Once upon a time, the exact time I cannot reveal, lives a boy who is tired of all his toys. It isn’t part of his learning to get tired of all his toys at his age, but somehow he did. To make the matter worse, the boy is also tired of the way he looks at things. He has lost interest in seeing things that excite most of the kids at his age. Like birds, rainbows, trees, and the killer bees.
The mother became worried and decided to let the boy to do some gardening. She figured it could trigger him the sense of taking care of little things. Or at least, she wouldn’t have to spend money on hiring another suspicious gardener. The last gardener she hired over watered the plants and all the rabbits died, which is sad, really. They were really cute rabbits. Long ears and all that kind of stuffs, you know.
I remember when I was young I used to have a rabbit of my own. I used to stroke her. Her name is Sally. She smelled awful but if I put her in bath, she will turn to the right smell again. It will also be nice if you slipped in a little extra shampoo into the bath. But be extra careful when you do that, because rabbits don’t like people to do things behind their back. Like one time Sally actually jumped on the kitchen cabinet and finished my coughing syrup just because I coughed behind her back.
Sally was so delicate that I had to put her in my room so she wouldn’t be run over by my brother’s toy truck. Sometime the truck would make deliveries in my room and I had to tuck Sally under my bed. One time the truck delayed its stay when making one of its deliveries, Sally actually made little houses under my bed. It was one of the dumb things that make me chuckle. I would also chuckle if someone nibbles behind my ears. But that is another story.
Of course you wondered what happened to the boy who is tired of all his toys. It will be no surprise if you expected him to over water the plants and accidentally killed himself. But whatever he does, there isn’t much to tell really. Because this boy who is tired of everything, has also made everything tired of him. To be perfectly honest, I don’t like this boy, not even if he nibbles behind my ears.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
The Balloon Man
In Dumbville, at the exact location I cannot reveal, lives a man with a balloon face. The man’s face, which is a balloon, can blow up if it gets too close with filths such as dust, powder, hair, toy trucks, rolling ball pens, missing needles, very small particles and unwanted disappointments. Hence, the man, 25 and a half, has an acute concern with his personal hygiene.
The balloon man is much like any other man you see in Dumbville. He wears T-shirt and pants. Except the face, which he often try to cover it with his umbrella, is a balloon. The township, however, finds the balloon man a shaggy dog story. They gossip and joke behind the balloon man. Some children would even try to poke his face, which is very unsafe, and the balloon man would have to go into hiding when the children do that.
Although the balloon man would very much like to be part of the township, he finds it difficult for he cannot talk whenever he is asked. He tried gesturing, and it only triggers the township to doubt his intention. He tried to write down whathe meant to say, but it was useless as the township is not literate and does not know words.
Life has been tough for the balloon man. There are times he could barely hold himself together. But now he has found a place to live, the exact location I cannot reveal. At certain time of his life, he will poke himself to death with a pencil or something. Although the message of his death might end up being another shaggy dog story, the balloon man chooses to shudder it off. He would laugh it off if he could, but unfortunately he can’t.
There is something the balloon man wants you to do with his apartment key. But only until your karma is good.
The balloon man is much like any other man you see in Dumbville. He wears T-shirt and pants. Except the face, which he often try to cover it with his umbrella, is a balloon. The township, however, finds the balloon man a shaggy dog story. They gossip and joke behind the balloon man. Some children would even try to poke his face, which is very unsafe, and the balloon man would have to go into hiding when the children do that.
Although the balloon man would very much like to be part of the township, he finds it difficult for he cannot talk whenever he is asked. He tried gesturing, and it only triggers the township to doubt his intention. He tried to write down whathe meant to say, but it was useless as the township is not literate and does not know words.
Life has been tough for the balloon man. There are times he could barely hold himself together. But now he has found a place to live, the exact location I cannot reveal. At certain time of his life, he will poke himself to death with a pencil or something. Although the message of his death might end up being another shaggy dog story, the balloon man chooses to shudder it off. He would laugh it off if he could, but unfortunately he can’t.
There is something the balloon man wants you to do with his apartment key. But only until your karma is good.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Tap and Map
Well, the man has decided to move out. Or rather, he has no choice but to move out. The man’s name is Elbert JD Borothinni. He had enjoyed the days living alone with Tap and Map. But now it is time to say goodbye to Tap and Map. The only friends or rather roommates that Elbert JD Borothinni has had in the place he lived. Although you might have expected roommates like Tap and Map to throw a farewell party for Elbert JD Borothinni, they wouldn’t. They will not unless Elbert JD Borothinni wants them to. And Elbert JD Borothinni doesn’t want them to throw him a farewell party. And hence there will be no farewell party as you may or may not have expected.
Even though it is completely natural and courteous to throw your parting roommate a surprise farewell party, Tap and Map will not do that. No. Not even if you beg them to. They will not do that. You wonder what kind of roommates can be this mean, this ruthless, this antagonist-like. How much could it cost to throw a minimal get-together-eat-and talk-and-send-off kind of thing? Not more than $10 even if you go with the very expensive chips and sodas.
You are totally saddened by this. In fact, you have to stop yourself reading this pitiable-feeble-dull-brainless-cheap-you don’t know what to say-slow-pointless-insincere-crappy-time wasting story. You don’t even know whether you are supposed to feel sorry for this Elbert JD Borothinni guy, or to despise Tap and Map. Or even to feel the combination of both. You don’t know.
One thing you are very sure of is that you are reading a very bad story. Could it be the worst story you will ever read. To be honest, you don’t know. It has been a very strange day. Whatever you read today just doesn’t make sense. Oh, wait, did I tell you that there was this orphan boy who just adopted Tap and Map. Oh, no, wait, no, the orphan boy is actually Elbert JD Borothinni. They wouldn’t talk to Elbert JD Borothinni. That makes Elbert JD Borothinni extremely lonely. Of course you anticipated Elbert JD Borothinni to drop dead and get over with the story right now. There was no surprise, he died. Nobody knows how he died, he just died.
Oh Christ, no, no, wait, the latest update: the orphan boy who just died is actually an Elbert JD Borothinni look alike. Elbert JD Borothinni is still packing the stuffs in the apartment. There are way too much stuff left in the apartment, and Tap and Map just wouldn’t help. I am not supposed to tell you this, but Tap and Map are actually imaginary people. Elbert JD Borothinni doesn’t know it yet.
Even though it is completely natural and courteous to throw your parting roommate a surprise farewell party, Tap and Map will not do that. No. Not even if you beg them to. They will not do that. You wonder what kind of roommates can be this mean, this ruthless, this antagonist-like. How much could it cost to throw a minimal get-together-eat-and talk-and-send-off kind of thing? Not more than $10 even if you go with the very expensive chips and sodas.
You are totally saddened by this. In fact, you have to stop yourself reading this pitiable-feeble-dull-brainless-cheap-you don’t know what to say-slow-pointless-insincere-crappy-time wasting story. You don’t even know whether you are supposed to feel sorry for this Elbert JD Borothinni guy, or to despise Tap and Map. Or even to feel the combination of both. You don’t know.
One thing you are very sure of is that you are reading a very bad story. Could it be the worst story you will ever read. To be honest, you don’t know. It has been a very strange day. Whatever you read today just doesn’t make sense. Oh, wait, did I tell you that there was this orphan boy who just adopted Tap and Map. Oh, no, wait, no, the orphan boy is actually Elbert JD Borothinni. They wouldn’t talk to Elbert JD Borothinni. That makes Elbert JD Borothinni extremely lonely. Of course you anticipated Elbert JD Borothinni to drop dead and get over with the story right now. There was no surprise, he died. Nobody knows how he died, he just died.
Oh Christ, no, no, wait, the latest update: the orphan boy who just died is actually an Elbert JD Borothinni look alike. Elbert JD Borothinni is still packing the stuffs in the apartment. There are way too much stuff left in the apartment, and Tap and Map just wouldn’t help. I am not supposed to tell you this, but Tap and Map are actually imaginary people. Elbert JD Borothinni doesn’t know it yet.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
What Happened Was
He finds it hard to write this story. He has received hate mails from people who think what he writes sucks. Enclosed in those hate mails, are also erasers. The readers demand to rub out the parts that are not interesting enough. He is disappointed, but if he hasn’t removed the boring parts before a certain time today, something not pretty will happen, and we don’t want that.
He is restless right now, for he could not find a way to make this story interesting. He tried to write about the woman who lost her virginity, but he recognized that he’d have to put in her boring boyfriend in the story, and that will be impossible to make this story interesting. At certain point he decided to give up. But apparently he had nothing better to do than to finish this story.
What is he supposed to write? Will he remove the boring parts before a certain time today? Will something not pretty happen? Do we ever want to know that?
What if he tell the readers that he is sick today?
He is restless right now, for he could not find a way to make this story interesting. He tried to write about the woman who lost her virginity, but he recognized that he’d have to put in her boring boyfriend in the story, and that will be impossible to make this story interesting. At certain point he decided to give up. But apparently he had nothing better to do than to finish this story.
What is he supposed to write? Will he remove the boring parts before a certain time today? Will something not pretty happen? Do we ever want to know that?
What if he tell the readers that he is sick today?
Is Today Tuesday or Wednesday? (Part One)
They sat in the car, the man was driving. Now and then he slowed down the car. It appeared to him that the car in front of them was doing the same thing. In this manner, the woman slotted The Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra tape cassette into the player.
‘Is today Tuesday or Wednesday?’ said the woman.
The man looked at his wrist but had not remembered to put on his watch. ‘Shit’ the man said. But it was more of a whimper than the use of bad language.
‘What?’ the woman turned to the man.
‘Tuesday?’ the man said.
‘Serious?’ the woman sighed. ‘Then Wednesday’s tomorrow’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’ the man turned to the woman.
‘Nothing’ the woman straightened her jacket. ‘I just can’t remember’
‘Maybe it’s not Tuesday yet’ the man slowed down the car again.
‘I don’t care’ she turned up the volume on the player.
‘You don’t care?’ the man turned added a little speed to the car.
‘What?’ the woman turned down the volume on the player.
‘You don’t care?’ the man repeated.
‘No, I don’t care’ the woman said. ‘Why?’
The man shrugged with that habitual jerk on his brow that sometimes made his face looks annoying.
‘Fart faced’ the woman murmured and turned up the volume on the player.
After spending 3 years following the same routine that the plant has perfectly scheduled for them, they suddenly became a shadow of their own past when they were laid off from work 3 months ago. They eat when they are hungry, and sleep when they are tired. The consequence of such exploitation of time was the lost of their standard behavior, i.e. their politeness, consideration, freedom of speech and team spirit, were largely uncontrolled.
‘Fart faced’ the man bitterly uttered the word, giving the woman a side way glance. ‘Better than bushy armpits still’ the man arrogantly raised his voice.
‘Yeah, but who’s the one licking them?’ the woman ironically declared.
‘Is today Tuesday or Wednesday?’ said the woman.
The man looked at his wrist but had not remembered to put on his watch. ‘Shit’ the man said. But it was more of a whimper than the use of bad language.
‘What?’ the woman turned to the man.
‘Tuesday?’ the man said.
‘Serious?’ the woman sighed. ‘Then Wednesday’s tomorrow’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’ the man turned to the woman.
‘Nothing’ the woman straightened her jacket. ‘I just can’t remember’
‘Maybe it’s not Tuesday yet’ the man slowed down the car again.
‘I don’t care’ she turned up the volume on the player.
‘You don’t care?’ the man turned added a little speed to the car.
‘What?’ the woman turned down the volume on the player.
‘You don’t care?’ the man repeated.
‘No, I don’t care’ the woman said. ‘Why?’
The man shrugged with that habitual jerk on his brow that sometimes made his face looks annoying.
‘Fart faced’ the woman murmured and turned up the volume on the player.
After spending 3 years following the same routine that the plant has perfectly scheduled for them, they suddenly became a shadow of their own past when they were laid off from work 3 months ago. They eat when they are hungry, and sleep when they are tired. The consequence of such exploitation of time was the lost of their standard behavior, i.e. their politeness, consideration, freedom of speech and team spirit, were largely uncontrolled.
‘Fart faced’ the man bitterly uttered the word, giving the woman a side way glance. ‘Better than bushy armpits still’ the man arrogantly raised his voice.
‘Yeah, but who’s the one licking them?’ the woman ironically declared.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
The Runner (Part Five)
‘No’ she said. ‘Spell Montainge’
‘Oh, right… right’ he sat straight. ‘Montainge…M-O-T-A-…wait…no…M-O-A?-N-T…’
‘Huh?’ she deleted what she typed. ‘M-O-A-N-T ?...no way’
‘Because it’s French you see’ he uncrossed his leg. ‘M-O-N-T-A-G-H-T-T-E-K…I don’t know…look up for Godard…maybe you’ll find her there’
‘Nah’ she sat back. ‘I’ll do that next time’
‘Her mother died at 54’ he reached over to the pack.
‘What?’ she said. ‘Godard’s mother?’
‘No, no, Godard’s a guy’ he pulled out another stick. ‘Montainge’s mother’
‘Can we just get over this Montainge thing really quick?’ she let her breath out.
‘Yah…yah…you see’ he lit the cigarette real quick. ‘Montainge’s mother died at the age of 54…and now that Montainge has just become 54 herself…she’
‘How’s your wife?’ she cut his story short.
‘Huh?’ he said. ‘Who?’
‘Your wife’ she crossed her legs and placed her hand in between them.
‘My wife?’ he exhaled. ‘She just turned 30’
Uh huh’ she waited for a while for details, but didn’t get any. ‘Does she …erm…know about your…erm…condition?’
‘My con…ugh…di…ugh…ugh…ugh…tion?’ he choked.
‘Yah, the prank calling thing’ she said.
‘Uh huh’ he cleared his throat. ‘Does she know about what?’
‘Does she know about your prank calling condition?’ she sandwiched her hand in between the legs tighter.
‘You mean does she know about Catholaphia?’ he took another drag.
‘Yah’ she let her hand stay where it was.
‘Yah’ he exhaled.
‘Does she mind?’ she breathed heavier.
‘Erm…no’ he let the cigarette sit on the ashtray. ‘She doesn’t know…I don’t think she would like to know either’
‘Huh?’ she breathed insignificantly heavier. ‘You don’t talk to your wife?’
