So We Watched Wolverine Again...

First, the tag from SI - Five that came in a tag -

1. Indifference
2. Indifference
3. Indifference
4. Indifference
5. Relief

And the post,

Papareboy, being his usual late self, said he hadn't watched Wolverine yet. So off we went along with the guy who keeps falling in a plethora of ways(Always wanted to use plethora. Was just reminded of it at the last open mic. yay). Wolverine is so much more fun when you replace the characters on screen. Hugh Jackman also looses much of his appeal whe he just leaves Deli- Kaitlin to bleed to death. We also got to see Cyclops doing his thing and fumbling about blindly, just like in the other movies.

Oh, and we also discovered something else. Since we had a few minutes to waste before the movie started, we decided to call on a certain someone who's been asking us to drop by in that area. But, try as we might, we couldn't find anything remotely resembling what was described, no matter how far we walked. What truly put us in a conundrum was the fact that none of the area residents had ever even heard of the place. Surely we couldn't have been fed lies?

Untiled-(I don't know how many)

Looks like I'm going through a dry spell. I can't think of anything to jot down here. Even now my attention is split between alternately typing a sentence and eating breakfast. I have to be careful not to get the chocolate on my fingers.

I need drama people. I need something to write about. Be it a flame war or a war-war. Maybe someone should post on some irrelevant topic like uh... Global warming or some other thing nobody really cares about. And then somebody should pretend to care and we can all get in a big fight, complete with expletives from one corner, threats from one, oh-so-aloof posts about it from another and carebear stares from Gehan.

There. Managed to finish eating with just slight stickiness on thumb. Hopefully the next person to use the PC will clean the keyboard.

ALSO. I am not mean. Going 'Who the hell are you?' at being introduced to someone is acceptable when you've just arrived at some place at night, after being out the whole day, to be told that your ticket has not been purchased yet, and there ARE none to be purchased. Well it should be.

It is a sad day for me. I just got left at the altar and even divorced. The ex, a certain blogger obsessed with small mostly edible fruits, got Hugh Jackman. I got the strippers form the hen party. Anybody want two male strippers best described as... well... male, Just barely?* At least they're enthusiastic. Just sign in to twitter and DM @pseud0random, who seems to be the pimp around those parts.

So, get cracking. I can't wait around all week for you bunch to start hacking at each other with rubber ducks.

Did I mention how global warming sucks? I even saw a t-shirt which said "Al Gore didn't invent the internet, but he DID invent global warming". I mean, who believes that stuff anyway? Tree huggers and hippies? Probably because they think they'll have to take a bath one of these days if it gets any warmer. I'm selfish. My kids can ask away about why we didn't do anything to stop it. Hell, they could have carrot red skin. Who cares? It'll be fun to watch the little buggers being chased around by bulls.

Anyone wanna take up the bait?



P.S. - I need somebody else to keep referencing in my posts instead of Gehan, as it seems I call upon him for every other post. I need to diversify. Any candidates for that too?


*Names may or may not include 'Papare' and 'Hish'.

Sweetness

Delilah and that runt Fallen have been discussing my 'sweetness' for some time now. I think it now deserves it's own topic, like #jerryssweetness or something. Now I have definite proof that under this hard, oh-so-manly and stare at me wrong and you die exterior, I am 'sweet'. In a good way.

Rats eat through my clothes in the night. I carelessly leave a few items lying around the room and some vile creature turns it into a gourmet dinner. I'm left with clothing best described as "well ventilated". I will need help in capturing this thing. The THING probably knows it. Don't you? Heck, you're probably on first name basis with em. I will need a mousetrap. A RAT trap. Nay! A bear trap, to capture the creature which had the gall to eat MY clothing! It must be massive. No other being would dare irk me.

Yes, that must be it. A giant bear-rat that's been ravaging the townspeople.

So, OM 2

Yeah, I'm making a second post. No reason, just to uh... clarify?

So there I sit, leaning against the wall, listening to some more poetry. Load up twitter. Eventually receive previously mentioned "BERRY!" text. Dread. Look around a bit, scanning the crowd. Can't look at many faces for fear of some enraged harpy staring daggers at me.

See Gollum next to me, in a green shirt. He takes out phone. Nokia. The phone of choice for the dark forces. Forward Berry message to him, adding "Somewhere in this room is the person who sent me that message. She has the ring". He looks around, drools. Fails. Never was much good at anything, that useless little $#&#^%!@#...

