A phone call can do wonders to one's perspective on the world. Today I found that in addition to the very obvious and blatant fact that irritants often clump together like some sticky fungus, life takes a particularly cruel pleasure in taking apart the best laid plans.
To put it simply, the game of life is rigged.
To break down.
On you.
Everyday.
It's like playing blackjack with Superman. Like playing tag with Spiderman. You can't win. Not now, not ever. You'd have better luck nailing jelly to the ceiling. With a plastic fork.
Murphy's Law hit pretty close to home, I'd gather. Murphy was probably a genious centuries ahead of his time. Eons in the future, when the world is but a burnt and crispy husk, devoid of all life, higher beings, maybe crystal intelligences or Spartans, will come across the planet formerly known as Earth and say "Hrm."
"Hrm, this Murhpy was brilliant" or maybe "This... is... BRILLIANT!!!"
Forget Einstein, Newton, Mozart, Ford, Chaplin, Hitchcock, Tolkkein, Gates, Washington, Bell or any other would-be pretender to the throne of He-Who-Got-It-Right.
Murphy was right.
Life sucks.
Still, we deal with it. Life is what we do. It's the longest thing we do. It's the only thing we do, to the jackassed morons who preach that "Life is short". As much as anyone hates life, there is nothing we can do to change this fundamental sucktitude of what we call an existence, except for ending it.
No, I'm not advocating suicide or mass homocidal genocide. I am merely stating the obvious, something I have been told I do eloquently, fluently and frequently. I hate sushi, Harry Potter, nuts and crowds. I abhore durians, Justin Timberlake, shoes with too many holes in them and the absence of any semblance of common sense. I cannot stand Macy Gray, whiners, carrots and Fox News. Bill O' Reilly should be up there with Saddam Hussein and Hitler. Miso soup needs to be banned by the UN. Aged aunties who act like queens of the world need to be put down.
Put down a flight of stairs.
Alas, my audience is probably wondering to themselves why this writer has joined the emo bandwagon. I hate emo kids. I have also found that I have developed a particular distaste for those who impose their bigoted, narrow-minded opinions on those of broader perspectives.
Add to the list those who speak for the sake of speaking, argue for the sake of arguing. Those sad spastic retards who can just shiver in ejaculatory glee from the sound of their voice, with comments like "I used to be an actress" or "Coaxial cables are actually..." and those who believe, with a passion that is almost holy, that "I don't believe you" is a valid counter-argument in a scientific debate.
The list is long, and by writing thise I've discovered a strangely cathartic effect of putting your hates in writing, immortalising them in blog-form. Of course, I expect this effect to be as short-lived as the time it takes me to click "Publish" and re-read it for typos. Which I also hate.
Life is a bitch, so we bitch about life.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Quotable Quotes
Since there really isn't anything to write about except how busy, broke and buggered I am, I'll share some interesting snippets of conversation I've had recently. For the sake of mystery, the initials used may or may not be accurate...
Naz: And relax, draft due monday, not tmrw.
G: OMG YAY! Thank God I asked!
Naz: You're welcome.
H: Look, my shoes are SO FUCKING SOAKED!
Naz: You know what the moral of the story is?
J: Huh?
Naz: Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
J: What?!?
Naz: ...Or the chicks will all drown.
J: How do you know? Have you tried?
Naz: Yes.
J: ... Point taken.
S: X and Y are soooooo problematic!
Naz: I've found that whenever I come online and she doesn't say hello first, they're having a few issues. She hasn't said hello the entire week.
O: I should be studying. Roar.
Naz: Meowr.
I used to be an actress.
Naz: Hey babe, what time are you going to be done?
Naz: err... oops.
F: HAHAHA! It's ok! Babe's right, but not for you.
Doctor, doctor, my belly button got hole!
Japanese officials say the 1.6m litres of radioactive waste that leaked into the ocean will not cause any harm to the environment.
N: You're a murderer.
Naz: Me? Why? I haven't done anything.
N: Not yet.
S: You are a sociopath.
Naz: Beats being called a murderer.