‘I’ve already told her too much’ he looked at the cigarette reducing in size. ‘And there really isn’t any need for her to know about my condition…especially…you know…the condition might provoke a certain kind of…uncertainty’
‘Uh huh’ a lungful of air went in to the receiver.
‘You know…’ he looked at the cigarette insignificantly reduced in size. ‘Like being suspicious and all that…’
‘Is your wife…ermm’ she inhaled. ‘deeply asleep or something?’
‘What do you mean?’ he put his free hand on top of his head.
‘Where’s your wife?’ she let her hand quietly slipped inside the skirt.
‘She’s at this…err’ he picked up the burning cigarette. ‘trumpet class’
‘Trumpet class huh’ she looked at her colleague reading from the bible. She pulled herself closer to the desk. ‘Is she good?’
‘Huh?’ he exhaled. ‘You mean like blowing the thing?’
She giggled. ‘Uh huh’
‘She’s okay I guess’ he took another drag. ‘I’ve never seen her blow’
‘You’ve never seen her blow huh?’ a gust of air came out from her.
‘Yah’ he put out the cigarette. ‘Never’
‘Have you ever wanted to see her blow?’ she made a quick gasp.
‘No…no…not really…I would really have to talk her ear off to see her blow’ he turned to the clock. ‘Mmm…listen…I’ll just say goodbye now…you know…before I hang up on you’
‘You’re leaving?’ she paused.
‘No…I’ll still be around’ he said. ‘But…errmm… my wife will be back like any moment now…you know…and I’ll have to hang up on you… once I hear the knob turning…you see…so I thought I’ll just say it now…before I hang up on you…’
‘Oh boy’ she gave her moist fingers a little rub on her thigh
‘I can go on for a few more minutes...’ he turned to the clock again.
‘Uh’ she looked up to the ceiling and quietly let her breath out.
The weather changed. It was getting cold on his side. It was getting cold on her side too. They realized that they have not been feeling lonely until then. Something wasn’t clear, maybe they'd talk again during the next trumpet class. Or maybe they won't. They waited the knob to turn. And in this manner, nothing was said.
‘Oh, right… right’ he sat straight. ‘Montainge…M-O-T-A-…wait…no…M-O-A?-N-T…’
‘Huh?’ she deleted what she typed. ‘M-O-A-N-T ?...no way’
‘Because it’s French you see’ he uncrossed his leg. ‘M-O-N-T-A-G-H-T-T-E-K…I don’t know…look up for Godard…maybe you’ll find her there’
‘Nah’ she sat back. ‘I’ll do that next time’
‘Her mother died at 54’ he reached over to the pack.
‘What?’ she said. ‘Godard’s mother?’
‘No, no, Godard’s a guy’ he pulled out another stick. ‘Montainge’s mother’
‘Can we just get over this Montainge thing really quick?’ she let her breath out.
‘Yah…yah…you see’ he lit the cigarette real quick. ‘Montainge’s mother died at the age of 54…and now that Montainge has just become 54 herself…she’
‘How’s your wife?’ she cut his story short.
‘Huh?’ he said. ‘Who?’
‘Your wife’ she crossed her legs and placed her hand in between them.
‘My wife?’ he exhaled. ‘She just turned 30’
Uh huh’ she waited for a while for details, but didn’t get any. ‘Does she …erm…know about your…erm…condition?’
‘My con…ugh…di…ugh…ugh…ugh…tion?’ he choked.
‘Yah, the prank calling thing’ she said.
‘Uh huh’ he cleared his throat. ‘Does she know about what?’
‘Does she know about your prank calling condition?’ she sandwiched her hand in between the legs tighter.
‘You mean does she know about Catholaphia?’ he took another drag.
‘Yah’ she let her hand stay where it was.
‘Yah’ he exhaled.
‘Does she mind?’ she breathed heavier.
‘Erm…no’ he let the cigarette sit on the ashtray. ‘She doesn’t know…I don’t think she would like to know either’
‘Huh?’ she breathed insignificantly heavier. ‘You don’t talk to your wife?’
‘I’ve already told her too much’ he looked at the cigarette reducing in size. ‘And there really isn’t any need for her to know about my condition…especially…you know…the condition might provoke a certain kind of…uncertainty’
‘Uh huh’ a lungful of air went in to the receiver.
‘You know…’ he looked at the cigarette insignificantly reduced in size. ‘Like being suspicious and all that…’
‘Is your wife…ermm’ she inhaled. ‘deeply asleep or something?’
‘What do you mean?’ he put his free hand on top of his head.
‘Where’s your wife?’ she let her hand quietly slipped inside the skirt.
‘She’s at this…err’ he picked up the burning cigarette. ‘trumpet class’
‘Trumpet class huh’ she looked at her colleague reading from the bible. She pulled herself closer to the desk. ‘Is she good?’
‘Huh?’ he exhaled. ‘You mean like blowing the thing?’
She giggled. ‘Uh huh’
‘She’s okay I guess’ he took another drag. ‘I’ve never seen her blow’
‘You’ve never seen her blow huh?’ a gust of air came out from her.
‘Yah’ he put out the cigarette. ‘Never’
‘Have you ever wanted to see her blow?’ she made a quick gasp.
‘No…no…not really…I would really have to talk her ear off to see her blow’ he turned to the clock. ‘Mmm…listen…I’ll just say goodbye now…you know…before I hang up on you’
‘You’re leaving?’ she paused.
‘No…I’ll still be around’ he said. ‘But…errmm… my wife will be back like any moment now…you know…and I’ll have to hang up on you… once I hear the knob turning…you see…so I thought I’ll just say it now…before I hang up on you…’
‘Oh boy’ she gave her moist fingers a little rub on her thigh
‘I can go on for a few more minutes...’ he turned to the clock again.
‘Uh’ she looked up to the ceiling and quietly let her breath out.
The weather changed. It was getting cold on his side. It was getting cold on her side too. They realized that they have not been feeling lonely until then. Something wasn’t clear, maybe they'd talk again during the next trumpet class. Or maybe they won't. They waited the knob to turn. And in this manner, nothing was said.
Friday, December 09, 2005
The Runner (Part Four)
‘Erm…’ he took a drag. ‘We are not like ‘born’ to piss on ourselves or…I mean…you know, it’s just that the chances go up if you stand pissing…you’d probably piss on yourself if you stand pissing, right?’
‘Huh’ she rested her elbows on the desk. ‘Why would guys want to stand pissing then?’
‘Because it will look sissy if they sit’ he put the cigarette down on the ashtray.
‘And so they take the chance to piss on themselves?’ she said. ‘Is that true? I have never heard of anything like that’
‘Right, right’ he watched his cigarette sitting on the ashtray. ‘I don’t think this is the kind of thing that anyone would want to bother, you know, like the erm, I don’t know, erm, like how…erm…you know, things that people stop caring?’
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘I am amazed that I am 27 and still haven’t heard of guys pissing on themselves…I mean…like a common thing as you said…maybe you are right…people just can’t be bothered’
‘You are 27?’ he picked up his cigarette.
‘I just said I am’ she giggled. ‘I hope I am not terribly old’
’27 is great’ he let the smoke out from the nostril this time. ‘I met my wife when she’s 27’
‘Does it make it great being 27?’ she chuckled and placed her fingers in between the cords again. ‘Didn’t know you were married’
’27 is great in many ways’ he flicked the ashes into the ashtray.
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘Like what?’
‘Like…’ he exhaled. ‘You are still 27 years younger than Elizabeth Montaigne’
‘Uh huh’ she giggled. ‘What else?’
‘You get to…’ he took another drag. ‘You get to …emm…try things and get away with it’
‘Like what?’ she turned to her computer and yahooed Elizabeth Montainge.
‘Like you can call a person fat and get away with it’ he said. ‘And you get to sleep with younger men without really like…pleasing them?’
‘I could do all that way before 27’ she rechecked the spelling on ‘Montainge’. 'How do you spell Montainge?’
‘How do I spell what?’ he put the receiver on his left ear.
‘Montainge, Elizabeth Montainge’ she said.
‘E-L-I-Z…’ he said.
‘Just give me Montainge’ she interrupted.
‘Why?’ he put out the cigarette. ‘Are you trying to google Elizabeth Montainge?’
‘No’ she said. ‘I am using Yahoo’
‘I find Google better in seaching people like Elizabeth Montainge’ he reached over to his coffee mug. ‘You don’t know Elizabeth Montainge?’
‘I know’ she cleared her throat. ‘I just don’t know her well enough’
‘Right’ he had a sip of the coffee. ‘She’s cool, you know. She did a lot of work with Godard.’
‘Uh huh’ she placed her fingers on the keyboard waiting.
‘Do you want me to spell Godard?’ he said.
‘Huh’ she rested her elbows on the desk. ‘Why would guys want to stand pissing then?’
‘Because it will look sissy if they sit’ he put the cigarette down on the ashtray.
‘And so they take the chance to piss on themselves?’ she said. ‘Is that true? I have never heard of anything like that’
‘Right, right’ he watched his cigarette sitting on the ashtray. ‘I don’t think this is the kind of thing that anyone would want to bother, you know, like the erm, I don’t know, erm, like how…erm…you know, things that people stop caring?’
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘I am amazed that I am 27 and still haven’t heard of guys pissing on themselves…I mean…like a common thing as you said…maybe you are right…people just can’t be bothered’
‘You are 27?’ he picked up his cigarette.
‘I just said I am’ she giggled. ‘I hope I am not terribly old’
’27 is great’ he let the smoke out from the nostril this time. ‘I met my wife when she’s 27’
‘Does it make it great being 27?’ she chuckled and placed her fingers in between the cords again. ‘Didn’t know you were married’
’27 is great in many ways’ he flicked the ashes into the ashtray.
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘Like what?’
‘Like…’ he exhaled. ‘You are still 27 years younger than Elizabeth Montaigne’
‘Uh huh’ she giggled. ‘What else?’
‘You get to…’ he took another drag. ‘You get to …emm…try things and get away with it’
‘Like what?’ she turned to her computer and yahooed Elizabeth Montainge.
‘Like you can call a person fat and get away with it’ he said. ‘And you get to sleep with younger men without really like…pleasing them?’
‘I could do all that way before 27’ she rechecked the spelling on ‘Montainge’. 'How do you spell Montainge?’
‘How do I spell what?’ he put the receiver on his left ear.
‘Montainge, Elizabeth Montainge’ she said.
‘E-L-I-Z…’ he said.
‘Just give me Montainge’ she interrupted.
‘Why?’ he put out the cigarette. ‘Are you trying to google Elizabeth Montainge?’
‘No’ she said. ‘I am using Yahoo’
‘I find Google better in seaching people like Elizabeth Montainge’ he reached over to his coffee mug. ‘You don’t know Elizabeth Montainge?’
‘I know’ she cleared her throat. ‘I just don’t know her well enough’
‘Right’ he had a sip of the coffee. ‘She’s cool, you know. She did a lot of work with Godard.’
‘Uh huh’ she placed her fingers on the keyboard waiting.
‘Do you want me to spell Godard?’ he said.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
The Runner (Part Three)
‘Uh huh’ she said and sank even lower into the chair.
‘I didn’t think you would be wearing glasses’ he let his eyes concentrate on her face in the picture. ‘And I can’t tell if you have one of those brown eyes that I thought you might have’
‘The glasses are props’ she said. ‘Because none of us were wearing glasses and the guy thought it would be nice if one of us can put on the glasses he brought over, you know, to even things up, maybe?’
‘Huh?’ he placed his pinky at the girl’s face, trying to imagine how she would look like without the glasses. But it was bound to cover her face no matter what angle he placed his pinky at.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Yah’ he pulled out his pinky from her face.
‘You all right?’ keeping her voice down.
‘Yah…yah…’ he put down the brochure.
‘If you wish to talk to my colleague’ she turned to her colleague. ‘I can hook you once she’s done with her call’
‘Why would I want to talk to her?’ he reached out to the pack.
‘I don’t know’ she said. ‘Because I am not terribly pretty’
‘Uh huh’ he lit the cigarette. ‘Most people don’t get the face that could fit their voice’
‘You think so?’ she let her breath out.
‘Uh huh’ he crossed his legs and exhaled. ‘If you look at Dolly Bartholomew, or Tracy Carver, or you know, The Bananas in Pajamas…they don’t sound like how they look’
‘Uh huh’ she looked at her colleague reading the bible to her caller. ‘I am not crazy about being pretty and all that. But then I might have, I don’t know. What about you?’
‘Me?’ he exhaled. ‘No, no…Sorry what were you saying?’
‘Are you crazy about the whole external beauty thing?’ she repeated.
‘Oh…right’ he took another drag. ‘No, no…not really…but erm…you know…erm…I still feel bad if I cut myself when I shave…or you know…if I pissed on my pants…things like that’
‘What?’ she made a laugh. ‘Do you still piss on your pants?’
‘Huh?’ he tried to hear what she has just said. ‘What?’
‘Do you still piss on your pants?’ she giggled.
‘Yah’ he said. ‘Isn’t that common?’
‘Is that common?’ she tilted herself back to the normal sitting position. ‘Do guys piss on themselves on the time?’
‘I didn’t think you would be wearing glasses’ he let his eyes concentrate on her face in the picture. ‘And I can’t tell if you have one of those brown eyes that I thought you might have’
‘The glasses are props’ she said. ‘Because none of us were wearing glasses and the guy thought it would be nice if one of us can put on the glasses he brought over, you know, to even things up, maybe?’
‘Huh?’ he placed his pinky at the girl’s face, trying to imagine how she would look like without the glasses. But it was bound to cover her face no matter what angle he placed his pinky at.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Yah’ he pulled out his pinky from her face.
‘You all right?’ keeping her voice down.
‘Yah…yah…’ he put down the brochure.
‘If you wish to talk to my colleague’ she turned to her colleague. ‘I can hook you once she’s done with her call’
‘Why would I want to talk to her?’ he reached out to the pack.
‘I don’t know’ she said. ‘Because I am not terribly pretty’
‘Uh huh’ he lit the cigarette. ‘Most people don’t get the face that could fit their voice’
‘You think so?’ she let her breath out.
‘Uh huh’ he crossed his legs and exhaled. ‘If you look at Dolly Bartholomew, or Tracy Carver, or you know, The Bananas in Pajamas…they don’t sound like how they look’
‘Uh huh’ she looked at her colleague reading the bible to her caller. ‘I am not crazy about being pretty and all that. But then I might have, I don’t know. What about you?’
