Friday, February 27, 2009
Anyway, what I got here to say was, why in the world do we have hair? Why couldn't we have just gotten fur? Ever since I got back from camp It's been acting all weird. One minute it'll be all Bob Marley-esque curls and the next it'll be plastered down like a cat on the highway in front of two rapidly approaching headlights being followed by 18 wheels. People usually go on these things to find themselves. My hair seems to have lost itself. So I yell "Don't screw with me hair!!11one" and it goes still for a second. Then it just makes me look like Charlie Chaplin and yells back "You don't scare mee!". Stupid hair. I am powerless against it. It haunts me in my sleep. Seriously, it'll get all straight and try to poke me in the eye. Way to kill the mood when you're dreaming of - ..nevermind. I tried poisoning it by throwing kerosene on it, like, you know, kerosene irritates things like snakes and well hair is long and you know, the Medusa had snakess for hair and like, so, hair == snakes. But it just got in my eyes and I got o spend the day at the hospital. Why doesn't anyone get the snake analogy? It's like this. Imagine the hair is a fish that lives only in salty water, and that it breeds once in three weeks. Now think of the snakes as polar bears, who hibernate for long periods. Now, polar bears are white. You get what I'm saying? Yeah, that one always works.
I swear, if it weren't already dead I'd send it all to the gallows. But since the best way to torture the dead(As we all learn from TV) is to make them wander the earth rattling chains. They get really cranky and go all "mokada do???" at you. So I decided to nick some of the jewellery lying around the house and draped it over my head. Now I am a Pharoah. King Tut En Jerrymahn.
I think I need a Panadol or two... Headdd
Finally got back to gaming. Stopped halfway in Dead Space.
Modelling a Miata instead. You will see the fruits of my labours soon :D
Thursday, February 26, 2009
This is a first...
Well anyway, I won't be posting too often for the next few weeks atleast, and probably won't be commenting on many posts. I will read them, but it'll be on a tiny phone screen so I'll be too enraged at your post by the time I get to the end of it to have anything useful to say. I'll even take a while to reply to comments, since opera mini throws a fit each time I try to comment on my own blog.
There being no internet at work anymore is the root cause of this. So yeah, feel free to stone my boss if you see him on the streets. Also, on quite a related note, I'm looking for a job. Again.
So, I'll see ya'll around! Although I may not comment, rest assured that your posts are being read, and systematically judged by the High Court of Me.
PS- Will still be online though, so no worries on that end ;)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
How did I end up like this? Rewind a few hours.
I'm hoping there are buses to Colombo from Hanwella, where I just got off a bus from Kitulgala to pick up a few small but essential things I left at a friend's house. I'm all too aware that I'm a dude carrying an enormous bag in the middle of the night, with wires sticking out of my pocket. Needless to say, the other two people there edged away. As if they'd get any less blown up if I was indeed a suicidal pyromaniac. Finally, a bus arrives. I get on it and find all the seats taken. I glare at some kid staring at me. Eventually I get a seat and promptly fall asleep. wake up just before I'm supposed to get off in Pettah, and in my absent mindedness, nearly waved and yelled at everyone after I got off, since that was what I did the last time I was on a bus.Thankfully I stopped myself after turning around to face it, and before my hand was up.
A few sheepish minutes later
It's 9:20 by now and I'm too tired to lug my bag all the way to near the station. I doubt there would have been any buses there anyway. So I set off into the deserted private bus stand looking for a long distance bus going my way. Find one and sit. My legs praise my wise decision and my brain rewards me with a feeling much like having my legs sponged down by doting nymphs. Imagination runs amok when you're sleepy. Bus finally pushes off after 20 minutes or so and I keep my eyes glued to the road since these buses travel pretty fast. After approximately three minutes, I fall asleep. Time and space pass.