W: K, it's ok. Everyone else might think you are some perverted, no-life, retarded loser, but to us, you're our hero.
K: Thanks ah.
KT: CAN YOU STOP SAYING I HAVE SEVEN CARS?!?!?
Naz: But you do.
KT: NO I DO NOT!!!
Naz: ...OK, five?
KT: (mumbles something incoherant)
Naz: Right.
C: So these companies can make more money.
H: But they are already making alot of money, you know.
Naz: Then they can make more alot of money.
G: OMG YAY! Thank God I asked!
Naz: You're welcome.
H: Look, my shoes are SO FUCKING SOAKED!
Naz: You know what the moral of the story is?
J: Huh?
Naz: Don't put all your eggs in one basket.
J: What?!?
Naz: ...Or the chicks will all drown.
J: How do you know? Have you tried?
Naz: Yes.
J: ... Point taken.
S: X and Y are soooooo problematic!
Naz: I've found that whenever I come online and she doesn't say hello first, they're having a few issues. She hasn't said hello the entire week.
O: I should be studying. Roar.
Naz: Meowr.
I used to be an actress.
Naz: Hey babe, what time are you going to be done?
Naz: err... oops.
F: HAHAHA! It's ok! Babe's right, but not for you.
Doctor, doctor, my belly button got hole!
Japanese officials say the 1.6m litres of radioactive waste that leaked into the ocean will not cause any harm to the environment.
N: You're a murderer.
Naz: Me? Why? I haven't done anything.
N: Not yet.
S: You are a sociopath.
Naz: Beats being called a murderer.
W: K, it's ok. Everyone else might think you are some perverted, no-life, retarded loser, but to us, you're our hero.
K: Thanks ah.
KT: CAN YOU STOP SAYING I HAVE SEVEN CARS?!?!?
Naz: But you do.
KT: NO I DO NOT!!!
Naz: ...OK, five?
KT: (mumbles something incoherant)
Naz: Right.
C: So these companies can make more money.
H: But they are already making alot of money, you know.
Naz: Then they can make more alot of money.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Mars & Venus
Many of us have seen how a peacock struts around during mating season, or how frogs croak and hippos attempt to gore each other with oversized mandibles. We all know what they are aiming for; a mate. Are we any different? Some people might think humans are above such predictable behaviour, but on closer inspection, one might be able to see why modern Man has always been classed as an animal. There are several different beliefs that both the male and female human employ, although there are a few ideals and scripts common between the two sides.
Nearly every relationship starts off with a first date. It is the primary concern of a multitude of adolescents and young adults all around the world. A simple meeting of two individuals for a meal or movie can turn out to be the most stressful event in a youngster’s hormone-charged life. The first date can quite often be the first instance where the contrast between male and females is observed. Females quite often spend hours fretting over every miniscule detail of their appearance, from the fall of their hair to the hue of their shoulders in any particular light before their first official “date” with a boy they like. Men, on the other hand, are quite often nonchalant, perhaps buying flowers on the way to picking the girl up from her place of residence. Prior to the event, it is also widely expected for the male to be the one initiating the date, with many fawning damsels being left heartbroken due to the ignorance of this “simple law” that so many males apparently fail to comprehend.
As a relationship progresses, more examples of the differences in how males and females are supposed to act appear. One has known many males who avoid any serious commitments for fear of burning a hole in their wallet. Similarly, several female acquaintances are more than happy to be part of a relationship for the financial arrangements that society expects out of the typical boy-girl relationship. Like a male bowerbird, the boys and men in most relationships are expected to bestow their significant others with gifts and presents, though twigs and berries rarely impress the average lady in this day and age. The afore-mentioned “law” that the male should be the one deciding what to do, where to do it and when to do it is also carried over to the latter stages of a relationship, and many females in this day and age who still subscribe to this school of thought find themselves feeling rather chagrined when the males (again) fail to live up to these expectations.