‘Me?’ he exhaled. ‘No, no…Sorry what were you saying?’
‘Are you crazy about the whole external beauty thing?’ she repeated.
‘Oh…right’ he took another drag. ‘No, no…not really…but erm…you know…erm…I still feel bad if I cut myself when I shave…or you know…if I pissed on my pants…things like that’
‘What?’ she made a laugh. ‘Do you still piss on your pants?’
‘Huh?’ he tried to hear what she has just said. ‘What?’
‘Do you still piss on your pants?’ she giggled.
‘Yah’ he said. ‘Isn’t that common?’
‘Is that common?’ she tilted herself back to the normal sitting position. ‘Do guys piss on themselves on the time?’
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
The Runner (Part Two)
‘Do you know Catholaphia?’ he took a sip of the coffee.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Catholaphia’ he put down his coffee.’ It's a disease, or a condition’
‘Uh huh…No I don’t, tell me what it is’ she took the phone cord between her fingers.
‘That’s just the official name for prank calling’ he reached out to his pack and pulled out a cigarette. ‘One out of every five people has it’ he lit the cigarette.
‘Prank calling’s okay, I mean’ she cleared her throat. ‘As long as you are talking sense, and not being sexual and all that’
‘Huh’ he took a drag and had a long exhale. ‘Have you ever got one of those calls?’
‘What? Prank calls?’ she giggled. ‘I am getting one right now’
‘No, I mean the ones not talking sense’ he turned his head toward the cat. The cat had just walk past the kitchen.
‘Hell no’ she made a nervous laugh. ‘But what we are talking here doesn’t make much sense either’
‘Huh’ he put down the cigarette on the ashtray and reached over to the brochure. ‘Have you seen the brochure?’
‘What?’ she said.
‘The brochure’ he said. ‘What brochure?’ she released the cord between her fingers.
‘The little booklet thing…’
‘I know what brochure means, but what brochure are you talking about here?’ she said it seriously.
‘The Befrienders’ brochure’ he said.
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘Is your face in it?’ he turned the pages looking for the picture he remembered seeing it somewhere.
‘Is my face in it?’ she turned to one of those brochures attached on the bulletin board.
‘Yah’ he picked up his cigarette and took a drag.
‘Is my face in the brochure?’ she said, still looking at the bulletin board.
‘You mean you haven’t seen it?’ he said.
‘No, no’ she removed her hair from the forehead. ‘I just didn’t have that question coming…Yah, yah...my face’s in it…why?’
‘Nothing’ he went closer to the picture printed on the brochure. ‘I just thought it would be funny if you happened to be one of the people in the brochure’
‘Why would it be funny?’ she leaned against the chair.
‘I don’t know’ he took another drag and still looking at the picture. ‘I guess it’s not funny…who took the picture?’
‘Who?’ she said. ‘ I don’t know, some guy from the art school or something, why?’
‘There’s no depth of field in the picture’ he flicked the cigarette’s ash. ‘And you guys look like you are posed’
‘We are posed’ she said. ‘We actually hit the marks he taped on the floor’
‘Well the thing is you shouldn’t’ he was still flickering the cigarette. ‘You shouldn’t look posed even if you are posed…It’s like how The Apprentice shouldn’t look scripted …even it’s scripted’
‘Is The Apprentice scripted?’ she leaned forward to the desk.
‘Yah’ he said. ‘Everything’s scripted…even the news are scripted’
‘Yah, I am aware of that’ she giggled. ‘But is The Apprentice scripted?’
‘Hell yah’ he took another drag. ‘The Survival is scripted, The Meaner is scripted, The Temptation Island is scripted, The Amazing Race is scripted…you know, all those stuffs are scripted’
‘Yah, but is The Apprentice scripted?’ she said. ‘Why would a guy like Donald Trump made a fool of himself?’
‘That’s not Donald Trump’ he drank his coffee. ‘That’s someone else playing Donald Trump’
‘Are you serious?’ she turned to one of her coworkers, as if she couldn’t wait to share the information with her. ‘That’s a ripped off…is that true?’
‘Yah’ he put down his coffee. ‘Everything’s a ripped off, basically’
‘I wish you hadn’t told me that’ she let her breath out. ‘Me and my colleague just bought the whole season 3, and we sort of think we’ll be watching after work today’
‘I wish I hadn’t told you that too’ he giggled as he put out the cigarette. He looked at the picture in the brochure again. ‘So which one is you?’
‘What?’ she was trying to make a sign to her colleague. But she didn’t notice.
‘Are you the one with the curly hair?’ he said.
‘You mean the picture in the brochure?’ she said. ‘No, that’s my colleague…she’s cute isn’t she?’
‘Yah’ he paused. ‘Thought that would be you’
‘I am sorry to kill your imagination’ she giggled. ‘I have quite curly hair when it’s dry’
‘But I don’t see anyone’s hair’s wet in the picture’ he said. ‘And there’s only one curly…so which one is you?’
‘Mine’s wet in the picture…’ she turned to the bulletin board again. ‘Not exactly wet, you know, greasy?’ she made a laugh.
‘Oh…’ he looked closer at the picture. ‘I can see what you are saying…’
‘What do you think?’ she chuckled.
‘What do I think what?’ he said.
‘Is that how you’d imagine me to be?’ she crossed her leg and let herself sank into the chair.
‘Not exactly’ he said.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Catholaphia’ he put down his coffee.’ It's a disease, or a condition’
‘Uh huh…No I don’t, tell me what it is’ she took the phone cord between her fingers.
‘That’s just the official name for prank calling’ he reached out to his pack and pulled out a cigarette. ‘One out of every five people has it’ he lit the cigarette.
‘Prank calling’s okay, I mean’ she cleared her throat. ‘As long as you are talking sense, and not being sexual and all that’
‘Huh’ he took a drag and had a long exhale. ‘Have you ever got one of those calls?’
‘What? Prank calls?’ she giggled. ‘I am getting one right now’
‘No, I mean the ones not talking sense’ he turned his head toward the cat. The cat had just walk past the kitchen.
‘Hell no’ she made a nervous laugh. ‘But what we are talking here doesn’t make much sense either’
‘Huh’ he put down the cigarette on the ashtray and reached over to the brochure. ‘Have you seen the brochure?’
‘What?’ she said.
‘The brochure’ he said. ‘What brochure?’ she released the cord between her fingers.
‘The little booklet thing…’
‘I know what brochure means, but what brochure are you talking about here?’ she said it seriously.
‘The Befrienders’ brochure’ he said.
‘Uh huh’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘Is your face in it?’ he turned the pages looking for the picture he remembered seeing it somewhere.
‘Is my face in it?’ she turned to one of those brochures attached on the bulletin board.
‘Yah’ he picked up his cigarette and took a drag.
‘Is my face in the brochure?’ she said, still looking at the bulletin board.
‘You mean you haven’t seen it?’ he said.
‘No, no’ she removed her hair from the forehead. ‘I just didn’t have that question coming…Yah, yah...my face’s in it…why?’
‘Nothing’ he went closer to the picture printed on the brochure. ‘I just thought it would be funny if you happened to be one of the people in the brochure’
‘Why would it be funny?’ she leaned against the chair.
‘I don’t know’ he took another drag and still looking at the picture. ‘I guess it’s not funny…who took the picture?’
‘Who?’ she said. ‘ I don’t know, some guy from the art school or something, why?’
‘There’s no depth of field in the picture’ he flicked the cigarette’s ash. ‘And you guys look like you are posed’
‘We are posed’ she said. ‘We actually hit the marks he taped on the floor’
‘Well the thing is you shouldn’t’ he was still flickering the cigarette. ‘You shouldn’t look posed even if you are posed…It’s like how The Apprentice shouldn’t look scripted …even it’s scripted’
‘Is The Apprentice scripted?’ she leaned forward to the desk.
‘Yah’ he said. ‘Everything’s scripted…even the news are scripted’
‘Yah, I am aware of that’ she giggled. ‘But is The Apprentice scripted?’
‘Hell yah’ he took another drag. ‘The Survival is scripted, The Meaner is scripted, The Temptation Island is scripted, The Amazing Race is scripted…you know, all those stuffs are scripted’
‘Yah, but is The Apprentice scripted?’ she said. ‘Why would a guy like Donald Trump made a fool of himself?’
‘That’s not Donald Trump’ he drank his coffee. ‘That’s someone else playing Donald Trump’
‘Are you serious?’ she turned to one of her coworkers, as if she couldn’t wait to share the information with her. ‘That’s a ripped off…is that true?’
‘Yah’ he put down his coffee. ‘Everything’s a ripped off, basically’
‘I wish you hadn’t told me that’ she let her breath out. ‘Me and my colleague just bought the whole season 3, and we sort of think we’ll be watching after work today’
‘I wish I hadn’t told you that too’ he giggled as he put out the cigarette. He looked at the picture in the brochure again. ‘So which one is you?’
‘What?’ she was trying to make a sign to her colleague. But she didn’t notice.
‘Are you the one with the curly hair?’ he said.
‘You mean the picture in the brochure?’ she said. ‘No, that’s my colleague…she’s cute isn’t she?’
‘Yah’ he paused. ‘Thought that would be you’
‘I am sorry to kill your imagination’ she giggled. ‘I have quite curly hair when it’s dry’
‘But I don’t see anyone’s hair’s wet in the picture’ he said. ‘And there’s only one curly…so which one is you?’
‘Mine’s wet in the picture…’ she turned to the bulletin board again. ‘Not exactly wet, you know, greasy?’ she made a laugh.
‘Oh…’ he looked closer at the picture. ‘I can see what you are saying…’
‘What do you think?’ she chuckled.
‘What do I think what?’ he said.
‘Is that how you’d imagine me to be?’ she crossed her leg and let herself sank into the chair.
‘Not exactly’ he said.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
The Runner (Part One)
One night in October, he was smoking one of his cigarettes. The radio was playing with the volume that could barely be heard. He had just fixed himself an instant coffee. He sat on the kitchen table, flipping through one of those brochures he picked up from the doorstep. It belongs to one of those community services called The Befrienders. They provide companionship, or rather ‘telecommunicationship’ when one is down. At the bottom of the page printed the numbers that looked a lot like +603 7956 8144. He put out the cigarette and pulled himself towards the phone.
‘Hi, The Befrienders, this is Jesse Bell speaking. How can I help you?’ a voice came through the receiver like it was pre recorded.
‘Hi …’ he said. ‘is this a toll free number?’
‘Yes, how can I help you?’ she said. She sounded like some kind of fresh grad with dark eyes, brown eyes and a thin body. That’s how he’d imagined it, of course.
‘I don’t know’ he said as he reached out to the pack sitting on the table. ‘I just can’t seem to be happy’
‘Uh huh’ she said and seemed to be waiting for him to go into detail.
‘Err…’ he pulled a stick of cigarette out of the pack.
‘Why don’t you tell me about yourself?’ she said.
‘Is that important?’ he said and he lit the cigarette. ‘No, no, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ she said. ‘Should I just call you Nick then?’
‘How did you get my name? Do you guys have one of those caller IDs?’ he put out his cigarette, and checked on the receiver.
‘What?’ she said.
‘How did you know my name?’ he reached across the table and flipped through the Befrienders brochure again.
‘I am sorry, is your name Nick?’ she said. ‘I was just guessing, or should I call you something else?’
‘No, its okay’ he was still flipping through the brochure. ‘You can call me Nick, it will be stupid if you call me something else.’
‘Okay’ she said and stopped.
‘Would you rather be calling me something else?’ he said as he pushed the brochure away.
‘No, I’ll call you whatever you want to be called.’ she said. ‘I mean, Mmm…nevermind’ she let her breath out.
‘No, no, go ahead.’ he covered his forehead with his palm. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, I won’t call you honey, or darling, or you know, anything like that’ she giggled.
‘Would you say anything like you love me?’ he crossed his legs as if he was in some kind of cheeky mood.
‘No, nothing like that either’ she said it seriously. ‘I am not here to say that kind of things’
‘What do you normally say?’ he picked up the cigarette from the ashtray.
‘We don’t normally say things, we listen’ she cleared her throat.
‘What do you usually hear then?’ he opened the drawer and pushed things around.
‘We hear things that normal people don’t want to hear’ she said. ‘Things that you find at the Q & A pullouts, you know’
‘Oh yah?’ he was still pushing things around the drawer. ’Shit’ he mumbled.
‘What?’ she raised her tone.
‘Nothing, I am looking for my lighter’ he lifted the newspapers on the kitchen table.
‘Are you trying to smoke?’ she said.
‘No, I am trying set my house on fire’ he said as he looked under the table.
‘Are you serious?’ she giggled. ‘Should I stop you then?’
‘If you want to’ he was still looking under the table.
‘I just don’t want my name to come out when they track down the last call you made before you set your house on fire’ she giggled and paused. She adjusted her bra into her comfort zone.
‘Have you found it?’ she asked.
‘You mean the lighter?’ he stood up and put his hand into the side pocket of his jeans. ‘Yah’ she said.
‘No’ he said. ‘Oh wait’ he turned and found the lighter sitting on the chair he was sitting on. ‘Yah, it slipped out from my pocket’ he said.
‘If you are going to set your house on fire I’ll hang up on you right now’ she said.
‘Aren’t you suppose to stop me?’ he giggled as he lit the cigarette.
‘That’s my way of stopping you’ she said. ‘Negative reinforcement that’s what they called’
‘Negative reinforcement isn’t good enough’ he exhaled. ‘They actually banned it in Russia’
She chuckled and repositioned her thigh on the chair.
‘So what do you do?’ she said.
‘Me? What do you mean?’ he flicked the cigarette’s ash into the ashtray.
‘What do you do for a living?’ she put her hair behind the ears.
He giggled. ‘I don't know’ he said. ‘A prank caller?’ he giggled again.
‘I thought so’ she chuckled. ‘Most callers don’t work, or can’t get work’
‘Huh’ he inhaled. ‘Poor callers’ he exhaled.
‘So what did you do before you become a prank caller?’ she giggled.
‘I was an athlete’ he said.
‘Oh yah, what kind?’ she said and leaned forward to rest her elbow on the desk.
‘The running type’ he said as he pushed the ashtray closer to him. ‘Runner, that’s what they called in Russia’
‘So who were you running for?’ she said.
