Those Kind of Eyes

I picked up some stray kittens a few days ago.
I found myself talking a lot to God.
He wasn't very helpful.
But He gives good hugs.

Me: Why in Your Name did You make me pick up those kittens?? I can’t help them! They’re BLIND! And they can’t even pee on their own…

God: It’s called having some humanity. And not much common sense.

Me: Yeah, You made them cute so that they would appeal to the nurturing side of humans. Then some poor sod will pick their little bodies up and bring them home in a Maggi box. And then? I’m not a mother cat! I don’t have six nipples! I’m not even lactating! They’ll die in the night while I sleep, and what purpose would that serve?

God: Eh, hello. You think that just because I coughed in your direction and gave you a soul means living would be easy is it? Choices are not supposed to be easy. You are supposed to put some thought in it. You are human right? Not an ant?...You’re not an ant, are you?

Me: No, I am not an ant.

God: Good. Sometimes I forget. I didn’t want to insult you if you were an ant and I had missed out your evolution into bipedal automatons with vocal chords.

Me, slightly confused: But…You just described humans.

God: Oh…That was certainly not my intention. At all. This is not a witty social commentary, or anything of that sort. After all, who am I to tell you what’s what.

Me: …

*

Me: Well, they all died.

God: I’m sorry to hear that.

Me: I guess they’re in a better place.

God: I guess.

Me: ………………………………………..what do You mean You guess????????????????

God: If I told you everything, you might as well be God, innit?

Me: ARGH.

*

God: How are you doing then?

Me: I’m fine. Totally fine. Thanks.

God: Here’s a hug.

*hug*

God: It’s also called a slight restoration of faith. You’ll have to give it time.

Me: You never give us enough time.

God: I always give you just enough.

*

Man of the Day

Today at lunch, our coworker James was telling us about the few years he spent growing up in a Oil Palm Plantation in Kelantan.

Why am I telling you this?
Because in James' stories lived the most badass man ever.

The Cobra Story

James: There was one time I was walking with my sister. Then she suddenly stopped and started walking backwards. I was wondering what was wrong with her. Then she ran off screaming. So I just thought she was being weird.

Us: Omg. Your sister left you to die!!!!!

James: Then I turned around and there was a cobra there. But it was okay. I didn't move or poke it or anything, so it just sat there, minding it's own business. And then my uncle shot it in the head.

Us: WTF faces

James: Can you imagine? I was just a kid. I don't like snakes now.

The Crocodile Story

James: I don't like crocodiles either. There was this pond on the plantation. One day, my sister and I were just walking around the pond, and then I saw a log. It was big, and it was drifting towards my dog, who was paddling around. The log kept drifting faster and faster towards my dog. And then my uncle shot it in the head. The log was a crocodile.

The Soup Story

James: So then after the crocodile's carcass floated to the surface, they dragged it out of the water. They skinned it and hung out to dry in front of my uncle's place.

Us: Ewww.

James: I went over to my uncle's place, and my aunt was making soup. I can't speak Chinese, and she can't speak English, so she just served me some soup. I love soup. So I just sat down and happily ate it lah. And it was so delicious.

Us: Oh man...

James: Then I tried to ask her where she got the chicken from, because it was so fat and juicy. The chickens on the plantation all look like they gonna die d. Then my mum came over, so I asked her to ask my aunt.

Mum: James, you know what soup is that?
James: Chicken lah! It's very nice! Want some?
Mum: James...you remember or not the crocodile that they took out of the pond this morning? And hung in front there?
James:..Yeah. Why.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................oh.

Although the last story was not relevant to badassery, I think you can imagine what kind of person James' uncle is.
A badass kind of person.

This is what I think excerpts from his autobiography would sound like:

*

page 31

Today I saw a tiger. I shot it. It died.
I ate it.

*

page 56

Today an armadillo made eye contact with me. I shot it. It ran. I shot it until it stopped running.
And then I ate it.

