If fantastic and fabulous can become fantabulous, then can awesome and wonderful become awful?? Why should english be so nerve-wrenching, brain-racking crazy? Professional writers advise to use the "hook" concept of writing. The first line has to hook your reader. Hence the above completely irrelevant and inconsequential pretension of "genuine" pondering as an attempt from myself.
Anyway, today we shall discuss about two things that have been on my mind lately. First, When someone tells you he/she/it works for Hello FM, why does it force you to ask he/she/it if he/she/it is an RJ? It sone of those most pathetic moments. It jsut displays your ignorance on a pedestal with appropriate lighting like the Mona Lisa in Louvre.
Secondly, this conversation that's been freaking the hell out of me, the idea lifted from a cartoon but the execution so perfect, the plagiarism could be ignored. Note: Not reported verbatim.
A: Dude, I have a serious problem.
B: Hmm, Serious, You say?
A: Yeah man, Its serious.
B: Seriously?
A: Seriously.
B: Seriously serious?
A: Stop kidding and be serious will you?
B: So you're not joking? Its really a problem?
A: Yes, a serious one at that.
B: Okay, seriously, what could be troubling you so seriously?
A: Serious.
B: I am.
A: So am I.
B: So tell me. Whats the issue at hand?
A: Its serious.
B: (sigh) and you say I;m not serious enough.
A: WHAT , SERIOUSLY, IS YOUR FUCKIN PROBLEM?
B: Seriously, serious is my problem.
A: And this problem is serious?
B: The word "Serious" is seriously my problem and its a serious problem.
A: What?
B: Nothing.
A: No, seriously, tell me. Count on me.
B: I am.
A: So tell me.
B: I just did.
A: You're serious?
B: yeah and so is my problem.
A: Why exactly is "serious" seriously troubling you?
B: I can't seem to stop saying it.
A: Seriously?
B: Seriously.
A: Man, that's serious.
B: I told ya.
A: Ok, seriously, I've gotta go home. This conversations freaking me out.
B: Seriously?
A: Seriously.
B: Alrighty then, catch you later.
A: You too.
B: Seriously? When?
A: ^%&%*^@#@@#%^^&&*
===================
05-Jul-2008
A day at work
01-Jul-2008
Its fun to begin with Ok so...
Ok so, Long time no see folks. Its just that these days whatever free time I can obtain I spend cursing myself and head banging...well banging my head on the wall and asking myself why? Why? why? Its either that my head is empty or there're really dark chambers in there cuz these sounds resonate in some echo kinda noise.
I know its kinda stupid to say I'm way too busy. Its foolish to say I dont find time. I do. I spend it sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. Its fun. Helps me concentrate better than meditation does. My flash memory finally gets some reprive. One good thing that has happened in this intermittent hiatus I give between my posts is this: I have finally come to terms with my memory condition. Earlier I refused to acknowledge it. Now I gladly agree that I am terribly bad at remembering simple things...that its irritating and that I cant do anything about it.
Consequently, my pockets are filled with a million lists some torn some washed and dried along with the pants some that resemble currency notes.
Point in concern...This is a personal blog. I know I cant put this address out to my employer and expect him to appreciate my fucked up write ups precisely for this. Profanity. Obscenity. Its fun to write this way. This is how I can when I write from the bottom of my heart. And thats precisely what got me into blogging. or its an excuse to cook up shitty tales about my life and attempt to make them sound interesting. Either which ways, secondary point in concern, I'm like a blind sheep wandering in a desert. I'm hungry, thirsty and this post has no aim or direction. Its meant to let you all know that I intend to survive despite sand storms and optical illusions.
But I really feel this post has connected disparate thoughts into a finer lace than some of today's lyric writers can manage. Who's the baap? Mere Baap, pehle aap. Crap! Adios Amigos.
I know its kinda stupid to say I'm way too busy. Its foolish to say I dont find time. I do. I spend it sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. Its fun. Helps me concentrate better than meditation does. My flash memory finally gets some reprive. One good thing that has happened in this intermittent hiatus I give between my posts is this: I have finally come to terms with my memory condition. Earlier I refused to acknowledge it. Now I gladly agree that I am terribly bad at remembering simple things...that its irritating and that I cant do anything about it.
Consequently, my pockets are filled with a million lists some torn some washed and dried along with the pants some that resemble currency notes.
Point in concern...This is a personal blog. I know I cant put this address out to my employer and expect him to appreciate my fucked up write ups precisely for this. Profanity. Obscenity. Its fun to write this way. This is how I can when I write from the bottom of my heart. And thats precisely what got me into blogging. or its an excuse to cook up shitty tales about my life and attempt to make them sound interesting. Either which ways, secondary point in concern, I'm like a blind sheep wandering in a desert. I'm hungry, thirsty and this post has no aim or direction. Its meant to let you all know that I intend to survive despite sand storms and optical illusions.
But I really feel this post has connected disparate thoughts into a finer lace than some of today's lyric writers can manage. Who's the baap? Mere Baap, pehle aap. Crap! Adios Amigos.