‘Production houses, most of the time’ he said. ‘Occasionally I run for banks and insurance companies’
‘You mean you are like a dispatch?’ she said.
‘I mean I am like an athlete’ he giggled as he exhaled.
‘I don’t get it’ she said. ‘They hired you to run for them? Where do you run?’
‘Here and there’ he said. ‘Film sets, most of the time’
‘Dispatch Boy’ she said. ‘That’s what they called it here’
‘Yah, whatever’ he put out the cigarette.
‘You don’t sound very depressed like most people who called in’ she said. ‘I guess you are a prank caller’
‘In the eyes of the untrained…maybe’ he said. ‘But to a professional I am as sick as a dog’
‘Uh huh’ she giggled. ‘Tell me about it’
‘Hi, The Befrienders, this is Jesse Bell speaking. How can I help you?’ a voice came through the receiver like it was pre recorded.
‘Hi …’ he said. ‘is this a toll free number?’
‘Yes, how can I help you?’ she said. She sounded like some kind of fresh grad with dark eyes, brown eyes and a thin body. That’s how he’d imagined it, of course.
‘I don’t know’ he said as he reached out to the pack sitting on the table. ‘I just can’t seem to be happy’
‘Uh huh’ she said and seemed to be waiting for him to go into detail.
‘Err…’ he pulled a stick of cigarette out of the pack.
‘Why don’t you tell me about yourself?’ she said.
‘Is that important?’ he said and he lit the cigarette. ‘No, no, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ she said. ‘Should I just call you Nick then?’
‘How did you get my name? Do you guys have one of those caller IDs?’ he put out his cigarette, and checked on the receiver.
‘What?’ she said.
‘How did you know my name?’ he reached across the table and flipped through the Befrienders brochure again.
‘I am sorry, is your name Nick?’ she said. ‘I was just guessing, or should I call you something else?’
‘No, its okay’ he was still flipping through the brochure. ‘You can call me Nick, it will be stupid if you call me something else.’
‘Okay’ she said and stopped.
‘Would you rather be calling me something else?’ he said as he pushed the brochure away.
‘No, I’ll call you whatever you want to be called.’ she said. ‘I mean, Mmm…nevermind’ she let her breath out.
‘No, no, go ahead.’ he covered his forehead with his palm. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, I won’t call you honey, or darling, or you know, anything like that’ she giggled.
‘Would you say anything like you love me?’ he crossed his legs as if he was in some kind of cheeky mood.
‘No, nothing like that either’ she said it seriously. ‘I am not here to say that kind of things’
‘What do you normally say?’ he picked up the cigarette from the ashtray.
‘We don’t normally say things, we listen’ she cleared her throat.
‘What do you usually hear then?’ he opened the drawer and pushed things around.
‘We hear things that normal people don’t want to hear’ she said. ‘Things that you find at the Q & A pullouts, you know’
‘Oh yah?’ he was still pushing things around the drawer. ’Shit’ he mumbled.
‘What?’ she raised her tone.
‘Nothing, I am looking for my lighter’ he lifted the newspapers on the kitchen table.
‘Are you trying to smoke?’ she said.
‘No, I am trying set my house on fire’ he said as he looked under the table.
‘Are you serious?’ she giggled. ‘Should I stop you then?’
‘If you want to’ he was still looking under the table.
‘I just don’t want my name to come out when they track down the last call you made before you set your house on fire’ she giggled and paused. She adjusted her bra into her comfort zone.
‘Have you found it?’ she asked.
‘You mean the lighter?’ he stood up and put his hand into the side pocket of his jeans. ‘Yah’ she said.
‘No’ he said. ‘Oh wait’ he turned and found the lighter sitting on the chair he was sitting on. ‘Yah, it slipped out from my pocket’ he said.
‘If you are going to set your house on fire I’ll hang up on you right now’ she said.
‘Aren’t you suppose to stop me?’ he giggled as he lit the cigarette.
‘That’s my way of stopping you’ she said. ‘Negative reinforcement that’s what they called’
‘Negative reinforcement isn’t good enough’ he exhaled. ‘They actually banned it in Russia’
She chuckled and repositioned her thigh on the chair.
‘So what do you do?’ she said.
‘Me? What do you mean?’ he flicked the cigarette’s ash into the ashtray.
‘What do you do for a living?’ she put her hair behind the ears.
He giggled. ‘I don't know’ he said. ‘A prank caller?’ he giggled again.
‘I thought so’ she chuckled. ‘Most callers don’t work, or can’t get work’
‘Huh’ he inhaled. ‘Poor callers’ he exhaled.
‘So what did you do before you become a prank caller?’ she giggled.
‘I was an athlete’ he said.
‘Oh yah, what kind?’ she said and leaned forward to rest her elbow on the desk.
‘The running type’ he said as he pushed the ashtray closer to him. ‘Runner, that’s what they called in Russia’
‘So who were you running for?’ she said.
‘Production houses, most of the time’ he said. ‘Occasionally I run for banks and insurance companies’
‘You mean you are like a dispatch?’ she said.
‘I mean I am like an athlete’ he giggled as he exhaled.
‘I don’t get it’ she said. ‘They hired you to run for them? Where do you run?’
‘Here and there’ he said. ‘Film sets, most of the time’
‘Dispatch Boy’ she said. ‘That’s what they called it here’
‘Yah, whatever’ he put out the cigarette.
‘You don’t sound very depressed like most people who called in’ she said. ‘I guess you are a prank caller’
‘In the eyes of the untrained…maybe’ he said. ‘But to a professional I am as sick as a dog’
‘Uh huh’ she giggled. ‘Tell me about it’
How To Build A Doghouse In Dumbville?
You know some people are just born to do bigger things in life when Algilby De Van Goyar said he is going to spend his entire savings to build a doghouse. The doghouse would be so big that he claimed, would shock the folks in his beloved town. And probably the town next to it, and the one next to the one next to it. It will be the biggest thing ever happens in his beloved town. Bigger than when Econ Mart first opened its franchise. Bigger than when 3400 pandas crossed the town to protest against the organization that stole their image for logo. Bigger than when Jesus learned to walk. Bigger than when he borrowed the ‘how to build a doghouse’ textbook from you. Bigger than when he said he was going to return the ‘how to build a doghouse’ textbook to you. Bigger than when you phoned and specifically asked him to return the ‘how to build a doghouse’ textbook.
And to build the biggest doghouse in the history of mankind, Algilby De Van Goyar has to spend more than his entire savings. He needs favors. He needs extra generosity from the suppliers who can give him extra pieces of wood without charging him. He needs extra sympathy from the crew who can give him extra hours of work without groaning, moaning and grieving. He needs extra talent from the caterer who can cook chicken into seven different dishes everyday for a month without the crew groaning, moaning and grieving. He needs extra brainlessness from the volunteers who can lift the heavy equipments that they shouldn’t be lifting in the first place without slowing down the production. He needs extra benevolence from Gods who can make the sun shines and the people happy without reincarnating him into some kind of low life like spiders, or guinea pigs, or giraffes, or rainbows.
But most of all, Algilby De Van Goyar needs extra miracle from you don’t know who, or where or what, a dog that is so big, bigger than everything that was said earlier, to fit in the biggest doghouse ever going to be built, without screwing the extra generosity, sympathy, talent, brainlessness and benevolence that everyone in his beloved town has given him.
Although you know it would be nice to wish him luck and all that kind stuffs, you wouldn’t.
And to build the biggest doghouse in the history of mankind, Algilby De Van Goyar has to spend more than his entire savings. He needs favors. He needs extra generosity from the suppliers who can give him extra pieces of wood without charging him. He needs extra sympathy from the crew who can give him extra hours of work without groaning, moaning and grieving. He needs extra talent from the caterer who can cook chicken into seven different dishes everyday for a month without the crew groaning, moaning and grieving. He needs extra brainlessness from the volunteers who can lift the heavy equipments that they shouldn’t be lifting in the first place without slowing down the production. He needs extra benevolence from Gods who can make the sun shines and the people happy without reincarnating him into some kind of low life like spiders, or guinea pigs, or giraffes, or rainbows.
But most of all, Algilby De Van Goyar needs extra miracle from you don’t know who, or where or what, a dog that is so big, bigger than everything that was said earlier, to fit in the biggest doghouse ever going to be built, without screwing the extra generosity, sympathy, talent, brainlessness and benevolence that everyone in his beloved town has given him.
Although you know it would be nice to wish him luck and all that kind stuffs, you wouldn’t.
The Man In Dumbville Decided He Had Enough
The man, named Boo Boo, lives alone in an apartment two blocks down Dumbville. He thought he would live in that apartment for the rest of his life, but now he regretted for having such thought. Although he knew that the neighbors, as often as it is, could be a little nasty and unfriendly when it comes to ‘living together’, he decided to move in anyway, thinking that God will always be on his side. But 16 months after he moved in, he knew that his calculation has gone terribly wrong.
First, he was fired from work. Sending his monthly bill $795 more than he could afford. Boo Boo was not totally troubled by this, as he thought he could always get another job. And so he did. But as bizarre as it was, the new workplace that he found, made him paid his own salary, sending his monthly bill $1905 more than he could afford. Knowing that he should probably be wiser than before, Boo Boo quit the weird place and thought how life hasn’t gone quite well for him. But thinking that God will always be on his side, Boo Boo went on to look for a job that would help him settle the bills, or as he sometimes had wished, cherishes his talents, or even embraces it. And how deceivingly a job came to him with the promise of becoming the thing that he has always wanted to be. By his math, he figured it would not just reduce the debt he owed, but also as childish as it sounded, a dream comes true. The time has quickly past without him realizing it. He has fixed the heater, the coffee maker, the photocopier, the binding machine, done his boss’s dirty laundry and stuffs that he could not be possibly put into words. On the other hand, the job that he has spent all his time and energy on, has not reduced the debt that he owed but sending his monthly bill $2875 more than he could afford. Boo Boo was saddened by this, for he cannot imagined how his math could have gone this wrong. He knew he had to go, for he could not afford the increase of the debt.
When all the things went wrong for Boo Boo, he has tried hard to keep himself in one piece. He knew that God would always come to him, for God is the one who has given him the talent. Like a prayer answered, the neighbors who he knew to be nasty and unfriendly before, were kind enough to show their sympathy to Boo Boo. They arranged a little gathering, and invited Boo Boo to be the guest of honor. The intention of the gathering as the neighbors has claimed, was to cherish and embrace Boo Boo’s genius in the township of Dumbville. Boo Boo knew that the day God shows his benevolence has finally landed. He had turned down jobs that could have settled his debts just to get ready for the presentation of a lifetime, for he thought nothing else in the world could have been more important than showing the thing that he has always wanted to show in the eyes of the Dumbville. Even when the monthly bill went up to $4609 than he could afford, Boo Boo was still concentrating on every details of the preparation.
Very little did he know, that the neighbors were having a different plan in their mind. The day finally arrived, when the gathering was called. When Boo Boo stood up to the stage and was ready to do his presentation of his lifetime, the neighbors raced up to the stage and stripped him naked. Boo Boo thought that the previous miseries he had are just tests that God has planned for him. But this time, he did not have it coming. It came to him like a lighting strike. He stood naked on the stage, while the neighbors were pointing and laughing at him. It was then he decided that he had enough. He will move out of the apartment, out of the town, out of Dumbville. But before he does that, he has to find someone to take over the apartment. If anyone thinks they could get it cheap, they are wrong. Because he would rather eats the furniture he has, than to sell it cheap.
First, he was fired from work. Sending his monthly bill $795 more than he could afford. Boo Boo was not totally troubled by this, as he thought he could always get another job. And so he did. But as bizarre as it was, the new workplace that he found, made him paid his own salary, sending his monthly bill $1905 more than he could afford. Knowing that he should probably be wiser than before, Boo Boo quit the weird place and thought how life hasn’t gone quite well for him. But thinking that God will always be on his side, Boo Boo went on to look for a job that would help him settle the bills, or as he sometimes had wished, cherishes his talents, or even embraces it. And how deceivingly a job came to him with the promise of becoming the thing that he has always wanted to be. By his math, he figured it would not just reduce the debt he owed, but also as childish as it sounded, a dream comes true. The time has quickly past without him realizing it. He has fixed the heater, the coffee maker, the photocopier, the binding machine, done his boss’s dirty laundry and stuffs that he could not be possibly put into words. On the other hand, the job that he has spent all his time and energy on, has not reduced the debt that he owed but sending his monthly bill $2875 more than he could afford. Boo Boo was saddened by this, for he cannot imagined how his math could have gone this wrong. He knew he had to go, for he could not afford the increase of the debt.
When all the things went wrong for Boo Boo, he has tried hard to keep himself in one piece. He knew that God would always come to him, for God is the one who has given him the talent. Like a prayer answered, the neighbors who he knew to be nasty and unfriendly before, were kind enough to show their sympathy to Boo Boo. They arranged a little gathering, and invited Boo Boo to be the guest of honor. The intention of the gathering as the neighbors has claimed, was to cherish and embrace Boo Boo’s genius in the township of Dumbville. Boo Boo knew that the day God shows his benevolence has finally landed. He had turned down jobs that could have settled his debts just to get ready for the presentation of a lifetime, for he thought nothing else in the world could have been more important than showing the thing that he has always wanted to show in the eyes of the Dumbville. Even when the monthly bill went up to $4609 than he could afford, Boo Boo was still concentrating on every details of the preparation.
Very little did he know, that the neighbors were having a different plan in their mind. The day finally arrived, when the gathering was called. When Boo Boo stood up to the stage and was ready to do his presentation of his lifetime, the neighbors raced up to the stage and stripped him naked. Boo Boo thought that the previous miseries he had are just tests that God has planned for him. But this time, he did not have it coming. It came to him like a lighting strike. He stood naked on the stage, while the neighbors were pointing and laughing at him. It was then he decided that he had enough. He will move out of the apartment, out of the town, out of Dumbville. But before he does that, he has to find someone to take over the apartment. If anyone thinks they could get it cheap, they are wrong. Because he would rather eats the furniture he has, than to sell it cheap.
Friday, December 02, 2005
And You Thought Your Hamster Is Crazy
You are sitting on the only couch you have in the living room. Although you have your own book to read, you find it hard to concentrate. You don’t see your hamster anywhere around the living room. You know she’s somewhere, that’s one thing. But you also know that she’s crazy. She might just come to you any moment and shows aggression against you, you think. Then the phone rings.