End of OM, walk over to whack. I'm wearing a _blue_ shirt. See him beckon, blah blah blah, DeeCee hobbles over, wearing many rings on fingers. Gollum goes crazy, starts tugging at her fingers, DC and Gollum locked in combat over toy ring gotten out of cereal box. Whack starts selling tickets to fight.

Dee kicks Gollum in the family jewels, escapes with horrendous looking scar on arm. Runs over St. Fallen in desperate getaway in car.

And THAT, my friends, is the true story of how your grandma met the president.

Dinner and of Stalling In The Act Of Deciding Where To Go After-Syndrome

Went for this kottu party thing a friend told me about yesterday. Met a hellava lot of people, half of who I can't really remember.

A bunch of old friends and some new people.

Findings :

• Dinidu De Alwis is schizophrenic. Do not believe his blog. Hell, I never read past more than four lines on his posts, afraid of getting lost in all the government this-government that. It was like that last level in a game that you're just not sure you can play yet. The dude is insane. In a fun, good way.
• I can keep talking about nothing in particular for a long time. Without any external stimulants. Unless kottu counts.

The minute I show up I see papareboy and who appeared to be his brother. I am later told that this other person was Mr. Alwis. I prepare myself for a night of listening to a constant newsreel like commentary on who was screwing(figuratively) whom in power/government/religion.

Well it was different. Again. First DC and now this guy. Even pavithri wasn't doling out hugs, contrary to her tweetings and much to everyone's chagrin. She called me mean. As if I could ever be anything less than gentlemanly. The only minor offenses I committed were asking The Puppeteer whether she wasn't supposed to be in a kitchen somewhere and splashing water on a certain curly haired, sexually confused journalist.

It was a fun night.


Now, about SITAODWTG syndrome. We experienced this firsthand yesterday. Actually, we created it firsthand. The first hand coming from one of us who finally got around to saying 'This is getting boring now, let's move on to somewhere else". Then a slew of other hands came in and stirred it up, mixing and kneading the question of "Wher to go?" into "So yeah, I'm fine with anything. You tell us.". And so everyone was fine with anyplace, except the place we were already in. That's not to say anybody could've just suggested a location and everyone would have agreed. Not so simple. It has to be a place that's interesting enough. We SAY we're willing, but we just want someone to magically read our minds and gauge our mood for a suitable location.

We were undecided for a few hours.

EDIT : Retitled due to gehan thinking it was a meetup of everyone on kottu.org, and not the actual... food. Yes, laugh at him, people.

Open Mic

Went for last Thursday's Open Mic. After a lot of hullabaloo about the war, celebrations for ending of said war and some other stuff about st. fallen's suicidal tendencies being brought out through a 'poem' about glasses full and half full of poison, I recieved a text.

A strange text. From a strange number.

A text with a single word in it.

A word that made me jump. A word that took me by the scruf of the neck, pushed me against the wall and said, 'I'm female'.

'Berry!'

I look around the room. A sea of faces in an ocean of... attentiveness? I'm not too sure. What with getting linked on the great RD's blog, I feel like I'm expected to come up with 'sophisticated' one liners and put downs every other line. It's quite taxing. Almost drains you of anything funny you had to start with.

Since Delilah seems to be the most frequent offender for usage of that word, I wonder if she's around. Log onto twitter. See if anybody is on who's been mobile tweeting. Nothing of interest. Strange. Nothing much of interest after that till-

After it was over, Mr Whackster beckons to someone in a manner saying 'Come aney, he's not going to bite you'. Somebody comes. Somebody is introduced as Delilah. I go D: . Then somebody else grins, not Delilah. DeeCee! And er... I'm sorry, I can't live up to your 'Be all sarcastic and make me look all...'. I just can't. There's nothing to write. A few seconds of exposure just doesn't give me enough to go on, especially when you're about as interactive as a wall, and not a revolving, hidden door-sy wall. Suffice to say, she was... different.

After that and after a brief ride in the whackmobile, I was off home. All in all it was pretty good. Fallen says it was the best we ever had. I'll take his word for it.

Speaking of 'Best I ever Had', I finally heard Gehan singing. Yes, just yesterday. And... he was pretty good.

There. A coompliment. A real compliment.

See? Miracles _do_ happen :P

Of Stereotypes

This line,

Dark skin. Prime suspect, if previous bombers are to be considered.

