been unwell for the past week. sorry but there won't be any new posts for the time being =)

Nature vs Nurture?

What is a person's nature? Something that is ingrained into them by their genetics.Science dictates that the codes of who we are or will become are encrypted into our bodies upon the first conception and during the course of our mothers pregnancy.

Nurture? This is basically the environment that we are raised in. How the different interactions and experience we undergo in our environment reinforce certain parts of our personalities through both negative and positive reinforcement. Go read a psych book or ask Sher-Mayne (mumsy <3 ). I'm just a casual reader :p

In general scientists have come to the conclusion that both nature and nurture affect the final personality and person we become.

So then, which is my nature and which is my nurture, I hear you asking. Damned if I know to be honest! I'm still trying to figure out where I left my car keys let alone complex questions like that.

An additional complexity to add to this puzzle would be religion. Oh! Taboooooooo subbbjecccttt!!!

If poetry feeds the soul...

no wonder I'm such a skinny bugger!

*shushes yu chan*


The One

If I can't be,
your burning sun;
if I can't be
that special one,

then I'll be the wind,
that soothes your soul.
The calm in the air,
that keeps you whole.

I'll be the warmth,
that fills the empty space.
The whisper that puts
smiles on your face.

I'll be the gentle breeze
that dries your tears.
The cleansing air,
that clears your fears.

I'll be the soft echo,
of your tinkling laughter.
The calm before the storm,
and your strength after.

If you ever feel,
no one's there to care.
Close your eyes.
The wind is always there.

Adobe Photoshop Magic!

Before Magic



After Magic



who cares if your phone cam has so so pixels! With adobe anything can be fixed.

Nyek nyek to all of you people who spent millions on a 201232131244 mega pixed camera *grins*

Oh and its a good thing we didn't name the pup 'Lady'. Look at how she's sitting! *shakes head*

Still... some major cute points no?

Okay so I'm too lazy/tired to post anything today. Its a good thing no ones paying me for this :o

Hows this for an idea then. I know I've been ever so cruel to ugly people in my blogging. I'm about to make it up to you now! Send me your ugliest picture and entitle it : 'Make me Beautiful' and I'll do just that and post the top three here in my blog :D

If you're super confidant about your looks or have a friend you think could use a knock down or two confidence wise, send me an email entitled : 'Make me Vince' and I'll bring out the 'dark' side of him.

cgdevoli@hotmail.com

all in good fun ;)

Non perfomance? Get a lawyer!!

This one's pretty hilarious - taken from this blog - http://www.myboyfriendisatwat.com/

Do pop by and take a read, she's got a nice touch with her perspectives and writing style. And no, I'm not advertising for a friend, just happened to browse by and take a read. Any way :

Ten Hubbies and still a VIRGIN?

A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced ten husbands. On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."

"What?" said the puzzled groom. "How can that be if you've been married ten times?"

"Well, husband #1 was a sales representative. He kept telling me how great it was going to be.

Husband #2 was in software services. He was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.

Husband #3 was from field services. He said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.

Husband #4 was in telemarketing. Even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.

Husband #5 was an engineer. He understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.

Husband #6 was from finance and administration. He thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.

Husband #7 was in marketing. Although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it." "

Husband #8 was a psychologist. All he ever did was talk about it.

Husband #9 was a gynecologist. All he did was look at it.

Husband #10 was a stamp collector. All he ever did was... God! I miss him!

But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"

"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"

"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"

1000!

Yea yea.. I know its lame celebrating 1000 hits... but heck... this is my HOUSE... ummm... blog. So I can be as lame as I want! :p

Thanks to ya'll for reading me.

I'll post the 'cure' to the haze later. Hold your breaths for the solution to all solutions.

One

Vince

The Towel Story

Thanks a LOT Audrey! *waves fist*

Okay... here goes people. This will be your laugh at my expense for the month. This happened some time last year. Or perhaps even before that. Like I said, Audrey is a database of peoples embarassing and happy moments. If you want a more specific date go run a search on her database :p

Mine got corrupted by nicotine and alcohol a long time ago.

So here goes, I had just taken a shower and discovered that I had no shorts and no boxers to wear! My little indon maid of the house @ my younger brother must have left the clothes at the back to dry. So I head off to the back yard, dressed in my towel alone.

So I open the back door and head to the backyard. As I step out, a very very very strong gust of wind blows the door shut. I am highly suspicious murphy had something to do with this. The door by another murphy miracle locked itself shut. Please insert much cursing here.

I was late for a lunch appointment and in a huge rush. Fortunately for me, there was a stick I could use to reach the keys which were on the kitchen table. So I stretch for the keys, using the stick to hook the keys. Trust me it isn't as easy as it may seem. It took me a good 15 minutes to do this. When I finally managed to hook the keys, I flicked the stick to 'throw' the keys towards me. Again, I suspect Murphy lent me some unwanted and uninvited strength. The flick was too powerful, and the keys flew. I watch its majectic flight in super slow motion, as it flew to the OTHER door of my yard. Yup, the OTHER LOCKED one.

Please insert more cursing here.

It wasn't so bad this time though. The keys were within reach, all I had to do was put my hand through the fence and pick them up. Sounds simple aye?

Shame on you. NOTHING in this freakin world is as simple as it seems.

Just as I was reaching for the keys, a golden retriever pops along and decides to be friendly with my hand. Not that I minded very much, but I really wanted the keys. The mutt decided to nuzzle my hand and basically get in between my hand and the keys. Annoyed, I try to scare the dog away from my hand.

At this point, her intelligence kicks in.

'Oh! Human wants key! Me help.'

She (I did not have time to ascertain the dog's gender, but only females can be this nosey and completely misunderstand a mans intentions) decides that the keys are an object of curiousity more worthy than my hand. She nuzzles the keys at first, which isnt' such a bad thing. Then she goes into pre-pounce stance.

At this point, I realised I was in deep shit.

The mutt jumped my keys and started pulling it away from me ever slowly. I shout at the mutt, going 'NO! BAD ! NO!.'

To my HUGE suprise. It works. She backs off the keys. Now to get to the keys, I REALLY need to stretch. So I stretch my bestest. Then.... the next disaster occurs. I feel a tug on my towel.

Apparently, she decided that I was an ungrateful person. After all, all she did was try to HELP. I, being aforementioned ungrateful and mean human, screamed my lungs out and ranted at her. Such bad behavior should be PUNISHED. And she decided that in this case, HUMILIATION would be more appropriate than pain. Instead of biting me, she decided to strip me instead.

So here I am, on hand reaching for the keys desparately, the other holding on to my towel for dear life. After 5 to 10 minutes of this tussle or so, the neighbour appears.

'Oh! Look! Angel's 'playing' with the neighbour'.

PLAYING??? PLAYING?????



I was too speechless to say anything. Such BLATANT stupidity would only cause me to waste my breath should I explain the real situation. So I ignore the moron and continue reaching for my keys. And she continues watching her dog molest my towel.

I took me another good 10 minutes to get my keys, but not before the mutt manages to make me half moon my neighbour. I swear, the damn mutt looked freaking smug!

The best part is, there were no clothes out to dry in the back yard. They were all neatly folded and placed in the TV room. So all the trauma I underwent was completely unnecesary!

So this is the story. To those of you who asked me if I flashed anyone in a towel, if I did a strip tease or if I stole a towel... well I'll bear that in mind for my next adventure with my keys and towel.

Yea... over YOUR dead body.

Sorry guys

am a little too sad to post anything funny today :0

I'll not post anything that borders on emo or too mushy

I do however promise ya'll and update with the following :

1) golden showers to sumatera
2) what happened with the whole shower fiasco Audrey was describing

oh and two more short notes :

1) thank you for your emails. I love reading them. However, I do not post cute stuff on this blog apart from articles on my pup. This blog is like my bitching and whining centre. I have my very own special 'cute and lovable' centre. (the toilet is that way for those of you who feel the urge to regurgiate*wink*) Don't don't bother posting asking me to do that. My children stories are not posted here because there are many an ass who would rip off my hard work. Which worse still is not just mine, but part of the effort and trust children have put in me. I'll not take that risk. I'm sorry.