‘Daren?’ a familiar voice at the other end goes.
‘Frank?’ you don’t know what made you think that voice belongs to Frank but you say it anyway.
‘No, its me, Jezebel’ the familiar voice tells you her name.
‘Oh hi’ you wait. ‘How are you?’ you say.
‘Daren’ she stops.
You estimate a lengthy pause is happening. You are quite right, although you can never be so sure of yourself. You could hear her breath flooding in to the receiver. Woof! Woof! Woof! And you begin to panic and wonder if this is a prank call. But Jezebel has always been a decent woman and you find it hard to think that she would be a prank caller.
‘Am I a whore?’ she asks and you know you have to say ‘no’ although you know right away she has done something really wrong.
‘No, why?’ you want to know what kind of mess she is in. ‘You are breathing funny, are you okay?’
‘I don’t know. Do you think it’s okay if I break up with Matthew?’ she goes.
Although you never like Matthew, you will never put yourself in a position to be a bad person by selling her a divorce, but still you want to know what kind of mess she’s in. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’
‘I feel so awful, I don’t know, am I talking crazy?’ she talks like she’s a little intoxicated.
‘I am such a whore’ she continues. ‘No, no’ you try to interrupt. ‘No, don’t argue with me, I know I am a whore’ she raises her voice. ‘I’ve gone outside the marriage’ she mumbles. Bingo! You knew it, although you have to put your ear really close to the receiver to hear what she says.
‘Its true, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me’ she stops. And you stop.
‘How’s your hamster?’ she asks. ‘She’s okay’ you go. ‘Do you want me to talk to…’
‘Listen’ she catches up. ‘Do you remember the time you and Matthew went fishing?’
You remember. You spent the whole day not knowing what to say to Matthew, and you had to share one fishing rod with him. It was such a bad day and you damn well remember.
‘Ya, why?’ you go.
‘Can you do that again? This Saturday?’ she asks.
‘What?’ you are definitely caught in surprise. ‘Please, Daren!’ she begs.
‘I don’t know… they might …have something …going on ..at the… gym…’ you are mumbling and hope that she will get tired of hearing it and gives up on her plan.
‘Huh, what?’ she raises her voice. ‘I said.. they might have something going on at the gym this Saturday.’ You are mumbling less.
‘Ah, God, I’m sorry’ she says. ‘That’s all right’ and then she stops. Maybe she wants you to say something. But you couldn’t care less.
‘Can I use your place then?’ she is talking crazy, really. ‘Just once, you see, Matthew has his schedule, and Peter has his schedule, I am tired of …’
You stop listening. You have to. You look at the receiver, and you can still hear Jezebel talking at the other end. You don’t know if you are going to hang up on her. She’s the editor of an undisclosed magazine that you sort of like…err…like.
And you thought your hamster is crazy.
‘Daren?’ a familiar voice at the other end goes.
‘Frank?’ you don’t know what made you think that voice belongs to Frank but you say it anyway.
‘No, its me, Jezebel’ the familiar voice tells you her name.
‘Oh hi’ you wait. ‘How are you?’ you say.
‘Daren’ she stops.
You estimate a lengthy pause is happening. You are quite right, although you can never be so sure of yourself. You could hear her breath flooding in to the receiver. Woof! Woof! Woof! And you begin to panic and wonder if this is a prank call. But Jezebel has always been a decent woman and you find it hard to think that she would be a prank caller.
‘Am I a whore?’ she asks and you know you have to say ‘no’ although you know right away she has done something really wrong.
‘No, why?’ you want to know what kind of mess she is in. ‘You are breathing funny, are you okay?’
‘I don’t know. Do you think it’s okay if I break up with Matthew?’ she goes.
Although you never like Matthew, you will never put yourself in a position to be a bad person by selling her a divorce, but still you want to know what kind of mess she’s in. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’
‘I feel so awful, I don’t know, am I talking crazy?’ she talks like she’s a little intoxicated.
‘I am such a whore’ she continues. ‘No, no’ you try to interrupt. ‘No, don’t argue with me, I know I am a whore’ she raises her voice. ‘I’ve gone outside the marriage’ she mumbles. Bingo! You knew it, although you have to put your ear really close to the receiver to hear what she says.
‘Its true, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me’ she stops. And you stop.
‘How’s your hamster?’ she asks. ‘She’s okay’ you go. ‘Do you want me to talk to…’
‘Listen’ she catches up. ‘Do you remember the time you and Matthew went fishing?’
You remember. You spent the whole day not knowing what to say to Matthew, and you had to share one fishing rod with him. It was such a bad day and you damn well remember.
‘Ya, why?’ you go.
‘Can you do that again? This Saturday?’ she asks.
‘What?’ you are definitely caught in surprise. ‘Please, Daren!’ she begs.
‘I don’t know… they might …have something …going on ..at the… gym…’ you are mumbling and hope that she will get tired of hearing it and gives up on her plan.
‘Huh, what?’ she raises her voice. ‘I said.. they might have something going on at the gym this Saturday.’ You are mumbling less.
‘Ah, God, I’m sorry’ she says. ‘That’s all right’ and then she stops. Maybe she wants you to say something. But you couldn’t care less.
‘Can I use your place then?’ she is talking crazy, really. ‘Just once, you see, Matthew has his schedule, and Peter has his schedule, I am tired of …’
You stop listening. You have to. You look at the receiver, and you can still hear Jezebel talking at the other end. You don’t know if you are going to hang up on her. She’s the editor of an undisclosed magazine that you sort of like…err…like.
And you thought your hamster is crazy.
And You Thought They Just Wanted To Kiss
In Granville, there is this girl, and there is that girl. I’ve never heard of their real names. If anyone did, they are welcome to write in. They both come from different places. They have just rented an apartment. They have not known each other before they rented this apartment. Things look okay in the apartment, except that the heater only works when pushed against the kitchen door.
One cold winter night, this girl has just finished the drink that she has just spiked for herself. She hasn’t always been a good drinker, and there was no exception this time. So when that girl walked out from her room, she was surprised to see the tablecloth, kitchen utensils, wine bottles, cups, glasses and plates been cleared out from the closets. The TV, floor lamp, record player, shoe rack and the pillows on the sofa were scattered all over the hall.
Is everything okay? that girl said. She hasn’t seen this girl done anything like that.
This girl who was too drunk to hear what that girl has said, continued to dig the cotton out from the sofa. That girl looked at this girl and thought she probably should leave her alone. She walked past this girl and walked right into the bathroom, which was where she intended to go before she came out from her room. And then she did what she had to do in the bathroom.
And unexpectedly, this girl stopped digging the cotton out of the sofa. She turned towards the bathroom. She must have heard the toilet flush. That girl came down the hall smiling and pretended nothing happened. They looked at each other but none of them said anything. Then that girl who was too embarrassed to walk right into her room, acted as if she was interested in touching the curtain in the hall.
So, what are you trying to do with the sofa? that girl tried to make the situation less awkward.
I am helping the sofa to lose weight, this girl said.
That girl chuckled and said it was funny.
This girl bumped her head on the wall. Love is killing me, oh god, love is killing me…she said.
That girl who couldn’t be more shocked than how she was, dashed towards this girl. Why are you doing this to yourself? that girl said.
This girl started crying. It was the first time she cried since she has rented this apartment.
That girl pulled this girl into her chest like how they do it in the movie. She petted her.
I just want to love. I have so much love in me. I just want to…love, this girl said.
That girl thought this girl was talking crazy. In that moment, she could see the bruises left on this girl ‘s body. It was then she realized how much this girl wanted to love.
Kiss me, that girl said.
And you thought they just wanted to kiss. But in the end, they also wanted to see themselves naked.
One cold winter night, this girl has just finished the drink that she has just spiked for herself. She hasn’t always been a good drinker, and there was no exception this time. So when that girl walked out from her room, she was surprised to see the tablecloth, kitchen utensils, wine bottles, cups, glasses and plates been cleared out from the closets. The TV, floor lamp, record player, shoe rack and the pillows on the sofa were scattered all over the hall.
Is everything okay? that girl said. She hasn’t seen this girl done anything like that.
This girl who was too drunk to hear what that girl has said, continued to dig the cotton out from the sofa. That girl looked at this girl and thought she probably should leave her alone. She walked past this girl and walked right into the bathroom, which was where she intended to go before she came out from her room. And then she did what she had to do in the bathroom.
And unexpectedly, this girl stopped digging the cotton out of the sofa. She turned towards the bathroom. She must have heard the toilet flush. That girl came down the hall smiling and pretended nothing happened. They looked at each other but none of them said anything. Then that girl who was too embarrassed to walk right into her room, acted as if she was interested in touching the curtain in the hall.
So, what are you trying to do with the sofa? that girl tried to make the situation less awkward.
I am helping the sofa to lose weight, this girl said.
That girl chuckled and said it was funny.
This girl bumped her head on the wall. Love is killing me, oh god, love is killing me…she said.
That girl who couldn’t be more shocked than how she was, dashed towards this girl. Why are you doing this to yourself? that girl said.
This girl started crying. It was the first time she cried since she has rented this apartment.
That girl pulled this girl into her chest like how they do it in the movie. She petted her.
I just want to love. I have so much love in me. I just want to…love, this girl said.
That girl thought this girl was talking crazy. In that moment, she could see the bruises left on this girl ‘s body. It was then she realized how much this girl wanted to love.
Kiss me, that girl said.
And you thought they just wanted to kiss. But in the end, they also wanted to see themselves naked.
A Panda Called Panda (Part One)
It has gone terribly wrong. Yes it has. There’s this panda, I don’t think she has a name. But for the sake of the story, lets just call her Panda. Panda went for a walk in the forest the other day, and she has since then, lost her way. Nobody knows where she is, or where she has been to or where she is going to be.
Earlier that day, Panda took all the bamboo sticks left at home. Except for those that Father Panda and Mother Panda have secretly put in the freezer. They don’t normally do this, but perhaps it was their animal instinct that tells them that there is something fishy going on.
Before Panda went for a walk in the forest, she has acted peculiar. That is what Father Panda told one of the press people. But he thought it was okay, as Panda has acted peculiar before. Prior to the incident, Panda has said things that resemble the sound of ‘I love you’ in human language. But Father and Mother Panda considered that as one of the peculiar things that she usually does. Or perhaps in a moment or two, they did believe in what she said, although they did not know what it really means.
When asked why Panda has chosen to take a walk in the forest, in which isn’t normal for an animal like panda to do. Father Panda shuddered. He remained silent. At one point, he looked like he was going to cry. Did he not know, or he just didn’t want to talk to the press people? Or perhaps he was simply hungry because he hasn’t had any food prior to the press conference. And also the fact it takes 3 working days to defrost the bamboo sticks after they are taken out from the freezer.
What was Panda thinking when she walked out of the forest? Did she meet any humans? Did she become a human? Is she going to say peculiar things to the humans? What would the humans do to her? Is there something we can relate ourselves to this? Will we ever find out more about the panda?
If only the press can find out where Brother Panda is. He is said to know something.
Earlier that day, Panda took all the bamboo sticks left at home. Except for those that Father Panda and Mother Panda have secretly put in the freezer. They don’t normally do this, but perhaps it was their animal instinct that tells them that there is something fishy going on.
Before Panda went for a walk in the forest, she has acted peculiar. That is what Father Panda told one of the press people. But he thought it was okay, as Panda has acted peculiar before. Prior to the incident, Panda has said things that resemble the sound of ‘I love you’ in human language. But Father and Mother Panda considered that as one of the peculiar things that she usually does. Or perhaps in a moment or two, they did believe in what she said, although they did not know what it really means.
When asked why Panda has chosen to take a walk in the forest, in which isn’t normal for an animal like panda to do. Father Panda shuddered. He remained silent. At one point, he looked like he was going to cry. Did he not know, or he just didn’t want to talk to the press people? Or perhaps he was simply hungry because he hasn’t had any food prior to the press conference. And also the fact it takes 3 working days to defrost the bamboo sticks after they are taken out from the freezer.
What was Panda thinking when she walked out of the forest? Did she meet any humans? Did she become a human? Is she going to say peculiar things to the humans? What would the humans do to her? Is there something we can relate ourselves to this? Will we ever find out more about the panda?
If only the press can find out where Brother Panda is. He is said to know something.
Is It Possible That A Cat Can Write?
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Thursday, December 01, 2005
What Daren Said When He Was Trying To Seduce Me
Daren is the kind of guy who doesn’t look like who he actually is. Perhaps that is because of his unpleasant childhood. He does not like to talk about himself. But he did one time talk about his unpleasant childhood. I think that was the time when he wanted to seduce me.
I don’t really want to go the seducing part, because I am not kind of writer who writes for the sake of getting your attention. If I were that kind of writer I would have told you what kind of hairstyle Daren has, or what kind of car he drives, or what sort of shampoo he uses, or whether he goes to gym after work. But I didn’t, and that explains how I am not that phony kind of writer.
Having said that however, being a highly successful writer, I am inclined to tell you how he did it, why he did it, and did it work?
It happened two weeks ago. He picked me up to a dinner with his red Alfa Romeo with this really really short hair, and you can still smell the scent of the shampoo left in his hair. It smells like those shampoos they give you at the gym, which really makes sense because Daren is the kind of guy who goes to gym after work.
And what happened was, on the way home after the dinner, I wanted him to give me some suggestion on what kind of shampoo that really suits my hair. The next thing I became aware of is that there is something ‘touching’ in the suggestion. I couldn’t help but to bring out a certain issue that could stop being ‘touched’ by his suggestion. And one of the things that I happened to bring up was his childhood. Daren did not take an interest at first. But maybe he became conscious of how insisting I was and believed that that was all I wanted to know, and so he talked about his unpleasant childhood.
Daren’s childhood belongs to the category in which loneliness is the dominant theme. It is like watching a bird died when one is infected with bird flu. Like one time, he actually choked on the soda he drank when he could have chose to have a cup of coffee. Daren’s childhood was so sad that it has the power to invite its listener to share its sadness.
The side effect of coming so close with Daren’s unpleasant childhood is that we started to understand that it was only eleven at night. The rest of it felt like marinating yourself in a pool of shampoo.
