Male Supremacy & Desecrated Roti

Ya know what? We've gotten to the state that men are afraid of women. Some women should be feared anyway, such as the likes of that gigantic neighbor of mine, Thatcher, Sabby and Gehan. But what does it say about our society when I actually feel the urge to look away when a woman enters a bus, for example. This urge has been borne of many years of being stared daggers at by various women who fell under my gaze while I was just idly looking at the different people around me. I occasionally look in the face of strangers I pass on the street, sometimes smiling, sometimes sizing them up. But if it's a female, forget it. Too many were the times I get stared at as if I jumped on her back and started yelling 'I'm ridin' mah biatch!!'. Unsettling, to say the least.

When I was still a naive young lad, I used to smile at people who were in my path and came close to colliding with me as I zigzagged along the pavement. Youth would have helped me in getting many of them returned, even by the rosy cheeked akka's who would sometimes pat my head. I try smiling at a akka, who is by now a nangi regardless of relative age in that strange sri lankan way, who's in my path and she just glares. Do all women assume that all men are closet rapists? The 128 teeth baring smile of my youth is gone now, thanks to you erstwhile members of the Ultrasecret Ultrafeminist Ultranazi Ultramovement.

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I should really just make multiple posts with these things instead of dividing up posts, but they just seem too short.

Anyway,

I was out looking for food. I'd gotten bored of going through everything Perera & Sons had on offer and wasn't looking forward to be fleeced at BARS. I wanted _rice_ that day. Off I went in the sweltering heat. Switched over to the Galle road hoping to find a thosa kade-hotel like thing with something good. I pass by a few smaller shops and then remember a few (female) bloggers getting all excited about the massacre of good food in the form of chocolate forced against it's will into a roti... thing. So obviously I had to go see if it was really as good (bad) as they said. So I walk the few extra meters and end up in Hotel (De?) Hijra. By this time I'm all sweaty and stuff. So I order a chicken fried rice to go and have a Smack. The fruit drink. Not the hit. I take it, go back to office and eat it. Pretty good, large-ish and plenty of... stuff... to eat it (how many more of these bracketed texts can I get in?) with. So I can say with all certainty, the chocolate roti thing sucks. It is a vile desecration at the altar of the chocolate god. I'm all for eating everything with chocolate, but this is just going too far. See you in hell, pagans.

The heat's getting to me too.

Just missed a lunch meet thingy promising much fun (and merriment. one more, it seems) because I had to rush back to work. Which is puzzling because I'm supposed to be looking for NEW work, not hanging around the current work. :/

:*(