This got a bunch of people yelling "RACIST! RACIST!" at me. That was one of those lines that you write while thinking "This is one of those lines that'll be taken in the wrong way by some people." But you still post it. Because you stand by it. Me saying that is not racism. Me saying that is merely an educated guess on what skin colour a potential suicide bomber would have. It's just a feature.

Now even I don't think every dark skinned or tamil person is a bomber. But look at it in the context of the post, and you will see that its just... well... me noticing things. Just like the pregnant woman thing. Not all pregnant women are bombers are they? I play up the paranoia in the post, and what better skin colour than dark to use? If we were in america, I would've used an islamic man.

The people who get offended at that line are probably the same ones who have "Embrace Diversity" plastered all over their workplaces.

I'm off to write the next post. All ya haters can bite my ass
:P

The War's Supposed To Be Over?

So there I was in the bus again, heading to work. Sit down in the seat opposite the door, flick out phone and start looking through Twitter. After a while the woman next to me, in the aisle seat, get up and is replaced by a pregnant lady. What with all the flags and things, I couldn't help thinking about bombers. Specifically, a pregnant woman who went boom at the army hospital. Now I know they're all dead and surrendered up north, but did anyone tell the tigers down in Colombo about that?

*shifty eyes*

So I try to look at her through the corner of my eye. Dark skin. Prime suspect, if previous bombers are to be considered. Though one can't be sure, as there's not much skin left to go by after a bomb, and those who were close enough to notice aren't really in a position to comment. Deciding that I didn't want people adding a 'Bless his soul' after mentioning my name just yet, I turn ever so slightly.

To check out her chest.

Now, this is no easy task even when many meters away, and is almost impossible when you're right next to a person. There was also the chance of her getting so pissed off she'd blow me to bits just for that. Were suicide bombers taught enough discipline and restraint to wait for the proper target(s) even in the face of perverts?

Catch a microsecond long glimpse.

Doesn't _seem_ to be wearing anything looking vaguely like a vest. Try to take another look and see that there are three women standing right next to her. They look angry. Thoughts running through my head wondering whether they saw me trying to sneak a look. After a minute or so of sweating it out while staring straight out the window, I start thinking 'God. I've been relatively good to you, never killed anybody or anything like that, don't let me dieeee... I have plans! Things to do! You ca-'

Was it just me or was my walkman's volume a few notches higher now? I listen to the words. "If you were dead or still alive, I don't care, I don't careeeeee!"

Mortified. Damn Adam Gontiere and his stupid song. Damn him to hell.

Just to make sure, he adds "I swearrrr!"

After much shaking of hands and plans of mad dashes to the door, I feel a stare burning into the back of my neck. Turn around to see the pregnant woman gone, and replaced by one of the three witches. She was staring at the back of my head.

Oh well, strange, offended woman is better than strange, about to blow up woman. Offended women can be ignored. A bloody big bomb can't be. All's well, God exists, and he likes to scare people.

And then the sun shone through...

...

I'm sorry, that's about all the dramatic-ity I can muster. The rest of my meager reserve was spent on walking up to an abandoned street stall in Borella and asking the old man there(See? Old man. Old. That has to be at least a little dramatic, right?) for a flag. Ever opportunistic, they still overcharged for it. Either way, there's none left to expend on my already shaky writing.

It's like living in a weird-everydays-christmas like place right now. At the moment I'm getting more or less the entirety of the president's speech texted to me by the Daily Mirror news service. Firecrackers going off sporadically. People on the streets. I have to stay cooped up in here. I wanna go wave a few flags, dammit! I have the right to wrestle with some old lady for a prime spot by the pavement to grin at passing vehicles!

I will arm myself with a keyboard instead.

*wave
*shove

It just. Doesn't. Feel. The. Same.

The fighting's all over. People keep asking what we're going to talk about now. As if there isn't enough to talk about now that people have stopped getting their legs whipped out from under them by a mean man named claymore. What do you think people in other countries talk about? India didn't get that highly populated without a few solid conversation starters. And I doubt men in China went about with a Tiananmen square pickup line.

Go back to the default topics. These are for males. Slightly alter and you get females.

• Small children - Toys/starring in America's Funniest Home Videos
• Teenagers - Females
• Young men - Work/Females
• Middle age - Family/Work/Starring in America's Funniest Home Videos
• Seniors - Females

For women, just replace "females" with "shoes".

I mean, I can't remember the last time I talked about the war. Save for the getting flag bit, it never came up in conversation for at least a few weeks.