Wake up. Look outside, recognize nothing. Realizing that the best measure of where I am is the time, I consult my phone. It tells me it's 10:30. Right. I should have been near my house at about 10:10. The bus stops to drop some dude so I jump off just as he starts accelerating again. First thing that pops out of the darkness as I try to slow my rapidly displacing person is one of those concrete mile post things. After rushing around it and finally stopping, I find myself standing in the middle of a puddle of water. I scan a lonely shop sign for any mention of location. It says Belummahara. Doesn't ring any bells. So I pull out my phone. Yakkala. Egad. I'm dead. At this point it strikes me that my approximate location nearly hit me in the face as I got off the bus. I go back to look at the milepost. It says 26km along the A1. Highly distressing considering there's one just like that where I live which says 14. I don't think it's any coincidence that I went exactly twice the distance I wanted to go. *shake fist at sky* So, armed with my approximate location and some money, but also crippled by a large red bag and some money, I cursed myself for not staying on the bus till the last stop so I could just get another back.
Now, Colombo may not be so bad at 10:40 in the night, but once you go out of it, Sri Lanka is a dead country, save for the occasional gang of thugs or the lone old man on a bicycle. You can imagine what it was like to be standing on the side of a deserted road with paddy fields on one side and a few derelict looking buildings on the other. Look in the direction of home. Emptiness. I look the other way, looks like vehicles in the distance. Start walking and stick my hand out at any three wheelers that pass. They all rush past. I start contemplating hiding my bag somewhere and sleeping at the step of some building. I also contemplate being mugged by some dude, since I'm practically a walking traffic cone what with the bag being a bright red. I think I was just too tired to panic. Eventually I get to a junction like place and see two three wheelers stopped by the side of the road. Hallelujah! Get in one and head back. Talk to the driver about stuff like terrorists, the bomb the day before and public transport being nonexistent at night. Get off, pay, and quickly walk the few meters to my gate. Open. Stick key into lock, turn, and be greeted by The Music Of The Night. My dad's reading something on the couch while playing music just loud enough to indoctrinate those trying to sleep. Not so loud that it disturbs, and not quiet enough to ignore. He goes "HMM" at me. I stumble into my room and start pulling out all sorts of half drenched things from my pockets. Wallet, pieces of paper and phone etc. Start feeling dizzy. 11:24.
I inspect my face in the mirror.
Things I learned in camp-
- Never take things that don't like getting wet on hikes.
- Turn down requests to be team leader if it involves motivating the team on hikes.
- Wear appropriate shoes on hikes. Multi-terrain sneakers might make you feel like spiderman, but you'll regret it later when you wonder how to get all that mud off.
- I'm still in pretty good shape physically!
- The wood they give you to make rafts is not adamantium cored.
- Rowing is hard.
- Rowing backwards is harder.
- There is no such thing as too much camouflage face paint.
Will get to reading all your blogs in a bit. Till then, just imagine I commented and leave a response. Actually, use this as my standard comment - "Yeah right. Go ears! lol. hit me baby one more time and lick a goat! woo".
Thursday, February 19, 2009
So I’m sitting there, wondering who the people around the table are. It’s dark and there’s only a flickering candle at the center of the table. You’d understand if I’m a little apprehensive. Their faces get lit up occasionally to reveal mouths, noses and most other facial implements. Well, at least they look normal.
I ask the dude sitting next to me ‘So uh… you’re?"’ ‘Ah I’m Myprerogative machan, and this is’…uhh.. shit. ‘[someone] and Margarita, whacky’s friends’. I nod and smile at each in turn. So, now that everyone’s staring at me I decide to say something suitable. Except it came out something like
‘Why are you all staring at meh?!’
Thankfully Whacko and Realskullzero got back to the table after their little misadventure. After they get settled, I get into my routine of taking friendly insults, horribly deforming them into far worse ones and then applying themselves on me. See, people’s accusations of you being gay stop being too effective when you yourself admit to not only being gay, but also ‘one who dishes out surprise-sex’, carrying along a bottle of chloroform all the time.
