I was watching some tv show or movie whose title I obviously cannot recall. It was one of those soppy scenes where said spouse had died/left for someone better and the sad sack of shit left to pick up the mess lamented about how even the bad fights he or she now missed. "I would give anything to have him scream at me about my yeast infection" or "If I could have her back I will never again lose my temper about her giving me grief about my Panama hat" or other such stupid statements. Hollywood has turned your brain to mush. If that person miraculously returned I give it 2 weeks and you both will having the same fights all over again. The correct response to the loss of someone is "I really miss her, but on the bright side, I don't have to smell those armpits anymore. And did she use shit for toothpaste?".
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Did you know turkeys are bisexual?

"A wedding is a funeral where you smell your own flowers." ~ Eddie Cantor


Frieda y Diego Rivera by Frida Kahlo

It has been rather interesting the past few weeks.

Living with someone is a revelation. I don't know how people do it. The toothpaste is not squeezed right. The underwear that you used to just remove you now have to wash. Suddenly your tuna and pasta meals are no longer deemed healthy. And apparently the wardrobe is drab all of a sudden (okay let's face it I dress like a homo... i mean hobo most of the time). On the plus side, my level of hygiene has improved dramatically. Oh, and I feel so emotionally fulfilled and am brimming with love (She is standing behind me with the kitchen knife). I don't need to tell you wise reader that relationships are hard work. I mean yeah you have the occasional moment in a day where you look at that person and think you made the right decision. But most of the time you feel like killing yourself and/or the other person. Case in point. I was at the supermarket with Jenny that day and she lingered a little too long in the poisons section that I would have liked while she scanned the labels for concentration and toxicity. We don't eat together now and I keep my groceries locked away.

But Jenny's really, really great. Never been happier (still behind me with the knife). And the secret to a successful relationship is assfection and assfirmation. Hahahahahaha.
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Have been helping my friend rehabilitate his ankle and gave him some strengthening exercises to do. He asked how it would help and I explained to him its not really different from a vagina. It starts out really tight and robust but with wear it becomes loose. But one can minimise the effects of sprains by strengthening muscles around the area to compensate for the looseness.
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Managed to cut my nose in a very stupid accident. The kind of stupid accidents only men ever have. Scarred for life. There goes my rice bowl, my modelling career. To any random reader who has never met me, I am grotesquely overweight and masturbate furiously to images of very old people.
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Okay that's it. Have fun my furry friends. Go forth and traumatise.

“Women marry men hoping they will change. Men marry women hoping they will not. So each is inevitably disappointed.” ~ Albert Einstein



Old man in sorrow on the threshold of eternity by Van Gogh

Some time ago I had what I thought was a brilliant idea of making a video, one that would be played at my funeral. I thought it would be a good way for people to remember me. Well, a younger version of me before bitch tits. Then I read this article someone had posted about a young soldier who wrote his parents a letter, one they would only read if he was killed in action. Obviously if I am writing this, he did die and the letter did get sent and later, published. It was quite bloody depressing to read, more so because he seemed like a really nice person and he was dropping F-bombs all over the place in his letters. So perhaps no funny video.

Watched the latest episode of How I met your Mother. That was pretty depressing, any lesser man would have cried. Thankfully I am plenty manly. Oh dear, is that a broken nail? I am going to have a bitch fit.

"According to most studies, people's number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death.
Death is number two! Does that sound right? This means to the average person, if you go to a funeral, you're better off in the casket than doing the eulogy." ~ Jerry Seinfeld.


Crows in the wheatfield by Van Gogh.

Am in the midst of doing some administrative stuff for school. So naturally I found something more interesting to do first. It was either this or cleaning the toilet (again), so writing it is. In the famous words of Thomas Edison, procrastinate now. Or was it Darwin who said 'procreate now'?? Maybe it was... What was I thinking about again? Hey its really sunny outside, I should have a picnic with Kratos the unicorn...

Oh yes, writing. I was just thinking back to my childhood. Sure, I liked toys. I believed sugar was the greatest thing and that girls were yucky (now that I am old and wise I know them to just be evil, more on that later). Except I never believed in Santa, nor was I led to. I am not sure Singaporean kids were given that illusion in general by their parents. But mine certainly did not. We went to christmas parties and got christmas presents. But there was no bullshit. My dad would just go, 'Come here. Your present. Don't be rude. Say thank you. Stop crying. Go to your mother'. Anyway, I did actually have neighbours who DID believe in Santa, and they would tell me they wrote to Santa every December and in turn the bearded child molester (face it, he was!!! 'Elves'??? really??) would send them the biggest bloody transformer robots. And you know what? Those horrible neighbours refused, REFUSED to give me his address!!! To this day I sulk when I think about it. Its not that I believed he existed, but I did want to write to this wonderful place and score some freebies. My parents were really good that way. They never cooed and coddled, just told it like it was.