WOOO!!!! Tomorrow is a national holiday!
:D

I have to go rejoice! Will finish this post later. I hope.

Good Monday Everyone. Smileys.

It's another Monday. Eurch.

I like smileys. Not that I go overboard with them or anything. ;) ;) :P

But one smiley which I regard with utter contempt is... is... it is one which mocks you, confuses you and makes you question yourself over and over again.

;D

That blasted thing. What is it doing? Grinning widely, but also winking. Try doing that with your face. Now try to not look like a retard. You are told that the user of this smiley is grinning, but then when you see the wink, you wonder if that really is the case. For all we know, they might be winking just to tell us "You're not funny, but I'm grinning anyway just to stop from being uncomfortable". Or even "Haha, I'm laughing AT you, not WITH you, fool". A mischievous grin? is that it? But would ;) not suffice?

Bah, I don't care.

:P

Oh the drama!

***
--Post Removed--

Not because of anything that retard calling himself NB did, just that it feels somehow... dirty having that post up.

Oh, it's still available for sale at your request :P

***

-------------------------------

Oh well, you get the gist of it. Fine, so maybe I typed quite a bit more than required to 'ge the gist of it'. Sue me. :P
People who've posted pics on their blogs earlier > This creep was probably around for a while, so he probably copied em or something. He might post them.

Other info like location, workplace and family will be accessible only if you've blogged about them. Important thing is, do not be alarmed. He's just a seriously retarded person who thinks he's being awfully smart with all this. Maybe he'll get off on all the attention and, as he says 'bugger off'. And by seriously retarded I mean split personalities and shit. I mean, it takes a special kind of person to make multiple blogs, each opposing the other, and then post a shitload of comments from adoring fans. I honestly believe he needs treatment. EDIT : He is not a hacker, nor does he have a friend who 'hacks'. He wouldn't talk like he copied dialogue off the movie 'Hackers' if he knew anything much.

But you know what's worse? People who believe it all.

Getting Attention

I've been feeling pretty neglected on the blogosphere lately, what with most trolls ignoring me and even that other douche seeming to pick Gehan over me. Highly distressing when you thrive on hits.

So to rack up some pageviews and generate some troll-fodder, I present to you my latest post on what people are saying.

Let's see.

Drag up Gehan's blog for a blogroll. His own blog has some sob story about him crying or something. Speaking of, I still haven't heard him sing :/

Moving on to the blogs, DC has something about a Japanese fetish. And something to do with rats. A rat, rather.

Charm Bracelet is closing up. Oh well, more hits for me. But I still think it's pretty pointless leaving.

Pseudorandom is having a Bad Day. She's listening to 'Let Her Cry' by Hootie and the Blowfish. Maybe that's why. And the title is clearly a Daniel Powter song, and not, say for example, Fuel. It's so "E-FM... All the time".

D has posted again, but only to tell us she shouldn't be posting. She makes a few solid points such as me having to be more careful with messages and girls being fun to look at. But then she goes a bit off and says she misses Sabby. I mean, who misses HER? Certainly not any of us.

Scrump has a post on the significance of 'x'. Must be some secret code by women to taunt us. See, signals like that don't work unless the dude you're sending them to knows what it means. Apparently all women know this. Except for scrump. Signs of a hairy 40-year old hiding behind a keyboard pretending to be a 20-something 30-something female?

Next up is RD. Something about writing. Long post, and I'm not in the mood to read it all. Pic of a written page. So I skim through it. I see something about Pubs, then a claim of "I'm gay and I hate all you English bastards.". I can't really say I knew that, but the moisturizer did throw some doubts that way.

Then there's T. Click and it's all black and gray. This taking quotes out of context thing is fun. Like "Clearly I have a problem selling myself.".


And then I got bored. That's it for now till I get round to writing a proper post.

Unfortunate Events

Yesterday Evening -

You know those moments when everything seems just right? Those times when you've just got back from a tiring day, and decide to just chill? Just chill out with some good music and something to munch on.

Well, I'm having gone of those right now. Working my way through yet another box of assorted chocolates, gnawing through the caramel inside some of them. The score provided by an album called the Flying Carpet(No, not the Aladdin soundtrack). Bliss. Bliss that _you_ can't have. Which makes it even more blissful. I'm so blissfully blissful that I could just buy a motorbike, ride across the country with bliss and get a t-shirt that says "If you can see this, Bliss fell off" on the back.No troubles exist for me. Work tomorrow? No problem. Almost broke? I don't care. Chocolates. Stumbled upon a serial killer's kidnap victim trapped in a basement, who I'm supposed to alert the authorities about? Tch. I cannot concern myself with such petty squabbles.

