Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Move over Bieber, it is Rebecca Black

Where do I start? The auto-tuned vocals? The lyrics that convey the issues of pre-teens everywhere such as whether to sit in the front seat or the back seat of a car. She also helpfully reminds us what are the days before and after Friday. Here is a sample:

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes afterwards
I don't want this weekend to end

Covers of this amazing song is already all over youtube. Here is a really nice acoustic one.

And my fav so far, a hilarious metal version:

Kinda feel bad for Rebecca Black, she's only 13 but she's probably gonna be teased mercilessly in school for this. It is a godawful song despite its insanely catchy chorus, no one would have thought it would have gone viral like it did.

Monday, March 21, 2011

I am LIKE a diseased whore

Note: This is a draft post from 2007. I just completed it and posting it now.

You know you are getting old when your butt starts getting fractured and lumps start appearing around your body. Yes, to affirm that my recent butt issues were no fluke, a huge pimple like structure had appeared on my left cheek. At first I ignored it, hoping that it would go away, but it just got bigger and bigger. In fact, it had gotten so big that I wanted to give it a name. Finally, I decided to do something about it so I went to get it checked out, which meant another visit to the polyclinic.

I got referred to the dermatologist who diagnosed it as a wart. Ugh saying it makes me queasy, isn't that supposed to only happen to old people, you know the kind with the really wrinkly skin who frankly look quite disgusting? Anyway she made an appointment for me to come back to get it removed the following week, which I did.

So there I was the following week at the clinic in the morning, and after a 5 minute wait I was lead into this room by a nurse, where I was told to lie down on this long operating table. A rather young doctor then came in and introduced herself and explained that she will be burning off the ward with one of their instruments that looked like a hot iron. It would be quick and painless, and I should be out of there in 30 minutes. She was kinda cute, I should ask her out after this was over, I thought to myself. Oh wait , she's removing a freaking wart from my face.

As I was prepping myself for the ordeal I realized the doctor had one of her blouse buttons loose. I was lying down at an angle where I had a pretty nice view of her assets constrained by a bra that looked way too small. Of course I immediately looked away , being the gentleman I am , but before I could, she caught me. Her face twisted in disgust , but being a true professional that she was she didn't say anything , nor let me explain that she caught me in that microsecond before I looked away.

She readied her little needle pumped with local anesthesia and without warning jammed it into the soft tissue that was my left cheek. (Face not butt). The pain was almost unbearable but was gone in an instant. But there was something in her eye that told me that was not the only pain I was going to feel that day.

She spun away from me , and after a few minutes she turned back with a heating rod. She asked me if I was ready, and before I could nod my head she placed it on my wart. I immediately smelt burning flesh, and eventhough it was mine, it wasn't that bad a smell, a bit like barbequed pork.

So there I was , smelling my own burning flesh and feeling hungry since I didn't have lunch, they told me not to. It went on for around 15 minutes, but suddenly I started feeling this intense pain and I flinched. Her response was "oops, I guess I didn't put enough anesthetic". Yep she was getting back at me for my little peeping tom act, I was sure of it. I made a mental note never to peep at a doctor with equipment that could possibly hurt you. She signaled to the nurse who provided her with another needle, she jabbed it again into my cheek like as if she was testing the tenderness of a steak, and she was resumed her burning.

Another 5 minutes passed, and then it got weirder. She went "hmmmmmmm..." . I don't know about you but hmm is not something you wanna hear from a doctor who is operating on you. Weird ideas started popping into my head and I started imagining what she might say, maybe something like:

"Hmm ..Gilbert, guess what! You have a twin brother whom you absorbed into your body while you were a fetus. That was what I was trying to burn this last 15 minutes"

She stopped what she was doing and whispered something to the nurse who then left the room. I asked her what was going on, but she told me to be calm, and that the senior doctor would be in shortly, apparently what I had was NOT a wart.