These differences in beliefs and the seemingly universal acceptance of these practices have been challenged in recent times, however. An increasing number of females have begun “taking charge” of relationships. Be it making the “first move” on a guy or deciding to watch Music & Lyrics over Spiderman, the traditional perception of a passive female in the process of human courtship is being, if it has not already been, overturned. Conversely, many men in this day and age are more than willing to accept a partner that takes charge of a relationship, without feeling that their masculinity is being challenged in any way. Even when the female half of a relationship does not appear to starting to “take over”, many relationships see the norms of old being absolved; couples regularly “go Dutch” instead of having the male collect the bill, or compromise being the common outcome in many situations that may have been decided by the males in years gone by.
It can also be said that males and females usually go into relationships with contrasting long-term goals and expectations. Male animals usually aim to copulate with as many females as possible, and this may correlate to the general consensus that many men go into relationships with almost no plans for long-term commitment. Females, on the other hand, habitually look to find the best mate possible and sticking to him, hence the general trend of women wanting to settle down with a man, something that so profoundly terrifies a male’s understanding of courtship. One remembers an instance whereby a male friend had been seeing a girl for a number of weeks before being introduced to her close friends. Upon this meeting, the first question presented to the astounded youth was “When are you going to marry her?” Such tales are not all that rare, and simply provide poignant examples of the differences in the expectations that males and females have going into relationships, even at a young age. An often-repeated tale of two friends meeting outside a fancy restaurant goes something like this; the first man asks his friend who he has brought to the expensive eatery. The answer he is given astounds him, and he asks his friend, flabbergasted, “Haven’t you already shagged her?” and when an affirmation of that query is voiced, he then asks a third question, “Then why are you still spending money on her?”
Courtship rituals and beliefs do indeed vary between the male and female members of our species, influenced heavily by society and culture. Still, many similarities and differences are indeed evident and prevalent throughout the world in this respect. Girls all over the world scheme against each other to charm the popular hunk, and boys snicker amongst themselves at tales of their exploits and escapades with those very same girls. As apt as the analogies of alpha males and antler-wrestling are, the same can be said with increasing frequency of female spiders killing their inferior mates and queen bees being the absolute centre of a hive. While it can be said that Man has come a long way from their club-a-cavewoman-over-the-head roots, so much is still “standardized”, including their similarities and differences.
Nearly every relationship starts off with a first date. It is the primary concern of a multitude of adolescents and young adults all around the world. A simple meeting of two individuals for a meal or movie can turn out to be the most stressful event in a youngster’s hormone-charged life. The first date can quite often be the first instance where the contrast between male and females is observed. Females quite often spend hours fretting over every miniscule detail of their appearance, from the fall of their hair to the hue of their shoulders in any particular light before their first official “date” with a boy they like. Men, on the other hand, are quite often nonchalant, perhaps buying flowers on the way to picking the girl up from her place of residence. Prior to the event, it is also widely expected for the male to be the one initiating the date, with many fawning damsels being left heartbroken due to the ignorance of this “simple law” that so many males apparently fail to comprehend.
As a relationship progresses, more examples of the differences in how males and females are supposed to act appear. One has known many males who avoid any serious commitments for fear of burning a hole in their wallet. Similarly, several female acquaintances are more than happy to be part of a relationship for the financial arrangements that society expects out of the typical boy-girl relationship. Like a male bowerbird, the boys and men in most relationships are expected to bestow their significant others with gifts and presents, though twigs and berries rarely impress the average lady in this day and age. The afore-mentioned “law” that the male should be the one deciding what to do, where to do it and when to do it is also carried over to the latter stages of a relationship, and many females in this day and age who still subscribe to this school of thought find themselves feeling rather chagrined when the males (again) fail to live up to these expectations.
These differences in beliefs and the seemingly universal acceptance of these practices have been challenged in recent times, however. An increasing number of females have begun “taking charge” of relationships. Be it making the “first move” on a guy or deciding to watch Music & Lyrics over Spiderman, the traditional perception of a passive female in the process of human courtship is being, if it has not already been, overturned. Conversely, many men in this day and age are more than willing to accept a partner that takes charge of a relationship, without feeling that their masculinity is being challenged in any way. Even when the female half of a relationship does not appear to starting to “take over”, many relationships see the norms of old being absolved; couples regularly “go Dutch” instead of having the male collect the bill, or compromise being the common outcome in many situations that may have been decided by the males in years gone by.