*

page 74

Today my gun didn't work. I had to stomp a monitor lizard to death.

*

James' uncle, this is something I rarely get to say to living, non-fictional people:

You are badass.

The Tides of Man

The other day I was at Pyramid with Kat. While waiting for Kat to buy a donut (because she has a stomach the size of an army base), I watched the people on the ice-skating rink.

Of course, the first person who caught my eye was this dude with The Most Disastrous Haircut On Earth. No joke. He looked like he ran headfirst into an orange pompom. Kat said it was not too bad, and hey, who am I to judge other people's life choices?

I am Sam, just to clarify that.

Then Kat came back and we spent the nxt 15 minutes watching this cute couple skate around. Except the longer we watched, the more we realised that they weren't actually a couple.
The girl was a much better skater than the guy, and she kept leaving him behind, or skating just out of his reach. The guy pretty much sucked. But he obediently struggled all over the ice, with her just inches away. Just inches away, but out of his reach.

HA HA HA HA.

Basically, he was there ONLY for the girl. And he was quite cute, but the girl seemed quite immune. She was immune all over the rink. I wonder if he regrets strapping on the skates now. Still, she might thaw once they were off the ice.

It was sweet though. I was witnessing an age-old human ritual : Courtship. Or at least an attempt at one.

It's almost time for a carol

Oh Chariots

Domestic Goddess.
Your mileage may vary.

Yesterday, my housemates and I, in a sudden spurt of domesticity, rearranged the (little) furniture we have, stripped the couch, and washed the cover.

See, we have this big blue IKEA couch that we got from a bunch of students who abandoned their apartment. With all their furniture still inside. And clothes. And books, kitchen utensils, umbrellas, and mangas and a vacuum cleaner. Basically looks like a tornado blasted through and picked up all the human beings.

I know what you're thinking. It would be what I was thinking when I walked up to the front door with Liz, my housemate, and the girl who had the door key.

Scene:

It was evening and it was pitch dark. It was a corner apartment. There were no lights. At all. Even the door looked dodgy and dusty. It screamed dead druggies inside (Imagine that. I know you can. You've watched just as many episodes of CSI as I have).
Me: Uhhhhhh...is this the right place?
Key girl: Yeah
Liz: Why is it so dark?
Key girl: Oh, the electricity got cut
Liz and I exchange looks.

Inside:

Liz: Holy fuck.
Me: Is that anime? Did they just leave boxes of anime lying around??
Key girl: Yeah...they wanted to leave really fast.
Liz and I exchange ominous looks.
Me: Er...why?

(Probability No 1 One of them went on a murderous rampage, forcing the others to flee and explaining the personal belongings strewn about
Probability No 2 They tangled with drug dealers. Now they don't tangle with anyone anymore. Ever again. Explaining the massive mess no one seemed to be around to clean up.
Probability No 3 A horrible person-eating monster crawled out from the darkness and ate them. Explains everything.)

Key girl, shrugging: I don't know.The owner ran away, I think.

So that would be like, Probability No 1? Unless the owner was a drug dealer, too.

The Couch:

Liz: The couch looks really nice, though
Me: Yeah.
The big, dusty, splotchy couch stares at us gloomily.
Liz and I exchange happy looks.
Me: It's perfect!
Liz: It's so big!
Me: I wonder if we can carry -- Holy shit this thing is heavy!
Liz: Uh oh.

See, the apartment block is like 5 minutes away from our place. Not far enough to justify renting a lorry. But not near enough to be a walk in the park lugging a bed-sized couch.

