GUILTY PLEASURES

Everyone was fast asleep in their rooms. I shut the door quietly with an uncertain resolve. The moment I'd been waiting all day long had finally arrived. I turned towards the TV and switched it on. The screen flickered into life as it flooded the relatively dark room with its bright rays.I turned down the volume rather hastily lest it alerted either of my folks. Once all the arrangements had been made,I settled down with my eyes firmly glued on the monitor.

A voluptuous woman started talking testily.I strained to hear what was being said but it didn't matter all that much as I had been through the rigmarole quite a number of times. Even then,some of the excitement was lost with the somewhat muted delivery. I cranked up the volume such that most of what was being said was audible. Tiny beads of sweat glistened all over my face as I looked on towards the monitor with unwavering concentration.I was most definitely in a state of heightened perception.

Most of the introduction was done when my hands got to work. My face became flush with excitement as I continued to peer into the monitor. I tried to take in as much as possible because every single frame was vital. Atleast for me.....

As time went on, my hand movements became highly erratic.It was almost impossible for me to co-ordinate my movements with what I was seeing. Soon my fingers flayed all over the place...back and forth,sometimes to the right,sometimes to the left.It was safe to say that I was almost delirious with passion.

I could no longer keep up with the frenetic pace at which my hands seemed to be moving. My fingers felt tired and I let out my first pant for the night.

It isn't going to take me much more time, I thought to myself.

I should have stopped then and there but I had committed myself too far in to throw in the towel towards the climax of the night.

"Hem,hem.” Someone cleared their throat behind me.Startled, I looked behind anxiously.

A pair of angry eyes greeted mine.

I had been so enthralled with myself that I didn't hear Dad let himself in.

"I should have bolted the door....." , I thought to myself.But I was too eager: to start,to please myself.

"Stupid,stupid,stupid...",I cursed myself.

Dad looked towards the monitor and then back at me.I looked down somewhat shamefully.

What else could one have done ; especially after being caught red-handed.I couldn't possibly feign ignorance over the whole matter. I hope Dad understands. Even he must have done something terribly stupid back in his teenage years.

Marshalling my courage I looked up timidly only to gaze down again as Dad spoke out.

"Son,which part of "not using the playstation to play Tomb Raider after 11 pm" didn't you get?"

It's going to be a long night , I thought to myself...

when I was a kid, I had an infatuation with fire. I think it was a fairly healthy obsession. I could stare at a candle forever. Boys like fire. It's natural. I wanted to be a fireman. I didn't set fire to cats or anything destructive.

One time I was left home by myself. It was raining outside and very cold in the house and I thought I'd pretend to be a grown-up and start a fire in our wood burning stove in the kitchen. Bad idea. One of the main things my mother would always say before leaving the house was, "Don't touch the fireplace or play with fire." Whatever, man !

So as a child, I know that paper, dead leaves and wood are good at burning. I throw some logs in there and some newspaper. The newspaper burns out, and the wood? Nothing. Didn't catch. Solution? More newspaper!

So I pile in the newspaper and sure enough, one big flaming piece comes flying out onto the floor. Now, I freak out thinking that the paper will hit the table cloths and go up in flames. What do I do? The smart option would have been to use the poker thing and shove it under the stove or try and get it back in the stove and let it burn itself out. But as a mildly retarded eleven year old, I pick up the burning sports section and run like hell. Brilliant!

So I run to the nearest exit with the paper held high above my head. The problem with the nearest exit was that there were clothes kept to do the laundry. So now, not only am I running with burning ash flying all over the place, I'm running through the most flammable room in the house. I get to the door, open it up, and throw the paper into the rain. OK. Crisis averted. So I calm down and head back into the house, with a pretty nice burn on my hand. Nothing too bad, I run some cold water over it, then realize I've got some cleaning up to do.

I go back into the kitchen and find all the ash. Luckily, nothing was burned. I put out what was still burning in the fireplace. I triple check my torch run to glory for any remaining ash. If my mom or dad find any evidence of this, I'll be a dead man.

OK, house looks good. no evidence of this anywhere. Sweet. I'm going to get away with it. My parents get home later that evening, and the first thing my mom says is, "What's that smell? Were you making a fire?"

"Wha? No, God no. I would never disobey you dear mother! For, I merely lit a candle to soothe my senses whilst reading Goofus and Gallant!"

Sweet, she bought it! I'm in the zone! If only she knew, a mere two hours ago, I was very close to burning our humble abode to a pile of embers. An hour or so later, the entire family is eating dinner. My mother asks, "What's in your hair?"

"Huh?"

"There's something in your hair."

"No there's not."

"Yes there is. It's white!"

Mom comes in for a closer inspection. "It's singed! You singed your hair! You did try to start a fire!"

Indeed I did. And it was then I learned that no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to cover it up, my mom will always find out.

moms find out. Don't know how, but they find out. I believe that day was the last time I wanted to be a fireman. After that, I wanted to be a monkey. I've always wanted to be a monkey.

-picked this one from my archives! theres another post about to follow.

You struggle to start life afresh ! A new hope, a new direction, but days later your life's something else entirely!! much much worse then what it was.

I've spent years trying to come to terms with it. alternating between sleeplessness and nightmares, between living and merely existing, between holding on and spinning my wheels. Life’s taken some odd twists and turns.

In the final analysis, however, acceptance is inevitable. Because life goes on. It's in our nature to hold on and not move forward. To pick up the pieces of our broken lives and broken hearts and try to make them whole again. There's no point in anger, or bitterness. Of living in the past or in dwelling on what might have been. Life is what it is and all I can do is learn from it and be the best I can be.

SPYKID !!

At 6:00am this morning I pressed the button for the elevator and was waiting for it to come along. Then this kid on his way to school comes up, sees me & pushes the elevator button again. Wait a sec, You see me waiting there. You see the button lit up. Do you have to push it too? You think maybe you have some special magical elevator touch? And that when you touch that button, the elevator detects your scent?

Whoa 'spykid' , thank God you came along and pushed that button for me because I’m sure the elevators thinking “This Glenn can push my button all day, but I'm gonna hang out up here for awhile until.... fuck, that's spykid! Forgive me spykid I'm coming! I'm coming!”

Anyway, we get in and the elevator starts going down. Somewhere midway, this school girl gets in and we’re on our way again. I get off the elevator and keep walking. Suddenly I remember I had parked my car closer to the emergency exit. So I turn back to get to the stairs of the emergency exit. Im walking down the stairs and see the most amusing site anyone would expect before sunrise. 'Spykid' and 'School Girl' making out !! I have to admire their courage to do that in their uniforms, at no older than 12 years and at 6:00am. Yeah, I know, making out is part of the relationship package no matter what. But I’m not in the mood for soft core porn at 6:00am in the morning, and please not at the emergency exit.

Get a room kids! I look at my neighbour 'spykid' and give him the.. ‘Give me your elevator powers or I'm gonna be telling your mom about you’ smirk. Maybe I belong to an era long gone. But I'm really wondering if its ok for kids to be making out in their uniforms before sunrise?

SHE WANTS TO GET BACK IN MY LIFE AGAIN !!

A sneaky bitch she was, I never wanted to see her again. Life was such a happy song before she arrived once more. Stealthily she appeared on my doorstep, Her arrival camouflaged by silence. I had a premonition she was coming; my silver spoon falling off. Suddenly, water spilled for no reason.. and the headaches?? I was in denial. I thought she was an illusion and tried closing my door. But she just kept on knocking, what a bitch.

Then everything began to fall. Slow days and more bad headaches. Friends leaving. Loved ones fighting. work never seemed to be right. All i could do was stare, sleep and sigh, everything's falling I thought. I fumbled on what to do. I could never ask her to leave. i could see that smirk on her face. She seemed to enjoy my predicament. She even asked for half my bed. Half my bed! To be a part of my life. How could i sleep after what she'd done to me before? It was almost eternity, until I realized She was here to stay, for as long as I wouldn't accept.

Then we started talking. Her visits more frequent. I'd been wasting time on so many earthly things she grieved. She is the enigma of what i forgot to do in the past and her aura, a strong reminder of what I was before. "You can always enjoy what you have today, but remember what you were yesterday and what you want for yourself tomorrow". "Because if you fail, I will surely knock again in your doorstep and occupy even the whole of your bed!!"

I shivered.

She is the warning- a recurring, distasteful stench that reminded me of the foolishness I've preoccupied myself with now. I let her have her way, I could sleep on my couch I know, I did that before. I called my friends talked to them about my visitor and said sorry If i was a total asshole. All this I did waiting for that bitch to go.

Well, now I don't care. Donn't matter to me if she's there or not. I do my stuff, just like before. And she went away, unnoticed just like that. The bitch. I wasn't able to get her name.

Most people around call her"BOREDOM". Maybe it was an appropriate name after all..

I dreamt last night that I met this girl who I went to kindergarten with, she terrorised me in my KG class. Those two sentences got very confusing. Damn. Anyway, I really hated that girl as a kid.