I have to rant about facebook again. I have been seeing all these posts complaining about people but not addressing anyone in particular that go something like 'do you honestly think it is very nice to (insert grievance here)' or 'somebody really needs to learn to (insert social skill here)'. I mean seriously fuck off man, just grow a pair and tell the person you are not happy, or don't grow a pair and shut the fuck up you bunch of attention-seeking, whiny people. In no way am I insinuating that women almost entirely populate this group, of course.

I mean be funny or clever about it. Take this link as an example: http://www.statuscrap.com/. Say something like 'the heart wants what it wants, and right now my heart wants to bone you' or something like that. Of course, it would appear that maybe I have a problem in having such a large problem with this and should speak with a therapist, but I am too cheap and therefore I will monologue here.

And of course the lovey-dovey updates. I think I might have done it once or twice in my life, and I still live with mental stain I will never wash away. But seriously. I mean to see TWO updates from the same couple within seconds of each other. I am happy for all of you out there who are happy together. The Good Lord only knows how difficult it is to find a suitable mate, and how infinitely more difficult it is keeping that person happy. So if the stars have aligned and said people find each other and enter into happy relationships, Great. Motherfucking jollification!!! Perhaps, and I could be wrong, people might actually find them less annoying if you did not update something every fucking 5 minutes. You miss your whats-that-face? Call or SMS! And you know what annoys me as much as those bloody updates? The fucking comments!!! 'awwww.....', 'lol' (really?), 'hugz babe' and all this shit.

Anyway, I should stop before I have an aneurism. And its really funny how I type like I am interacting with someone when no one reads this shit.

Well screw you nobody, I like my autism.

"He who loves 50 people has 50 woes; he who loves no one has no woes." ~ Buddha


Angry Red Women by Brandi Elkin.

The birthday came and went with little drama. Housemates cooked a nice dinner and some nice friends bought me meals too. Thank you all, good food (and drink) is the only real luxury we have left in this world. I really admire those people who still get excited about birthdays, there is something innocent (annoying) about it. I sat there swirling my drink and took stock of the past year and the things I have learnt along the way with my latest imaginary friend, Sigfried the homosexual fruit bat.

As I sat there and pondered (which takes very long when you have ADD, more on that later), a segment of Wordsworth's poem on the eve of the French Revolution came to mind "...bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven...". Okay, first of all, I read the whole poem once and I cannot for the life of me recall it in its entirety. I miss being young. Sure, the temper was worse and the insults downright mean, but the amazing rate one could recover from vigorous activities or heavy drinking is something to behold.

Where was I? Right, reflection. So I sat there and thought about the people I know and marveled at the ones who bear great enthusiasm in celebrating their birthdays. And then I thought about other things that annoy me and really the one thing that bothers me endlessly is facebook. Don't get me wrong, I like the birthday reminders, I like seeing pictures of my friends' newborn kids, I like the clever articles and hilarious videos. What I hate is the reality TV-type advertising of every stupid, fucking mundane activity every single day. So and so checked in here, so and so got an 'I love you' SMS from whoever. Look, I am not saying your life must be perpetually exciting, I am not saying don't tell the person you love you him or her or it. I actually was about to start a daily update of the colour, texture and smell of my shits just to piss these people off until I realised I have a few aunties on my friend list. I am simply saying, make it count. You got married, you finished 10 Big Macs in one sitting, you climbed Everest, you invented something that makes the iPhone look like a pager, you know what fuck it even telling everyone a restaurant sucks would be permissible. But not some shit like 'my baby got me flowers' or 'I feel so loved'. Even Sigfried the homosexual fruit bat does not approve. If you are sad, CALL A FRIEND AND TALK!!!

Well anyway, that just made me realise what an old fart I have become, living in the past. I hate the stupid status updates, I hate how social media has turned human interaction to mush. But I suppose its not all bad. So many people from generations past have come forward and spoke of depression they never dealt with because it was important to be tough, take it on the chin, be stoic. So perhaps this is the way to go. So I thought. Then I thought back to that stupid NS boy who had his maid carry his backpack and I realised no, we have become truly pathetic. And the ADD thing is truly terrible. It was cold comfort to find out I was not alone in this world, you can talk to someone for hours and only remember key things like the food was really spicy and the girl eating the hot wings had really big boobs. Probably the most annoying thing is spending as long as half an hour on one page as you drift off and think about what to have for dinner or the number of chili flakes in your stool.