*I pause. Send a message to a certain someone. MyPhoneExplorer>Last Message>Reply*

I vaguely remember The WhacksteRRR going on about something or the other. His imagination running off with a dead man or something like that. Though a word to the wise dude, those undead ca-

*Phonecall*

'Oh, speaking of the devil, here he calls. Wonder what's up.'

*Answer*

I'm momentarily distracted by my mom, then eventually listen to what he's saying. I start to hear the contents of my last message read back to me.

*Panic*

Panic, because the message, that blasted message, was something you do NOT send to another male friend. Under no circumstances do you let anyone get a peek of a message that throws light on your carebear-ey side. And here I was, listening to the contents of one such message being recited to me. Multiple times, for some reason :P

I contemplate telling him it was a prank, that I was kidding him. But the contents would be hard to explain. Thoughts of explaining that I'd recently turned to the rainbow-coloured side and that I was madly in love with him briefly crossed my mind. ANYTHING would be better than somebody else being in possession of that message.

We kid around and he agrees to be agreeable. For absolutely no compensation. Oh yeah, there was something about he being in my posts in a positive light but all that was just minor details. I also kiddingly added that he should return the message to me so that I could mail it to the correct recipient. But lo and behold, I get it back from him after the phonecall. So now I have a lovey-dovey message from him too. Heh. Still, it's not quite the same.

So, phonecall ended.

I vaguely remember The WhacksteRRR going on about something or the other. His imagination running off with a dead man or something like that. Though a word to the wise dude, those undead ca-

All hail TheWhacksteR.

Moral of this story : ALWAYS verify who you're sending your messages to, and Whacko is great.

Goththu

Heh, how's THAT for a title, eh kids? :P

If you're wondering what it means, it means you're not samrt like me. But I'll explain anyway. See, a lot of people on kottu are acting all depressed and waxing lyrical about how people do strange things and pain being everywhere. Much like goths. So my reasoning is kottu + goth = goththu. Do you see now? How cool is that eh? No? I'm a foolish little boy making stupid word plays? Screw you.

Anyway, you lot HAVE been acting a little strange lately. I think it happens in waves. One prominent blogger starts it off and the rest of you follow up like lemmings jumping off a cliff. Sure, the moon at vesak was as fugly as ever, it's either raining catdogs or solar surface hot and kottu's full of bad poetry. The latter being the most valid reason to fall into such an emo-like state. But then again, turning emo means your output of bad poetry goes up by about 500%, creating a vicious cycle. Sort of like drinking to forget about your drinking problem. Or like... like... Something you do to stop doing that same something. I don't know. My brain's not working. But the point is, you're turning this place into a goth convention, complete with attendant trolls, skinny witches and nerdy punk rock fans. Everywhere I look it's wah wah the war! wah wah my family's starving! wah wah my leg got bit off by Gehan at the mall! Bah, sell your PC and buy some cereal. Or just stay away from the mall. Meh. You deserve what you get if you went to Kandy anyway.

Just shows even more clearly that you lot should be more like me. For example, last night I woke up with a start and realized something cold was rubbing against my leg. I look down and see a long black thing lying there, tip rubbing on my thigh. I certainly didn't shriek and jump off the bed. No, definitely not. I er... bit it. Yeah, I bit it, only to discover it was merely a black leather belt. Man up, lankanosphere(enough people have given credit to RD now to stop doing that now)!

Oh and I went to church today and skipped out during communion. Nothing funny there. But CB insisted so I put it in here. Go TP her house for dirtying my blog with such trash.

On Titles

The more perceptive among you might have noticed that I rarely have a particularly interesting title. For posts. Take the last one for example. I had no idea what to call it so I just put in a generic name. Most of my posts are just about what happens everyday. For example, today I traveled in a bus going so slow and bumpy at times it felt like I was riding a lawnmower to work. Then I'd write a post about bus drivers and women on buses and how I slept on my arm and woke up with it hanging by my side, completely numb today. See, I can get a post out with decent speed, I just have no idea what to call it.

I think this naming affliction is going to come back and shock rifle me in the head some day. I'll probably write a children's book and call it 'Daddy drinks a lot because you cry' or 'The boy who got beaten up, had a revelation and did his homework better. Also Pancakes.'. Hopefully my powers of inventing-a-name-for-something won't be called on too often.