2) There is a reason I did not allow comments on the previous post, and did not mention names. Please respect this decision I made. At first I wasn't even going to post the poem I wrote. If you like it, thank you. If you did not; thats okay. God bless you and may your bits sag to the floor and save you expenses on buying mops and brooms . :)


be safe

Vince

Rest easy my friend

I wish I was closer and that was something I could do. I'm sorry we didn't get to say goodbye bud. My thoughts are with you and your family.

Be safe.

Something Sad

Something sad, happened today
My dad fell sick and went away
I wished that daddy would stay
But mommy said things will be okay.

Daddy was uncomfy and not very well,
So God cast a good magic spell.
He took daddy’s soul from its shell,
to a pretty place with no bad smells.

Mommy said its okay to cry,
But I don’t understand or know why.
Is daddy up there, somewhere in the sky?
I wished he’d come down... and tell me ‘Hi!’

I bet that it’s really nice, way up there,
with God’s tender love and gentle care.
I can imagine the angels flying everywhere.
But I just can’t see, even if I stare and stare.

I wonder if daddy will remember me
Or the time he helped me climb down the tree.
Maybe daddy’s happy as it should be
But I really wish,

I wish daddy was here with me.

Learning the HARD way

Just occured to me that my pup really does enjoy learning things the hard way. But then again, don't we all? ;)


Baby Speaks :



1) Your Master

• Jumping your master at 6am in the morning, while very affectionate, results in a very swift butt kicking regardless of the fact your masters 'dame' finds it hugely amusing.
• If you don't want a grumpy master, howling your teats off all night generally does not help this. Your master tend to get uglier and crankier with less sleep.
• When your master says 'Shut up, I'm trying to sleep.' He doesn't mean 'What? I can't hear you.'
• Looking guilty after pooping into your masters favorite slippers doesn't mean you'll get away with it.
• Licking your masters hands to lull him into a false sense of security before jumping and biting his nose works. Too well. Your master doesn't require the extra practice of swinging the rolled newspaper into your butt. Your butt most definately does not need the rolled newspaper.
  Somethings are not meant to be shared. Your master's boxers, briefs and shorts are one of those things.
• While struggling during baths may seem amazingly fun, your master is not normally amused when he turns up wetter than you are.
• When your master throws a treat/toy into your cage, he is DEFINATELY going to lock you in.

2) Heights, furniture and other pesky things

• What goes up must come down. Getting to high places is awful fun. Getting stuck there is just plain awful.
• Jumping onto the top of the couch when no one is around is cool. Not knowing how to get down when no one is around is NOT.
• Just because it LOOKS like you can walk through it, doesn't mean you CAN walk through it. Glass is tricky like that.
• Beetles do not smell good as they do not like being sniffed. Ten minutes of rubbing your nose and sneezing will teach you that.
• Just because something smells good, does not mean it tastes good. Stay away from perfume bottles.
• I know it is natural to chase or bark at cats. It is common sense however to wait until they aren't twice your size and you don't have to hide behind your master to bark at them.
• Surprising anything that is bigger than you and could squish you like a fly is a bad idea.
• Running up and down the stairs is fun. Falling down them not so.
• Having your temperature taken is not only unnatural... it is downright traumatizing. Avoid this at all cost.

3) Your master's lady

• Eating a flower is a bad idea. Eating a rose your master walked 30 minutes in the rain to get is a WORSE idea.
• Trying to eat the whole flower, bud, stem and leaves and all; is quite impossible to do. Your master isn't quite as slow or dumb as he looks. Honestly.
• Love letters and portraits are not for mauling. Your master has a habit of returning the favor to your buttocks when you do that.
  Jumping and licking your master's lady friend so that she tastes and smells like you doesn't please your master. He loves you but thats pushing the limit.
• When your master says he wishes he could mute you so that he can get some QT with his lady friend, then realising this statement shocks his friend, he claims to be joking; trust me, he isn't.
• Any discomfort cause to your master's lady tends to result in ten times that discomfort inflicted on your bottom.

4) Your masters dame

• Disturbing a big lady when she is enjoying her meal is not a good idea. Biting her toes will result in her mistaking you for part of the meal and biting you as well. Humans are vengeful like that.
• Scratching fanatically when your master is trying to convince his dame that you have no fleas is shooting yourself in the leg. Or in this case, jabbing yourself in the butt.
• Being fastidiously clean is good. However, avoid licking your 'bits' when your master is convincing his dame that she should let you 'kiss' her.
• The view you get from leaning on the slide away door, after you've climbed the couch is nice. It isn't nice, however, when the masters dame screams 'WTF ARE YOU DOING THERE?'. This not only scaring the crap out of you, but also making you lose your precarious balance and land on the very hard, cold marble floor.

5) Guests

• Just because people are allergic to you, doesn't mean you have to like them even more.
• Being sexist and overfriendly with only females of your masters species is bad for your tush health.
• Sticking your cold nose where its not wanted is a bad idea. Your master would get slapped for training you to do indecent things by his lady friends. Amusing as this is, don't doubt for a second he will reimburse you each ounce of discomfort.

Any one have anything to add to this list? ;)

Also the pup pic isn't a pic of my pup... its someone else's extremly cute pup named Sony. Get me a digi cam and I'll post pics ahhaah...

Her Royal Canineness

'Hail and greetings majesty.' *bows deeply*
Who am I talking to?
Well obviously not you.
I'm talking to the Queen of the House. Princess actually, she's a little young to be Queen.

Its been a month plus since our lil puppy has moved in with us. Finally we have established who is who in our little pack. More importantly, who is 'the boss'.

The puppy! :( :( :( (yes... its VERY WTF??)

A friend describes our little pack as 'the three humans wrapped around Baby's little tail.' So very very apt!

Don't get me wrong. Baby still does listen to me when i tell her to do things... Well.. occasionally... Alright... once in a blue moon! (when I am holding food mostly) But she has a way about her that makes you end up doing what she wants. Either its the puppy eyed look when you're about to dump her into the cage, the innocently wagging tail when your rolled up newpaper is about to get acquainted with her bottom or just the accusing whines when u leave her alone too long.

A good example would be when I am at the computer and writing stuff. She has the habit of running and nibbling my toes. Should that fail, she will sit down and stare at me. Should that fail too, she'll bark at me. Eventually I give in and reach for her. Even as I reach for her, she lifts her fore legs, preparing her royal puppyself to be carried into my lap. Upon gracing my lap, she is very fastideous about arranging her surroundings (i.e my poor thighs) into a comfortable bedding. My reward for being a loyal subject is then pin and needles from the lil mutt. But she looks so peaceful when she's asleep I don't wanna move and wake her.

Like most females, She really is a manipulative little bitch puppy.

Last night we removed the carpet from the living room. The doc said it was unhealthy for her as she enjoys sitting her blue blooded butt on the carpet and munching on her food there. All sorts of dirt and germs could hop into her food according to the vet.

Removal was not enough for the pup tho. She took it one step further. Some how as we were getting rid of the carpet, she was most upset that her royal chambers were being moved without her consent. She started whining and barking at me. Thus, I was ordered by the bigger bitch *cough* my mom, to make a carpet that fit nicely into her little den (okay its a damn cage... but the word cage sounds so prison like :( ).

I could almost hear the pup thinking this :

'Stupid humans giving me hand me downs again.'

Worse still, they don't show ANY respect. The damn carpet is not even RED. I bet Princess Horse Camelia, doesn't have to put up with this. I guess it will do. Alas, the burdens I have to bear.'

*waves front paw like the Queen Mother*

She was obviously thrilled with her new carpeting. She ran into the cage, sat her butt down. Ran back to the living room and sat down. It was as if she were comparing the feel of the carpet in her cage and in the living room, to confirm they were equally easy on her tush.

That being said and done, I love the lil monster to bits. As do the rest of my family. Its been a while since there was so much laughter in this house. :)

With Friends Like This...

Who the hell needs enemies???
A friend sent this to me... I wonder if he's trying to be nice or scare the hell outta me... heehe...



When you are sad, ... I will get you drunk and help you plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.
When you are blue, ... I'll try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
When you smile, ... I'll know you finally got laid.
When you are scared, ... I will rag you about it every chance I get.
When you are worried, ... I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining.
When you are confused, ... I will use little words to explain it to your dumb ass.
When you are sick, ... stay away from me until you're well again. I don't want whatever you have.
When you fall, ... I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.
This is my oath, ... I pledge 'til the end.
Why you may ask?
Because you're my friend

Hairy Armpits

This is a conversation I had about some one breaking up with me with a friend. I decided to have a little fun. :D Tis a true story which the only thing that got altered was the dudes name. I'm not a COMPLETE bastard.