In my dream she adopted a baby from Dunkin' Donuts. It turned out to be a really bad baby, kind of like Problem Child. She was all mad about this baby, but I felt sorry for her and told her that it was a bad idea to get a baby at Dunkin' Donuts. I was kind of just like, "Shoulda just got a chocolate frosted donut. Can't go wrong there. They're not really known for their babies." I don't think I said that exact line, but that was the gist. I want to have dreams like normal people.

I thought I'd go to the Park for a run yesterday. Was a beautiful day. I was there playing mini-soccer with a couple of fellas. We were able to find a patch of land unoccupied by too many people, it wasn't the most ideal place to dodge a soccerball. But it did the job.

At one point, a father and his two kids decided to start kicking around a soccer ball too. Great. Now I've got to watch out for those kids or else I've got blood on my hands. One of the kids is this cute little two-year-old girl smiling like an idiot kicking the ball. I get a ball hit to me, it's in the dirt and it skips by me. Now, it looks like a laser-guided football making it's way right towards little Sally (that's what I named her). Of course, I can't do anything. The ball is going way faster than me and stupid little Sally is just standing there kicking a ball that's almost as big as she is. I can't yell at her to tell her to move. Shouting "Hey two-year-old, dive!" would probably not work.

So the ball zooms right behind her little legs and just misses her. She, still kicking the soccer ball and still smiling like a dumb little kid without a care in the world. She's OK.

After that, there was another ball that was overthrown and went near her. Not as close as the other one, but dangerous enough where if I was a father I would realize the danger and move to a more kid-friendly area in the park. But apparently Sally's father is stupider than she is, despite the many more years he's had on this planet. He decides to stay there. I wanted to pick her up and start running. I'd run with her for about ten feet, then put her down and turn to the father and say, “Keep an eye on your kids, ya dumb fuck." Except I wouldn't have used such coarse language in front of little Sally.

I often think my blog is infinitely more interesting than I am.

One time I was talking to a girl, and during a lull in the conversation, she said to me, "I wish your blog was here." I don't believe she intended for it to sound as bad as it sounded. But it sounded bad. But I’ve got over it now.

ANNOYING QUESTIONS

You have either landed here for the first time today…or you have been reading my crap since kingdom come. Whatever be the case, you probably wonder..

what kind of guy would write such crazy stuff.

I know you know. I know you know how incredibly annoying it is to be bombarded with these kinds of stupid questions every single day of your life. Because it happens. It happens to all of us. All of the time.

What? Where? Who? When? How?

Some questions don't have answers but are asked on a daily basis anyway. Some questions have easy answers but you hate answering it because the question itself is just dumb. Then there are those questions that don't even need an answer and so you question why the question was even asked in the first place.

Confused? atleast I think I am. I know i wanted to make a point here but i cant quite remember what it was.

THIS ONES FOR THE GUYS

Why don't women pick the right guys? Or even more to the point - why do women pick all the wrong guys?

To me all women fall for 3 things, because I know what they want. atleast most of the women today chose guys with the 3 things that I have outlined below. So..

1. BE DANGEROUS – women love danger. So be dangerous and beat your girls routinely.

2. BE DESIRABLE – women love it when men are wanted by other women. The only way to show that you're wanted by another women, is to have sex with other women, If you're caught cheating on the woman that you are “with”, first deny it, then admit to it and then make up an excuse about it not being your fault and how the other women took advantage of you. Once she's taken you back, the sex will be 10x better.

3. BE A JERK – women love men that are jerks. So be a jerk, be a really great one: never hold the door for her, rarely compliment her, rarely tell her that you love her and never ever call her back until she has called you at least 3-times. If you do accidentally compliment her, don’t panic; take it back by picking at one of her flaws until she cries.

Im not as sarcastic as i thought i could be.

Women I believe are like cats. They sneak around, enjoy being petted, don’t get along with other cats, are always attention hungry and leave you when you’re dying. Oh and yes they dig their nails into you.

Men on the other hand they say are a lot like dogs. They get along easier with other dogs, are loyal and simply basic creatures. But just like men, dogs have one downfall; they chase cats. I have never actually seen a dog catch a cat which makes me wonder why they even bother. The same goes for men chasing women, although its amusing how some women look at you and expect to be chased.

(Disclaimer: I do realize that about 65% of the male population has the IQ of a stray and another 10% enjoys chasing same-sex dogs, this article of course does not apply to them.)

Out of all the moments that one can choose to learn how to play an instrument, neighbour girl decided to give it a shot at 2am on tuesday night, right outside my balcony.

Out of all the instruments one can choose to learn on, she decided she would learn a clarinet.

And out of all the songs one can choose to play, she decided she would learn the 'Auld Lang Syne'.

Its early november, why would someone play a Scottish New Year song this early.

For 30-minutes I listened to her rendition of how 'Auld Lang Syne' could be played wrongly. She finally managed to play the entire notes correctly. Atleast her getting the notes correct was less stressfull.

I WANT TO BE A GANGSTER

Throughout my entire life no one has ever felt threatened by me. I have always tried hard to be a little more thug, a little more gangsta. But in truth I cant even sip hot coffee without burning my tongue. I burn my mouth atleast twice a week. I make a total ass of myself.

Now I have a feeling I’m never get to the cusp of raising my gangsta status to greater heights.

Back in the day I learned a valuable lesson – “Don’t start getting serious about any girl until you meet the younger sister”.

Why?

Cos it is a well known fact that the younger sister is always hotter than the older one.

The younger sister has several distinct advantages over the older one:

- The parents made all their mistakes on the older one.
- Younger sister was most likely dropped less as a baby.
- Parents always babied the baby, while the older one was out on the street playing in the mud.
- And last but not least, younger is always better and they're a lot less cranky.

I know, I know.. my blog has suffered the last whole week. It’s been a week well wasted. Took some time off to do nothing. However I learnt a few things the last few days. In no particular order :

- I hate soap’s & shampoo’s that make me smell girly.

- I’ve learnt never to go for a haircut when India’s playing cricket. For those who do not know. I H A T E C R I C K E T !!!!! The other day , I decided to get a haircut and The barber was gut wrenchingly interested in the India – West Indies match on the television as he swiped scissors around my head. And the fact that the Indians were batting like a bunch of grandmothers wasn’t helping his mood. I was particularly scared when he mouthed " Those guys need to be slashed at their throats" and picked up the razor to work on me.

- I’ve learnt that I appeal to people who do me absolutely no good.

- I’ve finally learnt to make brownies, My mom taught me. As usual she gave me instructions like they’d give a 3 year old instructions to perform a complicated heart transplant.

- I’ve learnt that I’m as knowledged about relationships as Osama is to white doves.

- I’ve learnt that people want to read what I write when I’m high. Like what I write when im sober doesn’t bore them enough ! I still find that an interesting proposition.

For a week I think I’ve learnt enough.

SSHHHH !!!

hic! I've been a bad boy. hic!

I was at a barbeque party and met a girl (who could end up reading this) with the most hilarious phobias. She was afraid of heights, cats, and balloons freaked her out. OK heights I understand, but balloons and cats? The balloons it seems cos shes scared they suddenly burst. But cats ???

Much to her dismay there was this cat that strolled by us at the park and ofcourse, being, the good guy I am, I grabbed the cat and gleefully chased her around. I thought it was hilarious. She of course didn't.

That got me thinking, If an intelligence agency needed any kind of information that this babe had, they wouldn’t need to have a torture chamber. All anyone needed to do was to put her in a big tub with cats and suspend her with balloons high in the air. Heights, balloons, and cats all in one.. I thought it was brilliant. She didn't. Oh well.

They played that Shania song where she says something about being a little crazy and then she goes, "Oh-oh oh oh, I feel like a woman." Clearly some songs should not be allowed to be played in public spaces.

The reason I loathe this song, apart from the obvious (the obvious being the fact that it's ear poison), is that it gets stuck in my head for hours on end. So I'm walking back to my apartment and I'm practically singing to myself, "Oh-oh oh oh, I feel like a woman." And I don't know the other lyrics so it's just that line over and over.

I always had a fear that dead relatives can listen to my thoughts if they chose to, so I'd hate to have my grandfather be like, "Let's check in on what Glenn’s thinking about. Such a nice boy." Then he taps into my brain and hears "Oh-oh oh oh, I feel like a woman."

PAPER PLANES

People fly in and out of your life like paper planes. Some you'd wanna catch and hold on too. but you got to let go. Cos thats what paper planes are meant to do. they're meant to fly.

Then there are those that dont hang in there long enough to make any sort of significant impact in your life. They beg you to be the wind beneath their wings(huh). Then before you even deny them.. they bump and crash into you and your left with no choice but to walk through life with a broken paper plane stuck to your leg.

SOMETIMES ENGLISH CAN BE SO DIFFICULT

Whoever started the English language was quite confused himself. There are so many complications that could easily have been avoided like the word ‘fourty’ and the word ‘wont’.