I hereby shorten the name of this blog to ASOB,NQIM. I know it sounds a bit strange but as a friend of mine pointed out, it sounds like one of the names you heard when watching 'The Gods Must Be Crazy' back when you were a kid. Or more or less anything said by the little black guy in it. I've heard he's found his dream job in a coke factory and lives happily ever after. Coca-Cola.

Until next time,
Yours untruly,
Me.

Rant + Twilight

Bleeaarrrrggghhhhh.

I keep seeing guys in pink T-shirts. What's wrong with you? Pink is just not a colour a regular guy can wear. Unless he's on a catwalk. You do not, in fact, exude confidence or show any lack of insecurity in your sexuality. If you are secure in your sexuality then you wouldn't have to wear a statement enforcing that point. Face it, even though everyone says 'it's just a colour', it's still a less than desirable colour for say... A sport scar. Unless you're a woman. There. Would you drive a pink BMW, males? No? Oh But I thought you were all for the 'confident and yet sensitive' look. Bull. All that new age hogwash can go the way of political correctness and the abominable snowperson.

I watched Twilight. Well, about 40 minutes of it because I was getting late for work and my fingers were sticky from licking the chocolate off them. Anyway, the first thing that struck me was how pasty they all look. Even the mandatory black guy was white, even the girl from Arizona. Vampires, fine, but the others? I had to turn off auto-levels on Media Player Classic to make the thing watchable and not look like some weird arty pic. Then we come to the 'main couple'. These two, when together look like the freakin Gilmore Girls. Actually, they're a bit more tan methinks. Mr. bushy-eyebrows is the most emo one can get without wearing black. And considering he's a vampire, I'll bet he does that too. Maybe he bites his wrists every so often to blank out the pain. And god, could Bella 'My face is botox'ed stiff' Gilmore be more typically female*? She falls for the dude, for god knows what reason. Maybe she wants to roam around in the underbrush of his eyebrows. She then gets told that everything about him is made to attract, down to smell even, but no, she 'trusts' him. All this over the fact that he's a vampire! Does she not know what they do? Did that book she brought not tell her that they suck blood and not raise kittens to take lolcat photos of?

Meh.

Yeah yeah, any movie has it's oddities. The pale-faces were just too weird for me.




*Foolish.
:P

Sorry About...

...that stinker of a last post. I was waiting for someone and someone turned up, so I had to leave in a hurry. I _did_ in fact get that reload, and I _am_ really apologizing.

Anyway,

Heh. Couldn't resist.

Ahem. Anyway, I am finally at peace with my hair. After letting it grow wild for a few months, I chopped most of it off, but with a few adjustments so that now, I don't really have to do anything to it to make it... Presentable. The allure of hair that only needs flattening after a shower is just too much to stay away from.

Also, I seem to keep imagining that random people on the street or on buses are bloggers. I'm not sure why I do this, but it just happens. Probably has something to do with the fact that I only realized most bloggers were normal people at the last Open Mics. Till then I was under the impression that most were members of some elite book club, hanging around various upmarket hangouts with a latte in hand, quoting some obscure poet. I mean, I see blogs with Picasso or Andy Warhol pieces in the footers. I thought Andy Warhol was a comedian or something. And as for all those weird poetry excerpts, what the hell? If I manage to just barely scrape a meaning out of it without introducing my head to my desk, I consider myself lucky. Turns out they're all regular dudes and dudettes(?) after all.

Merry Monday everyone, have a great week!

Shopping List

Shopping list for today:

• 1x money changer
• 1x Nokia BL5C battery
• 1x Reload

So, first off, money changer. Bussed to fort, uneventful. Not even a sudden brake making some mean old woman hurtle to the front of the bus. My luck was out. Get off and start walking towards the usual guy. Exchange rate's gone down, and I'm not too adept at bargaining. Get money, start walking to Pettah to get battery for sister.

Walking through the crowd listening to, or TRYING to, Sigur Ros plays so damn quiet in Ti Ki that you can barely hear them even with in-ear earphones without turning up the volume. So I just skipped to Spaceman. Eventually found battery, stared at many people and walked back. Of course, I did manage to bring my water percentage in my body down to 55% from the excessive sweating. Do not head out at noon people. You WILL die. I was picking my way through the dead bodies on my way back to fort. The only life was around the little drink shop things.

Buuuuutttt I'd write more but I have to go now, to be continued.
See ya'll later.