In one of the Bedrooms:

Key girl: So do you guys want a bed? I can give it to you cheap.
Liz: Don't these people want their stuff back?
We stare around the room, huddled in the two square feet of floor space not covered by crap.
Key girl, shrugging: Nope. So do you want a cupboard? Mattress? Books? Clothes? Bras?
Me & Liz: Ewwwwwww

Outside:

Me, holding rainbow coloured umbrella: Oh my god, this is so cute!
Liz: Oh my god, yeah!
Me: We can use it on rainy days!
Liz: And it will look so adorable!
Key girl: Um, I don't think so that's such a good idea.
Liz: What? Why not?
Key girl: Because we believe that, you know, things can hide in it. And come out when you open it.
Me, oblivious: What things?
Key girl, obviously wondering where I grew up: You know. Things.
Me & Liz: Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh
Key girl: But you can take anything else though.

So that is basically the story of our couch. And now it's naked. It's clothes are sitting on top of it, but none of us, domestic goddesses that we are, can figure out how to put it back on.
But we will. Eventually. Really.

Vintage Retro Superpower Doll Hero

I was thinking about all the costumes I saw people dressed up in on Halloween...angel, demon, bee/spider hybrid, vampire, ship admiral, mummy, vampire, Jabbawockeez, construction workers, vampire, spiderwoman, CLARK KENT, vampire...and it was so cool. It was cool.
I wished I had gone as Yuko Ichihara. Or even Mokona.

Oh well.

And then I wondered why people dress up on Halloween.

I know, I know. Why do I even care? I've watched enough Buffy the Vampire Slayer (because obviously Buffy is a dependable knowledge guide) to know that it's the time when the monsters and stuff walk around...aimlessly..because everyone looks like them now. And it's something to do with Samhain (yeah, I'm talking about you, Pumpkin Head).
And, uh, that's it.

So I wiki-ed it.
I know! I mean, I don't even know what's on the headlines of the newspaper today and yet I can waste my time Wiki-ing halloween?? It's terrible. Tragic. The values of society these days have gone down the toilet bowl with the sound of the environmentally friendly half-flush.

So anyway, I read it.

Or at least I read half of it, and then got bored.

Why do they write such long posts? Don't they realise the modern attention span is about 1.5 minutes long (and that is an optimistic estimate)? I was totally distracted with searching for Buffy images while waiting for something interesting to happen on the Wiki halloween page. I mean, a celebration of summer? Come on, people! No gruesome underage sacrifices? No naked pagan chanting? No horrific badass monster king? Why am I reading this page again?

Conclusion: It's obvious that Halloween serves no higher purpose than as a glorified LARPing session.

Next year I will go as broccoli.

Awesome Has Many Names

I watched Star Trek.

Here is my review of Star Trek.

Big Opening Scene:

Big aloe vera shaped ship appears through A BLACK HOLE IN FRONT OF USS KELVIN without sucking in said ship or causing any damage to the surrounding bits of space.
Disbelief suspended.

NERO, COMMANDER OF NARADA (the poky looking ship): Come on board for absolutely no reason other than to promote your First Officer, George KIRK to CAPTAIN after you die.

USS KELVIN CAPTAIN ROBAU (aka most screwed over captain in Federation history): I am going to go on a suicide mission to ensure that KIRK has a hero for a father.

ROBAU and George KIRK DIE saving the crew of KELVIN while DR CAMERON gives birth to JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK.

Backstory Scene Kirk:

KIRK: By stealing this antique car and driving it over the ledge, I am proving to you what a genius dickwad I am. Also, I am really, really blonde. And cute. Just wait til I grow up.

Backstory Scene Spock:

SPOCK beats up some VULCAN kids who make fun of his name. And the fact that he’s half Vulcan/ half human.

SPOCK: Dad, why did you marry Winona Ryder?
SPOCK’S DAD: I wanted my kid to have nice eyes.
SPOCK: Guess that worked out well for you.

MANY YEARS LATER:

VULCAN HIGH COUNCIL: Despite your mother being only 8 years older than you, you have turned out pretty normal. We accept your application to Vulcan school that every Vulcan attends anyway.

SPOCK: Did you just diss my mum?

VULCAN HIGH COUNCIL: Uh, yeah.

SPOCK: Fuck this, I'm joining Starfleet.