Here was something that happened to me in first grade, I believe. Wait, might have been later. I'm not sure, but let's just say it was first.

Mrs. Eugene: Glenn, what is the contraction for "can not"?

Me: Can't.

Mrs. Eugene: Very good. And for "do not"?

Me: Don't.

Mrs. Eugene: Correct. And "will not"?

Me: Willn't.

Mrs. Eugene: (laughs) No. *looks around* Anyone else?

Someone else: Won't.

Me: That's fucking bullshit! It should be willn't. What the fuck is won't? Where the hell did you just pull that word out of? Sometimes I just hate the guy who invented English. ( Is invented the right word for that ) see it’s confused me so much already.

I haven’t slept for more then 3 hours a day the past whole week. I’m tired right now. I'd kill for a nap. But then I'd probably feel all guilty for killing someone just to get something as simple as a nap, so I doubt I'd be able to sleep. And I'm not sure killing anyone would ever result in getting a nap. You can't kill someone and get sleep. Well, I mean, you could kill someone and then go to sleep, but you wouldn't get sleep from killing them. You could steal a ‘hubba bubba’ from the person you just killed, but not sleep. You could get a bed and a pillow from the person you just killed as well, I suppose, but the actual act of sleep would not be gotten from killing anyone.

At this time I would like to take a moment to thank my favorite gum ‘hubba bubba’ for always being there for me. Whenever I was sad and lonely I would chew you and feel much better.

Forgive me my blabbering, I just need some sleep that’s all.

STUPID STUPID !!

Last night I parked the car & was walking to my apartment when i saw this little girl who was playing with a few kids. Im guessing none of them were more then 8 years old. I remember the girl very well cos the last time I saw her she was playing ‘hide and seek’ and was hiding behind a car. I had yelled her exact location to the seeker, much to her dismay. I know it was a bad thing to do. I loved the angry look on her face that day. Yesterday evening I looked at her and I could tell the li'l babe was still angry with me.

So anyway, I'm walking by, and the kids are enjoying themselves. As I pass by, this girl looks at me and says "You stupid." She said it with an Arab accent "Sthu-pit." It could be a name I thought. "Hello, my name is Stuandra Pitt. But you can call me Sthu-Pitt."

I was obviously insulted by this. So I say to her as I am walking by, "No you're not. You are."

Let's recap.

Little girl: You stupid.

Me: No you're not. You are.

In my attempt to prove to a kid that I wasn't stupid, I seemed to prove that I was, indeed, sthu-pit.

I kept walking and was like, "Damn, Glenn, you totally fucked that up. You had the chance to tell that kid straight up that she was sthu-pit, but you fucked it up."

I turned back to look at her and she had this really confused look on her face like, "Why would he tell me I wasn't stupid, then tell me right after that I was? His comeback makes no sense, He is indeed pretty sthu- pit. what an ass"

MY FRIEND ARNOLD

There’s this teeny li’l brown sparrow that comes and sits on the window at home. I’ve named him ‘Arnold’ after Arnold Schwarzenegger. Arnold the sparrow is cute, so I give it a few cheese crisps sometimes. Yesterday there was an annoying black bird that was troubling Arnold. That got me worried.. what if Arnold fell off the window and got hurt or even fell to his death ? They should electrocute the black bird.

I don't have much of an opinion on the death penalty, but this stupid black bird should be killed. I often tend to sympathize with anyone who is being killed, including criminals, but I wouldn't give a hoot if they put this guy down. How do you trouble a harmless little sparrow? How?

At first I thought, Feed him to the lions!!! But that's too easy. Lions would kill him too quick. Feed him to the crabs. Feed him to the fire ants. Feed him to something that is going to take a long time. But not starving kittens, because that would be so cute! Imagine watching someone getting the death penalty, and everyone going, "Awwww."

The other day I went downtown for a meeting with some publishing guys, when their fire alarms went off. Everyone was rushing down the stairs of the fire escape. This guy in front of me, however, was more interested in looking up at one of his co-workers on the stairs above him. He waved to her about ten times on the way down. He'd stop to get her attention. Asshole! There is a fire. Get out. Stop, drop and roll your ass!

Once we got to the lower floors, you could smell the smoke. It wasn't overbearing at all. It was sort of like sitting next to a campfire. But if you asked the guy behind me, he was in the middle of a blazing inferno. He called his wife or girlfriend or maybe his mother to alert her to the situation.

"Yeah. There's a fire. It's craaaazy. There's all this smoke. COUGHCOUGHAKLJFHL:DIHFKBIBECIU EABCOUGGHGHGHGCOUUGGGHGHGHGH!!!!"

I've met people with lung cancer, emphysema and whooping cough who coughed less than this guy. He was totally trying to get some action when he got home.

"Hey baby. I almost died today. Let's do it. And when I say 'it', I mean sex!"

Crisis averted. I got back at work this morning. I realized that three hours prior to the incident I deleted some gay chain letter email thing which warned me that if I didn't forward it to ten people, I'd probably get hit by a double decker bus or something like that. I wish i had known earlier, I could just scream out while I was walking down the stairs, "IT'S ALL MY FAULT! I DELETED A CHAIN LETTER! I'M SO SORRY! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

WORST NIGHT EVER

Last night I was so tired, yet was unable to fall asleep until 3am. And when I finally did fall asleep, I dreamt about not being able to fall asleep. Worst night of sleep ever.

EXPERT

Well, in case you weren't worried about Iran going nuclear, maybe you should now know that Iran’s defiance has the "experts" worried.

Seriously, I want to be an expert on something. I could totally do this. When I first heard the news of those nuclear weapons, I thought to myself, Hey, that's quite worrisome! But I didn't tell anyone because I'm not an expert.

They even have Nuclear watch-dogs, I devote a lot of my time to two things: one is watching tv, the other is switching from the refrigerator to the cupboard over and over again even though I know the same shit is in each one. Maybe I could be some kinda watch-dog. I even watch American Idol too. Courageous for admitting, I know.

J-ZEE

Theres always some screaming going on in my neighbourhood. The top two regulars are listed below in no particular order.

There is this baby that lives I should think 3 buildings away and is always crying almost non-stop. There is also this lady next door who yells at her cat nonstop.

Here was the conversation from yesterday:

‘J’zee’ usually sits just outside my apartment by the fire escape. I always called that cat Daisy, sounded so much nicer. I know Jay-z maybe a nice guy, but he’s not nice enough to be named after that cat.

She starts off calm. " J’zee! J’ZEE !! J’ZEE !!! J’ Z E E !!!!" It turns quite angry. She's nuts. And she acts like this cat can talk back to her.

Lady: J’zee! What are you doing?

J’zee: (Just sits there quietly and looks back at the Lady.)

Lady: J’ZEE! J’ZEE! You are driving me nuts!

J’zee: (silence)

Lady: What are you doing J’ZEE ? ? COME HERE J’ Z E E ! ! !

J’zee: (Does nothing except raises an eyebrow)

Me: (Uncontrollable laughter)

Lady: Oh, Jeez! Come on! Dinners ready. J’zee! J’ZEE !! J’ZEE !!! J’ Z E E !!!!

J’zee : (turns his head and goes back to sleep).

CLEANING WOES !

I was feeling wrestless over the weekend so I got to cleaning my room when I found a piece of paper that had a caricature of me with my handwriting that read "I’m mildly retarded."

I have no recollection of doing that, and it had to be within the past 2 years because I've only been living in my apartment since feb’05.

I am disturbed by this.

I also found a dead butterfly. This is less disturbing.

You'd think that, considering I've got so much time on my hands, I'd get a lot of shit done. Nope. I've got a lot to do, but I haven't been doing anything. God, I'm so damn lazy. I don't even want to finish this post.

KARS !!

One of the things that annoys me most is people who make their cars look really fucking stupid. You know, things like neon lights, fire that shoots out the tailpipe, a DVD player, a volleyball court, a dog kennel, a strip club, an aquarium, a speedboat. So you watched too much of The Fast & the Furious. Save us the embarasment, get a gaming console.. strap on the spoilers and nitrate. NFS now even has something called the "House of Kolor" where they show you how to paint your car in an obnoxious color.

Whatever the title was, the words were supposed to be spelled with the letter "C". Apparently, whoever was involved in the creative process for this was like, "You know what? The letter 'C' is so fucking gay. Let's man this shit up with a 'K'. Yeah, Kolor with a 'K'. When people see this, they will know not to fuk with us. when I say the word 'fuk', I'm not inkluding the letter 'C'. From this point forward, all words kontaining the letter 'C' will either be removed or replaked with a 'K'. When I get an opportunity, I will kompile a komplete list of kweer letters. Ok I think its supposed to be spelt with a 'Q'.

I hate when things are spelled wrong, which is why I urge you to tell me when you see a typo.