Hotty : What happened there?
VNc3! : she complained I have hairy armpits and left ;)
(I was kidding hence the wink)

Hotty : are you serious?
VNc3!: VERY
(sarcasm anyone?)

Hotty : omg! thats sad~
(at this point i realised he took me seriously and decided to play along)

VNc3! : yea I know :( I shave every day now :((
Hotty : serious?
VNc3! : yea... couldn't take it if some one else told me the same thing :((
Hotty : wow! well i know someone who is so mauch hairyer than you!
Hotty : trust me i thought his harry legs were pants once!
VNc3: really? he must feel real insecure about that :(
Hotty : nah not anymore!
VNc3!: oh? how come?
Hotty : he jsut isnt anymore!
VNc3!: thats good for him
Hotty : yeah!
VNc3!: does he shave too?
Hotty : nope if he shaved it it would come back harrier!
VNc3! : but.. I mean... how did he deal with it?
Hotty : he just doesnt care! he isnt self concious!
VNc3! : really... man I wish I were like him :((..
VNc3! : ya know... this one time... my aunt edna... when I was seven... she let out this awful loud fart... and blamed it on me... I've been traumatized about farts ever since then man... :((
Hotty : serious? thats kinda sad!!!!
Hotty : i mean about her fart!
VNc3! : I guess...
VNc3! : oh I thought abt me feeling bad about it :(
Hotty : lol! nah man im not mean like that!
VNc3! : heh.. yea I know...
VNc3! : poor aunt edna... I feel sorry for her too :(
Hotty : lol! anywasy man i so tired!!! im gonna head to bed!
VNc3! : take care buddy :)

Please be polite when you visit Malaysia

Today a foreigner visiting our lovely country asked me about the phrase 'Kan Ni Neh' and pondered as to its meaning. I was deeply disappointed with his ignorance of our culture. So being the good samaritan I am, I took the time to explain to him the rich tradition and ideology behind this expression.

The expression 'Kan Ni Neh' hails from the chinese part of our local culture. As you know, many of the chinese in our country have ancestors from China who migrated to Malaysia. This expression has been a part of our culture ever since then.

The origins of the expression are from the reign of Emperor Kan Ni Neh of the Qing Dynasty. It was one of the first few contacts with the 'gwai lows' or literally translated 'white devils'. Curious, the Emperor allowed a royal audience with the sailors. The Captain greeted the emperor with great respect, saying, 'We come in search of friendship.' The young emperor misunderstood and thought the Captain was introducing himself; thus said; pointing at himself 'Kan Ni Neh'.

Later on this misunderstanding was cleared up as the two parties grew more adept with each others language. However, in a touch of vanity, the young Emperor decided that henceforth, his name would be used to greet foreigners and good friends. The louder you shouted the Emperor's name, the more enthusiathic the welcome you give to your guest.

I hope with this information, visitors to our country will respect our culture more. Understanding after all builds bridges and bridges great friendship.

When you touch down in KLIA, scream at the top of your lungs, 'Kan Ni Neh', and point to as many people as you can.

I swear to you, you'll definately get a hot reception :)

My blogs not fugly anymore

Its been upgraded by yours truely to merely ugly. Anyone with 'like owner like blog' jokes will be fed to my brother. Trust me, he ain't fussy about his food. Oh wait, that was 10 years ago.

Then again, old habits die hard. Maybe he'll just chew you and spit you out this time. Runs in the family this habit does.

It took bloody ages to do it. I know its nothing amazing compared to the 'pro' html bloggers (or at least those who managed to bully/coerce/bribe/beg some one who is html savvy to help) but I'm pretty ok with how it looks right now

Ah well, had things on my mind anyway and it was a pleasant distraction. What do ya'll think?

Some how I have the feeling I'm gonna regret asking that question.

Perhaps I should ask IF ya'll think instead.

Lack of sleeps making me cranky... of to bed I go. Oh and a special thanks to L1 since I mostly based my html crap on the source of her webbie. Mucho kisses.

Later peeps.

Adam and Steve

Here is a discussion on the topic I had with L1 hehe...

eolanda says: adam and eve
Vince - says: adam n eve?
Vince - says: the modern version
Vince - says: is adam and steve
Vince - says: adam got so mad that steve tricked him into eating the apple
Vince - says: he cut steve's balls off
eolanda says: lol
Vince - says: and there you have it
Vince - says: eve
eolanda says: HAHAHAHAHAHA

There you have it ladies and gents... or should I say ex - gents and gents?
The bible did mention that a bone was removed... I'm saying a boneR was removed :D

yea yea... bite me...

Hot (pronounced hawwT~) Chicks and Dip Sticks

I had an interesting conversation with a friend about the tendency for hotties to be out with not so hotties. Ever noticed that really good looking people have a thing for mirror crackers? Its a pretty strange phenomenon if you ask me.

Obviously I'm more interested in the cun chick + ugly dude combination. Who cares if ugly chicks get all the good looking guys. All the better, as the saying goes 'Less man, more share'.

Any way, from a pseudo scientific point of view, mostly people would be hunting down, as our instincts dictate, someone genetically superior or equal to us. Like it or not thats how we were programmed: 'seek the best partner, mate and produce little versions of ourselves'

Yet, looking around, we see more and more 'mis-matches'. What on earth is going on? This is definitely against the law of nature! And if it isnt'... it damn well should be!

Her theory was that women see past the skin deepness of men. So they see the 'inner beauty' in their partner. I'm inclined to half agree. I'm sure there are couples who actually are more bothered about how their other halve looks like in the inside than on the outside. Perhaps to go as far as say that there are the rare few that managed to go past the superficial and move towards ... well the sligltly less superficial!

These kinda relationships do develop from long term friendship. Either they've known each other so long that there is utter comfort and security in each others company, thus the long road to love is paved; or their 'love' is a revelation to them. Normally after a bad break up or some thing equally traumatic, the guy just happens to be around to console the hottie... and boinggggg~ can you spell 'R E B O U N D' *cough* I mean revealation?

However, that doesn't really cover why it happens so often!

My theory is that really hot chicks are insecure creatures. Basically they date the ugliest thing they can find so that they know for sure their man won't go roaming other hen houses. So to speak. There is, for these women, a comfort and security in knowing that your man is so ugly, even if he were one of the few remaining bachelors in the world, other women would think twice before 'being with them'. They themselves being highly attractive, probably worry about one of two things.

1) What happens when they lose their looks? Will people still 'love' them if their bits sagged enough to mop the floor when they walked?
2) Obviously they've had their share of people hitting on them. So they'd know how fickle the human heart can be. What could be safer than picking some ugly dude as their boy :D? Even if he were fickle, there'd be less chances for him to cheat on them.

My friends counter point to this theory was, 'Hey! I've seen lots of ugly guys with multiple hot chicks as gf's!' This one had me stumped for a while but I think i've finally figured it out!

The guy must be a combination of this:

1) God ugly - major security points here!
2) Charismatic - definately a sweet talker
3) Sneaky as hell - bloody good at cover lining and planning his time for the different girls.

So basically we have a case of an ugly charmer who organises his time well enough to fit several hot chicks into his life. The chicks all reckon he's too ugly to get another chick, and he uses this to his full advantage! So several hotties go out with him, totally ignorant of the possiblity that he might even have the remotest chance of two timing them. There you go! Hook, line and sinker.

Sigh... this post seems a little forced for some strange reason. I can't quite find the cynicism or sarcasm I always thought I oozed through every orrifice. Maybe its because I'm tired. Maybe my perspectives are being changed for me without my permission.

*glares*

Either way, I'm feeling especially drained today. So thats all for now folks. Sorry for the crappy post. I seem to have other bigger things on my mind. Yes. The tiny bit alcohol didn't burn away.

Be safe people

I just lay there

A young female came to the ER with lower abdominal pain. During the exam and questioning the female denied being sexually active. The doctor gave her a pregnancy test anyway and it came back positive. The doctor went back to the young female's room.

Doctor: "The results of your pregnancy test came back positive. Are you sure you're not sexually active?" Patient: "Sexually active? No, sir, I just lay there."

