Baby, you're havin' a baby

So like, Viji is having a baby. My mind is all a-flurry with baby-proofing and Mozart and pop-up books. I also refuse to buy blue and pink. I shall settle for green. Or as The Googster calls it "Paki color!!". They should make coffee flavoured pre-natal vitamins.

God help me, I think we're watching Coolie # 1 with dinner tonight. Which, btw, is going to be the killer hummus I made yesterday for the Oscars.

Googs made Chief Resident. Isn't that super. Can't you just picture her zooming around the hospital being important brandishing Spaz (short for Spaztic, the yellow duck). It's a good thing she's brilliant. I don't think you can get away with waving a yellow duck around if you're not.

Silicon Graphics does make supercomputers

SGI's Altix 3000. Things that make you go hmmm.

New look

Comments?

Does Silicon Graphics make laptops?

Laptops in movies. Very very funny.

Buy your way into b-school

Because, you know, this is the best way to decide who gets in. Crap, I tell you. Such crap.

I used to be a Crisis Junkie. Damn, I miss those days.

Wot was the point of the Aby Baby album? Yes, Eer Bir Phatte is catchy but it makes no sense. Although it is fun when Amitabh Bachchan does the mad laugh.

Itna chess mat khela karo

I just saw Naach. Horribly bad movie and I agree with this review. Although I must confess a strange attraction for A. Bachchan jr. Eugh. I know. How else do you explain the maddening feeling of irritation when he doesn't shave? He went to BU you know.

On an off note, I think the official Dhoom site is very well made.

Things I would like to have

Sony Ericsson S710a

TaylorMade Miscela Clubs

Oakley Thump Eyewear

Suzuki GSX-R600

You know, my birthday is coming up *hint hint*.

Would you like me to wipe your arse for you as well or do you think you can manage?

So in the mandatory update for MSN messenger, Microsoft checks the 'make MSN my default search engine box'. And people have a problem with this. Oh please. Wot's the big deal?! So go in your settings and change it back. The problem is not with Microsoft. The problem is with all these mollycoddled stupid ignorant hateful users. In my opinion, they ought to be all lined up and shot.

Do you believe in what you see?

No internet connection yesterday. Yes, I know I could have used the Googster's pc in the study but it's not the same thing. Besides, spent most of yesterday immersed in gloom with a debilitating headache and terrible nausea. So I re-read Stephen King's Slade. Unpublished, I think. Very funny. Then I re-read Dean Koontz's Demon Seed *shudder*. Horrible book. Very well written I thought.

Here's an interesting and completely useless concept. Blogshares. Where you trade shares on blogs. Interestingly enough, I'm listed. That might explain the odd traffic from Belgium. I don't know anybody in Belgium. The ones I did know moved to London.

Speaking of which, no news of impending visit yet. I shall keep you posted.

Strangely, debilitating headache and t.n. is back today. Although not so bad. Shall tinker with template changes now.

I am Jack's deepening sense of despair.

Fight Club. WOT THE BLOODY HELL?!?!?!?!

I want my money back. Wot were they smoking when they made that movie!?!? I feel cheated. I wasn't expecting something so painful. Now I'm depressed.

Although, some things about that movie make perfect sense.

"This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time."

"At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves."

"For thousands of years, human beings had screwed up and trashed and crapped on this planet, and now history expected me to clean up after everyone. I have to wash out and flatten my soup cans. And account for every drop of used motor oil. And I have to foot the bill for nuclear waste and buried gasoline tanks and landfilled toxic sludge dumped a generation before I was born."

"You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile."

"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake."

"How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight?"

The acting was phenomenal. The screenplay was surprising fertile. The story is incredible. Pure shock-value. I need a drink.

Why does this movie remind me of late night conversations with the East Siders? Sitting around a dining table, drinking wine, smoking cigarettes, talking bull. Damn, I miss those days.

I had the strangest dream last night.