I don’t really want to go the seducing part, because I am not kind of writer who writes for the sake of getting your attention. If I were that kind of writer I would have told you what kind of hairstyle Daren has, or what kind of car he drives, or what sort of shampoo he uses, or whether he goes to gym after work. But I didn’t, and that explains how I am not that phony kind of writer.
Having said that however, being a highly successful writer, I am inclined to tell you how he did it, why he did it, and did it work?
It happened two weeks ago. He picked me up to a dinner with his red Alfa Romeo with this really really short hair, and you can still smell the scent of the shampoo left in his hair. It smells like those shampoos they give you at the gym, which really makes sense because Daren is the kind of guy who goes to gym after work.
And what happened was, on the way home after the dinner, I wanted him to give me some suggestion on what kind of shampoo that really suits my hair. The next thing I became aware of is that there is something ‘touching’ in the suggestion. I couldn’t help but to bring out a certain issue that could stop being ‘touched’ by his suggestion. And one of the things that I happened to bring up was his childhood. Daren did not take an interest at first. But maybe he became conscious of how insisting I was and believed that that was all I wanted to know, and so he talked about his unpleasant childhood.
Daren’s childhood belongs to the category in which loneliness is the dominant theme. It is like watching a bird died when one is infected with bird flu. Like one time, he actually choked on the soda he drank when he could have chose to have a cup of coffee. Daren’s childhood was so sad that it has the power to invite its listener to share its sadness.
The side effect of coming so close with Daren’s unpleasant childhood is that we started to understand that it was only eleven at night. The rest of it felt like marinating yourself in a pool of shampoo.
Things Can Be Quite Different At Night
They say, at night, things can be different. You didn’t believe when they told you this. But now, at this moment, you could not find a better reason to disagree. You wonder why. You have never felt this sad prior to this moment. It wasn’t very long ago that you talked to your mother on the phone with the funny tone, in which only happens when you are in a decent mood. But how things have changed since the sun went down.
Is it because of the food you have eaten? You are never quite sure. Is it because of the air you breathe? You doubt. Is it because of the song called ‘ Song For Whoever’ that you heard? It’s a very catchy song and it can’t seem to get out of your head. But can it be the reason? You don’t think so. Is it because that you have not done your laundry in a week? Although it will be nice to have it done, but can you guarantee that they won’t get dirty again ever? You cannot guarantee. Is it because of the cat? She has not gone to sleep and you don’t know when that will happen. But why would you be sad over a cat? Is it because of the woman who left her garbage in front of your door? Although it isn’t a right thing to do, but wouldn’t it be silly to feel sad over the woman who happens to live with you?
They always ask themselves why, when they feel sad. Will it help if they ever find out what makes them sad? You thought they were morons. But now you begin to understand. Sadness is like eye infection. It started with one eye and then it infects the other. Sadness is like eye infection. You have to fight with your immune system. Sadness is like eye infection. Find out the cause and avoid it. Sadness is like eye infection. It is quite possible that it can make you blind. Sadness is like eye infection. It gets really irritating at night.
Is it because of the food you have eaten? You are never quite sure. Is it because of the air you breathe? You doubt. Is it because of the song called ‘ Song For Whoever’ that you heard? It’s a very catchy song and it can’t seem to get out of your head. But can it be the reason? You don’t think so. Is it because that you have not done your laundry in a week? Although it will be nice to have it done, but can you guarantee that they won’t get dirty again ever? You cannot guarantee. Is it because of the cat? She has not gone to sleep and you don’t know when that will happen. But why would you be sad over a cat? Is it because of the woman who left her garbage in front of your door? Although it isn’t a right thing to do, but wouldn’t it be silly to feel sad over the woman who happens to live with you?
They always ask themselves why, when they feel sad. Will it help if they ever find out what makes them sad? You thought they were morons. But now you begin to understand. Sadness is like eye infection. It started with one eye and then it infects the other. Sadness is like eye infection. You have to fight with your immune system. Sadness is like eye infection. Find out the cause and avoid it. Sadness is like eye infection. It is quite possible that it can make you blind. Sadness is like eye infection. It gets really irritating at night.
What Is Wrong With Frank?
Have I told you about Melissa? The cat that lives with the ex-ice cream scooper two blocks down Granville. No? Maybe you were fooling around with me then. Well, fine! I didn’t think you were like them. Guess I was wrong. Anyway, I just found out that Melissa has left me a little note on my doorstep that says:
Dear Mindy,
I am hungry. I haven’t been eating since Frank gaffer taped something pink and furry on my tail. Although I’ve been chasing my tail to find out what it is, I could only assume that it is something pink and furry. I am afraid it is now beyond hope to find out what it is.
Frank chuckles every time he sees me. It really pisses me off. I tried asking the fishes but they were all hiding behind the rocks. It was then I realized it was their mating season. In the end, I have come to you because I know Frank likes you, and would certainly not pretend like no one’s at home when someone like you knock on the door.
It will be very nice of you if you can just come over and spray me pink. Because that is the only way to make that something pink and furry looks disappeared. It will also be nice if you can bring some cat food with you. If you are in the mating season yourself, don’t bother to come in, just leave the stuffs at the porch. Unless you consider Frank your mating partner.
I look forward seeing you here. Thank you, I appreciate it.
Love
Melissa
P/S : Please try to keep this matter as quiet as possible.
This is Frank’s handwriting. I recognized it right away. I find it hard to believe, Frank, who used to scoop me the ice cream that nearly killed me, has plotted to kill me in such a way that Melissa would be scapegoated in the end. What is wrong with Frank?
Dear Mindy,
I am hungry. I haven’t been eating since Frank gaffer taped something pink and furry on my tail. Although I’ve been chasing my tail to find out what it is, I could only assume that it is something pink and furry. I am afraid it is now beyond hope to find out what it is.
Frank chuckles every time he sees me. It really pisses me off. I tried asking the fishes but they were all hiding behind the rocks. It was then I realized it was their mating season. In the end, I have come to you because I know Frank likes you, and would certainly not pretend like no one’s at home when someone like you knock on the door.
It will be very nice of you if you can just come over and spray me pink. Because that is the only way to make that something pink and furry looks disappeared. It will also be nice if you can bring some cat food with you. If you are in the mating season yourself, don’t bother to come in, just leave the stuffs at the porch. Unless you consider Frank your mating partner.
I look forward seeing you here. Thank you, I appreciate it.
Love
Melissa
P/S : Please try to keep this matter as quiet as possible.
This is Frank’s handwriting. I recognized it right away. I find it hard to believe, Frank, who used to scoop me the ice cream that nearly killed me, has plotted to kill me in such a way that Melissa would be scapegoated in the end. What is wrong with Frank?
You Are The Only One Who Can Save Frank’s Ice Cream Career
Frank is an ice cream scooper in his beloved town. During Frank’s days, everybody knew him there. Everybody wanted to have his or hers ice cream scooped by Frank. But until one day in July, after giving Mindy a scoop of peanuts flavored ice cream in which she’s allergic to, Frank was no longer the ice cream scooper that he once was. The people in his beloved town have since stop wanting Frank to scoop ice cream for them.
And now, 16 years from the disaster, Frank is yet to find work in his beloved town. He had tried to re-start his ice cream scooping career. But failed, as no ice cream company would want to hire him because of what he did to Mindy. Even when they did hire him, they made Frank pays his own salary. The other ice cream scoopers would also make fun of Frank at work. i.e. They acted as if Mindy was choking and dying in front of Frank.
‘Frank could have gone for another kind of work,’ if you are someone who likes to give opinions. But bear in mind that ice cream scooping is what Frank has always wanted to do, more than anything else in the world. Did you know that he even took part in the annual ice cream scooping competition? Every year, the winner of the competition would be awarded a chance to make a scoop of ice cream for the president of the country that was randomly chosen from the map. Although Frank was good enough to win the competition, the award ceremony was cancelled due to bad weather.
Frank doesn’t know how long it has been since he last scooped an ice cream. He tried to put himself together at times, but it did not work as well as you would imagine. We welcome you to write hate mails to the ASSOCIATION OF ICE CREAM SCOOPING, in support of Frank’s undeserved treatment in this business.
And now, 16 years from the disaster, Frank is yet to find work in his beloved town. He had tried to re-start his ice cream scooping career. But failed, as no ice cream company would want to hire him because of what he did to Mindy. Even when they did hire him, they made Frank pays his own salary. The other ice cream scoopers would also make fun of Frank at work. i.e. They acted as if Mindy was choking and dying in front of Frank.
‘Frank could have gone for another kind of work,’ if you are someone who likes to give opinions. But bear in mind that ice cream scooping is what Frank has always wanted to do, more than anything else in the world. Did you know that he even took part in the annual ice cream scooping competition? Every year, the winner of the competition would be awarded a chance to make a scoop of ice cream for the president of the country that was randomly chosen from the map. Although Frank was good enough to win the competition, the award ceremony was cancelled due to bad weather.
Frank doesn’t know how long it has been since he last scooped an ice cream. He tried to put himself together at times, but it did not work as well as you would imagine. We welcome you to write hate mails to the ASSOCIATION OF ICE CREAM SCOOPING, in support of Frank’s undeserved treatment in this business.
Monday, November 28, 2005
You Are The Only One Who Can Make Melissa Feels Good About Herself
Melissa is a cat. She has not felt good about herself lately. She is tired of life. She felt pain on her chest, as if an elephant just sat on her. But why? She couldn’t say. Some say she wants to spend more time alone.
She has perhaps spent too much of her time with her owner, an Ice Cream Scooper who can’t find work.
She used to find him cute, but now she finds it hard to be stimulated in front of his cuteness.
Tonight, at this moment, Melissa is starring out of the window. She prays that when the sun rises, the owner will be at work. She has been praying that for the past 16 years. It never came true.
If you happen to see a cat starring out of the window, please pray with her. Or if she managed to break the window and run away, please don’t give her owner a call. He can be reached at +6012 719 2589. But don’t call the owner, I think his name is Frank. That’s the only way Melissa can feel good about herself.
She has perhaps spent too much of her time with her owner, an Ice Cream Scooper who can’t find work.
She used to find him cute, but now she finds it hard to be stimulated in front of his cuteness.
Tonight, at this moment, Melissa is starring out of the window. She prays that when the sun rises, the owner will be at work. She has been praying that for the past 16 years. It never came true.
If you happen to see a cat starring out of the window, please pray with her. Or if she managed to break the window and run away, please don’t give her owner a call. He can be reached at +6012 719 2589. But don’t call the owner, I think his name is Frank. That’s the only way Melissa can feel good about herself.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
The Elephant That Pounds On The Photocopier
Matthew was thrilled when his trainee told him that there was noise coming out from the photocopier. And it sounded like an elephant thumping on it.
Matthew nodded and laughed. He knew that was a stupid thing that only morons of certain age would believe, that kind of age when you assume you are gay because you think there is always a chance to become straight later on in life.
‘Very well, it’s about time it does that’ he sarcastically chuckled.
The trainee cautiously put down the coffee on his desk. Matthew looked up to his trainee. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty four’ the trainee said.
He grinned. ‘I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young.’
The trainee went red in the face.
‘You know, chances like promotion doesn’t come very often’ Matthew tilted his chair.
The trainee nodded and he looked worried.
‘I was once at your age, you know.’ Matthew kept tilting his chair. ‘I know what people of your age think’. He bit his lips as he continued tilting his chair. ‘I thought I wanted a career when I was at your age, but it turned out…’ He chuckled again.
‘I think… we should do something…with the photocopier’ the trainee tried to alarm his superior. ‘It sounds like an elephant thumping on it’
‘Interesting, what are you going to do about it?’ Matthew finished titling his chair and his zipper was left open. The trainee was lost in thought.
‘Ahhhhhhhh !’ The trainee dashed out of the office screaming.
Matthew shuddered as he took a sip on his coffee.
‘Looks like the screw-up fairy has visited us again’ it sighed.
‘I’ll try being nicer next time’ said Matthew. ‘Do you want me to call Derek?’
‘Who?’ it asked.
‘Derek, the guy who fixes the photocopiers’ said Matthew as he tried to zip up his pants.
‘How about never? Is never good for you?’ it went back in with anger.
Matthew didn’t want to mess up with it anymore. He didn’t call Derek, and so the mysterious elephant continued to pound on the photocopier.
Matthew nodded and laughed. He knew that was a stupid thing that only morons of certain age would believe, that kind of age when you assume you are gay because you think there is always a chance to become straight later on in life.
‘Very well, it’s about time it does that’ he sarcastically chuckled.
The trainee cautiously put down the coffee on his desk. Matthew looked up to his trainee. ‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty four’ the trainee said.
He grinned. ‘I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young.’
The trainee went red in the face.
‘You know, chances like promotion doesn’t come very often’ Matthew tilted his chair.
The trainee nodded and he looked worried.
‘I was once at your age, you know.’ Matthew kept tilting his chair. ‘I know what people of your age think’. He bit his lips as he continued tilting his chair. ‘I thought I wanted a career when I was at your age, but it turned out…’ He chuckled again.
‘I think… we should do something…with the photocopier’ the trainee tried to alarm his superior. ‘It sounds like an elephant thumping on it’
‘Interesting, what are you going to do about it?’ Matthew finished titling his chair and his zipper was left open. The trainee was lost in thought.
‘Ahhhhhhhh !’ The trainee dashed out of the office screaming.
Matthew shuddered as he took a sip on his coffee.
‘Looks like the screw-up fairy has visited us again’ it sighed.
‘I’ll try being nicer next time’ said Matthew. ‘Do you want me to call Derek?’
‘Who?’ it asked.
‘Derek, the guy who fixes the photocopiers’ said Matthew as he tried to zip up his pants.
‘How about never? Is never good for you?’ it went back in with anger.
Matthew didn’t want to mess up with it anymore. He didn’t call Derek, and so the mysterious elephant continued to pound on the photocopier.
Friday, November 25, 2005
She Wasn't Aware That She Was In A Dream When She Dreamt
How strange it was that one day Natzuki had a really bad dream. Because she usually has the good ones. Perhaps it was because she has just got a job at the gift shop, which is extremely demanding. You wouldn’t know if you haven’t work in a gift shop before. They label everything in the store with the ONCE BROKEN CONSIDER SOLD yellow sticker. So Natzuki cannot afford to lose a bit of her concentration when she’s at work. That makes her time at work a traumatic experience.