SPOCK joins STARFLEET.


In random spacebar

KIRK, hitting on SUPERFOX UHURA: Hi. I'm awesome, as you may have noticed from my devil may care attitude, blue blue eyes and kissable mouth. And nice ass.

SUPERFOX UHURA: Huh? Is this Star Trek or a Maxim live-action issue?

KIRK: Says the fanbait.

KIRK then gets beaten up by half a dozen starfleet cadets. Getting beaten up and hanging from ledges seem to be the limit of KIRK's awesomeness.

CAPTAIN PIKE to KIRK, drooling on the FLOOR: We haven't recruited enough good looking people for the year. Why don't you join up?

KIRK joins STARFLEET


Stay tuned for PART TWO.

Ryan Conferido

Ryan would never yell for a girl to drop her hair out the window.

As a hairdresser, he'd understand the damage that would do to the follicles.

Today I was reading Jack and the Beanstalk and Other Stories (the illustrated version) when I realized I was Rapunzel.

Yep.

The long haired one, stuck in a tower with no sanitation and a psychotic witch for a guardian. Those things are, of course, not the things I have in common with her.

The reason why I am Rapunzel is because we share a common flaw. Our taste in men. Our standards are low at best, and non-existent otherwise.

Rapunzel is this longhaired, magically endowed hottie, cursed to sit in a tower because she is so incredibly beautiful that the insane witch who traded her from her parents didn’t want her to ever leave. In the tower, I assume she has nothing better to do except think deep philosophical thoughts about God and the meaning of life and the creation, and I bet she reads a lot too, not to mention all the knitting and weaving and chore-doing the witch would have made her do. So I figure she’s pretty smart, and talented.

So who ends up being the required prince charming for Rapunzel? Some guy who comes around her window, screaming at her to drop her hair down because he’s too lazy to use the stairs.

Asshole.

And he does this again and again.

Does it ever occur to him to defeat the evil witch and save Rapunzel from her unsanitary conditions? Nope. He’s happy taking her for granted and using her head as an anchor.

Does he ever think that maybe the next time he climbs up her hair he should bring a ladder so that both of them can climb down? Nope. He’s happy keeping her in that convenient tower, away from his wife and fifteen kids.

Does it ever occur to her to tell him to get lost? Nope.

So he’s selfish and he takes her for granted. That’s not even the best part.

When the witch finds out, she cuts off Rapunzel’s hair, tricks the prince and pushes him off the tower, into a bunch of brambles, causing him to go completely blind and therefore rendering the already useless prince completely redundant. Why? Because after the prince blindly prances off, Rapunzel escapes by herself.

By. Her. Self.

The prince was of no use whatsoever.

In fact, after awhile, Rapunzel actually stumbles upon him wandering around aimlessly because he’s blind and too arrogant to ask people to teach him Braille so that he can get a proper job, and she saves his ass by dragging him off and them living happily ever after on the evil witches vegetable farm. And of course because he’s blind she gets to do all the farmwork.

Moral of story: You should have thrown him off the tower after the first time.

A Suitable Boy

I bet no one tells her she has to get married

I have had an interesting week. Although I have been sick for most of it, (which wasn’t so bad because the meds were dope and I got to sleep all day and not do chores hahaha).
The interesting part is that since last week my mother has been trying to get me married off.
No really.
Not even hooked up. Married off. To her best friend’s brother-in-law.

It started when we went to her BFF’s house. Over drinks:

Gossipgossipgossip suddenly…
Kiran (Mum’s BFF): Yeah, and mum asked if Samantha would be interested in marrying him…
Me: Choking on juice.
Kiran: But of course I told her she’s only twenty-three (like as if that isn’t positively ancient by Indian bride standards) hahaha.
Mum & Kiran: Hahahaha (while looking at me meaningfully)
Me: Hahahaha (what the…)

Later at home:

Mum: Are you sure you don’t want to meet him?
Me (while ironing, because I am like, so rajin at home…not): Meet who?
Mum: Kiran’s brother-in-law (he apparently doesn’t have a name, besides brother-in-law)
Me: Eh? Why? Won’t I, like, see him when we go over there anyway?
Mum: Well. I mean like meet him meet him.
Me (nearly burning top that I am ironing): What??? WHAT FOR?? I DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED!! I DON’T EVEN OWN A CAR!!
Mum: He’s very good looking.
Me: Throwing up over ironing board.