We had to leave the colony because of the monster. Why were we living in a 'colony'? Why did we not want to leave it? I have no clue. Just go with me here. It was very M. Night Shyamalan. So, we had to leave the colony and I was a man. Again, don't ask. And we had to make a large statue in honor of the monster who looked strangely like Jesus. Of course, I use the word 'monster' very loosely - he made us leave our homes and he was mean. I'm sure he was a nice chap deep down inside. So anyway, there was this man who was working on the statue and the monster pushed him off the ledge and he fell and cracked his skull and died and I was s'posed to take his place and there was this woman who was holding on to me and wouldn't let go (because she loved me, you see) and so I was debating whether or not to throw her off the ledge because if I didn't get her to let go of me I would either fall or the monster would push me down because he didn't like to be kept waiting and there was this very unnerving feeling that a deadline was looming.

Wonder wot it all means. I think it means I should stop watching Shyamalan movies. Although, I did see the interviews DVD at Blockbuster the other day. I remember all the hoopla it had caused when it first came out and frankly I don't see the point.

It's raining ducks. Who don't look very happy. Just floating about in the rain with their beaks tucked under. Aww. I should relieve them from their misery and bring them inside. Into the kitchen. Into the oven in the kitchen. With a side of rice and gravy. Mmm.

The NYU app is 'with committee'. I hate pacing outside a closed door waiting for the verdict. I've burned 6 pieces of toast. Resh says rub your hands together in glee. I say, no thank you. I'll create fire. That was my best app. I gave it all my efforts. Getting in to NYU will take the sting out of not getting into Kellogg. There is no life if there is no NYU. I may as well sit out a year. Pray I get into NYU. I simply MUST get into NYU.

My folks are now hyperventilating over the fact that I'm going to be staying with 'boys' on my trip to London. On which I am going all by myself. Because, you know, I'm a degenerate retard who, given the first opportunity, will start peddling drugs (or worse) on the streets of London.

Have you seen the old man
In the closed-down market
Kicking up the paper,
with his worn out shoes?
In his eyes you see no pride
And held loosely at his side
Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news

So how can you tell me you're lonely,
And say for you that the sun don't shine?
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

Have you seen the old girl
Who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.

In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old man is sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home alone

And have you seen the old man
Outside the seaman's mission
Memory fading with
The medal ribbons that he wears.
In our winter city,
The rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero
And a world that doesn't care

-- Ralph McTell

I'm going to go watch Fight Club now.

Wot's that you say? Don't eat cheese before bedtime?

People don't say Bo Selecta often enough.

I'm hungry for...

Grilled sausages with tomatoes.
Bombay Sapphire with tonic water and some lime.
Prawn pickle.
Bacon.
A salami sammich.
Chicken with peanuts.
Bombay Sapphire, vermouth and olives.
Champagne - in anything.
Honey bunches of oats with bananas.
Dry red wine.
Watermelon juice.
Fruit cocktail and a shawarma from Satwa.
Palak paneer and rotis.
Hot buttered toast with marmalade and Earl Grey with honey.
Flamin' hot Cheetos.
Cold orange juice.
Duchess potatoes.
Pepper steak.
Asparagus.
Green beans in a stir fry of any kind with any sort of meat.
A stir fry of any kind.
Meat of any kind.
Grapefruit with salt (but only if I have a serrated spoon).
Mango milkshake.
A fry-up.
Or maybe I'll just have Ramen noodles.

The aliens decided to kidnap Elvis because they felt sorry for us.

So like, I was thinking about AI again and it occurred to me just how depressing that movie really is. Son gets sick. Parents get a robot as a replacement. Make the robot love the mother. Abandon the robot in the woods when the son gets better. That scene in the woods was the most painful one I've seen. Would stab at the heart of anyone. Made me want to blubber like a baby. Then the humans go about mutilating mechas for their amusement. And David never finds happiness. That third part of the movie with the fulfillment of his dreams crap was just an excuse to show off some killer effects. The music was disappointing. The screenplay was disappointing. The only good thing about that movie were the fx. You would think Spielberg and Stanley Kubrick would do better.