That morning, 4 and half hours after Natzuki went to sleep, she wasn’t aware that she was in a dream. She spotted her boy friend, I think his name is Tomo, at the public library. Natzuki was worried, because this had never happened before. Was he sick? We don’t know. So Natzuki moved closer to Tomo, and she saw him reading a women magazine with a girl, who we will never know. Natzuki stood right in front of them politely, but her good manner was totally unnoticed.
She felt angry at Tomo who’s done this to her. He was so cold. Natzuki tried to give him the beating of his life but she couldn’t. She wasn’t entirely clear that why she couldn’t, so she cried. They’d just recently started talking about the plan to go the Caribbean Sea for summer, but now he’s reading a women magazine with a girl in the public library. Natzuki thought that it was difficult to believe.
It wasn’t easy for the couples to satisfy each other, but she felt that their love was becoming solid. But now everything seemed to fall apart. What would she do for the summer? It is too late to rent a cabin as they are normally booked months before summer. Even if she managed to rent one, there really isn’t anyone to go with. She cried harder. She hoped that everything was just a dream, and when she wakes up in the morning, Tomo would be sleeping right beside her.
And it worked out the way Natzuki had wanted it to be. She woke up in the morning with tears in her eyes, and perhaps, a decision to quit working at the gift shop.
That morning, 4 and half hours after Natzuki went to sleep, she wasn’t aware that she was in a dream. She spotted her boy friend, I think his name is Tomo, at the public library. Natzuki was worried, because this had never happened before. Was he sick? We don’t know. So Natzuki moved closer to Tomo, and she saw him reading a women magazine with a girl, who we will never know. Natzuki stood right in front of them politely, but her good manner was totally unnoticed.
She felt angry at Tomo who’s done this to her. He was so cold. Natzuki tried to give him the beating of his life but she couldn’t. She wasn’t entirely clear that why she couldn’t, so she cried. They’d just recently started talking about the plan to go the Caribbean Sea for summer, but now he’s reading a women magazine with a girl in the public library. Natzuki thought that it was difficult to believe.
It wasn’t easy for the couples to satisfy each other, but she felt that their love was becoming solid. But now everything seemed to fall apart. What would she do for the summer? It is too late to rent a cabin as they are normally booked months before summer. Even if she managed to rent one, there really isn’t anyone to go with. She cried harder. She hoped that everything was just a dream, and when she wakes up in the morning, Tomo would be sleeping right beside her.
And it worked out the way Natzuki had wanted it to be. She woke up in the morning with tears in her eyes, and perhaps, a decision to quit working at the gift shop.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Tokyo Story
When Jack told Sachiko that he wanted he to be with her for the rest of his life, she didn’t think it was a lie. In fact, it would have been wrong to think so as she knew how often she had been right before. She’s had known Jack for several years, first as his friend, then a closer friend, and then a really close friend, and then a really close friend who occasionally kiss, and now as an odd companion. She has always been charmed of how witty Jack is, and how clearly he knows when she wants to snuggle, which exceedingly excited her, as she was brought up in such way that she shouldn’t be compulsive when it comes to snuggling and so forth.
So when Sachiko was told to be back to Tokyo, she wanted to know if Jack would like to come along. Even though Jack has enough sense of humor and technical twists to keep Sachiko in amused, he felt that he had to say something more persuasive to make her stay, when she asked him if he would like to go Tokyo. He was aware of what he was going to say might be repentant for the rest of his life. But he did it anyway as he thought that it was only right to say so under such circumstances. Or perhaps, as he once claimed, a little under the influence.
As it turned out, his decision was right after all. Or rather it was wrong, depends on whoever you might be backing. Therefore, when Sachiko went back to Toyko, she filled up a form that made Jack an English teacher in Tokyo today. Like many of us, Jack’s ambition to be something different has vanished, and would not be back, not in a city like Tokyo.
As clearly as it was stated at the beginning the story, Sachiko did not think it was a lie when Jack told him that he wanted to be her for the rest of her life. And she still doesn’t. In their life later on, as it often has before, Sachiko would call Jack at the school he teaches English, just to hear the things that come out of Jack’s mouth. Especially the kind that urges to be heard one day, then reheard.
Whatever you might be expecting, there’s no ending for this odd couples just yet.
So when Sachiko was told to be back to Tokyo, she wanted to know if Jack would like to come along. Even though Jack has enough sense of humor and technical twists to keep Sachiko in amused, he felt that he had to say something more persuasive to make her stay, when she asked him if he would like to go Tokyo. He was aware of what he was going to say might be repentant for the rest of his life. But he did it anyway as he thought that it was only right to say so under such circumstances. Or perhaps, as he once claimed, a little under the influence.
As it turned out, his decision was right after all. Or rather it was wrong, depends on whoever you might be backing. Therefore, when Sachiko went back to Toyko, she filled up a form that made Jack an English teacher in Tokyo today. Like many of us, Jack’s ambition to be something different has vanished, and would not be back, not in a city like Tokyo.
As clearly as it was stated at the beginning the story, Sachiko did not think it was a lie when Jack told him that he wanted to be her for the rest of her life. And she still doesn’t. In their life later on, as it often has before, Sachiko would call Jack at the school he teaches English, just to hear the things that come out of Jack’s mouth. Especially the kind that urges to be heard one day, then reheard.
Whatever you might be expecting, there’s no ending for this odd couples just yet.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Can You Make Up Your Mind?
You felt bad the whole day when you heard that you weren’t asked to contribute a piece of your work to the magazine that you sort of like…err…like. You have worked so hard on the article for the past few weeks, to the point that the article had become friendlier and friendlier every time you read it. Even the title of the article itself was written in a foreign language before it was translated back to your native word. And it was then polished, and proof read by one of your buddies who thought, and still thinks that it is probably the best title ever written in the history of the magazine that you sort of like…err…like.
And now, you find the article with the best title sitting on your desk, minute by minute, ever more an unpleasant sight. It was such an ugly thing that it would only be right to set fire on it. You were then stunned that the lighter that can be found in the third drawer from the bottom of the second cubicle behind the second bookshelf, wasn’t there. It was then you were reminded that it has been chucked away at the shopping mall after you decided to quit smoking, and before you made a remark of yourself being stupid.
You are a bad person, you thought. But the truth is that you are not just a bad person, you are also fat. There never was a time that you can recall, that you needed a cigarette ever more than this. ‘First, you wanted to set fire on the article. Then you wanted to have a cigarette because you think you are fat. Make up your mind.’ you said to yourself.
In the moment of truth, you finally came to understand why writers, so often lonely, can not make up their mind. You felt good because there’s finally something you can associate yourself with them. You felt good even you had not made up your mind. You felt good even you know the magazine that you sort of like…err…like, will not send you a free copy at the end of the month as the contribution of a piece of your work.
And now, you find the article with the best title sitting on your desk, minute by minute, ever more an unpleasant sight. It was such an ugly thing that it would only be right to set fire on it. You were then stunned that the lighter that can be found in the third drawer from the bottom of the second cubicle behind the second bookshelf, wasn’t there. It was then you were reminded that it has been chucked away at the shopping mall after you decided to quit smoking, and before you made a remark of yourself being stupid.
You are a bad person, you thought. But the truth is that you are not just a bad person, you are also fat. There never was a time that you can recall, that you needed a cigarette ever more than this. ‘First, you wanted to set fire on the article. Then you wanted to have a cigarette because you think you are fat. Make up your mind.’ you said to yourself.
In the moment of truth, you finally came to understand why writers, so often lonely, can not make up their mind. You felt good because there’s finally something you can associate yourself with them. You felt good even you had not made up your mind. You felt good even you know the magazine that you sort of like…err…like, will not send you a free copy at the end of the month as the contribution of a piece of your work.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
There Was This Guy Who Felt He Had An Foreign Object In His Eyes
There was this guy, I think his name is Jamie, who felt that he had an foreign object in his eyes. Jamie didn’t like it and thought he should do something about it. At the beginning, he thought that he could just write something about it since he had a pen and a piece of paper in which he had not known what to do with for a long period of time.
It took him an awful long time to write. Why? Because there was this guy, I don’t think I know his name, who text Jamie over and over again on his cell telling him how helpless he was, and how tough it was to unlock the second lower deck on the closet, and how he had been able to locked it before and how he has had put the camera in, and how expensive the camera was, in which he really could have just called on the phone.
The text came really slow one after another, and so the foreign object that Jamie felt he had in his eyes started moving. Jamie looked like he had been crying for days. Both Jamie’s eyes were red and swollen, but he could not recalled any moment that he had cried. Jamie got really worried and insulted the phone before he smashed the keypad with his palm twice.
Jamie then went to the internet and took a test called ‘Why do I feel like I have foreign object in my eyes?’ It was created by American Optometric Association.
These were the questions:
1. Do you have itchy, red, swollen, watery eyes or eyelids? Yes or No.
2. Did the symptoms start in both eyes at the same time? Yes or No.
3. Do you experience the symptoms during just the spring or summer months? Yes or No.
4. Do you have any of the above symptoms throughout the year? Yes or No.
5. Do you have a sensitivity to light, thicker eye discharge, or are your eyelids glued shut when you wake? Yes or No.
Jamie hit the ‘submit’ button after he had answered the questions.
'You may have the infectious type, commonly called ‘pink eyes’. It cannot be treated by antibiotics. It has to be fought off by the body immune system. A good way to treat it is to find out what the cause is, and avoid it. Thank You for taking the test.' said the computer.
Please send your letter to God as Jamie is now fighting off the virus using the body immune system that barely functions. If you happened to know the cause of Jamie’s unfortunate condition, you may also text him. He can be reached at +6012 – 7040360.
It took him an awful long time to write. Why? Because there was this guy, I don’t think I know his name, who text Jamie over and over again on his cell telling him how helpless he was, and how tough it was to unlock the second lower deck on the closet, and how he had been able to locked it before and how he has had put the camera in, and how expensive the camera was, in which he really could have just called on the phone.
The text came really slow one after another, and so the foreign object that Jamie felt he had in his eyes started moving. Jamie looked like he had been crying for days. Both Jamie’s eyes were red and swollen, but he could not recalled any moment that he had cried. Jamie got really worried and insulted the phone before he smashed the keypad with his palm twice.
Jamie then went to the internet and took a test called ‘Why do I feel like I have foreign object in my eyes?’ It was created by American Optometric Association.
These were the questions:
1. Do you have itchy, red, swollen, watery eyes or eyelids? Yes or No.
2. Did the symptoms start in both eyes at the same time? Yes or No.
3. Do you experience the symptoms during just the spring or summer months? Yes or No.
4. Do you have any of the above symptoms throughout the year? Yes or No.
5. Do you have a sensitivity to light, thicker eye discharge, or are your eyelids glued shut when you wake? Yes or No.
Jamie hit the ‘submit’ button after he had answered the questions.
'You may have the infectious type, commonly called ‘pink eyes’. It cannot be treated by antibiotics. It has to be fought off by the body immune system. A good way to treat it is to find out what the cause is, and avoid it. Thank You for taking the test.' said the computer.
Please send your letter to God as Jamie is now fighting off the virus using the body immune system that barely functions. If you happened to know the cause of Jamie’s unfortunate condition, you may also text him. He can be reached at +6012 – 7040360.
Monday, November 21, 2005
When They Told Him That The Giant Squid Will Be Animated
When they told him that the giant squid will be animated, he hasn’t had any coffee prior to that. You know it was going to be a very bad day for him. To make the day worse, they also told him that the coffee machine in which has broken down a couple of days ago, would continue to be in its state until the new intern arrived.
There was little time for contemplation. He had to deal with the giant squid before he could start thinking about the coffee machine, or to be more precise, the intern.
‘I need a squid, there is no way it can be animated’ he tried befriending the people who told him that the giant squid will be animated. ‘I know how bad is this going to be’ the guy claimed, ‘but there’s very little we can do, you don’t get squids during the raining season, and they are not going to push the shoot any further’
‘I can always throw in my own money, you know’ he had no idea what he just said as you know he hasn’t had any coffee that day. ‘ hell NO, have you lost it?’ said the guy, ‘there’s no way they’ll take your time, no I mean your money, and seriously, it has nothing to do with the budget, it’s the raining season you know, you don’t get squid, let alone a giant squid’
‘Didn’t Sasha put in her money when she did hers?’ he had not remembered that was one of the things that weren’t meant to be said in the public. ‘Where did you hear that? Is that true? I don’t know’ the guy said so.
‘I tell you what, hang on there, all right? Nothing’s completely finalized yet, you know, there’s always room for discussion’ claimed the guy.
‘Just so you know, I’ll not change a scene’ he said it as he has not forgot how some producers had suggested to take out the scene where the giant squid saw his grandfather died. ‘Ya, ya, ya, I got you, no worries all right, we’ll call you’ that was what the guy last said.
The raining season was long over, but the phone sitting on his desk had not ringed since.
There was little time for contemplation. He had to deal with the giant squid before he could start thinking about the coffee machine, or to be more precise, the intern.
‘I need a squid, there is no way it can be animated’ he tried befriending the people who told him that the giant squid will be animated. ‘I know how bad is this going to be’ the guy claimed, ‘but there’s very little we can do, you don’t get squids during the raining season, and they are not going to push the shoot any further’
‘I can always throw in my own money, you know’ he had no idea what he just said as you know he hasn’t had any coffee that day. ‘ hell NO, have you lost it?’ said the guy, ‘there’s no way they’ll take your time, no I mean your money, and seriously, it has nothing to do with the budget, it’s the raining season you know, you don’t get squid, let alone a giant squid’
‘Didn’t Sasha put in her money when she did hers?’ he had not remembered that was one of the things that weren’t meant to be said in the public. ‘Where did you hear that? Is that true? I don’t know’ the guy said so.
‘I tell you what, hang on there, all right? Nothing’s completely finalized yet, you know, there’s always room for discussion’ claimed the guy.
‘Just so you know, I’ll not change a scene’ he said it as he has not forgot how some producers had suggested to take out the scene where the giant squid saw his grandfather died. ‘Ya, ya, ya, I got you, no worries all right, we’ll call you’ that was what the guy last said.
The raining season was long over, but the phone sitting on his desk had not ringed since.
It Wasn't Until He Pissed On His Pants
It wasn’t until he pissed on his pants.