The next day:

Mum: You know sweetie, when you get married, you should marry someone who’s intelligent and educated. Someone who won’t bring you down. Who has a job.
Me (now, This sounds like my normal mum): Yes Mum. I know.
Mum: He’s a lawyer, you know. He has a good job. And he seems like a nice boy.

Later that night:

Me: Why are you trying to get me married off? You used to tell me to never get married young.
Mum: I know sweetie. But he seems like a nice boy (seriously. Since when did nice boy become the number one prerequisite for husband material?). And I thought you were interested.
Me: Maaaaaaaaaaaa…I’ve only met him once, for like ten seconds. Three years ago.
Mum: Okay sweetie. I love you. Good night.



* Interested = Gee, I think he’s hot. I agree with that. He was hot. How Interested = Gee, I think I WANT TO GET MARRIED TO SOME RANDOM STRANGER WHOSE NAME I DON’T EVEN KNOW is beyond my understanding.

Yesterday (seems wonderboy left for KL because of his incredible lawyerly job):

Mum (after talking on the phone with BFF): She said that her mum’ll give you his email so that you can check out his whatchamacallit.
Me: (His what?) His what? Oh. His facebook.
Mum: Her mum’s such a joker.

Uh huh.

This morning:

Mum: Are you sure you don’t want his email?
Me: I’m sure!!!!
Mum: How about I give him yours?
Me (mentally scanning my facebook photos): NO!
Mum: Have you added me on your facebook yet?
Me: (seeing as my whole family and their uncles are already in my account anyway) Uh, not yet.

Before lunch:

Mum: Why don’t you want to get married sweetie?
Me: I don’t want to get married now! I’m only 23! I’ll get married when I’m 32!
Mum: Sweetie, no one will want to marry you if you’re 32.
Me: Speechless.

Bring It On

The Incredible Gargantuan Missy-Poo (no, it isn't just the angle. She really is that big)

The other day I was having a conversation with my cat, Missy.
I actually don’t have that many talks with my cat, outside of who’s the cutest darling-poo?? and Hey fatso, aren’t you the cutest little poopy-poo awwwwww.

You know. Normal pet stuff.

But there had been a disturbance several nights ago, and our floor had been valiantly protected by a good-looking ginger tom from upstairs.
I was curious as to why the ginger tom would bother doing so, unless for the approval of my (not so) little blue eyed poopsy.

Me: Hey fats, who’s that handsome kitty what’s been hanging around eh?

Missy: Look of utter boredom

Me: Oh I see. He means nothing to you yeah? Despite the fact he’s been a-dangering hisself night in and night out at our front grill? Ain’t you an ungrateful dame.

Missy: Yawns uncontrollably.

Me: Sigh. I guess that’s how we should treat men…males. Toms. Guys. Whatever. In a few days he’ll be valiantly defending some other lady’s door, if you know what I mean.

Missy: Puts her head on her paws and ignores me.

Me: Oh wait. Sorry. That’s how you treat everyone. Idiot cat.

Missy: Twitches in her sleep.

Me: But I guess I should at least take a page out of your book…a fur out of your hindleg, so to speak.

So remember, boys and girls:


Those who are unworthy of us, we ignore.

Unless they are paying your salary.

Or feeding you (you heard that, you ungrateful feline? I’m putting you on a diet starting tomorrow. You’ll only be fed three times a day!!! HAH. Take that, Chunky. Oh no. Oh no no no, don’t look at me with those big blue eyes…okay, I’ll feed you at tea time too. Okay, okay, supper as well. Okay, whenever you ask me too. Damn cat).