PRINGLES

Pringles always seem like such a good idea when you first start eating them. I start wishing that everything was made out of Pringles. Like my house. Then I could eat my house and go outside to where there are more Pringles to fix my house with. Then I'll go eat my neighbor's car, and play all innocent when he asks me if I ate his car. Eventually I'll cave in and tell him that Pringles are so good, and his car looked so good I couldn't help myself. He'll say, That's okay Glenn. Then he'd invite me inside his house where we'd eat some more Pringles.

But that fantasy is always short lived, because after a few minutes of eating Pringles, I start to feel sick. so I tell myself to stop eating the Pringles. That will make me feel better. but I only proceed to feel worse, even though I have ceased eating the Pringles.

I saw a guy get hit by a car yesterday. He was on roller blades and couldn't stop. The pedestrian light had turned red, but he was thinking green. He tried to get the attention of the traffic crossing by going, "WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA!" Not quite as effective as a siren. Obviously the guy in the car did not hear him. He saw him at the last minute and bumped the guy. Roller blading guy had a pretty bruise on his leg.

He got up and made a hand gesture towards the guy in the car like a "Forget you" kind of motion. The driver looked at me and was like, "What could I have done?" I just kind of chuckled and shrugged. Then the roller blader got hit by a bus.

That's a lie, but it's what everyone was secretly rooting for. Well, not secretly. Everyone yelled in unison, "We hope a bus hits you!"

That's not true either. Sorry.

I have a fear of a few things. One of them is being stranded in the ocean and the other is accidentally killing someone with my car. I would hate that. If you accidentally kill someone with a gun, you can just be like, "Well, no more guns for me." You can avoid them, but it's hard to avoid cars.

Anybody out there really like pepper ?

So I got home from work this evening and decided to cook me up some Cheesy Macaroni Chili. I have made chili about five times since I've had it, so I pretty much know the recipe. Once I added in everything, I get to the spices. I grab the ground pepper and the chili powder. Two teaspoons of chili powder and a quarter teaspoon of pepper. So I take the chili powder and put in two teaspoons. Then I grab the pepper and realize it's the chili powder. I just put two teaspoons of ****in' pepper in my chili. I will know how it tastes in nine to eleven hours.

Anyway, if you really like pepper, party at my house.

I think the only pets that people should have are pets that can catch a frisbee. Ideally in their mouths. So a dog is the pinnacle of pets and, say, an ant sucks. A frisbee just couldn't fit in the ant's mouth. I'm not even sure that they really have mouths.

I am a bad person. I did something terrible last night. I found a golf ball in a drawer and was rolling it around. That was when I saw an ant on the counter, which is a pretty odd thing to see in my apartment. Anyhow, you know that scene in Indiana Jones with the boulder rolling after him? Well, I decided to re-create some movie magic and roll the golf ball at the ant. Problem is I think the guy was sick or tired or something because there was no incredible chase scene, no cute little run, just the wet smoosh of the ant dying senselessly. I felt pretty terrible, so I walked out to my balcony and buried it in my cactus vase, with a little piece of watermelon because I know they like that.

Nothing Changes

My posts have suffered over the past weeks. I haven’t had the time to write. Im so lost in my routine, I don't see that I've progressed all that much. I still struggle with everyday life, am broken down by the seemingly simple and get frustrated at that which does not matter. I have ascended no higher plain, accomplished no lofty goal, finalized nothing. The older I get, it seems, the more aware I become of how little I advance as an adult. My circumstances differ every day, but the obstacles I face and the arguments I have seem to be one and the same, just turned to a different facet so that they look new, but only until you take a step back.. and everythings the same !! Nothing Changes !!

BAD DREAM.

I've not had dreams in a very long time. Maybe i just sleep too well. Last night however i had a wierd dream. In my dream..

I had just finished with dinner and was at my favourite part of the meal. Pudding!! I was about to eat some pudding when I'm not sure how I knew, but I could tell the pudding was quite unhappy about being eaten. I get up from the table to get myself a spoon. But before i get back some cosmic rays or something hit the pudding and it becomes a pudding monster. When i got back to the dining table the pudding monster shouted "I'M PUDDING YOU TO DEATH" (yes even my dreams are filled with bad puns) and then it jumped on me. Why can't I have dreams about flying like everybody else?

The truth, I strongly suspect, is that love is a bit of a twee (maybe even sad) little illusion, a happy story that we tell ourselves to pretend that even if everything isn't all right now, it will be in the future. Maybe. If we hope desperately enough.

We're not talking agape here.

Sometimes, you wonder…what's the fucking point? Why even bother? Does it actually even mean anything?

Nope.

Good night.

I HATE WRAPPING GIFTS

Call me a moron, but I cannot for the life of me figure out the proper way to wrap a gift. I have a cousin who can wrap a gift with her eyes closed and her hands chopped off because she's a girl and girls were born to do stuff like that. I could have a gift wrapping manual and a team of trainers guiding me through the process and the finished product will still look like something Santa threw up after a night of binge drinking and coke snorting.

Tell me if this sounds familiar -- when you finish wrapping the gift there's either too much paper or not enough. You always use way too much tape. You always put the bow in the spot that looks the most fucked up. At least one person makes fun of your horrible wrapping skills. Is this you? It sure as hell is me.

I wish all gifts could be "close your eyes" gifts. You know? Like, we don't have to wrap them, we just tell the other person to close their eyes and give it them. This way there's not some pile of wrapping paper to clean up and I don't have to look like a moron each time with my pathetic wrapping.

To the nice guys that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, to those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores.

This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is not fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated on the PS2 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The only conclusion I can form is that many (I say many, Not all) girls are just illogical & manipulative. They claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of dateable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

- This rant was published on the wharton undergrad Journal

ARIEL

"Hello" I mumbled, barely awake.

"Hey !!" It was a girl's voice.

"Yes?" I replied, checking my watch for the time. God, it’s 3:00 am!

"Are you ready?" she whispered

"No," I whispered back, a little confused about what I was supposed to be ready for. "Who is this?"

"Ariel. Are you still asleep?”

"girl, it's three in the morning. Do I know you?"

“Who is this?” she shot back.

“Glenn!!”

“Glenn???? Hi.. I'm so sorry. I think I got the wrong number."

A little irritated, I nonetheless managed to fall asleep again as soon as I put the phone down. The next morning, I vaguely remembered the phone-call, but wondered if I had been dreaming. I checked my pda and there had indeed been a call at three in the morning. I thought about it. Even in my sleep, the voice had sounded nice.

That night, I felt the need to play a prank. So I set the alarm for three the next morning, and went to sleep. At three, I woke up and dialed the number that my phone had dutifully recorded in the call log.

A sleepy voice picked up the phone. “Yes?” she said.

"Ariel?" I tried not to laugh.

"Yes?" She sounded sleepier than I must have been the previous night.

"You ready?"

"Ready for what?" She seemed to be crawling her way to consciousness.

“Who is this ?” she mumbled. “Glenn”

"sweet revenge” I whispered back.

"My dad was supposed to be flying back in from Canada last night, My cousin was supposed to accompany me & mom to the airport." she said. there were more apologies.

At this point I ran out of things to say, so I said sorry and hung up.
The next day, at 3:00am, she called again.

"Hello?" I had been asleep, but from the moment I opened my eyes, I knew it would be her.

"Glenn? Ariel here."

"Hi Ariel."

"what are you doing?"

"waking up" I replied.

"Well I just wanted to say Good Night." I could almost see the grin on her face.

"Good night !" I said cheerfully

Last night she called again, but at 10:00 pm

"You're early" I said.

"Yes," she replied. "I have an early day tomorrow. So I thought we could have this conversation now instead of at three."

"Smart move."

"I know. Hey, what are you doing around six tomorrow evening?" she asked me.

I knew there was another question coming up as soon as i answered this one. I just didnt wanna know what it would be so...

"I'll be collecting my kids from school. What about you?" I asked her

Im sure her heart skipped a beat. For a few seconds she didn't even breathe.

"Hello?" i said, to check if she was still on the phone.

Im surprised she could’nt tell how hard i was trying to suppress a laugh.

“Hellooooo???” there was no reply. there was a click on the other end of the phone and theres been no word from Ariel since !!



For all those who dont know, im not married and definitely dont have kids !!

Writing a blog in a lot of ways, is like a marriage.

Why?

Well, here goes...

When you get married, for the first few months there's lots and lots of sex. (All right, I confess, I'm not married yet, and so maybe I'm wrong about this. But there's no harm in hoping for the best.)

Anyway, When you first begin blogging, there's the urge to blog a lot. Everyday. Sometimes, more than once a day. Sometimes all you can think of, is to write another post. Soon, though, the sex (and the thrill of blogging) becomes one of those "Been there, done that" things.

So you reduce the frequency at which you do it. In some time, it drops to once or twice a week. Sometimes you go a whole week or two without it.
Then sometimes you get in the mood and do it multiple times a week again.

But whatever you do, the initial period of bliss, is only a memory.