It has made me want to dig out and put on my creative hat and combat this boredom in a more productive way.

I could do with a salami sammich. With mustard. Or grilled sausages with tomatoes. Oo. I could do me some sausages.

It's one of those days when I'd really like to kick someone's ass in a dark alley.

Did you know there are fish in the lake? There are. There's some odd chap in an ugly hat and shorts fishing in the lake. He catches something then he throws it back in. Wot's the bloody point?! If you're going to go fish for smelly fishes, you might as well keep them. Causing the fishes a whole lot of needless trauma. And now there's some stupid girl in a pink t-shirt with her stupid mother standing on the bank and throwing food at the ducks. Then they squeal and take three steps back when the ducks advance. Retards. Wot the hell is wrong with these people? Why are they in my backyard? Just because the sun is shining and the skies are a lovely shade of pale blue and the trees are swaying gently in the breeze does not give you people a reason to commune with nature. Nature does not want to commune with you. Nature wants you to bloody well leave it alone. If this was not the case, then the trees would bend towards your balcony and not the sun. Losers! Get out of my sight! I do not want to see some hick's pasty white legs first thing in the morning when I look out my window.

And to think, people think I have an underlying menancing tone. I don't know where they get that stuff. I think I'm a lovely person. Really.

I need to get more fun female friends. You can submit applications now.

Am I the only person in the whole world who doesn't care about the way she looks?! Wotever happened to 'I'm a fun person and I don't have to advertise my boobs to have men interested in me'?! This is why I say, women rock. Give me a chick over a chap anyday. Any bloody day. I'll be turning lesbian now, thank you.

Current mood: Annoyed
Soundtrack for this afternoon: Sona family and Josh. Thanks Resh.

R.I.P. Hunter S. Thompson

I'm very upset. The man wrote the best drug-induced prose ever. Now I'm going to have to unpack my books box and dig out Fear and Loathing. Thank you, Si and Ko.

The word 'band' in this context would be something of a misnomer

SL, I have created your cds and I shall hand them to you in person when I come to visit Milwaukee. There. Here's your mention.

However, if you cannot wait that long, it would behoove your cause to send me your mailing address.

That skirt makes you look like a geisha

So like, I was looking at pictures of my friend Appy's honeymoon in Mexico and she looks so lovely. Then I was looking at B's honeymoon pictures on that Caribbean cruise they went on and I got to thinking about Salad's honeymoon in Hawaii and Resh's honeymoon in Naples. And something occurred to me. All my friends are married. And then something else occurred to me. If I think back on all the men I've known, not one single one would have taken me on a Caribbean cruise. Or to Maldives. Or Bermuda. This is very disturbing.

On the upshot, I'm glad I didn't marry any of them. :)

Navigation systems exist for a reason

I simply cannot be in a relationship with a man when I have more balls than he does. It's not right. It screws with some cosmic rule. It doesn't make sense. It's just not cricket.

Current mood: Highly irritated to the point of nausea.
Songs to reflect mood: Rammstein - Feuer Frei and Drowning pool - Bodies (vrenna xXx mix)

P.S. In case you were wondering, all desi men lack cojones.

And in case you were wondering exactly how gutsy I am...



"Your test score reveals that you've got major cojones when the situation calls for it - but at other times you prefer to play it safe. Perhaps there are certain things you will do, despite the risk involved, because they are important to you or the possible pay off makes them worth it. Or maybe certain consequences of such chancy behavior just don't scare you - we all have different fears. Some people, for example, are terrified of spiders but wouldn't hesitate to fling their bodies out of an air-borne plane. Whatever your case, carefully weigh the possible benefits against the risks before you make any hasty decisions. "

How gutsy are you?

There's something about Magi

So like, I watched Raincoat today. Wonderfully depressing movie. Highly recommend it.

