”
“Sorry I am not..”
“Hmmm… Wrong timing, wrong place, wrong girl…” – To the whole group, “Goodnite”

Five thirty….
I am going to the other dancefloor…
Part of the group is sitting…
A guy in the group goes:
“Hey you still single? She is single, what’ya think about it?”
Have to admit…

The thought crossed my mind for a few seconds….

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Is life in Tampere like being buried alive?

(I wrote this at the beginning of november)

I don’t know where to start…

But I believe that there are people reading this, having come from big metropolitan towns, asking themselves what the fuck am I doing in this village,
Who would see themselves in this long pessimistic article…

Tampere, four years now…
When I came here, the town was alive, fun, and a lot to see and to do...
Now, after all the time, the town is dying…
Forget about daytimes, even the Saturday nights are dull…

Two Fridays ago, went to bed early, so had an early wake up to Saturday…
Had no fucking clue what to do…
What would I do on a Saturday if not in Tampere?

Go play tennis…
Go play basketball…
Take my sister, girl, or friends, and drive to a lakeside to eat the best fish’n bread ever…
Meet up the guys, and choose which one of the countless big streets we will go to get a coffee…
Go to the uni, and play cards with those people…
Take my sis to the movies – 2, 3 euros…
Go hunting for sales… fifty sixty percent… Again, choose which one of the countless complexes I will go to…
Go, eat somewhere with the buddies… good kebab, and dessert for maybe 8 euros total…
Or, take sis to eat pizza, expensive, maybe 7 euros a man, but then, quality…
Drive to “The priest’s wineyard” and sit outside, have a great cup of tea, and great snack…

The difference with all these is that,
You do not get to see the same faces all the time…
It is crowded all the time…
It is warm at this time…
And feels like weekend.

So, am sitting home on Saturday.
If I want to go see city, only one choice, Hameenkatu... did that eventually…
Had a shop tour, went to the fishmarket, had some fish, walked around freezing, went home…

Wanted to play tennis? Freeze or pay a fortune…
Wanna eat outside… ? If not ready to pay 20 euros… You will be eating shit. – Except some Chinese... They are good… But the kebab, or pizza in town, is literally shit.

(Later in the week…)

The town feels claustrophobic…
Am in the bar,
Every second face, I know…
Every second face knows me…
Even though there are still many people to be met, the will to do so is inexistent… Even though experience showed, extremely interesting people are around the corner…

Just like daytime, if you want to see the crowd, you have only one choice, nighttime, offers two to three choices…
It is a small town…

And the hidden racism, combined with shyness and alcohol, makes the town smaller…
The daytime small town turns into a nighttime torture chamber…
I am aware that these are dilemmas of a single man…

Married and with kids, these problems don’t exist – but I have no fucking intention of bringing up kids in this cold... It is unfair… It is torture… Kids are supposed to be outside without ten layers of clothing…. Yep, I am shallow minded…

Strange though that I am now waiting eagerly for the colder weather to come, so I can start ice skating again, instead of this dull dark colorless, too cold to jog, no ice to skate thing…

And then…
Even from the “country of gay men”, Sweden, you can get direct flights to turkey, A hundred euro two way ticket…
Try it from here…
There is no way…

Cheapest flight is three hundred forty euros, and still not direct…
This is a country which has no direct flight to a fifteen million town, Istanbul… Not to Naples… and not even to Athens…
This is a country in the middle of nowhere…

Far from every thing…
Far from every beloved…

To travel to one of the biggest towns in the world, little further than two thousand kilometers, I spend nine to ten hours on the way…
Small country, far country…

Small town…

This morning I woke up sweaty… Claustrophobia hitting me... I needed to move… Helsinki... That’s good... But what to do? In Finland, as a foreigner, either gastronomy, Nokia, Universities of Bowne Global is your solution…. And right now I like my job... Challenging... The thing I will not handle the challenge though is the town... Sad... Good job in a too small town… A town which has a dying “social bar life”… And “social bar life” being the only thing offered in this cold… Is not outside…

Sometimes have dreams which get me out of sleep, afraid to sleep again…

I feel the need to get out, away, to a city with life… To a city, where, when I cannot sleep in the night, I can wake up at two am, get my coat, and take a walk around town, where there are lights, but also people, lost like me in the night, strolling around, eating on the sidewalk, sitting on small chairs, getting their sip of tea… To a city, where after the gym, after a long brainfucking day, with a tired body but a relaxed mind, I can go to a pub or café, and get some drink with the buddies, not being the only one served…

This used to be the case three four years ago…

Well, one way out of this is to stop myself from blocking me from dating…
And the need to block, I feel only for few select ladies… If not one only…
To narrow my focus from the whole surrounding to the miracle of a woman, the drama, the joy and the feelings inside, rather than the shadows of humans out there, out there just like me…
But I cannot stop the block... Will not stop the block… It is not my time to stop it yet... time will come... In its own time…

Until then, or until I leave, this town will be too small,

Me, having good time nevertheless, but also my nightmares of a confined cold coffin, with “Tampere” written on it, or my nightmares of going on a ship, into the water, away from the loved ones, and my nomad life will continue….

The problem with a small town is that it narrows the amount of interesting people, and consecutively the chances of meeting them…
And being a metropolitan town man, having met communists, feminists, assholes, mafia, Mafioso, people who tie others on a stick, naked, in nowhere, just because they did not pay their fees, having met thinkers, philosophers, bitches, atheists, Satanists with a combat knife always with them, having met fake mullahs, nice guys, good girls, crazy virgins, or just the opposite, people who make you judge your own intelligence, people who live with 50 euros a month, with a family, unemployed students who pay a round of bottled champagne of a hundred euros to the table,

And all of these, I and the met were sober,

I feel I am confined in this place, where you mostly meet people under the influence of alcohol, people who consider a two hundred thousand town a huge town, and people who are very stereotypical, similar… Reading only three of four different newspapers, watching four state controlled channels... You cannot expect diversity... And the few times you find it, you are thrown overboard, and happy...

Even this occasional happiness does not stop you from the occasional need to leave everything behind, get out and go...
If only I did not have my reasons to stay…
Finndistan would not exist…

But as long as I am around, and kicking ass, Finndistan will be up and running, full power!