It can also be said that males and females usually go into relationships with contrasting long-term goals and expectations. Male animals usually aim to copulate with as many females as possible, and this may correlate to the general consensus that many men go into relationships with almost no plans for long-term commitment. Females, on the other hand, habitually look to find the best mate possible and sticking to him, hence the general trend of women wanting to settle down with a man, something that so profoundly terrifies a male’s understanding of courtship. One remembers an instance whereby a male friend had been seeing a girl for a number of weeks before being introduced to her close friends. Upon this meeting, the first question presented to the astounded youth was “When are you going to marry her?” Such tales are not all that rare, and simply provide poignant examples of the differences in the expectations that males and females have going into relationships, even at a young age. An often-repeated tale of two friends meeting outside a fancy restaurant goes something like this; the first man asks his friend who he has brought to the expensive eatery. The answer he is given astounds him, and he asks his friend, flabbergasted, “Haven’t you already shagged her?” and when an affirmation of that query is voiced, he then asks a third question, “Then why are you still spending money on her?”
Courtship rituals and beliefs do indeed vary between the male and female members of our species, influenced heavily by society and culture. Still, many similarities and differences are indeed evident and prevalent throughout the world in this respect. Girls all over the world scheme against each other to charm the popular hunk, and boys snicker amongst themselves at tales of their exploits and escapades with those very same girls. As apt as the analogies of alpha males and antler-wrestling are, the same can be said with increasing frequency of female spiders killing their inferior mates and queen bees being the absolute centre of a hive. While it can be said that Man has come a long way from their club-a-cavewoman-over-the-head roots, so much is still “standardized”, including their similarities and differences.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Hard To Say
It's hard to say that I was wrong.
It's hard to say I miss you.
Since you've been gone it's not the same.
I love that song, and sometimes music has a way of reminding you about what's going on outside the radio. Or iPod. Or WinAmp. Whatever.
We all do things we regret eventually. We all say things we don't really mean. We all hide our innermost feelings from ourselves, even if they're plain to see to others. Some call it ego, others might just say that people tend to be deluded. Maybe it's a little of both.
Sometimes you never know what you have till it's gone, as the saying goes. I hate cliches by principle, but I guess sometimes they do the job, for lack of a better way to put things in perspective.
Why do people say things they don't mean, and why is it so hard to take it back? If only I could turn back time, or something. Well, I can't (yet) and so I'm left feeling chagrined, tired, aching and annoyed. Not much else could go wrong.
Well, many things could still go wrong, but I feel craptastic as it is.
I'll just stop now. Staring at my single blue wall like it's supposed to mean something. Does it? I don't know.
What I do know is that it is really hard to say some things sometimes.
But sometimes you gut it out, or at least try to.
I'm sorry.
It's hard to say I miss you.
Since you've been gone it's not the same.
I love that song, and sometimes music has a way of reminding you about what's going on outside the radio. Or iPod. Or WinAmp. Whatever.
We all do things we regret eventually. We all say things we don't really mean. We all hide our innermost feelings from ourselves, even if they're plain to see to others. Some call it ego, others might just say that people tend to be deluded. Maybe it's a little of both.
Sometimes you never know what you have till it's gone, as the saying goes. I hate cliches by principle, but I guess sometimes they do the job, for lack of a better way to put things in perspective.
Why do people say things they don't mean, and why is it so hard to take it back? If only I could turn back time, or something. Well, I can't (yet) and so I'm left feeling chagrined, tired, aching and annoyed. Not much else could go wrong.
Well, many things could still go wrong, but I feel craptastic as it is.
I'll just stop now. Staring at my single blue wall like it's supposed to mean something. Does it? I don't know.
What I do know is that it is really hard to say some things sometimes.