This man has a smile to die for

Yes, I'm a shameless groupie.

We all need to watch more Parveen Babi movies

Disturbed gnats

There's something wrong with the world today, don't know what it is.

Measure twice.. cut once

Snippets of today's conversation:

Paresh says:
sarika..
Wolfe says:
kidhar?
Paresh says:
tum ho
Wolfe says:
main hooooon.. khush rang henna
Wolfe says:
that was such a lame song
Paresh says:
but you remember it
Wolfe says:
yes.. isn't that unfortunate


Wolfe says:
did you move the code? won't work until you move the code.. you can float till you're blue in the face, but code simply must be moved... *have come unhinged because of drugs*.. *mad laffter*


Paresh says:
cross your fingers.
Wolfe says:
*throwing a ball across the room*
Paresh says:
that's the way you cross fingers..
Wolfe says:
*making obscene gesture with crossed figners*


Wolfe says:
hello? yes, you kicked my dog


Wolfe says:
you make me want to grow a goatee


Paresh says:
thankus..
Paresh says:
you are greatus
Wolfe says:
with no penus


Wolfe says:
i want to play cheesy anu malik music


Wolfe says:
you have a very nice goatee face
Paresh says:
ty
Wolfe says:
you know.. long and horse-like
Paresh says:
ek template kya change maar di.. kuch zyada phudak rahi ho


Paresh says:
officially.. you deserve a DR buck
Wolfe says:
oh please.. wot will that get me?
Paresh says:
the DR buck? hardly anything.. a DR hip flask maybe
Wolfe says:
listen.. stop being sharabi.. it's disturbing
Paresh says:
what? who says you have to have booze in there...just pepsi will do man
Wolfe says:
screw pepsi.. bring on the booze

Hey. Nobody said I had to be normal.

Ek glassi, do glassi...

*tossing pink and purple pills in the air and catching them in my mouth*

You know why Cranial man doesn't have a picture of him on his site? 'Cuz he looks like Madhubala *snigger*.

*digging for Sona Family songs*

We need to communicate more.

Screw that. Wotever your problem is, I'm sure you'll feel a lot better if you either a)had mad passionate monkey sex, or b)went to the gym and kick-boxed for an hour or three.

The right side of my face is fat. Fatter than usual, I mean. And my throat is starting to hurt. And my eyes are burning. I want my mommy. :(

She'll prolly just yell at me for getting sick.

So like, I was out running errands the other day in the big blue bus (yes, I drive a big blue bus, deal with it) and as I pulled into the complex, I had to stop at the duck crossing for, yes, you guessed it, the ducks to cross. It was funny. This one duck looked at my car, sniffed (I swear it sniffed at me) and then royally waddled across the street. I had to restrain from slamming on the gas and makin' me some duck pate with tire treads but they just looked so snooty. And then there was this cab that was coming the other way and the driver obviously wasn't up on his duck etiquette so he slowed down (reluctantly, I thought) and honked. And the duck just looked at him. And stopped. And stood there in the middle of the street just looking at him. As if to say, "honk at me, willya? Well you'll just have to wait now". And the other ducks tittered amongst themselves. As if to say, "stupid cabbies, they just don't get it". It was funny 'cuz the cabbie actually got annoyed.

Why the long useless duck story? Because I'm sick and I've been watching VH1 all day and my life is, in actuality, this boring.

On another note, I want to see Constantine only because Reeves is such a dish. And yes, I know he's gay. This guy writes well.

Wot a load of crap. It disturbs me that popular culture is getting stupider by the season. "The best reason for one woman to have sex with another woman is because she wants to" - by far THE most intelligent remark I've read on Slate.