Except this time things didn’t exactly go to plan, and I just ended up being looked at funny. Hence all the “Lies” posts on my part. So I hastily resorted to using my ego to call myself
a god, but that fell apart rather quickly when I appealed to yet another apparently higher power for help in… something or the other. It doesn’t do your godliness any favours when you shake your fist at the sky and shout “Why God, WHY??”.
After that it was a pretty jumbled up discussion involving riseoftheasdadgs and how cupid was born. I’m not really sure how the airtight swimwear thing got there but it had something to do with the getting-pregnant-in-the-pool myth. And I think rotfl was supposed to be wearing a pair or something. I dunno. It was hard enough keeping up with the gist of the conversation while painstakingly typing out text messages, and it was impossible to keep track of all the characters involved. Whack said there was some kind of matrix involved but there weren’t any pasty white dudes making out with Keanu Reeves around(But seriously. Trinity totally looks like a guy). I think he meant some kind of marketing thingy made up by a pasty white dude.
Eventually [someone] left and was soon replaced by UnsilentDawn, that poem slinging… dude. He was duly warned of my allegedly strange taste in partners by all present and was told not to worry, all of them combined could take me down. But by this point all I could think of was that ‘TheWhackster’ had been behaving very strange the whole evening. But being the gullible fellow I am I just ignored it and continued to try and make sense of everything happening.
After much going on about nothing in particular, we set off. That bit was fairly regular, so I shall leave it to your imagination. Suffice to say that MyP and whacko were alone in a car at the end of it.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Youdickhead! Its moving! Ohnoohnoohnooo Professor Gunasinghe is gonnakillme'!
'Sir, its reaching for the wormhole!! what do i do sir? sir? SIR!!.....fuck.'
Greenwilly Jayasinghe froze as he saw their, at best, sadistic project mentor entering their little hastily slapped together control room. Greenwilly, Will to his friends, was not by any stretch of the imagination a quick thinking man. How he got into this whole business of littering the universe full of newly created wormholes, nobody knows. On the other hand, his superior, Bluetits, known to his friends as just Blue, was quite capable of dodging even the stickiest of situations.
After a few seconds Blue noticed that his not-too-bright charge had nearly stopped breathing. He turned around to see the considerable frame of Professor Gunasinghe breathing down her nose at him. She was the type of person who would assign you the task of calculating Pi to the millionth digit, with a calculator,if you so much as looked at her wrong. But at the moment, Blue had bigger things to worry about than starting at her rudely.
'What's wrong you! Men, always standing around! What is that!' she screeched, seeing the infra-red video stream of our friend the hothead. Blue cast around for explanations and finally ended up with 'It's a videogame we're testing, ma'am. Just to uh... see if the... ROP's perform right when configured this way.'
'Hmph.... well... get back to work then! Lazy little.....'
'Whoa, that was close...' Blue said as she drifted off to spread her vile self on someone else.
'Uh... Sir, I think you should-'
The hothead had by now moved right next to the wormhole. Now, wormholes are strange things. Even they themselves didn't understand wormholes properly. Each time they had created one in the past, anything they'd tried to bring through it had turned to ashes and little lumps of diamond at this end. They assumed the wormhole was pulling through a great deal more space and matter than they wanted it to, hence creating an unpleasant environment for safe travel. The first primitive species they'd encountered had even used their multi-billion dollar experiment as a convenient waste disposal unit that had popped into existence.
As hothead started slowly moving into it, Blue waited for the CCCRRRRRSSHSHHHHH sound that would signal the need for yet another clean-up of the 'Landing Room', the place where everything significant from the wormhole popped into existence. They'd figured out how to get rid of the useless bits like dust and female aliens along the way. In essence, they were littering along hyperspace.
Hothead tentatively stuck a limb into the strange swirling mass of light and dust, and was promptly sucked into it with a little 'plop' noise. A few seconds later and a few thousand light years away, it blinked. Cold.
Meanwhile, Blue and Willy were getting ready to shut down when their local AI alerted them to the presence of _something_ in the Landing Room. Blue stopped mid-sentence and stared at the screen which was displaying a strange looking thing that looked like a cross between a teapot and a dildo.