He was so ready to talk about the story 'in which the creature will be animated'. He had kept his mind as clear as possible as he had overcome peer pressure by saying no to those who tried offering him wine that looked really good. He looked into the mirror positioned above the ceiling and was ready to be showered with praises and admiration from his peers when he is going to talk about the story 'in which the creature will be animated'.
He looked into the crowd and was waiting for his peers to finish their discussion on the best sushi in town. He bit his nails and decided to let the story 'in which the creature will be animated' to ran through his brain one last time before he tosses it to the crowd. He waited and waited as the best sushi in town was yet to be decided. He would have had chewed his nails away if he hadn’t noticed that they were serving green tea at the back of the kitchen.
He drank a full pot of green tea while he was waiting for the best sushi in town to be decided. To be more precise, he had also two pieces of Oreo cookies while he waited. He could have had more, but he didn’t. Why? We must admit that it is not our best interest to know.
What had possessed him had to be de-possessed. It was until he pissed on the pants that he wished he could have wore it more often, he quietly sat on the couch at the backyard, waiting for the wind to bring him to the never-land. Still he swore. Never again will he try standing when he pisses.
He was so ready to talk about the story 'in which the creature will be animated'. He had kept his mind as clear as possible as he had overcome peer pressure by saying no to those who tried offering him wine that looked really good. He looked into the mirror positioned above the ceiling and was ready to be showered with praises and admiration from his peers when he is going to talk about the story 'in which the creature will be animated'.
He looked into the crowd and was waiting for his peers to finish their discussion on the best sushi in town. He bit his nails and decided to let the story 'in which the creature will be animated' to ran through his brain one last time before he tosses it to the crowd. He waited and waited as the best sushi in town was yet to be decided. He would have had chewed his nails away if he hadn’t noticed that they were serving green tea at the back of the kitchen.
He drank a full pot of green tea while he was waiting for the best sushi in town to be decided. To be more precise, he had also two pieces of Oreo cookies while he waited. He could have had more, but he didn’t. Why? We must admit that it is not our best interest to know.
What had possessed him had to be de-possessed. It was until he pissed on the pants that he wished he could have wore it more often, he quietly sat on the couch at the backyard, waiting for the wind to bring him to the never-land. Still he swore. Never again will he try standing when he pisses.
When You Were Numb You Were Also Shocked
You didn’t think it was going to happen when your friend, Daren took off his clothes.
‘How’s that?’ he said and you went numb for a moment or two. When you were numb you were actually shocked. ‘It’s pretty well done’ you told Daren when you were less shocked. But when you were less shocked you began to think why you were shocked in the first place. ‘Where did you have it done? Fitness First?’ you were asking question that you didn’t really want to know the answer. Why? So when Daren tells you the answer you don’t want to know, it would give you the time to think why you were shocked when Daren took off his clothes.
‘Where’s the panic button? Where’s the panic button?’ there was this little voice talking in your head. How could you possibly be shocked when you know you shouldn’t be. Fine, you told yourself, but it was all so devastating and unbelievable.
‘I haven’t worked on the abs for like a week already, you know, I wish they could have extended my membership without like charging me’ Daren went on and on and it had given you all the time on earth to figure out where the panic button was. It wasn’t easy. It had never hit you like this before. At least, not outside of the boys gymnastic team’s locker room.
‘Where’s the panic button?’ you found yourself replicating the question. It was indeed a very strange thing. Because actually, you don’t have it. No, really.
‘How’s that?’ he said and you went numb for a moment or two. When you were numb you were actually shocked. ‘It’s pretty well done’ you told Daren when you were less shocked. But when you were less shocked you began to think why you were shocked in the first place. ‘Where did you have it done? Fitness First?’ you were asking question that you didn’t really want to know the answer. Why? So when Daren tells you the answer you don’t want to know, it would give you the time to think why you were shocked when Daren took off his clothes.
‘Where’s the panic button? Where’s the panic button?’ there was this little voice talking in your head. How could you possibly be shocked when you know you shouldn’t be. Fine, you told yourself, but it was all so devastating and unbelievable.
‘I haven’t worked on the abs for like a week already, you know, I wish they could have extended my membership without like charging me’ Daren went on and on and it had given you all the time on earth to figure out where the panic button was. It wasn’t easy. It had never hit you like this before. At least, not outside of the boys gymnastic team’s locker room.
‘Where’s the panic button?’ you found yourself replicating the question. It was indeed a very strange thing. Because actually, you don’t have it. No, really.
We All Know What He Can Do
There was this guy who was very upset. He cried, and he started to think whether he would be any less upset if he could cry harder. So he cried harder. And he started to think if he could really cry harder than what he just did. He doubled his effort to cry and the thought came to him that if he can really cry harder than that.
Because he was so upset, it wasn’t very hard for him to triple his effort to cry. It went on and on to the point that the guy could not cry any harder. He tried crying harder and he couldn’t. He tried pulling his hair, but it didn’t work. Then he thought about how he had failed in the pie eating contest that really hit him when he was 10, it didn’t work. He thought about the other competitions that he had failed, they didn’t work. Not even the script writing contest that ruined everything he had before.
It depressed him so much that that was the hardest he could cry. So this guy who was very upset went on to be even more upset than what he already was, cried harder than what we all thought he could. The crying was so loud that he could not have noticed that he just cried harder than what he thought he could.
In the years since, he hasn’t done much crying. He felt part of him died, but we all know what he can do. It will be nice if you could tell him just that, because I am not in a position to do so.
Because he was so upset, it wasn’t very hard for him to triple his effort to cry. It went on and on to the point that the guy could not cry any harder. He tried crying harder and he couldn’t. He tried pulling his hair, but it didn’t work. Then he thought about how he had failed in the pie eating contest that really hit him when he was 10, it didn’t work. He thought about the other competitions that he had failed, they didn’t work. Not even the script writing contest that ruined everything he had before.
It depressed him so much that that was the hardest he could cry. So this guy who was very upset went on to be even more upset than what he already was, cried harder than what we all thought he could. The crying was so loud that he could not have noticed that he just cried harder than what he thought he could.
In the years since, he hasn’t done much crying. He felt part of him died, but we all know what he can do. It will be nice if you could tell him just that, because I am not in a position to do so.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Woo Hoo, see who's begging now.
Dear Reader,
Now. Be ready. I hate to say this, but I figure you need to be more willing to take risks, especially if they involve a chance for you to know the right answer. Swallow your pride if you don't mind me saying. Because it would be foolish to throw away good opportunities because of your pride. Give space to your feelings, don't put yourself in a vulnerable position to be tricked. QWell, that is just the humble opinion of your narrator.
You must approach this matter in such a way that, you need to be more willing to take risks, you know, like if they involve a chance for you to know the right answer. Did i tell you that how much I hate to say this? Oh by the way, you also need to control your pride. Because it will be easier for you to attract a frank opinion. And it will be stupid to throw such good good opportunities away. And be ready. Now.
Are you going to beg me to tell you what I am going to tell you? I won't go Woo Hoo if you are going to flirt a little.
Now. Be ready. I hate to say this, but I figure you need to be more willing to take risks, especially if they involve a chance for you to know the right answer. Swallow your pride if you don't mind me saying. Because it would be foolish to throw away good opportunities because of your pride. Give space to your feelings, don't put yourself in a vulnerable position to be tricked. QWell, that is just the humble opinion of your narrator.
You must approach this matter in such a way that, you need to be more willing to take risks, you know, like if they involve a chance for you to know the right answer. Did i tell you that how much I hate to say this? Oh by the way, you also need to control your pride. Because it will be easier for you to attract a frank opinion. And it will be stupid to throw such good good opportunities away. And be ready. Now.
Are you going to beg me to tell you what I am going to tell you? I won't go Woo Hoo if you are going to flirt a little.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Right Answer
Dear Reader,
There is one thing you must know, that your narrator has not abondoned you. The time when you felt so left out should not be served as an opportunity to be spiteful to your loving narrator. Time flies, my dear reader, adapting yourself to that idea is not very difficult.
There is one thing you may or may not know, that your narrator is going to do a very meaningful thing. Perhaps you are chuckling like a 37 year old lady scracthing her armpit. Or perhaps you are not. Either way, it holds positive meaning.
What is that meaningful thing that your narrator is going to do? One day I will give you the right answer.
There is one thing you must know, that your narrator has not abondoned you. The time when you felt so left out should not be served as an opportunity to be spiteful to your loving narrator. Time flies, my dear reader, adapting yourself to that idea is not very difficult.
There is one thing you may or may not know, that your narrator is going to do a very meaningful thing. Perhaps you are chuckling like a 37 year old lady scracthing her armpit. Or perhaps you are not. Either way, it holds positive meaning.
What is that meaningful thing that your narrator is going to do? One day I will give you the right answer.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
My Fifth Post
Dear Reader,
Are you happy or sad, that I am not going to tell you the secret that I said I was going to tell you yesterday? Call me a LIAR if you like, but I consider that a very strong impression that you have of me.
As I said earlier, I have been writing and moaning and griefing bullshits very recently. I feel contented and above all, happy. Of course you could barely see that in me. There is a very low contrasty of expression on my face.
Do you mind wishing my good luck? Well, the problem is that I sort of need it right now. Would you mind? I am not going to moan or grief or pant or anything like that.
Are you happy or sad, that I am not going to tell you the secret that I said I was going to tell you yesterday? Call me a LIAR if you like, but I consider that a very strong impression that you have of me.
As I said earlier, I have been writing and moaning and griefing bullshits very recently. I feel contented and above all, happy. Of course you could barely see that in me. There is a very low contrasty of expression on my face.
Do you mind wishing my good luck? Well, the problem is that I sort of need it right now. Would you mind? I am not going to moan or grief or pant or anything like that.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
My Fourth Post
Dear Reader,
Are you happy or sad? I have been quite happy myself lately. I am not going to tell you why because I am worried that you might be sad to know. I don't like being happy in front of a sad reader like you. But if you are a happy reader, I am still not going to tell you either. I don't like making a happy reader sad.
A lot of people have been talking and moaning and griefing about movie making. Throw a stone at the crowd and you will probably hit a film moaner. And Chances are they will moan a lot more than your dearest narrator do. So watch out.
I have a little secret that I want to tell you in my next post. Stay tune. Are you going to throw a stone at me? I am just going to whimper a little.
Are you happy or sad? I have been quite happy myself lately. I am not going to tell you why because I am worried that you might be sad to know. I don't like being happy in front of a sad reader like you. But if you are a happy reader, I am still not going to tell you either. I don't like making a happy reader sad.
A lot of people have been talking and moaning and griefing about movie making. Throw a stone at the crowd and you will probably hit a film moaner. And Chances are they will moan a lot more than your dearest narrator do. So watch out.
I have a little secret that I want to tell you in my next post. Stay tune. Are you going to throw a stone at me? I am just going to whimper a little.
Monday, May 09, 2005
My Third Post
Dear Reader,
Things have changed. I am no longer working. I get to write stories and all that kind of bullshits you know. Apparently I am happier. I am not completely sure of that though. There are times that I miss going to work. Well, I am sicked. Screw me.
I was in an Audition two days ago. It was great. I was paid 50 ringgit over the period of 48 hours, or you might want to call it like 2 days. I don't know if an actor could come prepared and makes a difference. Because I have not seen one over the period when I was earning that 50 ringgit, or five 10 ringgits if you want to like call it.
Personally, I like actors who come prepared. Very often, they are really nice people. I like nice people. I used to hate them though. Well, I am sicked. Screw me, I am just going to moan a little.
Things have changed. I am no longer working. I get to write stories and all that kind of bullshits you know. Apparently I am happier. I am not completely sure of that though. There are times that I miss going to work. Well, I am sicked. Screw me.
I was in an Audition two days ago. It was great. I was paid 50 ringgit over the period of 48 hours, or you might want to call it like 2 days. I don't know if an actor could come prepared and makes a difference. Because I have not seen one over the period when I was earning that 50 ringgit, or five 10 ringgits if you want to like call it.
Personally, I like actors who come prepared. Very often, they are really nice people. I like nice people. I used to hate them though. Well, I am sicked. Screw me, I am just going to moan a little.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
My Second Post
Dear Reader,
Have you been considering yourself a reader? I don't really want to address you as a reader if you are not going to like, read me, or at least play me. Call me a loser if you like, but play me. I am just gonna pant a little.
Did I tell you about my future? Well, here's the thing. I don't have one. So if you are planning to play me on a long term basis I suggest you to go for plan B. Whatever that is.
I'll be finishing up with my current 'people who feed me' in a day or two. I gave them a letter the other day, telling them how I would like them to stop feeding me. So I might be out in the jungle for the next 57 years looking for a feeder.
If you happen to see someone in your neighbourhood asking you to play him. Play him, and feed him if you are happy. He's just gonna whimper a little.
Have you been considering yourself a reader? I don't really want to address you as a reader if you are not going to like, read me, or at least play me. Call me a loser if you like, but play me. I am just gonna pant a little.
Did I tell you about my future? Well, here's the thing. I don't have one. So if you are planning to play me on a long term basis I suggest you to go for plan B. Whatever that is.
I'll be finishing up with my current 'people who feed me' in a day or two. I gave them a letter the other day, telling them how I would like them to stop feeding me. So I might be out in the jungle for the next 57 years looking for a feeder.
If you happen to see someone in your neighbourhood asking you to play him. Play him, and feed him if you are happy. He's just gonna whimper a little.
My First Post
Dear Reader,
What is up? Have you been considering yourself to be in a crappy situation that you have little influence on? If you have hoped for a favorable moment that will make your crappy feeling go away, you have come to the right place.
Would you like to play me? It is quite evident that you are exhausted, worn out, and possibly not existing. If I have a deeper understanding of fate, I will probably consider myself ill-fated.
You are too gullible, and if you don't mind me to be awfully blunt, even if it hurts. Free yourself from the irritations and nightmares. Are you going to play me?
I am just gonna moan a little...
What is up? Have you been considering yourself to be in a crappy situation that you have little influence on? If you have hoped for a favorable moment that will make your crappy feeling go away, you have come to the right place.
Would you like to play me? It is quite evident that you are exhausted, worn out, and possibly not existing. If I have a deeper understanding of fate, I will probably consider myself ill-fated.
You are too gullible, and if you don't mind me to be awfully blunt, even if it hurts. Free yourself from the irritations and nightmares. Are you going to play me?
I am just gonna moan a little...
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