Anyway, those friends of mine who actually still bother reading this who have those status updates, you guys are the best!

"Age is a very high price to pay for maturity." ~ Anonymous


Rock Arch West of Etretat by Monet

have been attending church somewhat regularly. my mum gave me shit for the one sunday i missed and i told her i had been going the weeks preceding that. she asked if i would skip eating today if i had eaten yesterday. my response was that i would still eat, but grace is limitless. i got a hypothetical slap. still she is happy that i am attending but i told her there was no feeling of being moved in the spirit. i told her i was none too pleased about the fact that i still do no have the ability strike people or objects down with lightning. isn't that what church is for?

have been attending yoga classes this semester. i am pleased to announce that not only are the yoga instructor and attendees mostly attractive, i am the only male! it is terribly fun for the eyes, but terrible for someone who scores zero on the flexibility index.

nothing much else has been happening so...

be well my lumpy friends.

"I believe in God, I just don't trust anyone who works for him" ~ Anonymous


Yoga Art by Katrina Smith

My head...

Last night's costume party was okay, at least that was what I recall. Patron tequila is not my friend. Well not the day after anyway.

Life is full of useful lessons. I think the lesson of the day is not to go to church with a hangover. Everything annoyed me. EVERYTHING. I was annoyed by the sermon, I had no idea what he was trying to get at, but he was getting on my nerves. I was annoyed when he mentioned his wife's pregnancy (which I am sincerely happy for them about) and the ensuing collective 'awwwws' and tearing by the women in the congregation. A true estrogen party if there ever was one. But all that pales in comparison to the phantom pang pui menace. It was truly horrible. Sitting there with the head throbbing and spinning at the same time, with intermittent stinkers being released like every 5 minutes. I hope the person gets ass pimples...

Okay, have a good week ahead, must go cycle off the Patron...

"In the practice of tolerance, one's enemy is the best teacher." ~ Dalai Lama


Taken from blog of the same name, joke is from there too.

P.S: What did the sanitary pad say to the fart?
A: You're the wind beneath my wings.

not too long ago i decided to embark on a journey of increasing self-awareness. it is a journey that is still ongoing and frankly a little harrowing at times. i have taken with me on this journey a book, some scotch and as open a mind as i possibly could muster.

the discovery thus far has been sobering, to say the least. the first mistake on this journey was assuming this journey of self-discovery would lead to some form of enlightenment. that was a little simple of thought and highly erroneous. the second mistake was to assume that from that enlightenment would spawn some magical self-improvement that would set things right in my universe. instead what lay within was like opening Pandora's box and what lay within left me rather discouraged. so my mind was not as open as i suppose it should have been.

the very principle of increasing self-awareness requires a certain focus on, well, self. and stupid as it may sound that is exactly the truths that i found within. i had this mistaken perception that i do things for people out of compassion. while i would say that is not entirely true, its not entirely farcical either. a finer examination of past experiences mentally and through chats with my imaginary friend Flotsam led me to see that a lot of these reasons were selfish, tagged with expectations. and when these expectations were not met, anger ensued.

now the goal is to move towards removing self and with it hopefully anger, do the best job of it possible, and eventually some form of acceptance and peace of mind. its a cyclical thing.

be well my flea-infested friends.


Involution

"Meekness in itself is nothing else than a TRUE KNOWING and feeling of a man's self as he is. Any man who truly sees and feels himself as he is must surely be meek indeed." ~ The Cloud of Unknowing.

"Too much curry brings a thunderous fart,
Ring of fire as I sit and ponder,
How do I solve the riddle of the heart?
The answer, like relief to my burning anus, seemingly lies hidden over yonder."

~ Me

"...Looked at but cannot be seen
...listened to but cannot be heard
...grasped but cannot be touched
...Not by its rising is there light,
Not by its sinking is there darkness,
Unceasing, continuous,
It cannot be defined"

~ Lao Tzu, on pondering quality


Blast Art Print by Ruth Palmer.

"See, the human mind is kind of like... a piñata. When it breaks open, there's a lot of surprises inside. Once you get the piñata perspective, you see that losing your mind can be a peak experience." ~ Jane Wagner