'W- We'd better go get to it before her highness finds out, mate' said Blue.
'You think she'll actually try t-' queried Willy.
'No, you idiot. jeez...'
So off they went to the Landing Room, wondering how in the world it had survived. The only possible explanation was that the creature actually _lived_ in such environments. But then it would surely die when exposed to the local atmosphere. He ran faster.
'Entrance to the Landing Room has been restricted to personnel with multi-suits, as inner atmosphere has been adjusted to suit it's sole inhabitant.' chimed the AI.
'Well, there's that question answered...'
He pressed the comm link button on the door. Willy slowly moved behind him.
'Booo' Blue said
What they heard struck fear into their hearts like neither had ever experienced.
'lol lol diS is so aWeSomEE'
On to MyP
Sorry if it's not what you expected, just wanted to maintain some sameness to it, instead of wildly going all over the place.
Stay tuned for Lies 4.0 : The Beach
Monday, February 16, 2009
1. Try to find alcohol after 9.
2. Get fleeced.
3. Walk over to Pizza Hut, look across road for signs of Wander Vaal's Road. Find Wandevaath Place.
6. Avoid weird dude sitting outside his gate talking on phone.
8. End of road. Railway tracks in front of me.
9. Screw the numbering...
Call Myprerogative. Don't hear the usual "Brother". He says turn right. So I turn right. Darkness. I remember Gehan :s . "Walk four steps forward"(Click the link. Seriously.). Take three slow steps into darkness. Then jump back a few meters. Cautiously approach again, moving along wall. Where are you when you're needed, Mr. fingers?!
By now I'm wondering what the plan is. My mind races and starts throwing up all sorts of possibilities from someone throwing a sack over my head to just a tap on the shoulder. So I settle on someone throwing a water balloon at me. What? It was the sea. Water. ???
Eventually I hear snatches of someone's voice on the phone and inquire further. In between being nearly run over by a train and doing a few pretend ninja style maneuvers over the track, I cross it. The track. Just a dark path between the trees ahead, so naturally I'm a bit apprehensive about entering it. Myprerog/whack says something like "I'll send someone to collect you".
Those words were like a knife cutting through the butter of my resolve. I remember all the things people, well a person, said. And some stuff people DIDN'T say. Get visions of some weird cult looking for a human sacrifice, a bunch of pedo's on the beach, even worse, what if they have BO!? I panic. Rush off into the trees before anybody shows up, see a dim light ahead.
Eventually go upto it and am greeted by some dude sitting at a table. "Jerry?" he asks. I was pondering saying no and running like hell, but meh. I decided to just give up and go sit. I see a female sitting across the table. Oh shit. Is it DC? I pull up various memories and start reeling through, wondering whether I've pulled any chauvinist pig numbers on her recently. She grins. I'm mortified. I look for sharp objects.
A few seconds later RSZ and whacko show up. Buuuttt, my head smoothed out after a while and we got down to just... whatever it was. Except of course that I had to mix up whack and RSZ's identities. The sneaky bastards...
On a completely related note, saturday/valentine's day was pretty good. Spent more or less the entire day on a beach somewhere. The second beach I went to also happened to be playing host to some "Bachelors" thing. I go over and see a female. Bachelors? Yeah, she's called Margarita so she doesn't count they said. Apparently Dee had been threatening to come crash it too, but in true female fashion, she didn't show either. Pity. We had to just throw away all the water balloons.
After a while everyone had a permanent grin hung on their faces and I was definitely not under the impression that a certain blogger was not really that blogger but yet another certain blogger. I put Sherlock Holmes to shame with my keen eye for all the small things like the alleged certain blogger not knowing what the hell I was talking about for the most part. Only a complete fool would have been blind to the complicated tetrahedral web of lies that was being spun around him. Yes, I may have appeared to be under their spell, but I was merely doing it for sport. Certainly not because I had no idea. And their final acknowledgment that they were not who they said they were but were indeed each other certainly did not strike me like a wet slippery fish delivered swiftly to the face. No, of course not.