MY CAR

Mom called to tell me some thugs stole two parts off of my car the other day. If I was going to steal a part, I would think this would be a part way down on the list. I don't even know what they'd be called. It runs below the door from the front tire to the back tire. A runner, maybe? I don't know. They stole it from both sides. It's just a strip of whatever it is cars are made out of these days. I hope these guys don't plan on stealing my car a couple of pieces at a time. "Hmmm, that's odd. I could have sworn I had more than three tires the last time i saw it. And I'm almost positive I had doors. Yes, I definitely had doors."

IMAGINE THAT !!

Assume you live on the 10th floor of a 15 story building. Also assume your Dads sister’s just come to Dubai for a holiday and she’s visiting. Lets also assume she’s invited for dinner and she wants to see your cactus collection. So she sneaks out to the balcony and has a look at the cacti whilst your not with her!! She sees something that could only have fallen from one of the apartments above.

What could be the worst thing that someone upstairs would throw out of their window that you could get blamed for? Chocolate wraps ? Ice cream scoops (im banned from icecreams)? Cigarette butts? Lets assume cigarette butt !! she sees the cigarette butts on the floor.. freaks out!! comes running indoors, yells at me!! “im gonna tell dad about this !!”. Poor me !!

Now If your thinking it was bad she found cigarette butts, She didnt find any cigarette butts.... she found contraceptive wrappers!!

Last night Im going up to my apartment and Im waiting for the elevator to come by and theres this very cute looking girl waiting along too, fumbling through her bag for something. when suddenly she said “Hi”, so I look at her and smile.

“Is it 9:30 yet?” she asks me. I look at my watch and tell her its 5 minutes past. And she gets back to the fumbling. We both enter the elevator and thump the buttons for our respective floors. So like any normal elevator passenger I look up at the floor display LCD, the roof, the railings, trying to avoid looking at what my co-passenger's doing. When suddenly..

“ Whats your flat number? ”

I turn to look at her not sure if I heard what I heard. and she smiles at me. I just pretend to ignore the question.

Call me anything you want but that’s the weirdest line to start a conversation with a stranger. If you ever wanna break the ice don’t start with that !

“ Hellooo ”

so I look at her again.

“Are you done with dinner?” she asks

“Umm Me”

“can we go out and grab a bite to eat?” she asks.

“No! Im busy, I got a few errands to run” I tell her

She gives me a weird look !! Im thinking to myself She’s so cute, I wish it didn’t start out this way. I reach my floor and im stepping out of the elevator when she says..

“there was this cute guy with me in the lift, but he was so creepy & wierd..... !”

Taken aback I turn to look at her and shes standing there talking to someone on her freaking handsfree !!!

These hands-free cell phones are officially freaking me out. In the car it's good. on the street, in the elevator not so good !! Glad I got out of there before that conversation got any further.

The One Where I Lose An Entire Post And Then Bitch About It

Man, I hate this stupid 'publish post' button. I really do. I really really hate the damn thing so much that hate stopped being just another word and transformed into this creature that lives inside me and decides to come out every time something horrible happens to me so it can just smile and wave the finger.

I just wrote this whole long awesome post and then published it and then went to view it and it was gone. Yes, the asshole that I am decided to view the blog without properly republishing, thus losing all of the post.

And I'm not typing the entire thing again because this computer would wind up with a hole in it by the end of tonight. Is there some kind of support group for bloggers that lose posts after spending a stupid amount of time thinking them up and typing them down?

Because if there is, then sign me up.

I need a hug.

THE END OF SUMMER.

I remember that day clearly. The day Summer and I broke up for good. As I sat on the bed in my room, I popped a kind of something in order to get me through the morning without feeling sad. it was all coming to an end and I had to go back to class again.

I knew it was time. Time to say goodbye. But Summer and I had so much history between the two of us; it made it near impossible to sum it all up in one sitting. I didn’t want to admit it and neither did Summer, but it had been over for a while now. Work had gotten in the way. As it always does. As it always will.

But it wasn’t always that way…

See, when you’re a kid, the equivalent to great sex is not having to go to school. That was Summer. My first orgasms, and they lasted for two months. No homework. No getting beaten up on the bus. No nasty math teachers. It was just us. Summer and I. And each year, somewhere in between Picnics and Summer camps, the family would pack their bags for our annual summer vacation.

Early on, during the honeymoon phase of our relationship, summer vacations rocked. And then I made a new best friend. A friend that would, in fact, change my relationship with Summer forever. Lets call that friend ‘grown-up’.

‘grown-up’ was the exact opposite of me. He was from a bad neighborhood, he had a deep voice, a beard and thought about sex constantly. ‘Grown-up’ and I began to get along pretty well. We enjoyed each other’s company. Had a lot of the same interests. And after a few months, I figured it was finally time for me to introduce ‘grown-up’ to Summer.

That’s when it all went downhill. grown-up then brought me on to his friends.. work and responsibility. I began to spend time with work and slowly responsibility showed more of himself. There was no time for anything else. Summer came and went by a couple of times, I hardly even noticed summers presence. Then grown-up bought love into my life. Love, work and responsibility became everything for me. Then love and work began having problems but there was always more of responsibility no matter what. Finally things grew bad for work, he didn’t like me spending too much time with love and so decided to take me far away from love.

Now I spend my entire day with work and responsibility. But deep down I miss summer. I want all we had back. Many a times before I go to bed I think of the great times I had with summer and it makes me sad. I repent for having let ‘grown-up’ come into my life.

I still live with the hope that someday, in some corner of the world.. summer and I can catch up on everything we once shared in the good old days of my Life.

A LITTLE SUGAR FOR YOU DEAR NEIGHBOUR !!

3:00 am

Im trying to get some sleep. I’ve buried my face in the pillow and used another to cover my ears. but I can still hear it... ofcourse i can.. why wont i ? its dead of night. you can't miss a pin drop with this kind of silence !!.. there it is again... “If I had to.." ..... "live my life without you near me, The days would all be empty, and nights would seem so long”.

I mean what the ***k. doesn’t she wanna sleep or something. Its been like this for over 3 hours now. Hey ‘loving’ neighbour honestly if I had to live my life without you near me I’d be asleep by now. And if your so desperately in love try these things I just came up with. It’ll do me (if not your lover) a lot good.

At this particular time i am going to share with you new ways to go and kill yourself when you feel the need to. For which I think theres never gonna be a moment better then now. Not that i wish you to do so, but just incase.

let's get with the suicide stuff right away. If you ever find yourself on the way to some place, say a park! with your lover, and you just feel like showing him some love, here's what you do. Tell him you’ll die for him.. Wait until you’ll pull up to parkway. Once you’ve stopped open the door and run as fast as you can backwards towards the fastest coming SUV. Upon impact you will find yourself flying rather rapidly through the air for say about 40 to 50 feet until you and maybe some of your other parts come to an adbrupt halt on the parkway itself. As you fly throught the air try to glimpse back at your boyfriend to try and catch the look of horror upon his face, that would make it all worth while.

Or Let's say you just aren't feeling "it" anymore, what do you do? What do you do ?!?! Simple, go ahead an take yourself an overdose of medication. That should do the trick. But wait. . .it didn't. So now what? Why not find the nearest bed sheet, tie it around something sturdy like a bedpost or maybe a bedframe. Now tie the other end around your neck. Look for the window and jump out, thereby hanging yourself. Don't worry about someone finding you and saving you because daddy will not hear the thud of you hitting the siding with those love songs playing so loud.

So there yah have it. Mind you i am not endorsing suicide nor am i telling you to do so. Whoever said "Love your neighbour" surely didnt have a neighbour like mine.

Most people will give you directions if you just ask. It's funny how some people are so afraid to ask for directions in Dubai. I can spot these people a mile away. They look around, try to find a street sign to see if it makes any sense, and when that doesn't work, they start scoping out people who might be approachable. I am often a person who they go to, or at least consider going to. There are reasons. I am very non-threatening, I often dress like an old man, and I wear a t-shirt that says, "Are you lost, you dumbass? Ask me for directions, you big out-of-towner!"

Ok the t-shirt thing is a lie, but the rest is true. But people are very scared to trust anyone in Dubai, so they are very hesitant about asking for directions. There's an idea among many people that anyone who lives here is either in a rush or doesn't want to be bothered. The remainder could be a crazy thief/murderer/rapist, or just some relatively harmless psycho that talks to themselves and eats cigarette butts. I am usually in a rush, as is everyone in this city, but we are very often really not trying to get anywhere in a certain amount of time, it's just the speed at which things move around here. If you slow down or stop to look around, you get bumped into by sidewalk tailgaters, or you get a good stabbing in the kidneys.

They may do it abruptly and it'll seem rude. It won't be the same kind of service you'd get anywhere else. Don't expect any follow-up questions, like, "So how long are y'all in town for? What do you plan on doing while y'all are here? Have fun!" The response will most likely be a quick point of the finger and a hurried "One block that way." That's what I've found out. People are almost always one block away from where they want to be. When I see lost people I watch them until they make eye contact with me, and depending on my mood, I'll either give them my friendly "Come to me with your queries" look, or my slightly more psychotic "Ask me where you need to be... I dare you to fuckin ask me" glare.