Doctor: "I see. Well, do you know who the father is?"

Patient: "No. Who?"

Qanta Airlines

After every flight, Qantas pilots fill out a form, called a "gripe sheet," which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems; document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight. Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor.Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by Qantas' pilots (marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers. By the way, Qantas is the only major airline that has never had an accident. ... Enjoy!

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.

S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.

S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P: Something loose in cockpit.

S: Something tightened in cockpit.

P: Dead bugs on windshield.

S: Live bugs on back-order.

P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent.

S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.

S: Evidence removed.

P: DME volume unbelievably loud.

S: DME volume set to more believable level.

P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.

S: That's what they're for.

P: IFF inoperative.

S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

P: Suspected crack in windshield.

S: Suspect you're right.

P: Number 3 engine missing.

S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.

P: Aircraft handles funny.

S: Aircraft warned to straighten up, fly right, and be serious.

P: Target radar hums.

S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P: Mouse in cockpit.

S: Cat installed.

And the best one for last...

P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.

S: Took hammer away from midget

Yup I realise that I'm just dumping forwards that I've read on my blogs today, but between arranging meetings, interview times and writing my stories I've had precious little time to do any writing of my own, so I've mostly been reading to unwind instead.

I do have a new poem I'm working on; which I may or may not post later on. :D Have a murphy day.

Grand Pa's Garden

Heres a pretty nice one Debbie sent to me a while back :D


Grandfathers and three-year-old boys are natural buddies. On this particular day in May, the grandfather was pleased to have the company of his best little pal when planting the vegetable garden. For awhile, the boy seemed to like it too. His small fingers were just the right size to pick up the tiny seeds and drop them into Granddad-made holes. They were a great team. But before long the boy became restless and directed his irritation at the seeds themselves.

"What's this one, Granddad?"

"Beets."

"Ugh, I hate beets."

"Well, then, let's do the zucchini instead."

"Yuck, I really hate zucchini."

"Okay, buddy. What would you like to plant?"

"How about..... doughnuts?"

Just in time, the grandfather stopped himself from saying there was no such things as doughnut seed. Looking at the unhappy face, he suddenly got an inspiration.

"Wait a second, I have to go inside and get the right seeds."

Granddad returned with a handful of Cheerios. He and the small boy solemnly planted then in a special corner of the garden. Weeks later, when the real seeds began to break through the soil, the boy became entranced with the tiny seedlings. He spent many afternoons helping Granddad water and hoe and watch them grow. And when the first baby vegetables were harvested, he liked them after all.

For weeks, he had forgotten all about the doughnuts. But then one day at lunch, he said,
"Granddad, what happened to our dough nuts? How come they didn't grow?"

Granddad paused for a moment. "Well, you know, doughnuts are tricky. Some years when you plant them, you get lots of doughnuts." He sighed. "But other years. all that comes up are the holes."

To whom it may concern

This is something I wrote a while back... early last year actually.

The more people you know in this life, the more you will see leave life. It is a realization that dawned upon me over the weekend. As we lay to rest a person I've known since I was eight years old, I found myself wondering about the circle. This was the second parent of a friend to leave the world.

What last thoughts ran through her mind as the light from her eyes faded.Were they of regret? Leaving behind something you hold dear to the heart is never something easy to do. I cannot imagine the immensity of leaving an entire world. The thought of relinquishing everything sends jolts of shivers into my spine. More so, the lost of the endless possibilities that life allows us.What about the things in life that we will never taste, feel or say? What of the experiences we will never enjoy? The obligations we have to others and more importantly to those we love. The line ‘I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep’ comes immediately to mind.

She must have been very sad,knowing that her cycle was at an end.But, what would you give up to remain here? What kind of discomforts will you endure to see the love in the eyes of those that are precious to you? For how long?Do we choose when we depart, or does fate overwhelm us and snatch even that basic choice from us?And yet, perhaps her thoughts were one of relief.

‘The world is a cruel, cruel place,’ as someone dear to my heart once said, and still often says. To live is to feel and to feel is to endure discomfort and pain from time to time. Perhaps she felt a freedom that we can never experience in this world. That all the burdens were lifted from her shoulders as she closed her eyes for that very last time.

Perhaps when we are born, we do no cry out to hail our births. Perhaps we cry out to mark the beginning of a cycle that will see others cry out as the cycle ends.How many cycles will we see end before our own expires, I wonder. It is not a pleasant thought.

Regardless, I just thought I'd take this one moment,and tell you all that I'm grateful you've been, and I hope will be, a part of my life and share my grief and thoughts with you. Most importantly, that I love you guys. We've got a long way ahead of us people. But heck… you guys make life worth looking forward to.

One love,

Vince

There's gotta be more than this...

Explain to me again why we wake up in the mornings? For most of us its to get our asses to work and for the younger ones to college. At the end of the day, paper qualifications, working 9 - 5, overtiming so often that your punch card looks as if you never punched out; is all in pursuit of the worship of the new God of our Era :

M

O

N

E

Y

Come the weekends, we are rewarded for our dedicated worship or punished for lack of devotion to this new centuary's deity. Either we spend money like mad, or we spend the week lamenting the lack of monetary funds to do any spending.

'We do what we have to... to survive,' is what I've been told. Short of living on a deserted island and surviving on coconuts, one needs to participate in the rat race in order to find money to survive in society. So in short you have to do something you might not particularly like in order to make ends meet.
To quote from the song, Bitter Sweet Symphony, 'Its a bitter sweet symphony thats life, try to make ends meet then you die...'

Where do you draw the line? Where exactly do you say enough is enough. You spend your entire lives saving for your old age. You work yourself to the bone in hopes of a better car, house or social status. You forsake ideals, principles and morales in exchange for money.

Please don't say you do not. You've had to deal with clients you disagreed with? Thought they had a desparate need for the 'removal of stick up their arse' operation? Thought a visit to the Body Shop for a set of brains for them was desparately called for. Yet, you meet their requests and demands. Or politely declined. That is a compromise of your own beliefs in itself to say the least.

A pornstar sells her body for money.
A writer whores his ideas and writing for money.
Where is the difference? No where.

'Sex is infinately more personal than writing lah!' I hear some people saying. People who obviously do NOT write. Or have written nothing worth a grain of salt. Anyone who's written something close to heart would know exactly how personal writing can be. Not necessarilly good obviously, but as personal if not more personal than sex.

A quote from some one I won't name, 'I'm crying as I write now, here is the truth so blatant in writing that I can't help the tears as they stream down my cheeks.'

Please remind me again, o wise one, how playing 'hide the salami' is definately more personal than writing something from the heart.

I've had offers to publish my writing. Even offers to 'ghost write' for some one. This is where you do all the hard work... get the money, and some dork gets the credit and name for your writing. As of now, I've always turned down offers.

I'm not saying that ALL my writing is super personal. My poems obviously are. They're my little thought bubbles or emotion bubbles if you like. Be it happy or sad. Angry or wistful.

The stories I've written for children definately are. In fact they are infinately more personal to me. The simple fact that they are not completely mine is the reason for this. They're not things that just pop into my head. I built those stories with little angels. The stories come frlom the conversations and little secrets children have shared with me. To me there were pieces of their love, imagination and innocence in those stories. Which is what made them decent. It doesn't take talent to write something based on a world a child creates for you. It just takes a typist.

Here I am, contemplating selling these stories for the first time. Where do I draw the line this time? If at least I can be sure that the stories turn out the way the kids liked them... and how we built the stories together, some how it wouldn't be so bad. And yet I can't. It will probably be hacked and ripped into pieces for commercialisation. Whoring yourself is bad enough. Selling pieces of a child dream... thats unspeakable isn't it?

Do I need the money?

Yup. Thats the end of that decision process I guess.
God I feel cheap.
Or should I say : Money I feel cheap.

Short but Sweet

no euphamisms here
check out the best beer ad in the world!!
http://www.bigad.com.au/

Children...

A step away from ranting and sarcastic humor if you would bear with me for a while

A child is for life not just for Christmas.

Its hard to me to comprehend how parents can abuse or mistreat and even abandon their children. Sure parent's aren't born perfect. Even with all the striving, perfection is never attained. But what drives a mother, who spent 9 months with unspeakable (often insatiable) food urges, perpetual back pains and god know how many hours of God agonizing hours in labor, to do that to their child. I honestly do not understand. And I'm not quite sure I want to.