RaggedyAnn(e)

I'm having flu. Or cold, whichever irritating common illness brilliant scientists of the ages have yet to wipe off the face of the earth.



Not wanting to go to the doctor because they'd just give me antibiotics that have never worked before (true story: I had to go to the doctor three times to cure a bout of cold, that eventually self-cured after several months. Medicine! Pah!), I am going to take the path of self cure.



Using the ever-trustworthy internet, I set out upon my quest.



Acupuncture to cure a cold? Hmmm.


Sleep a lot? Okay.


Drink a lot (no alcohol or tea though)? Possible.


Did you know the worst phase of flu/cold is after the 3rd day? That's when you wonder why you were brought on to this earth.



So anyway, while I am finding all these stuff and wondering why I ever bothered going to doctors, I stumble upon an article, with this line:





Each year influenza kills almost 3000 Australians





WTF?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????


FLU KILLS PEOPLE???????????????????????????????????????????????????

Isn't living in fear of contracting actual fatal illnesses like CANCER and HEART DISEASE bad enough, now we have to be afraid of FLU?

God, this is seriously UnCool.


Yeah, I'm talking to you, Big Guy. Creating chocolate cake and Chuck Bass ain't making up for this one.



Although this cake reaps a lot of Forgiveness Points for sheer Awesomeness.


And also these cakes:

Tim Burton = Incredibly weird awesomeness

Campbellian Heroes

Today I discovered the insides of my condensed milk container to be lightly sprinkled with mold.
Yes. Mold.

As I stood there holding the innocent pink container that suddenly made me want to throw up, I thought:

So. This is what referigerators are for.

Cleaning the container, I swore to myself that I would never fall victim to green extremist beliefs and sacrifice my health to save the world (even a little bit). Other people can slaughter their garden-reared sheep and eat soggy veg from the lawn.
I ain't buying into that.

And, hey, cheapskate hostel people, when are you going to enable us to keep our foods in more hygienic circumstances? Before or after we are infected with an outbreak of mold disease?

I can just imagine their tiny, furry little hyphae expanding and taking over our water based cells, slowly turning us into FREAKING WALKING FUNGI!!!

Is this what you want, University Authorities? To force-spawn a new breed of Homo Cladosporium to get global attention, because obviously getting a gazillion dollar grant from the government for no other reason than as a short term solution to the epic problem of our COUNTRY'S EDUCATION SYSTEM SUCKING PLATYPUS BALLS is not good enough for you?

That is so UnCool, seriously.

Like, wth kind of superpowers would mushroom people have anyway? You could have thought this through, Evil Academic Scientists, and turned us into SuperPowered Beings (I dibs on the diamond forcefields), but no. You're taking the Easy Way Out.

I'm beginning to think you don't really want the global recognition for doing something intelligent and winning the Nobel Prize in Amoral Gene Manipulation.

That would mean you're just plain attention whores.

I am truly disappointed, USM Scientists.

I could have used some of those forcefields.

On another note...

Assuming being bonded to THIS fungi doesn't turn one into Smurfette, or cause hysterical blindness, one might actually turn into AYLAA SECURA. Which is really not such a bad thing, all things considered.

I for one would sign up for it.

If you do not know who AAYLA SECURA is...

Hi, I am AAYLA'SECURA. I am a Twi'Lek, aka the sexgoddesses of the StarWarsVerse. I am also the Hottest Jedi Ever. And my lightsaber matches my skintone. W00t.

I've Been Waiting All Night For You To Dance Like Me

Dengar sini kawan-kawan. Aku ingin memberitahu kepadamu pengalaman aku menonton ABDC.

Apakah itu ABDC? Ia bukan penulisan empat huruf pertama oleh orang dyslexic.

Ia adalah America's Best Dance Crew.

Iya.