So there I was freaking out, wondering what the hell the thing on my face was. Thankfully my wait was short, this old dude (aka the senior doctor) came in 3 minutes later. He looked at my cheek, and then they started having this medical discussion. I hate it when doctors have THAT discussion, the one where they use all this bombastic latin words that normal people don't understand. It went something like "Apropos, it seems like a mea culpic distension , le sa vie?" Incredibly annoying.

Finally they turned to me and explained. It was a cyst not a wart. They had to do a different procedure, basically have to operate and dig it out, and they needed my consent to do so since it was different from the original procedure. They handed me a piece of paper which i assumed was a consent form and asked me to sign it. Bear in mind this is all happening while I was on lying on the floor with half my cheek burned off. I scribbled something resembling my signature and begged them to finish it.

An hour later it was over. Now the only thing that remains of that day is that scar on my cheek. Of course I tell chicks it's from a knife fight when I was trying to protect a woman from a robber.

Seafood dinner on Thursday

My third seafood dinner in a space of 2 weeks
It would be completely awesome except it's the one thing I don't eat
Nibbling on my seafood fried rice while everyone else gorges on crab
Their moans of pleasure anger me, I silently wished they all get fat
Then it got worse, someone brought up Raquel
Got reminded of school, begin reliving my personal hell
My trauma turned to horror when they started laughing at a joke about limbless women
Empathy is obviously not an emotion that my friends could never ever learn
At a table surrounded by beautiful nymphets, came the realization I was completely alone.
Looked away into the distance, in the shadows was a crow picking slowly on a chicken bone.
It stopped suddenly and looked at me, I could swear it felt my despair
Then it flew away , but not before giving me a sympathetic nod , as if it was telling me it cared.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Completely Manly Poem for a Friend

You came to my life in January this year.
Always so well dressed, but I would too if I lived so near
You brought joy to my miserable life, and I thank you for that
But just as quickly you announced you have to go, that just makes me so sad.
Why do you need to leave , stay with me I asked
You said it was fun while it was lasted, but I should have known it was never gonna last
I am not looking forward to going back to how it was before you came
How can I now? As much as I lie to myself it would never be the same
But your mind is made up, I am not gonna fight you on this
Good luck and keep in touch, our short time together I shall forever miss

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 3

I woke up in a pool of blood. My own blood. It was pitch dark around me, I could only guess at how long I was unconscious. 5 hours, maybe 6. My hands were empty, the letter nowhere to be found. I pushed my palms against the floor and tried to get up but my arms just collapsed from under me. Helpless and cold, I wailed out the one thought in my mind. Raquel's name.

The sound of a chair suddenly interrupted my wailing. I looked around again, my eyes starting to adjust to the darkness , and I realize there was someone sitting in the corner of the room. Raquel!! She must have stayed!! She stood up and walked over to me silently. I managed to muster all my strength to lift up my head and look at her. It was not Raquel. It was Bala.

"You know Bertie, your poem was damn good hor. So good that I got date with Raquel because of your poem, don't play play. So thank you ah!"

Maybe it was the blood loss, but I couldn't fathom what he meant. "What are you saying Bala Subramaniam!! What did you do!!?" I screamed.

"Come on la, I thought you so smart one, you still don't know meh, I switched your letter with mine la, ha damn slow lor you."

So that was what happened. He switched my really eloquent letter with his own, probably one with full of vulgarities and even worse, horrid grammar. No wonder she slapped me. The thought filled my entire body with rage, and by some miraculous effort I stood up. Bala stood stunned by this show of strength from me and for a second I detected a hint of fear in his beautiful blue eyes. I walked slowly towards him , every step felt like a dagger through my entire spine, but that pain was nothing compared to the rage I felt inside. It was as if my entire insides were on fire and I needed to let it out.