This however, reminds me of two random thoughts at this point.

The first is that women would probably tell me of course I wouldn't understand. I don't bleed monthly nor do I have to undergo (thank God) the agony of childbirth. All the more, however, that the act of abandonment or abuse makes no sense to me. Well, daddy did say not to trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn't die.

The other is a joke a friend told me.

Question
Why do women give birth?

Answer
Because its painful and they deserve it.

A sexist joke that brings grins to men and chagrin to women. Frankly speaking, I'm inclined to agree with this joke. At the risk of sounding self righteous, damn straight these mothers (abusive / child dumpers) deserve any pain that comes their way.

I write stories for children, (believe it or not!) simply because I find children quite simply beautiful. Children often times seem so much wiser than us 'grown ups'. They see things in a way that is pretty much pure and untainted. They have the innate ability to see through all the crap and pretentiousness we put on due to society and conventions.

A clear example would be when one of the kids told me that my haircut (not one of my better ones I assure you) looked like a mushroom gone wrong. Something everyone was thinking but too polite to say. Of course at this point I wished I could throttle the little tyke, but at least she spoke her mind.

How could anyone want to hurt the innocence and trust that children place in you? At times it used to frighten me the amount of trust my friend's niece had in me. Uncle Bince is nice. I know it used to make me shiver, not because I was worried I would hurt or upset the lil angel, but that I might do so by mistake or accidentally.

When I was ill and in the hospital, I saw a really really beautiful child. Spare me the pedo jokes. She was in the ward because she had been abused by a relative. Which relative I do not have the faintest idea. But you could see the bruises, on her as well as within her. She would flinch when ever the nurse raised a hand to stroke her hair or to touch her. Then the innocence in her eyes would cloud over for the briefest of a second with fear. It was a heart breaking thing to see.

I'm seriously at a lost as to how to figure people like this. Blame it on the parent being abused as a child. Blame it on lack of financial means to support the child; thus the abandonment. Blame it on anything I guess. Yet, the excuses in my honest opinion simply just do not add up and are in my point of view, completely unforgivable.

This poem's for the little girl I saw in the ward, whose name I do not know.

My Lost Child

what beauty lies
in your eyes?
an innocence angels would envy
a tenderness devils would shy from
a glimmer of hope
from a fading candle.

All to rare
she smiles a solitude
beneath soft eye lashes
baby brown eyes
that have never known love
but are ever searching

I hope life treats her more kindly in the future. This next poem is one I wrote a long time ago for my friends two little nieces. Little angels. I do miss them dearly. Aiqha and Amyra =)

Little Amyra doesn't remember my voice any more. It’s been a while I guess. But here's the poem:

My Little Princess

My knee tall,
Perhaps knee short; little princess.
With your smile
that loves everyone best.

Little dimples that melt
into your tiny smile.
Little toes, little fingers
that move and wriggle all the while.

I love you and your gifts;
real or just ones in your mind.
I love you when you take them back
Saying 'Mine! Mine! Mine!'.

I love how little new things
make you ogle and stare.
How you 'tip-toe-ballerina' around
without a care.

I love how you plead
helplessness to your mother.
Failing that,
sink your teeth into your brother!

I love how you say my name,
'Uncle Bince! Uncle Bince!'
Sometimes it sounds better
than plain old Vince.

I love you when you frown,
deadly serious.
Then, break into laughter,
at some secret 'hilarious'.

They say all little angels
have fluffy little wings.
I carry mine, and we go
where ever she points and sings.


While I doubt I will ever have children of my own, the thought that children will read my stories does please me.

Everyone needs that little something to smile about.

More About Ugly People!

By popular demand... heres another one about the visually challenging :D

This bus full of UGLY people crashed and burned. All 40 of the people in the bus die. The Arch Angel Raphael out of compassion, and probably feeling bad that all these dudes were so ugly no one ever really cared or loved them (apart from their parents... and even they suggested plastic surgery), offered each and every one of the 40 a wish each.

Look at it from an ugly person's point of view. You spend your entire life avoiding mirrors. Avoiding daylight where people can actually see how bad you look. Obviously your wish would be to look good no?

Shut up. I didn't say you could disagree. Besides this is MY story :D

So the first guy goes... 'I want to be good looking'... *poof* He's good looking. Wish granted. The other guys and gals are thinking 'Yea.. I wanna be hot looking too! (hawwttt as in phat instead of FAT) So they go : 'Make me beautiful', 'Make me gorgeous'. *poof* *poof*.

Ten people make the wish and ten visually pleasing people appear. (God knows if this were true we could use more archangels).

At this point of time, the guy last in the queue starts to laugh slightly.

Another ten people get their wishes, and the last dude starts laughing louder and louder.

Another five wish for good looks and the guy at the end of the queue is practically laughing hysterically.
Soon, its the last five people in the queue waiting for their turn. The last dude is laughing so hard now, he is rolling on the floor and in tears. Raphael is extremely curious as to what the man finds to tintilating.
So the four before him go 'Make me good looking', 'Make me pretty' and so forth.

Finally its the cacking maniac's turn.

Raphael looks at the man who is now wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
'Well, whats your wish?'
Choking back laughter... the man says...

'Make them all UGLY again!!!'

A Warped Teenage Mind

Okay. For kicks this is something I wrote a long long time ago. Even back then I was an expert ranter it seems. And quite incoherrent.

Love? Bollocks!

Some times I wonder if love actually is just a fiction. You know the kind of stuff writers like me make up so we can flog off some cheap romance novels and books to the lonely and the desperate and get a beer or two. I mean, who actually buys the concept of love? True love, you know ‘Truly madly deeply’ and all.

The answer that comes to mind almost immediately: the spotty teenager with more pimples on his nose than he will ever have girlfriends in his life time or even a few of his life times. The fat old lady from next door; who reads her novels and weeps buckets. Whether at the story or at the fact that nothing like this ever happens or ever will happen to her, I’m not really so sure.

Or maybe, the middle aged guy, from down the street. You know, desperate to meet ‘the one’ he’s ‘fated’ to be with. Probably because he’s afraid of growing old alone and having no one to share his misery with, plus his mom and dad are probably wondering if he is a faggot or some shit like that.

I want to grow old with you… I mean even the very notion is offensive to my teenage mind. I don’t want to grow old, let alone see my partner lose her looks, get fat, disillusioned and uglier. Or well, just ugly, hopefully. I mean it would be painful enough growing old alone, let alone having being reminded every morning when you look at the person next to you and think…. God damn… is this happening to me too… White hair, wrinkles…hair in weird places; fat? I mean who in their right mind would want a mirror to reflect the constant downward slope growing old engrains upon us?

Oh… and we writers call these people, these little mirrors, lovers. =)

Definitely the romantics if you ask me. You know. The crème de la crème. I mean its so funny when you hear lines that they spew out, like: ‘If you don’t love me… I’ll jus die’. And many do! Jumping off buildings seems to still be very much in fashion. A little messy and inconsiderate to the pedestrians but a hell a lot less painful than sleeping pills I hear.

Then in come the movie makers to cash in on the story. To make a freakin block buster about some poor guy who blew his brains out because his girlfriend was getting nookie from his neighbourhood milk boy.

Love? Can eat?

C'est La Vie

First off, let me apologise to those of you who have been waiting for updates and to those of you who posted comments only to find that everything was removed. I assure you this is not because I disliked or disagreed with your comments. Basically it was a combination of two events. One which is entirely personal and I do not wish to elaborate on. The other is an act of incredible stupidity.

Maybe I should add a disclaimer. The posts here are completely fictional and have nothing to do with ANYONE. Unless you definately know it is about you. (Cue : 1001 emails saying I know this one is DEFINATELY DEFINITELY about me you S.O.B *sigh* )

So if your name is Murphy and you got your arse struck by lightning, tough cookies. Cry me a river in Seremban. They need the water.