But sometimes you gut it out, or at least try to.
I'm sorry.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sardines
There are few things more mortifying than being scrunched up against a door by a stranger who emitting the distinctly moudly odour of a rain-soaked dog. Really.
Especially when one is attempting to enjoy the Sandman novels that I was so graciously gifted (yay!) for my birthday.
Still, not much else of note has happened in recent weeks, so I will apologise profusely to all my loyal fans and readers for the lack of excitement.
Do, however, check out the greatness that is Absolute Facts.
Especially when one is attempting to enjoy the Sandman novels that I was so graciously gifted (yay!) for my birthday.
Still, not much else of note has happened in recent weeks, so I will apologise profusely to all my loyal fans and readers for the lack of excitement.
Do, however, check out the greatness that is Absolute Facts.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
What a Drag...
"How many Indians does it take to screw in a lightbulb? 21. One to hold the bulb and twenty to get drunk and wait for the room to spin."
"You know why everyone who get dengue is Malay and Chinese? Because if the mosquito suck Indian blood it get drunk and die."
There is nothing quite like enjoying stand-up from someone dressed in a leopard-print robe with pink feathers.
Really.
I was at Hard Rock Cafe last night, though it must be said that it was largely against my own wishes. I was, however, finally convinced to don one of my only three decent shirts to appear to be the only one overdressed at the joint.
I vividly recall the last time I was there, though I won't embarass a certain someone with tales of her culinary confusion, and will instead focus on things much less humiliating...
I've heard of the Kumar show. For those of you who don't know who Kumar is, look him up. Or her. It. Whatever.
But the show was fantastic. Like I've said before, I'm regular practicioner of rascist jokes when done tastefully, but the sight of a tall slim Indian cracking the lewdest jokes I've ever heard was simply too much. I'm glad the kitchen was closed by the time we got there, because the humour was gut-bustingly good, and I'd have hated to have puked it on the nice wooden floor.
Humour is humour, of course, and everyone, regardless of the hue of their skin or the angle of their eyes was close to making ROFL a reality.
Plus I didn't want to be ridiculed, though I almost was.
If you guys and girls had actually gotten their attention and made me do a frickin' lap dance to another guy I would have never spoken to any of you ever again. Eeeeeeever again.
I'll leave you with one of my favourites from the show.
"We should stop making fun of the Chinese people. Sure, they can be blur at times, but they don't have any book to follow. Muslims have Qur-an, Christians have Bible, Chinese have what? Yellow Pages?"
"You know why everyone who get dengue is Malay and Chinese? Because if the mosquito suck Indian blood it get drunk and die."
There is nothing quite like enjoying stand-up from someone dressed in a leopard-print robe with pink feathers.
Really.
I was at Hard Rock Cafe last night, though it must be said that it was largely against my own wishes. I was, however, finally convinced to don one of my only three decent shirts to appear to be the only one overdressed at the joint.
I vividly recall the last time I was there, though I won't embarass a certain someone with tales of her culinary confusion, and will instead focus on things much less humiliating...
I've heard of the Kumar show. For those of you who don't know who Kumar is, look him up. Or her. It. Whatever.
But the show was fantastic. Like I've said before, I'm regular practicioner of rascist jokes when done tastefully, but the sight of a tall slim Indian cracking the lewdest jokes I've ever heard was simply too much. I'm glad the kitchen was closed by the time we got there, because the humour was gut-bustingly good, and I'd have hated to have puked it on the nice wooden floor.
Humour is humour, of course, and everyone, regardless of the hue of their skin or the angle of their eyes was close to making ROFL a reality.
Plus I didn't want to be ridiculed, though I almost was.
If you guys and girls had actually gotten their attention and made me do a frickin' lap dance to another guy I would have never spoken to any of you ever again. Eeeeeeever again.
I'll leave you with one of my favourites from the show.
"We should stop making fun of the Chinese people. Sure, they can be blur at times, but they don't have any book to follow. Muslims have Qur-an, Christians have Bible, Chinese have what? Yellow Pages?"
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