Ok, I curse a little too much. I am aware of it. But I just can't ***king help it. I love to curse (or swear as some may say). The only time I won't curse is when children are within earshot. Any other times, all bets are off.

I blame my bad mouthing on Ashley. I went to school with Ashley and I've known him since kindergarten. We fell out of touch in middle school, as he became a smoker and I did not.

Anyway, one day in fourth grade, Ashley and I were walking when he said to me, "Glenn, I noticed that you don't curse." He then told me to say "shit." At first I was reluctant. I thought, Why should I start cursing now? I haven't up until this point and there have not been any negative effects from not doing it. Being that I was a pushover, I then quietly said "shit." We were walking very close to some windows to classrooms. God forbid a teacher hear me. But I said it and realized it wasn't so bad. Then Kevin said, "Now say 'fuck'." Whoa. That's the big one, I thought. Do I dare say it?

The first time I heard it (or at least heard it and recognized it was bad) was when Cliff came into my Sunday school class, and thumped his head on the table by mistake and said, "Aw fuck." One of the girls in my class gasped and said, "Cliff! That's a bad word!" He was obviously unaware of it and probably heard one of his parents use the word. The teacher wasn't in the classroom yet, so he got away with it.

Anyway, back to me and Ashley.

I think at first I told Ashley I wasn't going to say it (I was such a wuss!). But after some more peer pressure, I said it very quietly. He then told me to say it louder. So I said it a little bit louder. Then he said, "No, yell it. Just go, 'FUCK!'" He then yelled it a few more times consecutively like "FUCK FUCK FUCK!", when our English teacher peeked her head out of the window to take a look at what all the "fuck"ing was about. Then I think we ran.

So that day, I never did yell the word. But rest assured that set me on a path of cursing. The following year I was in my fifth grade class and some kid said something to me, and I said something back which was very clever like, "Fuck you." Rather than being upset, he said, "Glenn, you curse a lot now. You never used to." That made me feel pretty good. I never realized kids paid such close attention to the linguistic habits of others.

So I thank you, Ashley, where ever you might be, ya piece of shit.

On Thursday (it’s the weekend in this part of the world) I finally decided to call it a night after a marathon run with programming and scripts. I completely lost track of time and before I knew it, the time showed 2:00 am. I get real grumpy and irritated after a long run with programming language. And like always every thing that has even the slightest chance of getting me irritated finds its way to me at moments like these. So before anything could make me frown I decided to shower and just crash out.

I got this nice bright fluorescent yellow towel. but it’s not very good at "absorbing water" or "drying me off". That's sort of like having a car that's not good at "going" or a watch that's not good at "keeping time". If the upper part of my leg is damp and I start drying myself, the bottom half of my leg will soon be soaked. This towel just moves the water. Is it really that hard to make good towels? Stupid sweatshops.

So I go to bed hoping to catch some sleep, with scripts and parameters and coordinates still running in my mind. About 3:00am Im still dazed & confused and I wake up to a cop speaking on his... what is it, a bullhorn? Whatever it is in their car that makes their voices louder. Why can't I think of the word? Let's call it the voice loudener. So he's on the voice loudener saying, "Step away from the car. Put your hands where I can see them. Where I can see them!!!"

Luckily I don't have one of those little kid beds in the shape of a car, because I could have been mighty confused in my middle of the night REM mode. I don't know what happened with the cop and the guy. I hope it worked out for the both of them.

and then about 4:30am i wake up, and hear my neighbor (the one who plays those love songs) screaming in her balcony. it's 4;30 in the morn, why is she screaming? so i'm like, "oh no! someone is murdering my neighbor!" so I run out to my balcony and she goes, "i'm sorry... sorry." she was sorry for waking everyone up. there was a mouse that she freaked out about. the way she was yelling, you would think that this mouse was carrying a gun or something. You did a fine job Mr. Mouse. Next time just make sure she jumps.

After that I haven’t had a wink of sleep..!! and I’m still grumpy.

I’ve been really very busy and didn’t realize I was busy that long. Im not done with my projects yet. Just took a well deserved break and thought id post something. Im still completely out of stuff to write.. like they say.. got nothing to talk about?? Theres always the weather.

EAVESDROPPING ON GOD

The other day in God’s office, mother nature stopped by and this is the conversation that ensued…

Mother Nature (knocking on God's door): Hey God? You got a sec?

God: Hey Big Momma! Come on in! What's going on?

MN: Well, um. I kind of screwed up.

God: Screwed up what? What's going on?

MN: Well, it's the UAE.

God: What happened?

MN: Well, about a month ago, I turned on the heat there. And I kind of forgot about it and it's been really very hot for a month.

God (Stroking his beard): Hmmm, OK. The entire UAE?

MN: Yes. Pretty much from abu dhabi to Dubai.

God: Dubai? Holy shit, I totally forgot about Dubai (laughs). Oh man, I was so high when I did that. Dubai. That was hilarious. It's actually a pretty funny story. I made abu dhabi, then I had this whole extra piece that I didn't know what to do with. Actually, never mind, it's not that funny. I guess you had to be there.

MN: Hmm, I guess so. So anyway, about the heat. I basically forgot all about it. What do you want me to do?

God: OK, tell you what we're going to do. We won't tell anyone about this. This is off the books. Just go right into winter. Hopefully, no one will notice. Just make it up to them in the Fall. Give them a nice September.

MN: Oh, thank you so much.

God: Mother Nature, I've noticed this has been happening a lot lately. I know you are getting on in years. Maybe it's time to hang 'em up.

MN: No, I promise I'll do better. I'm starting to write things down more. I also bought this thing from TV, where it's supposed to help me remember things.

God: OK, fair enough. And to tell you the truth, I've been screwing up a lot lately too. That whole Middle East thing is way out of hand. I'm at a loss. I didn't realize these assholes are blowing each other up left and right and doing it in my name, of all things.

MN: I guess we've all had a lot of stuff on our minds lately. OK, God, I'm going to go back to work.

God: OK. Hey, you brought that rain to Delhi like Conscientous_contender always asks, right?

MN: Shit! I'll go do that right now.

(Mother Nature leaves, then there's another knock at the door. It's Old Man Winter.)

Old Man Winter: Hey God. Can I talk to you?

God: Sure. What's up you old *****rd?

OMW: Not much. look, I'm going to cut right to the shit. Is Mother Nature going to retire or what? She's ***king up left and right.

God: Look, I know. But my hands are tied. She doesn't want to leave.

OMW: Dude, fire her.

God: you and I both know I can't do that. She's going to have to leave on her own. If I fire the only woman I've got working for me, how bad is that going to look? The liberals and chick groups will be on my ass so fast.

OMW: This is bullshit. You know I can do a much better job than her. She made it rain in December, she left the heat on for a month. A ***king month. There have been 40 degree days in July. You've gotta do something.

God: I'm sorry. She's not leaving. And come on, please don't call me names. I'm God.

OMW: I'm sorry. I'm just ***king sick of this. I've been doing this Winter shit for how long now? It feels like for ***king forever. Come on, I know I can do Spring.

God: I know you can too, and I'd like to give you a shot, but it's Mother Nature's gig.

OMW: This is bullshit, dude, and you know it. I'm so sick of blowing ice and snow on people. I need a change. Honestly, if the job market was better, I'd be so outta here.

God: Look, I don't want you to quit. And I don't think you want to quit. What are you complaining about? You've got one of the easiest jobs up here.

OMW: I don't know. I just need a change. If I don't get a promotion, I think I'll just quit. I kind of want to move to Ibiza. I just need a change of scenery.

God: I'd hate to see you go. I wish I could do something but, right now, I can't.

OMW: This is just a hard time right now in my life. I'm at a crossroads.

God: I know. Why don't you just sleep on it and talk to me tomorrow.

OMW: OK. We're still on for golf, right?

God: See you tomorrow. Peace out.

MORNING BLUES....

I spent 15 minutes Ironing a shirt last night. This morning I woke up to see all the creases back at the exact same places I had pressed them off. Incase your wondering, No!! there wasn’t even the slightest trace of blood in my alcohol stream!! It’s a new new shirt, first wash. Maybe its just me. Its not the first time. Happens to a lotta my shirts n trousers alike.

So I Ironed it over again, 15 minutes of my lazy morning robbed by a stubborn shirt that wont stay crisp. finally there I was, a neatly pressed shirt ready to leave, I get into the elevator and one look in the elevator mirror and presto, same creases, same place! Damn this ‘Massimo Dutti’ I grumble.

Just then this very cute little Arab girl enters the lift, looks at me and with a bright face…

“Hey there, good morning”… Im standing there in the corner stunned with admiration for this little girl who’s probably not a day older then 8 yrs.

I couldn’t help replying with a.. oh you cute thing “Good Morning”.

“so where you off to early this morning” I ask her.

“to the park, I got my friends waiting downstairs,.. where you going to?”