And why all the commotion about women anyway? We all know most established institutions are conservative, elitist and sexist. Wot I want to know is why it's even being written about. Why aren't people covering more gallery openings and running more film festivals? And don't give me that "if we bring the issues to light, they will be addressed". Pleaze sista, it hiznasnt happened yet n its not `bout ta stizzay. Too much mollycoddling, that's wot the problem is. Of course we're the weaker sex. We run for the chocolate icecream everytime something goes wrong. You don't see chaps going on shopping sprees because they're depressed because they've broken a nail. Or having a bad day because some jerk cut them off in traffic. Let people cut you off is wot I say. The jerk will get his/her own. He'll be run into by another jerk who ran a red light. The world will be in balance no matter wot. Somewhere someone will suffer for someone making someone suffer. It's karma. You know how people have karma? Well there is one giant cosmic karma that ensures that balance is maintained. So stop yer whining and break a nail once in a while. It won't kill you. You'll get over the pain and the heartache. If not, I'm sure you'll find a support group. Or better yet, maybe Dr. Phil will write a book about it *gag*.

Do people read responses to comments? Maybe I'll put it here.

There are a lot of people in the world that you will come across who you will not remember tomorrow. You will not care about them. They will not give you time of day. When you find someone you can love unconditionally, it doesn't matter how strange they are. Life is good because of them. Hey Tamanna. How's it going?

Man down! I repeat, we have a man down!

The significance of wisdom teeth is not that you're getting older. Or that you're getting wiser. It just means that you're going to get a whole lot more mouth infections than you'd like (which, if you think about it, is upwards of 0).

I hate being in pain :(

I shall lie on the couch and have a good moan. Why is it that I can never find the Chai Time cd that I want when I want it? Grr.

I should get this song

Ok, for a minute I thought this was about Gary Tuma. Funny how dyslexia hits you when you least expect it.

It is bloody funny.

Speaking of Gary Tuma, where is he now? Last I heard he was bicycling through Europe. Has he made it to Romania yet?

Return of the mack

Resh, mere moze kahan hai?!

Coins make me want to wash my hands

I just paid the cashier at the grocery store my bill of $19.72 in coins. Tee hee.

It's all his fault, the chap at FedEx. He was so nice to me. Said it would be fine if I paid $35.06 in coins. Heck, it's Thursday afternoon. Business is slow.

Because, you know, the damn banks won't change my change. Apparently you can't walk into a bank and demand your metal to be changed into paper unless 'you have an account there'. Daft bastards. Isn't that wot banks do? Deal in money?

Here's a tip - when going to get passport pictures taken at Walgreens to be sent to embassies, don't wear pink. The hideous fluorescent lighting combined with no flash on the eentsy camera they use makes you look magnificiently ugly. Trust me on this one. And we all know that if you look like a convict in your passport pictures, the embassy is going to ask you a whole lotta unnecessary questions. Like the airport security people do. "Are you carrying any weapons?" Yes. I am. I have a hot kalashnikov in my purse. !!! If I was carrying any weapons that I intended to do harm with, I'd hardly declare them at security, now would I?

It's like that chap who walks by you in the parking lot trying to jimmy the lock of your car door with a hanger and asks "did you lock yourself out?". No. I've just washed my car and now I'm hanging it up to dry. Here's your sign.

The taxman cometh

Every year around this time I get frantic. Because I have to file my tax returns and I start panicking about deductions. Last year it was medical expenses and this year it's claiming the Googster as a dependant. I am SO going to get audited. And while filing last year I made it a point to keep my documents and records in a "very safe place" for reference for this year. Now if I could only remember where.

Soundtrack for tax return prep and filing: Zero 7's 'When it falls' album. Played 'In the Waiting Line' about 18 times.

So like I was thinking maybe I'll spend a day/night in London. Tickets cost about the same as a no-stop trip and I'll get to see Beans. That would be nice. Should I? Could I? Hmm.

The problem with being in my situation is that one always has to think twice about making travel plans in case the guilt comes back to slap me in the face later. But as Dad says, "If you're not CEO by the time you're 35, you've missed the bus". Yes, I know this has nothing to do with current decision to stay over in London. I suppose it was another 'Russian Roulette with Knives' moment (cue Con doing Bluto with large moustaches).