Choked on your doggy biscuit while reading a post? Then save your feminist bitchy comments to yourself. These are my thoughts and my words. I honestly don't care. Sorry. Sending me hatemail and threatening to cut my jewels off is kinky and all... but getting a bit old. By all means be up front about it and post in the comments section. I don't delete / edit stuff people write there. (Probably because I have no idea how to!)
So that being said; if you want to take offence to what I said or write, by all means go ahead. You wanna bitch and complain about it. Might I suggest a more condusive place for you. click here

I considered moving my blog somewhere more ... anonymous? But hell... wheres the fun in that =)
Life's been pretty much a roller coaster these days. I'm struggling to keep up my aura of sarcasm and nastiness! Thats how exhausting things have been. (Keep the smug comments like 'you have to try?' to yourselves you evil doers!)

First and foremost, my life has been taken over by an adorable little bitch puppy. Being super uber creative and oozing originality as you know, we came up with an excellent name for the little mutt pup. We named her... *drum roll please*


BABY!

Oh? Shock? Syok?

Definately horror tho! I blame my younger brother for the name (amongst a multitude of other things). Its just as well that we did not name her Lady. Cause she's definately no lady! God only knows how many of my female guests she has molested. I even got one asking me what I've been training the pup to do! As if! More like the pup has been training me la! Plus she sits with her hind legs spread far enough to... lets lose that train of thought. Apparently however, she becomes a lot more ladylike after her first period so I'm told. Odd how bitches have to bleed before becoming lady like. *zing*

Any ways she's been terrorising at my house for around abouts a month now. My mother from being terribly petrified of dogs, seems to have adopted baby as the daughter she never had (apart from Julian... :D ) She talks to the lil tyke as if she expects her to answer. I think my mom would keel over if the pup did answer one day. That would definately be a kodak moment.

House breaking has been fun. For the pup that is. She takes delight in what I like to term as 'poop and run'. She starts pooping, you start running to stop her. Obviously she's been practicing, as she works with ruthless efficiency. *plop* Good game.

With all honesty she has brighten up the house a lot. In piss yellow and chocolate poopy kinda color. Not to mention the flash of brown, white and black scurrying to the dinner table when food is set.

She's also made me reflect alot more. I seriously wonder who is being housebroken. Me or the damn pup. I'm extremely suspicious as to how often the house has to be vacuumed and mopped 'for the good of baby'. We're talking like 4 times a week! Hell.. I never did house work 4 times a year let alone 4 freakin times a week.
Apart from the bundle of furry joy, another animal has returned home. Yea, everyone's favourite Malay who thinks and wants to be Chinese. Azan, Dave. Every time he comes back, theres more of him to love. Ok. To put it simply. He's becoming a fat bastard. Hahah...

Meeting up with him made me realise something tho! That ass is wiser than he looks. Looking back, he said this 'Eventually we all walk our separate paths'. Being 19 and invincible, we figured that our close group of friends, or our 'pack' (our Hoopsquad) as he coined it, wouldn't really fall apart. Today, everyone's kinda doin their own thing. Once upon a time in China, we'd need 3 TABLES in a mamaks. Now we have 3 PEOPLE together at best.

It also made me realise something else. As time passes, there are friends that you keep no matter what kinda crap happens. Then there are those you lose. Either way it all balances up. I remember he said I had a sexual tension with one of our buddies. Would have been pretty funny apart from the fact that the guy is exactly that... A GUY...

Must be his Malay blood kicking in when he made that comment (sorry couldn't resist)

Anyways the mofo left for aussies yesterday, and it will day some readjusting to not having the bugger around. I almost called him up for a beer tonight forgeting he's not around! Anyways Fear9, its so true. We're all now either :

• fat senile
• (or getting there)
• getting uglier

I.E. Aging.

Speaking of aging... he passed me some letters that I thought were long gone. I mean SERIOUSLY long gone. I sure as hell brought mamaries memories back. Ally and Clooney? Lawyer and doctor? Hahaha... too bad you're gonna be the next Bill Gates and I'mma be the next Hemmingway (he managed to off himself properly unlike yours truely).

There has also been something else that has been going on in my life. Its a bit painful to talk about as of now. *Sigh* This one really struck me where it hurt. Its been so long since I let myself do this. So very very long. So I thought I'd take the risk. I mean I was pretty good at it once I guess. Some how I just ended up embarassing myself and finding myself paying for it.

Snooker really sucks man.

What did you think I was talking about. Bon. Bon. :-)


This one's for you sweets.

Pencil Case

I love you from the bottom of my pencil case..
I love the in the songs I write and sing
love you because you put me in my rightful place
and I love the cheques that you bring
cheap never cheap
I'll sing you songs till you're asleep
and when you've gone upstairs I'll creep and write it all down

oh Shelley, oh Deborah, oh Julie, oh Jane
I wrote so many songs abt you I forget your name
Jennifer, Alison, Philipa, Sue... Deborah, Annabelle too...
I forget your name

I love you from the bottom of my pencil case
I love the way you never ask me why
I love write around each wrinkle on your face
and I'll love you till my felt tip pen runs dry

deep so deep
the number one I hope to reap
depends on the tears you weep
so cry lover cry...
cry... cry...

oh cathy, philipa oh Sue
you made me so much money
I wrote this song for you
I wrote this song for you

Jennifer, Alison, Philipa, Sue... Deborah, Annabelle too...
oh Cathy, oh Alison, oh Sue
you made me so much money
I wrote this song for you
I wrote this song for you

Jennifer, Alison, Philipa, Sue..
Jennifer, Alison, Philipa, Sue..
for you... for you...
I wrote this song for you ;)

The Rules of Love

This one's not written by me... some dude wrote this on a power point presentation. Its pretty hilarious, so I thought I'd share with ya'll.

We always hear the rules from the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side.
These are OUR rules :
Please note ... these are ALL NUMBERED 1 ON PURPOSE!!

1. Breasts are for looking at and that is why we do it. Don't try to change that.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If its up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Saturday = sports. Its like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.

1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are NEVER going to think of it that way.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one :
Subtle hints do NOT work.
Strong hints do NOT work.
Obvious hints do NOT work.
JUST SAY IT !!!!

1. 'Yes' and 'No' are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. Thats what we do. Symphathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor.

1. Anything that we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an arguement. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 days.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted in two ways, and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one.

1.You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done.
Not BOTH
If you ALREADY KNOW the best way to do it, just do it YOURSELF.

1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during the commercials.

1. Christopher Columbus did not need directions and neither do we.

1. ALL men see only in 16 colors. like Windows default settings.
Peach for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit.
We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, we scratch. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say 'nothing' we will act like nothing is wrong. We know you're lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you do not want to hear.

1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine. Really.

1. Please don't ask us what we are thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss topics such as :

• sex
• sport or
• cars

1. You have enough clothes.

1. You have too many shoes.

1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape.

Thank you for reading this; yes I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight, but did you know men really don't mind that, its like camping.

Pass this to as many men as possible - give them a laugh.
Pass this to as many women as possible - give them an education.

The Line Between Love and Hate

Anyone else notice how the line between love and hate is invisible?

A glance or a past experience would surely tell you that this is true. Think back of that other half that you thought you would die without. TRIED to die without even.

One minute a heated arguement. The next, passionate and animalistic sex. Emphasis on animalistic. Humans love when loved. Hate when hurt. Sometimes even love being hurt or hurting. What complicated animals we are. For all the culture and social norms we conform to, deep down the primal instincts still kick in.

However, if you asked me, things were alot simpler when all you had to do was brain the woman you had the hots for with an ample sized club.

'WOMAN... ME... LIKE...'
*bash*
*drags to cave*

Unless of course you had a thing for an exceptionally thick skulled lady. In that case you might wanna bring a few spare clubs. We all know how thick headed women can be about some things at times. . . . . at most of the time . . . well... alright... all the time ;)

Today, instead of clubs, one's weapons are BIG cars, BIG bucks, BIG houses, BIG devotion and lotsa other BIG things. And women say size don't matter. *Rolls eyes* Right. Perhaps size doesn't matter, but LACK of SIZE definately does.

Sorry to all ya chinese dudes =(

I'd like to say I feel you... but that sounds odd. Moving swiftly along.

Love? Lets us take a peek at dictionary.com for a definition of such complicated little word. Why is there a Jennifer Love Hugetits' (Jennifer Love Hewitt) picture here (before she was anorexic that is)... Oh, my bad. Thats dicktionary.com. Silly me.