“Me??? im off to work li’l girl, can I join you at the park, Id love to pl..”

“did you call me a Li’l girl??” she cut me mid sentence.

“I’m not Li’l, tsk tsk”

O Oh I thought...There I am looking down at this cute little thing who hardly even reaches knee high, giving me the most disgusted look anyone could ask for at 7:00 in the morning.

“I’m sorry” I mumbled. She didn’t look at my face. The whole thing seemed so amusing, and just to annoy her a little more I start singing.. “Baby, baby don’t cry !!”

It really seemed to work cos now she was furious.. the little baby girl !!

“Im telling my mommy about you” she grumbled. I couldn’t help smile cos she had the cutest angry look on her face. Her fair cheeks were now red with baby fury. It was the most amusing morning I had in a long long time. The moment the elevator door opened I let her walk before me. She ran to her friends turned once and gave me the “I hate you stoopid guy” look. All the while im smiling and that seemed to annoy her all the more.

As I drove by, I saw them laughing & playing in the park. It is moments like these when I realise that how life has gone by so quick, Its so so much nicer to be kids. You got your parents around you.. cooking for you, looking after you. sometimes I wonder why is it that I have to live so far away all by myself. Oh yeah career’s sake. But for those of you who are with their parents , dont let the moment go unrespected and unrelished. Maybe its only when we move apart that we realise the value of being together. Life is not about a few big moments , but a million small ones.

Mom called just as I was thinking about how at my suddenly advanced age I would never know when my heart would come to a sputtering stop. After I determined that my heart was (for the moment) still beating, I cheered at the thought that I hadn’t yet reached the point where I had more body parts on the night table beside the bed, (false teeth, hearing aid, eye glasses etc.) instead of attached to their appropriate places (however tentatively) on me. So far I was good to go. I looked at my cellphone and asked my Mom

“I’ve passed my prime mom, I’ve grown old”

“Nonsense - you never had any prime years to be past.”She replied

I feel so much older today. Somebody stop the world, life's flown by too fast.

THE FURRY ASSASINS

Back home in Goa, We happen to support two cats who do not belong to us but have found refuge in my home. I know this will color me peculiar in the eyes of many, but I am not a cat person. Not that there is anything wrong with cats, but the bottom line is that they’re animals just like cows & goats.

These two cats who conveniently freeload off us dispute this notion and consider it heresy on my part.

They act like drunken Vikings wreaking havoc on furniture, carpets, doors, car roofs, trash bin, not to mention lawns and gardens.

I think they were going a tad too far when they tried to murder me. Now I know some will consider what I have just written as paranoia on my part, but hear me out.

On my Holidays this time round the cats got working together and attempted to kill me using the stairs. While one acted as a lookout the other darted between my legs, as I was going down the stairs, causing me to crash down the steep steps.

Once I eventually reached my destination at the bottom, I checked myself for damaged body parts. It didn’t take me long to notice that my left foot was not how it had looked a little earlier. After some judicious consideration I deduced something was amiss. I then did what all guys do when faced with personal disaster, I shouted for my MOM.

As I was waiting for assistance I noticed the cats giving each other the “thumbs” up. The conspiracy was out in the open.

When my Mom came to the open doorway at the top of the stairs, she looked down at me with a sigh and a look of resignation. She was no doubt thinking of the burden that was descending upon her again.

As I crawled out the front door, on the way to the car, I looked back to see the two would be assassins looking as if they had swallowed the proverbial canaries.

With every vibration of the car causing pain in my ankle, we bounced, jiggled and thumped our way to the doctor's clinic and because my Mom's aim was particularly good we missed not one bump or dimple in the road. She was suspiciously pleased about this.

The next thing I knew I was lying on the observation table at the clinic, deliciously contemplating what I was going to do with the cats, once I was on my feet again, when the doctor appeared over my ankle. He informed me that my ankle had been sprained. This as you may imagine came only as a minor surprise to me. He went on to say, that I needed complete rest and a few pain killers would do. Obviously this man had too much testosterone pumping through him that day or else he was an agent of the cats.

Much to the obvious disgust of the cats, I was soon at home, This happened a couple of months ago and the cats are still with us. My Mom likes the cats and I haven’t had the nerve to ask her to choose between the cats or me. You could never say when you’d be voted out.

You don’t know someone who would like a cat or two, do you?

Why does no one want my special sauce surprise?

I'm thinking about becoming a professional chef.

I made this meal sometime back. I called it "Everything that was in my kitchen at the time plus it could have used some mushrooms". I just threw a bunch of things that I thought would go well together in a pan and cooked it. It was good. The secret ingredient was love.

The other day I thought I would try to duplicate this recipe. Since I didn't write down any ingredients or quantities, I was going to have to wing it again. I added some mushrooms, some green peppers and a few more things that I found in my kitchen. This time around, it was more like a recipe than a bunch of ingredients thrown together. It was zingy and spicy, yet creamy and mild. I thought it finally deserved a proper name.

I decided to call it "Glenn's creamy special sauce chicken pasta surprise". I brought it in my lunch today and told the guys about it. I offered them some. Everyone agreed that no one is going to want to eat a meal with the words "Glenn's", "Creamy" and "Special Sauce" in the title. Infact, it was also agreed that "gastrointestinal Casserole" is a more appealing name. My friends are nice!

No one would eat it. They didn't even find out what the surprise was.

SOMEONE JUST SHOOT THE GUY !!

Just caught an interview with rapper 50 Cent, as he is known to his fans (his real name is Miles Scaife-Dingethorpe). A fascinating young man, though unfortunately almost too stupid to speak. He reminded me of some of the less proficient guys. "The music business is really the business of selling music," he argued, "so I do what I do."

Music? The oaf would'nt know the difference between a crotchet, a quaver, and a bash in the chops with a bassoon. I would like to dig up Ludwig van, or one of those boys, and introduce them. "This is how we do music now, Ludo. You spent a year studying with Haydn in Vienna; this guy spent two years in jail for armed robbery and dealing crack. Not only can he not read music, he cannot read at all; indeed, he can barely even speak. And yet he thrives."

I am not talking about all rappers. There are many I admire. Ice T, for example, was at the Salzburg Conservatory under Otto von Schnitzengruber, where he studied harmony, counterpoint, choral fugues and mixing..

For more rants on 50cent by me click here

Dear Disgusting Bus Traveler,

Sleep is such a marvelous thing, isn’t it? Especially when you are stuck in travel. I can see you nodding so I’ll take it as a yes.

Oh, what’s that? You are nodding, yes, but nodding off to sleep. I get that because you are slithering your head all over my back like a bad rash. And if that isn’t bad enough, you also seem to be a dribbler.

What is a dribbler, you ask.

Well, a dribbler is almost like a cretin. He spews saliva a masticating cow and I wouldn’t put his IQ much beyond the cretin as well. For fuck’s sake, use a pacifier or suckle on your thumb. Not only would that help you in this dribbling business but you can then travel in the handicapped section, no questions asked.

The next time your head crawls over my shoulder, I’ll punch your in the *****. You can lose sleep over that. And please, wipe that silly grin off your face. We aren’t telling each other sordid tales of matrimony.

Ah, good! I can see you nodding. Hmm, you are beginning to resemble God’s remake of Pisa. Hey, wait, I’m not finished yet…

PAPER CUTS

Why is it that a paper cut hurts worse than a knife cut?
Cold steel vs. flimsy paper
You would expect a real knife to be very painful.
Yet usually, a simple “Darn it, I’m bleeding!” will suffice.
When paper slices you, every bad word you’ve ever known gets blurted.
Even if you don’t see the blood, it hurts!
Is the absolute flatness of paper what makes it so painful?
I do believe it does, yes.

But there’s more to it.
What is paper made of?
Wood.
What did people use before they discovered steel?
Wood.
So essentially, a paper cut is a wood cut.
A paper cut is equivalent to a splinter.
Splinters hurt like hell!
The worst thing is, you can’t pull a paper splinter out.
It just hurts until you forget about it.
Remember the warnings, never run with scissors.
Change it to never run with paper.

SNEEZING

My friend Jacque’s down with flu and cold. She’s been sitting a few feet from me and sneezing her life away. I couldn’t help but do some research on the kinda sneezes people sneeze.

The simple quiet sneeze, Achoo!
The louder sneeze, AAAAAAAAAAACCCCHHOOOO!
The continuous sneeze, Achoo, achoo, achoo, achoo, etc.
The apologetic sneeze, ACHOO! Sorry!
The personally excused sneeze, Achoo! Excuse me
The excused by others sneeze, Achoo! Your excused or Gesundheit!
The denial sneeze. You feel it coming. Your eyes water. Your sinuses constrict. You start to squint and open your mouth. And then what? Some jerk says "Bless you" before it even happens and You feel like you just swallowed a grenade.