Tea and toast and toast and tea

Why is it that everybody thinks that if you're not in Milwaukee, you must be in a different time zone? I'm still CST people!

Give me hot buttered toast with marmalade (or apricot jam) and tea with honey and I'm in bliss. I could die happy.

Googs is going to come home and find me in the same pajamas, sitting in the same position on the same couch and wonder if I've moved at all. Little does she know I've put away the laundry, done the dishes, made the bed, read two mags, looked over my tax documents, de-spywared her pc, performed Swedish deep-breathing exercises, found my passport (which wasn't easy, seeing as I have a tendency to put things away in 'safe places' and then forget wot the safe place is) and researched airline ticket prices. Hah. And I have two pairs of the same pajamas.

Gray mottled sky

It's days like this I wish I had a digital camera. The sky is very pretty here in LR.

And you people need to calm down. Stop calling me up in the middle of the night and sending me emails with lots of question marks. I will try and meet/speak with you before I leave. Which is going to be between 2-4 weeks. I have to go stare at my closet now and start packing my bags. Egh. I hate packing. More later.

Sometimes a girl just needs a drink

I can't decide if I'm a Bombay Bellini or A Goodnight Kiss. Which one are you?

Red is a lovely color

One of my favourites actually. The other one being black. Sometimes gray is nice. The kind of gray that says 'I can make up my mind, I just choose not to'.

Wot is nicer than plain ol' red is fire hydrant red. Or should that be Firehydrant-red. I used to know him. He kissed my shoe once. Wonder how Photographer Polikowski is these days. Did he ever find his Starbucks girl?

We have a shoe rack for a reason

So like, the Googster (bless her heart) has this habit of leaving her shoes lying around the place. All the time. Everywhere. In the living room. In the bathroom. In the bedroom. In the kitchen. If you sit on the couch and stretch your legs out under the coffee table, you will stub your toes on a pair of shoes. If you sneak into the bedroom at 5 am to get to bed, you will trip over shoes. When you get up from your favourite hotspot in the living room after a long day of work you will find that there are a pair of shoes waiting for you to stumble over. I swear it's like she follows me around planting shoes in my wake so the minute I turn around there's something else to trip over. And they're never strappy sandals either. Always the big chunky ones that actually hurt your toes when you kick them. I'm going to hide every pair of shoes I find that are where they shouldn't be. That'll teach her. Hah. I'm going to build shelves in the balcony for this purpose. Everytime I have to put something away, I'll just put it away in the balcony and wait for her to notice. Just my luck, she won't notice and the suspense will eat away at me slowly until one day I lose it and set fire to the magician table with the red tablecloth.

Hello D'mello

Fun maps.

Do you ever get the feeling that life is passing you by? Of course you do. That's the reason bookstores have self-help sections. The odd thing about reconnecting with old friends is that one seldom can. Old friends, when they're not an integral part of your life anymore, become friends-I-once-used-to-have. That is not to say that if I was lying bleeding in a ditch somewhere, they wouldn't call for the paramedics. I'm sure they would. My friends love me. Don't they? Ok, so some more than others. But this is wot I hate about moving. You leave your friends behind.

And then it's all over. Things will never be the same again. Nobody's going to knock on your door at 3 am with a bottle of wine to toast a deal gone through. Or drag your ass out of bed at midnight to go for a drive because the season's first snow has just fallen and it's luminescent and pretty and so gosh-darn romantic. Or invite you over for dinner with carrot soup and toasted bread because they somehow sensed that you didn't want to eat alone.

And you'll never find another just like them. Breaks my heart it does.

If I was a rich man...

Well, we all know wot I'm going to be doing once I get back to Dubai.

Fiddler on the roof. Every time I hear the soundtrack or watch this movie, I have visions of Bhai sitting on the couch singing 'Tradition!' on the top of his lungs. Very funny.

