#ModernMadness

MIHALOV STALKIEVICH & THE REVOLUT CARD

/ StoriesofStories / Leave a comment


Met Mihalov Stalkievich again today. Yes, that Mihalov—the walking psychological thriller with legs.

And, surprise surprise, he wasn’t alone. His shadowy “Intel” brother was lurking behind him like a badly written spy novel meets failed family therapy.

Because let’s be real: Mihalov doesn’t operate solo. No no.

He’s got Mr. Stalkievich 2.0 backing him up with an Intel-scented gang, like he’s starring in some underground Eastern European reboot of The Bourne Identity… but on mushrooms.

Scene change: dramatic.

I’m minding my business outside a bank, standing near a pizza store, contemplating the universe and digesting a lemon bar cookie like a responsible adult.

I toss the napkin—symbolic gesture of letting go—into a garbage bin.

And there it is.

Lying there on the top like a fallen angel:
A Revolut Visa card.

https://youtu.be/IXubBqd8uXs

Belonging to… wait for it… STEPANOVICH MIHAILOV.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

Stalkievich. Stepanovich. What’s next? Snuffleupagovich?

I’m surrounded by the Witchy-Wich Slavic-named chaos lords.

I’m not living in a city—I’m in an Eastern European fever dream directed by David Lynch and co-written by Kafka.

And this card?
A Revolut card?

Oh dear, we’re in the dark fintech timeline now.

We all know Revolut is basically a tech-savvy roulette table for money.

Full of controversy, flags, and probably controlled by interdimensional lizards.

The card expires in 2027. Perfect. That gives it plenty of time to destroy nations and fund alien drug rings.

Now, I’m standing there, holding the card like it’s the One Ring. Thinking.

What do I do? What would YOU do?

  1. Call Revolut and enter the 7-hour call-waiting labyrinth.
  2. Find a police officer (haha, good one).
  3. Leave it in the top trash where it was (maybe…).
  4. Go into the bank and ask them to play detective.

Naturally, I picked the adult option.

I went into the bank like a Good Samaritan with a touch of burnout and paranoia.

Plot twist: society is garbage.

The bank looked at me like I handed them a wet sock.

“We’ll check the name in our system… but if it’s common, we’ll just shred it.”

Excuse me??? You’re telling me a potential key to a human’s finances—a weapon or salvation, depending on how crazy this Stepanovich is—is gonna get turned into confetti because it’s not your brand?

Couldn’t even call Revolut? You’re a bank. You literally speak fintechese.

But no. Bureaucracy eats decency for lunch.

I walked out of that place feeling lost, leading my own soul down a Dante-style hellscape of capitalist indifference.

Honestly? They should replace “Welcome” signs at airports with:

“ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE.”


At least that would be truthful.

And as for me? I’m just a granny, trying to return a lost Revolut card, dodge stalkers, decode a brotherhood of lunatics, and survive in a world ruled by spreadsheets, sociopaths, and soft-crust pizza.

Welcome to the true madness.

/ StoriesofStories / Leave a comment



When Did Crazy Become the New Normal?

Ah, the holiday season—a time for joy, reflection, and… society’s image

Outside a store, someone injects heroin in plain sight.
Inside a café, a man sips expensive tea, mumbling incoherently to himself.
It’s like watching the collapse of normality with a festive bow on top.

Somewhere along the way, we lost the distinction between right and wrong. Today, wrong isn’t just tolerated—it’s celebrated, exploited, and turned into profit.

If you dare to speak up, you’re silenced, ridiculed, and pushed aside.
Doing the right thing now feels like you are against the world that rewards chaos.

Normal has become a luxury.

Look around. The system doesn’t just accept brokenness; it incentivizes it.

  • Addicted? Here’s an endless cycle of enabling.
  • Poor? No problem—there is happiness for that.
  • Lost all sense of reality? Great! You’ll fit right in.

Meanwhile, those trying to stay grounded, educated, and self-sufficient face a rising cost of living and declining opportunities. It’s as if sanity and responsibility are being systematically punished.

How did we get here?

On rainy streets, needles sparkle like Christmas tree ornaments—a perfect metaphor for a system designed to control through destruction.

It’s not just addiction; it’s an entire societal structure built on dysfunction.
The worst part? This new “normal” thrives on human lives—broken spirits, lost futures, and dirty money. VERY DIRTY MONEY!

The chaos has come into everything.

Even my own “crazy ghost” feels right at home, MY HOME, trailing me through the streets. I’ve even pointed him out to my child: “Look, there’s the ghost that won’t leave us alone.” Because his family part of THIS society told him that HE DESERVES and IS ALLOWED to mess around!

But in a world consumed by corruption and mess, who’s left to help?

Is this really the best we can do?

Some say, we THE NORMAL ONES, we need therapy to adjust to THEIR madness.

But shouldn’t we be asking how to rebuild a world where decency, order, and humanity matter again?

Where normal doesn’t feel like an impossible dream?

So, until things turn around, here’s my advice—keep praying, stay sane, and hold on hope and NORMAL good values until January 20, 2025.

Because let’s face it, if things don’t change soon, crazy might be all we’ve got left.


Happy Holidays, everyone! Stay normal—if you can afford it. 🎄