Sebenarnya, apabila KATGIRL mula-mula memperkenalkan aku dan HEARTBREAKER kepada ABDC yang disimpan dengan bangganya dalam pendrive dari jauh nun sana kampus kejut, aku agak tidak percaya kehebatannya.

Sebab aku rasa SYTYCD lagi hebat. Anda tidak tahu apa itu SYTYCD? Inilah masanya untuk menggunakan Google search bar kat atas tu. Too bad kalau you all takde. Guna Google biasa je.

Anyway (anyway dalam bm tu ape? Walaubagaimanapun eh? Eww. Tak hot dowh), kami pun tengok kat laptop Heartbreaker.

KG kata crew lain semua membosankan, so dia bagi kami tengok Quest Crew.

Aku tahu kenapa KG buat macam tu. Dia nak pastikan yang we all takkan lari lepas tengok sekali. Dia nak pastikan yang kami sentiasa berada dalam situasi Pepsi.

You know.

Ask For More.

First time aku tengok Quest Crew, aku rasa comel gak. D-Trix tu boleh tahan, dan Steve memang hebat ar (aku maksudkan skil menari dieorg, bukan tahap ke-hot-an.Yang tu, aku akan ulaskan kemudian).

Kami tengok setiap episod, tapi hanya segmen Quest Crew. Sebenarnya aku rasa Beat Freaks hebat jugak. Rino tu hot.

And then in episode 7, Hirano tore his shirt off.

Holy Mother of Ganja.

Cukuplah aku kata yang kami menjadi penyokong setia Quest Crew.

Of course bukan hanya sebab kami mendapat gratituitious partial nudity yang kami menjadi penyokong. Itu hanya salah satu sebab.

Sebab lain adalah Ryan yang Cute (bukan Ryan Feng, yang tak Cute, tapi agak cute in a Nerdy Way).

Oh, dan kebolehan menari mereka yang memang hebat nak mampus.

Victor pun cute jugak.

No Art To See

I was just thinking about the state of humanity today. How people can lie and cheat and swindle and manipulate without decent people even realising it. How something weird or bizarre or life-changing or life-threatening can just happen within the space of a few words. And all those people out there who don't have the natural defense of Lying and Evasion are basically screwed.

Not.

Actually I was thinking about Kat being hit on by a lesbian waitress at Nando's SEVERAL TIMES without her even realising it.
And after she did, she was too nice to ignore the girl. But I think she's just not capable of Lying and Evasion. At all.

So I think that the people who are really good at this kind of stuff should sit down and write a book about it, so that ALL of humanity has a fighting chance. And Kat will have the capability to avoid such...interludes.

The name of the book should of course be

LYING AND EVASION: A Guide To Being A Baseline Human

and have chapters like:

1. How To Lie

2. How To Lie Without That Obvious Silence Between The Question You Have Been Asked And The Lie You Are About To Tell

3. How To Evade Without Staring At Your Feet

4. How To Lie To Loved Ones Right To Their Face

5. How To Evade Without Lying

6. Body Language: The Anatomy Of A Lie And How To Look Good Doing It

7. How To Lie Unconvincingly So That You Sound Like You Are Reluctantly Telling The Truth

8. How To Spread Slander Guiltlessly

And so on and so forth.

The Mirror Crack'd

beneath this deep, is there something else?

Today...yesterday I mean...I talked to someone who reads.

Yes, yes, I know, all of you guys can read.

Or else you wouldn't be able to appreciate my elegant prose etc etc.


This guy actually reads.

Not only does he read Shakespeare, he can QUOTE it.

Not only does he read Hardy, he reads Hardy's POEMS.

Not only does he read classic literature, he even reads FEMALE writers.

You see where I'm going here?

Did I mention he can QUOTE Shakespeare?


I don't know if he is some self-made construct who will disintegrate when faced with reality.

But I just would like to say that he gave me back my faith in humanity, and in men.

Thank you for reading.