That was classic :D
Much debauchery was promised, and debauchery we got. Quietly debauching till the wee hours of the morning.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Many things come to mind. But notably the fact that tomorrow is valentine's day, and today is Friday the 13th. No, I'm not
According to statistics, men spend around twice as much as women on valentine's day. This doesn't really seem too just. But then again, what CAN you buy a man? Flowers? Jewellery? Even chocolates would be wrong for not sharing your own. So it looks like men are just throwing money at the problem.
And that little nugget is the Stinger missile to the Cessna 172 of women's ranting on men not 'giving enough'.
And I choose to ignore the fact that you aren't talking about material things with regard to giving.
Also, Black cats. I haven't seen any yet, but I did take care to carry a vial of water with me everywhere.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Reeled you in with THAT one eh? Expected ol' me to talk about confusion, surprise, death, destruction and many, many ribbons? That's not what relationships are about? I didn't notice. -_-
Yes rf, I stole your smiley. Bite me.
Since I've established that you lot are a bunch of cricket hating traitors to the motherland, with only a few of you even having a soul, I have nothing left to write here. :s I've tried to pin it on someone sucking my life out, but I'm not so sure now. I'm eating breakfast at the moment, crumpets. I used to love this stuff, and now I'm just barely getting them down my throat. Come on, loss of appetite? Much time spent in a confused daze mulling over what to do? Yes people, I'm dying.
I see that I've made it to some list s. Go read my opinion on ranking at the respective posts. Although I love these sorts of things, since I am 'at the core' a vain, attention starved kid, I am quite disappointed by where I stand in all this. Well what do you expect? I still claim to have an ego that can by itself be classified as a planet. Anything less than a score of 141089 out of 5 is a disgrace. But still, I seem to be slowly withering away. Not in real life, that is, just me as in what you see here. Which is about 80% of real life.
I will join the ranks of the undead with grace.
Wish me luck in plodding through life at a slow trudge,
and munching at your skull if I can't find a fudge.
And to whom it may concern, and by that I mean Dee, I AM NOT SKINNY :P . I am the proud owner of a BMI that is on the right end of the 'average' marker. An upper middle class BMI, if I may say so myself.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Yesterday I was playing cricket in the dark with a bunch of friends. Well, not in the dark, it started out around 5. There were only four of us so it was a just a game which had a slight resemblance to cricket. There were appeals shouted to nonexistent umpires, positions were interchangeable and usually the only slip was when there was a patch of wet grass. More runs were scored from extras than from boundaries. Especially towards the end when things got dark and we couldn't find any luminous paint for the ball. Many were the misses that were blamed on the full moon having an effect on the ball's path.
So we just swung at air hoping for a hit. The scoring was slightly altered so that contact with the ball would get you six runs. If you hit it to the boundary you were out.
But it was ela kiri.
There's something very enjoyable in not knowing whether you're out or not, and the decision being made on the mood of everyone present. The wicket being an old chair didn't help.
...I'm off to go find some flash cricket game...
Monday, February 9, 2009
1 in 11,000,000 they said
It'll never happen
It's not THEM all around him
It was getting a little too wet for his liking
Blue and white ribbons gathering
Bits and pieces still sticking out
He thought back
Spilt drinks too
He tried to go back
"Please attach your own mask before assisting young children"
Meh... I need to go listen to some Mr. Brightside... I will be back in force come tuesday :P
Friday, February 6, 2009
Cool things change fast. For example, if software piracy was called something like "Illegal data reproduction", do you think so many people would be into it? How can they hope to stop it with a name like that? Leaving that question hanging, let's see what people are like.