Here's an edited list from the thesaurus.

adulation, affection, allegiance, amity, amorousness, amour, appreciation, ardency, ardor, attachment, case, cherishing, crush, delight, devotedness, devotion, emotion, enchantment, enjoyment, fervor, fidelity, flame, fondness, friendship, hankering, idolatry, inclination, infatuation, involvement, like, lust, mad for, partiality, passion, piety, rapture, regard, relish, respect, sentiment, soft spot, taste, tenderness, the hots, weakness, wild for, worship, yearning, zeal

anyone else find it interesting that half the words can or definately connote sexual implications?
ardency, ardor, enjoyment, fervor, fidelity, hankering, lust, mad for,passion,the hots, wild for, yearning

then you have the more puppy eye'd kinda love -
adulation, affection, attachment, cherishing, crush, delight, devotedness, devotion, fondness, idolatry, infatuation, soft spot

the cynical outlook -
allegiance, involvement, weakness

In eskimo land theres 20+ words for snow. Seriously. Yet in the english language we have ONE word for love despite the fact that there are so many types of love.

A good example can be found in the reactions to the awesome epic Titanic. The scene where Leo De Cap goes:
'Never give up! Never let go!'

In general, lots of weepy eyed people in the cinema. Gosh, thats sooo touching kinda mushy love reaction. However, if you listen carefully, you'd have heard a few heads being slapped. Like minded people like me LOVED watching that pathethic excuse for an androgenous male die!

'HAHA... Leo turned into a popsicle'
'OMFG... she ripped his finger off!'

Are amongst comments I've heard from numerous horror stories regarding the movie. Poor traumatised girlfriends.

What of the world? How many cases of murders of 'loved' ones happen daily.

'Omg... he shagged my secratary, bye bye to his crown jewels.'
'He likes Peter Andre's ab's better than mine. Eat gun powder you ruff-putting imbecile.'
'I wanted to shoot her lover's penis and her head off with two shots. To my despair I managed that with only one bullet.'

Crimes of passion these little incidences are dubbed. Again it shows just how the invisible line between love and hate is. The guy you love to bits today, is the very same person you might blow to bits (no crude pun intended) the very next day.

We LOVE our family do we not? How come then, most of us find ourselves tearing bits of hair out in frustration when conversing with parents or siblings? How come my baby brother tried to blind me with a color pencil when he was 5? (ok fair enough... the hot milo I poured on him first was uncalled for but I seriously thought he would smell better *pout*)

Then there are the people that we LOVE to HATE. People we bitch about all day long but can't help but be curious about 'what new stupid thing they've done'. Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, Eminem Victoria Beckham and so forth.

Question :
'What do you call 1 million ManchesterUnited Fans neck deep in sand?'

Answer :

'Too little sand.'

Once in a very very blue moon. We're talking eclipse type of rarity blue moons by the way. You do have the good fortune to find someone that you LOVE. As in care for and actually feel an emotional connection to. Even RARER are the cases of reciprocation!

I could quote so many things :

'Hell hath no wrath like a woman spurned' - same thing applies to men btw.

'It is better to love and lost than to never love at all' - this dude was either stoned or never in love before.

'If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with!' - fancy way of saying if you can't shag the one you have the hots for, anyone with fair resemblance will probably do.

Unrequited 'love' has the tendancy to lead towards hurt, distaste and eventually hate.

'Is there something wrong with me? How come he/she does not feel the same way.'

'Maybe he's into men. '

'If I can't have you, nobody can.' (please insert maniacal stalker like laughter here)

Love? Bah?
Want to love? Ha haH!
Cynical? Yah Hah!
Fallen in love? Would love to say Nah!

Its not that I'm completely cynical about love. I do feel 'love' towards my family. I do feel 'love' towards my friends. I do feel 'love' towards (*insert name*). But I'm wary. I'll end this with the simple line from Seasons in the Sun.

'Learned of Love and A B C's... Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees'

Like a new pair of shoes.... bite love before it bites your toe off (although spurned lovers are more fond of biting / chopping other bits off instead)

I love you guys :p

My take on UGLY people.

The world is FULL of ugly people. Everywhere you turn, if you don't see someone ugly; you SMELL someone ugly! Sometimes one wonders if an UGLY curfew should be implemented. Anyone that does not meet the required standards in looks should not be allowed on the streets after a certain hour.

Heck, you spend a long day at work or college, you hit the road to go home and what is the VERY first thing that greets you when you leave your day time prison? An earth shattering (quite literally!), greasy, FAT (not big boned) UGLY thing.

For crying out loud. You spend the whole day toiling in the rat race, to see a human mutant gerbil. Front teeth that begs you to open a beer bottle with. Hair in places there shouldn't be. No hair in places there should be. Not to mention the all too pleasant odor of one who doesn't really give a flying shit how they smell or look.
Calling 'it' a person is insulting to human beings. Calling 'it' an animal may lead to prosecution by the RSPCA for heartless cruelty to the fairer species.Aye. I said the FAIRER species. How many UGLY animals can you recall straight off the ball? Not too many I dare presume. And I'm not talking about your silly phobias about snakes, moths or flying roaches. (I'm afraid of heights... and no... its not silly, I just don't like things that are taller than me :p)

Furthermore, even if you DID see an UGLY animal. You could put it out of its miserable existance. My politically correct way of saying you can SHOOT the bugger. Try the same crap with an UGLY 'it' and you get smacked with a life sentence or even death.

My question to you is WHY?

'An eye for an eye', is a common answer. What a misconception. Lets assume this. A kills an UGLY 'it'. So factually A has killed some UGLINESS in the world. According to the eye for an eye concept, some UGLINESS in A should be killed as well. Imagine if everyone went on a UGLY killing spree. We'd have a world of ULTRA beautiful people. Make the world a more beautiful place. Kill an 'it' today.

But I pose a MAJOR problem to you. How does one decide the benchmark for ugliness? What would the discriminatory basis for an 'it' be? Beauty and attractiveness is very obviously subjective and ever changing. While I do not advocate the Victorian obession with obesity, where by more is better; I definately do not adhere to the 'OMG I'm SEXAY because I'm so ultra skinny that if the pet dog breaks wind I take flight'. I like my meat well done. Other people like it bleeding and moving. Its all a matter of preference.

While I might want to disassemble the body parts of one of the world's eyesores, another person may worship the very ground that the aforementioned person walks on. Obviously in a case like this, I would be correct as I have excellent taste, but that is besides the point.

Another thought. In general, we do agree on who are EXTREMELY UGLY. Whoopie Goldberg? Macy Gray? The Williams disasters... I mean sisters. So if we do have a semblance of agreement on who definately can be classified as an 'it', what stops us from rounding these people up and feeding them to the pigeons?

Perhaps the fear that the pigeons might for the very first time in natural history balk, and find a voice to say 'F*ck you, we have taste too!' Yet again, obviously the cruelty to animals situation applies here. Seriosuly though. What stops us? I think its the innate fear that we ourselves would be rounded up for the mass feeding.
Even the 'beautiful ones' hate they way the look more than not. It is rare to meet a person who is completely satisfied with how they look. You get super models with oral diahorea; keeping both their weight and food down simultaneously is terribly unfashionable and damn near impossible it seems.

I see lots and lots of people thinking, 'Well mate, you ain't so hot yourself. THAT is my EXACT point. Find me ugly? Want to label me an 'it'? Alas, either you need glasses or some common sense. While I'm not a HOTTIE, I sure as hell ain't an 'IT'. The sight of me does not, sadly, trigger urges for sexual self satisfaction masturbation; or diddling/jerking off for those of you who are illiterate or plain crude) neither do I induce regurgitation or goose bumps. Me an 'IT'? HAH to you I say.

Perhaps murder might be a tad drastic. Just BARELY. For those who'se IQ's barely scrape double digits, obviously this is a rant. But by all means do feel free to kill an 'it' and blame your stupidity on a pseudo serious post in a blog named WARPED MIND. Stupid people. Now thats an entire topic on its own.

I'm not a pessimist...

Just a Murphy type optimist!

For those who aren't familiar with Murphy's law, its a chaos theory that anything that can go wrong... WILL go wrong... Interesting line thought up by a ever-loveable wet blanket friend of mine.Lets do a check of what I've accomplished over the past few months since November

1) Admitted to hospital on 2 counts of suspected insanity!