(To be continued)

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Proof that I take my movie choices very seriously

This is a message I sent to my friends after we went to watch Adjustment Bureau which was the worst pile of crap I seen in a long while. Although the initial choice of the movie was not mine, I humbly and selflessly took the bullet for a loved one, as the mob we went to watch the movie were looking for someone to blame.

My friends,

I apologize for the debacle of last Friday. I take full responsibility for the movie choice, please do not blame R*****, my unwitting accomplice. If there is someone you need to hang on the cross let it be me . Even the best of us make mistakes sometimes, and I made a grave one last Friday. I cannot and will not offer any excuses, I should not have assumed that Matt Damon would never act in a bad movie.

However I hope we can move on from that very unpleasant episode. I would like to invite you all to a viewing of Rango starring Depp. We saw the trailer last week , and it seems to have some funny moments and the animation is impressive.

What say you my friends? Will you give me another chance at redemption. Or am I fated to hang on the proverbial cross for eternity? I will let you decide.

Not to toot my own horn, but Shakespeare would have been proud of that prose. Alas, the response to my amazingly eloquent yet heartfelt message was sadly disappointing. But I can't say I am surprised, in a world of sms-speak and LOLs it is obvious that the art of good writing is slowly writing. FML.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 2

So there I was, laughter ringing around my ears. But then there was one laughter that was louder and more cynical than the others, and it came from right behind me. I turned around and it was no other than Bala Subramaniam, my 7 foot arch enemy.

Bala Subramaniam is a boy who has been making my life hell the last 4 years. He was a dim-witted rugby player who found my interest in chess and poetry disgusting for whatever reason, and bullied me constantly. I looked up at the man mountain defiantly, daring him to make a move. It is a foolish man who tries to provoke a wounded animal, but Bala Subramaniam was a foolish man.

We locked eyes for the longest time , and then it hit me. He must have done it. He must be responsible for what happened. I looked back at Raquel and I noticed the letter was lying next to her on the floor. I immediately ran towards her but before I could grab it someone shoved me to the ground. Then suddenly I was surrounded by boys who started to kick me as I lay screaming on the ground. They must have thought I was trying to hurt Raquel .

The blows rained down and I let out a cry of pain each time they hit , but I kept crawling towards Raquel. I could feel bones snapping in my body and my eyes started to swell shut from the blows to my face. It seemed like an eternity, but I finally managed to reach Raquel, she was but an arm's length away. I stretched out and grabbed the letter with my bloodied hand. And then everything faded to black..

(To be continued)

Saturday, March 05, 2011

Pick Up Line I used yesterday

I helped a friend carry her laptop bag while she went to the ladies. When she got back, she asked me why the bag felt heavier and whether I put something in it.

I replied without missing a beat.

"Yes I did. My heart."

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Why I did not become a writer.

I had a few people telling me that I should have been a writer. Interestingly, that was my dream growing up. But then something happened that shattered my dream....

It was the summer of 95. I was a handsome young Indian boy with a love for romantic poetry and chess. She was a girl named Raquel. She had the most beautiful hair and a really big personality. Inspired by her grace and beauty, I wrote her a poem.

It was the best poem I ever wrote. In fact it was probably the best poem anyone has ever written. It was so good it made blind women cry , as well as regular women. I was ready to give it to her. I placed the poem into a nice little pink envelope and kept it under my desk and waited for the end of the session.

When class ended, I took the envelope and went over to where she was, and passed it to her confidently. She asked me what it was , I told her to read it and sauntered back to my desk.

As I sat down, I watched her open it and start to read it. Just as I expected, tears started rolling down her eyes, she was obviously moved by my eloquence. Then she started sobbing , which was a much stronger reaction than I expected. Her friends started going to her and asking her what was wrong.

Then she turned around and pointed to me. Her eyes.....they were full of hate. She got up slowly and walked up to me. I started to ask her why she was upset but before I could do so, I felt her hand across my cheek. Stunned, I looked at her perplexed. She then told me never to talk to her again. I staggered back , not knowing what just happened.

to be continued...