Artificial Intelligence. A little too many cheesy dialogues but the production of that movie is bloody impressive. However, the soundtrack leaves a lot to be desired. For example, the scene where the robots of the future fly in to find David in the amphibicopter. Plenty of potential for that scene. Also the one where Gigolo Joe (yum yum) and David and the others in the car drive up to Rouge City. But I suppose you don't want to distract from the photography and direction. Still.

My DVD burner software sucks. I need to get a better one.

I'm scintillating today, arn't I. Oh well.

Spoke to the Bee today. So very much want to spend a week in Chicago before I go back to Dubai. Shall look up ticket prices now.

Champagne Killa!

Gizoogle. Now this is just pure genius.

The Truth about Cats and Dogs was written by a woman

The sun is shining. The ducks are silent. It's a lovely afternoon. One of those afternoons that, coupled with aforementioned warm and fuzzy feelings, makes you want to cuddle up on the couch with the one thing that makes life worth living. Sigh. I miss my jaan.

I want to see Raincoat. Heard some good things about it. Haven't even looked at the BU app. This thing is going to turn around and bite me in the bum, I just know it.

In other news, I was looking over baby pictures after lunch. (Yes, we did have chicken. Palak chicken to be precise. With rotis. Which were rubbery. Oh well.) And my friend Naaz's kid Zain is the cutest baby I've seen in a while. And coming from me, that's something. Because, as everybody who knows me knows this about me, I'm not so keen on babies. Children in general actually. Kids cry when I'm around. I was once told I emit evil vibes by this indignant mother who's snot-nosed offspring started crying after I glared at it (yes, that's right, I said 'it'). In my defence, the damn thing was kicking me in the shins. I'm glad I emit evil vibes. There are two kinds of people in the world. Baby people and non-baby people. My gin-soaked, chain-smokin', cussin' and yellin' ass definitely falls in the latter category. It took me all these years to cultivate this evil vibe emission and I'm not going to give up on all my hard work. No, I'm going to nurture it and make it stronger. Maybe then children will simply sense me from afar and take a detour. Works for me.

Back to the couch. Although I wish I was in Milwaukee. That way, I could take my laptop and go sit in Rochambo's cafe and work there.

Soundtrack for lunch preparation - the Genius Loves Company album. Ray Charles rocks!

I hope you like your Sega, Sam

It's lovely to hear from mates one hasn't heard from in a while. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

We're having chicken for lunch

Good morning all you fine folks out there who would rather be surfing than working. 'Tis a crisp sunny morning here in Little Rock and I absolutely refuse to leave the house.

Oh, it may look innocent enough but there are people out there. Being all pink and Valentine-like. I just know someone is going to tell me to have a nice day and I'll go psycho on their ass. And yes, the reason I'm pissy is because I haven't got a single flipping pink Val card. I know it's cheesy and a complete waste of time but flowers would be nice. Wot is the point of having so many male friends if they can't even be expected to send you flowers?

Can you tell I'm not a morning person?

The lake is getting muddier. No, wait. It's green. That can't be mud. Fungus? And before you say reflection, let me tell you that the middle of the lake is green too. Hah, smarty pants. The trees ain't that tall.

We have too many dining table chairs. Or dining chairs. Chairs for the dining table. You know wot I mean.

Plan for today - revise and submit BU application, clean immediate environment, finish at least 3 more mags and manage to stay in a good mood. Nobody said I wasn't ambitious.

More later.

P.S. Happy V day, Nooches. Now get back to work before the boss catches you wasting your time. I'm pretty sure you can't explain being on this website as 'research'.

Daywalkers and leather - an obvious combination

Do you ever feel like you need to get OnStar? Not only just if you have a Honda. Or even a car. Just in case of, you know, life. They should make cool wristbands with an OnStar direct link. Now I feel inadequately equipped for life.

So I'm watching Blade II for the upteenth time (hey, it's either that or Blue Collar Rides Again, which I've already seen :) ) and Wesley Snipes must be in killer shape for those movies. It can't be easy to kick so high wearing that much leather.