There's cool, there's uncool, and then there's you and me. "Cool people" I say, are a myth. Many people might think you cool for something or another, but many more will regard you as just another sheep. Uncool people are abound. You all know them. But then again these "uncool" people are cool to some others. Even this judging of whether someone is cool or not would make me uncool, right? But some people do act certain ways to have an effect on others. And none of you can deny it. Be it either impressing the hot girl in class or trying to get a job. Is pop culture cool? I think most of us would slap an "As seen on MTV" sticker on the face of anyone trying to imitate Soulja Boy. Even the people who go all out to distance themselves from pop culture are called retards. Mommy and Daddy work till five so they wander around looking for trends to rant about. Then there are people who feign semi-insanity in the hopes of getting noticed. And then there's people who keep spewing stuff to entertain others, and try to 'Peddle sarcasm as a higher form of wit'. Like me. Not too sure on the 'entertaining' bit though.
There is no cool or uncool. Just people... who do... stuff.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
But alas, my skills in getting what is in my mind onto my blog are too amateurish to attempt an explanation. I think the problem lies somewhere between the keyboard and my chair. So instead, I will regale you with tales yester
It began at the usual 12am. I was awake. Worse, I was under the misguided impression that I was being terribly funny while half asleep. I apologize to any who had to witness it. There should be some kind of law where you can't use words longer than two syllables from 1am - 6am. They might sound like a good idea at the time, but it's like eating ice cream with a fork. It might work, but it's just not right. Then I went to sleep. Then I was awake again. Then on TV there were some tanks and things going by and I was going 'omg omg the Russians are here! get to the basement oh noes we don't _have_ a basement!!!' and then someone told me it was just the GI Joe movie with our president as Cobra so I calmed down. Then I threw fire extinguishers at zombies till breakfast. But a beaver ate my scones so I kicked it. And THEN the neighbor started playing rap music so I opened the window and yelled "HOW BOUT SOME TCHAIKOVSKY YOU PAGANS!!??" and he hit me with a shovel so I threw the cat at him.
After that it was a blur of doing nothing, going out to a friend's place to get some movies and back home for dinner.
Oops, I did it again. Not sing along to Britney Spears, just that this thing is turning into a diary. I think I am rapidly going into that zone where I won't need the "not quite" bit of the blog title...
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Anyway, Music is weird. I go from
"I don't need this s**t
You stupid sadistic abusive f***ing w***e
would you like to see how it feels mommy
Here it comes, get ready to die!"
"I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah
I'm walking on sunshine wooah"
In just a flick of a switch. Mood changing, from wishing to break everything in sight to beaming joy. Don't judge me. If you don't like 'Walking on Sunshine' you have no soul, and the devil will gnaw at the toes of your poor, lifeless existence till finally you trip on a protruding root, fall off the rooftop garden of a 100 story building and find yourself in hell. With your mother posing for pictures at the entrance like a sadistic playboy bunny.
Hmm... Hot girl walked in. I'm off...
Monday, February 2, 2009
Not so. The towering geniuses(geniusi?) had decided that their source couldn't possibly have been lying to them , and called again. Just yesterday. Yet again they are completely baffled by a male voice at the other end. Do they use a list or something? Aren't you supposed to tick off each number that has been unsuccessful?
I'm pretty sure it's not a prank caller since it would have to be a well, prank, to qualify. This is just the annoyance of answering the phone. None of the questioning of sexual preference and retorts, suggestions of a growth in your spleen and further questioning of whether said growth has started the laying of eggs, that usually follow. This guy is to prank calling what a guy who plays Guitar Hero is to Carlos Santana. He is but a 12 year old girl in the world of prank calling.
Anyway, in case it's one of you bastards out there, let me spell it out to you. I man. You man. I no like man-man love. I no need extra wee wee to play with. Go away.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
CERTAIN PEOPLE want a change :P
So I get out the cam, note that I need a new, preferably prosumer, model. *hint *hint
Taking proper pictures with a compact is next to impossible unless you're taking things like rocks and trees, which usually don't complain about how they look in the picture. With people, it's always best to take atleast a few dozen images and hope for the best.
Not to say that you won't end up looking like a retarded goat, but there's that small glimmer of hope.
I'd better get back to reading this thing...