There have been studies that say you lose about 300 brain cells per sneeze. 300 is quite a scary amount. Which brain cells ??? ones that store useful information, Or ones that store useless information? How do you know what you lost, you’re too busy sneezing. I’d prefer to designate which brain cells I lose from now on. My girlfriend always complained how i forgot the date of the day we first met and the time at which i proposed.. see that explains a lot of things. It all got lost in the sneeze !!

hehe and Jacques been sneezing all day. The poor thing must be real short of brain cells after now !!

God Bless ya Jacqueline.. !!

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MUST READ'S from my weblog archive "Why it's important to loose brain cells":
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Do you ever remember your school Principal…????

First off.. Im back.. I’ve just been very busy with work and home which haven’t spared me the time to post anything. Anyway we were talking school principal..

I just happened to remember my bouts of detention and suspension as a school kid. I’ve studied in a Boys School back in Goa and we had this extremely strict Principal who’d scare every kid in the school except for brave me, who just happened to be the kid with the highest suspensions in the day. These consecutive incidents are proof that for all the times I have been suspended it wasn’t entirely my fault. I always got blamed for something I didn’t do.

If you ever been in a fist fight with someone almost twice your size you’ll know what Im talking about. Im gonna call this guy “Shrimp”. despite the fact that I was comparatively tiny to get into a fist fight with anyone. I always ended up in fights with people much bigger then me.

Anyways, the first day I met Shrimp I thought he was a teacher. I wasn't watching where I was walking, just looking down at my feet when I bumped into Shrimp, I apologised, so Shrimp stared at me with glee thinking he’d found the perfect guy to bully, so I stared back with the “dare you” look hoping Id scare the bullying idea away. I then noticed that Shrimps nose was starting to run, so I gave him a tissue, and he used it then threw it at me, but I didn't catch it. All of a sudden this mean kid said "Shrimp, don't waste time with dumbass like you", he gave me the finger, and walked away. I then tried to give Shrimp the finger, but the school Principal (who Im gonna call “Dean”) saw it and said…

"Oh, so you're still upset that I suspended you last week?",

"No I'm not",

"then why did you give me the finger?",

"No I didn't",

"Are you calling me a liar?,

"No",

"Good, bring your ass down to the staff room immediately",
this scared me very much, and besides I wasnt gay, so I didn't go.

The next whole week I was home suspended. It was the only time I missed being at school. Just when I was glad to be back in school the next week I got suspended again. As usual not my fault again.

I remember walking into school that morning looking at the prettiest of all my teachers.. Miss Maryellen, I mumbled a "Morning Hun", she smiled the heart warming smile and kept on walking, so I watched her walk away, and I almost walked over “Dean”, which was not a good thing. “Dean” then yelled at me

"Why don't you watch where you're walking!",

"because I was watching where Maryellen.. err Miss Maryellen was walking",

"getting smart, huh?",

"I hope, because I have a test to pass next week",

"well guess what Glenn Antao, don't worry bout that test, because you're suspended! What do you say to that?", but I didn't know what to say.

" Im just back don’t you feel bad for putting me through this, I don't know what to say”

"try buh bye?",

so I did and spent the next whole week home again..

Enough of creepy school stuff in other interesting news theres a bird that’s built a nest on my window sill. Ive named the bird Duckie, and the 2 baby birds Rocky3 & Rocky4 cos they remind me of Stallone without his shirt. Ever seen a bird without its feathers. I got into trouble with shrimp once for calling him a skinned bird.

A SHORT STORY !!

It had rained incessantly for hours that day as the cloudy evening sky slowly grew darker into dusk. The streets were deserted with the waters slowly begining to rise, everyone had rushed home early, storm warnings had sounded on the radio. The wind howled as trees in the town-square bent precariously. The City suddenly gave the creeps of a Ghost town amidst a tropical storm. The deluge hadn’t ceased even as he walked out of his Studio after a 12 hour shift. It had been a long tiring day and the only thing that could brighten up his day was being with the woman he loved so much. The rain continued to pour relentlessly into the dark evening sky, He could wait no longer.

He wasn’t seeing the signs.. Signs that were pleading of him not to make the journey that day. He was still 60 kms from where he wanted to be. He gunned the Honda engine racing to be with the women he loved. The wind blew strong as the rain drops splintered his bare hands and hurt his eyes like shards of piercing glass. He just kept going speeding into the darkness. Visibility was zero as he made his way through the hills and the deserted Highway risking every submerged short-cut. Dodging fallen trees and entangled telephone cables. He tore through the falling rain, the lights on the bike hardly keeping pace with the speed. Clearly He wasn’t seeing the signs. His hands were numb and white as the rain worked like an annihilator on his skin. By now he was soaked and cold. But that wasn’t going to stop him.. He was still missing the signs.

The engine finally roared into the last bend in the road.. up ahead he would see the woman he loved so much.. It had all been worth it. With his hands now sore and eyes blood red. He found joy in finally being able to see her. He looked up at the sky and smiled laughing at the heavens as if telling them nothing could hold him from seeing her and the heavens thundered in disappointment.. The skies opened up again.. The entire village was under the cover of darkness as the Electicity lines snapped.. by now he should have seen the sign.. turned back and gone home..

The flowers he had carried were crushed and crumpled.. he brushed the petals trying to make them look beautiful again.. And then he winced in pain as the thorn stung through his now cold & numb hands.. blood trickled down as the crimson mixed with the rain. How Funny he thought.. “If you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must accept the thorns which it bears.” He didn’t see the signs. As the rain washed the blood away. He walked into the realms of the woman he loved.

As he stepped into the Porch water dripped down him like a mop just out of a bucket. he heard movements come from within the darkness of her house. The door was shut but not locked so he sneaked his way in, She was to be alone that evening. A mug of Hot-Chocolate by the Fireplace he thought. Just the two of them. The long day, the rough journey didn’t matter anymore. He was with her. He tip-toed into the darkness of her home thinking he’d surprise her. A dull glow of what was left of daylight made its way to the room through the windows. He strained his eyes to see her, hoping to surprise her. She didn’t see him come in. The sound of the rain drowning his foot-steps as he walked into her bed-room. Leaving a trail of water in his path. Finally he saw her.. sprawled across her bed. There she lay the girl of his dreams under the warmth of a blanket. So cute he thought.. as he began to walk towards her bed.. He heard her laugh.. so cute he thought !! Lightning flashed outside filling the darkened room with a burst of blinding light for just a split second, in that fraction he froze.. cold in the moment. he watched in horror as his world began to crumble.. Time stood still as he shivered in the cold. He thought about everything he went through just to be with her.. He didn’t see the signs.. Everything was much clear now. There she lay not alone.. with someone else.. Friend he screamed.. the words hardly leaving his mouth. His best friend and the love of his life..

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The post is ficticious and has no resemblance to anyone.

GUILTY PLEASURES

Was a warm summer night home in Chandor.. a small hamlet in Goa.
I shut the door quietly with an uncertain resolve. The moment that I'd been waiting for all day long had finally arrived.

I turned towards the monitor and switched it on. The screen flickered into life as it flooded the relatively dark room with its bright rays.I turned down the volume rather hastily lest it alerted either of my folks. Once all the arrangements had been made,I settled down with my eyes firmly glued on the monitor.

A voluptuous woman started talking testily.I strained to hear what was being said but it didn't matter all that much as I had been through the rigmarole quite a number of times. Even then,some of the excitement was lost with the somewhat muted delivery. I cranked up the volume such that most of what was being said was audible.

Tiny beads of sweat glistened all over my face as I looked on towards the monitor with unwavering concentration.I was most definitely in a state of heightened perception.

Most of the introduction was done when my hands got to work. My face became flush with excitement as I continued to peer into the monitor. I tried to take in as much as possible because every single frame was vital. Atleast for me.....

As time went on, my hand movements became highly erratic.It was almost impossible for me to co-ordinate my movements with what I was seeing. Soon my fingers flayed all over the place...back and forth,sometimes to the right,sometimes to the left.It was safe to say that I was almost delirious with passion.

I could no longer keep up with the frenetic pace at which my hands seemed to be moving. My fingers felt tired and I let out my first pant for the night.

It isn't going to take me much more time, I thought to myself.

I should have stopped then and there but I had committed myself too far in to throw in the towel towards the climax of the night.

"Hem,hem.” Someone cleared their throat behind me.Startled, I looked behind anxiously.

A pair of angry eyes greeted mine.

I had been so enthralled with myself that I didn't hear Dad let himself in.

"I should have bolted the door....." , I thought to myself.But I was too eager: to start,to please myself.

"Stupid,stupid,stupid...",I cursed myself.

Dad looked towards the monitor and then back at me.I looked down somewhat shamefully.

What else could one have done ; especially after being caught red-handed.I couldn't possibly feign ignorance over the whole matter. I hope Dad understands. Even he must have done something terribly stupid back in his teenage years.

Marshalling my courage I looked up timidly only to gaze down again as Dad spoke out.

"Son,which part of "not using the playstation to play Tomb Raider after 11 pm" didn't you get?"

It's going to be a long night , I thought to myself...

Posted by: Glenn Antao