The worst part about applying for B-school is the waiting. Not the research. Not the studying. Not the essays. The waiting. Waiting to see if you're business savvy enought to get into school to study business. And in case you're wondering, I didn't write any cancer stories. That's right. I didn't bull about saving drowning orphan children from a burning Red Cross boat that was whisking them away from civil war. I'm actually conceited enought to believe that my meagre professional experience will render me worthy enough to cough up $100k for the cover charge for the VIP room. I wonder if they have any specials on Stoli.

On an off note, why is it that one will spend all their leisure time with another person, cook with them, share ambitions with them, sit up late nights lying in bed and laugh with them, but will never consider dating them. Because you do realise that after the initial rush of hormones has subsided, the only relationships that are worth investing into are the ones between true friends (whaddyaknow, she DOES have a heart). Then it would seem to me that the one you're looking for has been under your nose all this while. So next time you see your pal, dip him/her and slap on a big fat kiss. The worst thing that could happen is that you'll get slapped. Either way, at least you'll have stirred things up. And that can't be bad.

I've had 8 peanut M&Ms, 5 chocolate chip cookies and a Coke and am running solely on a sugar high. Don't listen to a word I say. I can't be trusted. After my metabolism kicks in all this energy will drag me back to the couch and to Blade. And yes, part I was better than part II but Trinity rocked. I would very much like to get my hands on Jessica Biel's iPod playlist. Wot does one listen to when hunting hybrid vampires?

In my case, soundtrack for this lazy Sunday has been -
Amr Diab - Lyle Nhary
BoneyM - Daddy Cool
Cirque du Soleil - Alegria
Darine - Aiwa
Rachid Taha - Ach Adani
Swami - Hai Meh Marjahn

And I close the day with this quote from Blade II - "What's all this? You tryin' to stink me to death, old man?"

People need to say "You do not know who you are fooling with!" in movies more often. Very retro.

Gasp!

I've just had my very first comment.

Life is so bleary that I'm positively excited.

I shall deal with these hideous colors later.

"To die with ducks is to suffer a sad and smelly death." - Delicate Red Flower

So like, here we are, eh?

It's cold outside. It's cold inside too. It's one of those days when the central heating just can't get its act together.

Insightful comment of the day - "We are heading for exciting times. Will 2005 be 'the year of wireless?'" No. Of course not. It's only the one thing that the entire communications industry has been working towards since 2002.

I think I'm getting bitter and cynical.

So, I have decided to do one non-cynical/bitter thing every day. Today I surfed for Valentine e-cards. If I have to see one more pink card of teddy bears hugging each other, I will violently vomit on my new laptop. And wot is with the music?! Who gives these people permission to litter the Internet with mindless junk?! Er. This is a blog. Right. Nevermind.

Hey. At least I tried.

I used to think that blogs are a sheer and utter waste of time and bandwidth. I still do. But hey, it's better than staring at the ducks all day. And I have to say, the prospect of editing HTML does excite me a little.

Let me tell you about these ducks. So like, our flat overlooks this lake-type thing, right? And in this supposed lake, there are ducks. And they're noisy birds. More so in the summer but sometimes you can hear them peep in the winter. And most days when I don't have much to do, I sit here, in the living room, surrounded by my geek mags, cooking up ways to rid the community of these birds. Here's the best one I've come up with so far - break up little alka seltzer tablets, sneak down in the dead of the night (obviously wearing a black turtleneck and a ski mask), feed said tablets to birds, sneak back into bed and wait for the fun to start. The day progresses. They drink water. The tablets start to fizz inside their bellies. Eventually, the gas pressure increases to such an extent that they explode. Boom. Duck sauce. This is all based on the assumption that ducks can't burp. (Someone told me that once and it stuck. Of course, I couldn't be bothered to actually look it up to validate this. Still there it is.) I think it's a lovely idea.