2) Been suspected of having a missing brain and had a scan +x ray

3) Broke down with allergy due to medical 'remedy' for missing brain

4) Become a quarter of a century old

5) Entered a state of 'Oneness' with my computer

Hmm... not looking so hot! I won't even go into details about my love life (unless stalkers count I have none!) my mothers health or the losses to their families my friends have endured.

Well as the saying goes, when it rains it pours..... but no one warned me about the freakin floods! Its pretty odd that I find myself writing in a pseudo-paradotical perceptive of what has been going on. In actuallity, I find my self grasping at straws to find something amusing about the whole situation! What you can't fix, laugh off they say? That explains why I laugh so much I guess!

Looking for that silver lining

Amongst the clouds in my mind

A thin sparkle

A glimmer

Any sign of anything

But the suffocating gloom

Silver linings. A loser's answer to being buggered over and over again by either oneself or circumstances one would desparately like to believe is beyond one's control. I use the term 'buggered' very affectionately. Its the closest to intimacy for months I've had after all! The constant screw overs life gives you does place you in the mindset 'Damnit things can't get any worse!'. Again Murphy's Law rapidly kicks in to disprove that hyphotysis. Kicks it right between the nuts... (well for gents anyway.. lets not go into where ladies get kicked ;) )

The metaphor of 'being in sinking sand' some how seems inept. Sinking sand eventually chokes you to death. However, our dear chum Murphy takes evil delight; in a very masochistic fashion, of hurting you but denying you that final relief. Hell if Murphy's Law was a person, he'd be Japenese. Finding all sorts of new kinky ways to screw you over. From used school girls to ultra leather undies that choke the 'breath' out of you.

So heres to you Mr Murphy!

Heres to Murphy,

and his amazing law;

Like when you were caught

sleeping with your sister in law!

Or when that toxic truck

ran over your toe..

Giving its today's

evil eerie glow!

Making what's right,

so absolutely wrong;

Ridiculously dumb;

like a thermal thong.

Making a nonsense,

of the law of averages;

Hell, you'd make a killing

selling alcholic beverages

So Mr Murphy,

Heres my tribute to you;

May lighting strike your arse,

God knows its over due...

signing off for now ;)

Have a Murphy day

Mushy Crap

Well here is my quota of mush for the rest of this blogs life span. Singing in front of friends, sleepless nights, bad poetry, Bryan Adams lyrics. Must be drugs. No other explaination. Or is there? :p

Currently reading :

Stage love

Was that all it was?
It was a script
Touched by God
Two souls drifting
Looking for a part to play
No rehearsals
Love spilled from our lips
And from our hearts
Spoken without speech
You were my drifting angel
I was your retired romeo
A love story
That just had to unfold
The world around
Disappeared
All held their breaths
All wept
You played your role
And I lived mine
For all the acting
The world envied us
Look unto us
Like a light
That love’s fire lit
Never to burn out
Never to fade
On the stage
I just never thought
The play would be over
And I’d live my role alone

Currently listening to:

Everything I do - Bryan Adams

Look into my eyes - you will see
What you mean to me
Search your heart - search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
Look into your heart - you will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am - take my life I would give it all -
I would sacrifice
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you
There's no love - like your love
And no other - could give more love
There's nowhere - unless you're there
All the time - all the way
Oh - you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you - ya I'd die for you
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

Comedy Screen play

Another repost... from some thing I wrote when I was 15... so please forgive the corniness!!!!!! I was young and naive... and the hormones overwhelmed my brain cells :D

Dave: Hi there! *approaches her table*

Louise: Hi there, yourself…

Dave: Have you got the time? *looks her up and down*

Louise: Sure, it is nowww… *looks at her watch*

Dave: Good then, I’ll buy you a drink. *sits down*

Louise: That was a cheap pick up line *frown*

Dave: I’m a cheap person… *looks into her eyes*

Louise: Gee, I guess that makes you special? *holds his gaze*

Dave: Well, that’s what my doctor told my mom

Louise: How’s that possible? *frown*

Dave: Well, he said to my mom, (*acute accent*)‘Lady, I’ve been in this business for twenty years... never before has a baby I dropped, bounced back into my bloody hands!’ *grin*

Louise: Heh... is that so? *half smiles*

Dave: Sad to say, yes. But hey, you should have seen the model agencies that wanted to sign me up…*exaggerated sigh* but my mom turn them all down

Louise: And why is that, pray tell? *looks curious*

Dave: I think she had against about me front-paging national geographics… so they got an ape to do it instead. I could have been a star. *wistful pout*

Louise: You’re not that bad looking *smile*

Dave: You mean I’m not hideous; just plain ugly?

Louise: Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to…

Dave: Its ok, you can say it I’ve tried convincing gals not go just date me for my money…*sad smile*

Louise: So you get a lot of dates after your cash?

Dave: No, I don’t.. like I said I’ve tried convincing them… but they don’t seem to want to date me anyway *pout*

Louise: Hehe… maybe its your cigarette breath.. *rolls her eyes up mock innocently, smiling*

Dave: No way… I only smoke menthols… I’m not addicted… I’m not hooked on the stuff… I swear… *exaggerated stammering* Its j-jj-jus that it makes me fuh-fuh f-feel safe… *looks around himself paranoidly* and my head aches less…I only smoke when I need to… *Lights ups two cigarettes at a time*

Louise: Hehehe… yea rite! Well menthols are supposed to be bad for your ‘performance’

Dave: That’s not what they tell me at the circus… I’m told that it’s not the way I tell my jokes. They say I’m so good that every time they look at my face, they crack up, I mean they’re so sweet… I think *worried look*

Louise: Well, you do have killer looks for a clown *smile*

Dave: Well, my dad almost died when he saw me… Something about me looking like my mom’s ex-boyfriend… never could figure out what all the fuss was about… Uncle Albert used to visit all the time when daddy was out of town… *eyes innocently open wide*

Louise: You’re being silly…

Dave: I’m not being silly… I’m dead serious…Uncle Albert even used to give me lots of money to go buy some chocolates in the shops near by. He was such a nice guy wish he was my dad Come to think of it, the milkman was pretty cool too! *frown*

Louise: *laughs* So how old are you?

Dave: Me? I’m 20

Louise: Ahh huhh… so, not a teen anymore…

Dave: Hey, I’m not old, I’m a recycled teenager *defensively*

Louise: Do you work? *smile*

Dave: Only when I can’t help it. Well actually, when my wallet can’t help me and my credit cards freeze! *lifts his hands in resignation*

Louise: So, you don’t stay with your parents?

Dave: Nope, I stay with the animals I call my house mates *smile*

Louise: But do you visit your parents often?

Dave: Only when I get caught. Normally, I do a pretty good answering machine impression ‘the number you have dialed is not..’.

Louise: That’s mean! *hits him in the arm*

Dave: I prefer to call it survival instinct, you’ve obviously not seen my dad on a rampage after a few beers *sad smile*

Louise: I’m sorry. Does he get violent? *looks concerned*

Dave: I’ll say! He practically turns the place upside down looking for his whisky bottle… And my mom refuses to clean up the mess. Which leaves…

Louise: You?

Dave: Well, if I’m still sober after that bottle of whisky!

Louise: So you drink a lot huh? *frown*

Dave: God no! I’m a Christian for goodness sakes… *deep frown*

Louise: *blank look*

Dave: Only on Sundays; after church *whispers looking coyly away*

Louise: So you believe in God?

Dave: Well, someone’s got to take all the blame!

Louise: Hehehe. Call yourself a Christian… *leans slightly forward*

Dave: Well, I’ve been called worse things *smile*

Louise: I hear Roman Catholics don’t use condoms… *bites her lower lip*

Dave: Good grief! Of course I practice safe sex!

Louise: Oh, reallyyyyy?

Dave: Yea… I make sure her boyfriends not some 7 footer monster rugby player with a black belt or something before I do anything! *wink*

Louise: Hehehe… So u sleep around a lot huh?

Dave: Only when I can’t afford my rent… Hey do you dance or are those legs for display purposes? *looks at the dance floor*

Louise: Only when cute guys ask me…

Dave: *pretends to look around* Damn, don’t see any Mickey Mouse lookalikes around. I guess I’ll have to do, huh? *takes her hand*

Louise: We all have to compromise some times I guess… *smiles*

*exit to the dance floor*