Protected: Clowning Around In A Suit

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Protected: Rear Guard

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Surprising Uncle Bryan

2 weeks ago at one of Aunty Naleeza’s parties, when Uncle Bryan was off getting a slice of cake, Aunty Sadna came over and told us Her Plan. Welcome to Uncle Bryan’s Surprise Party.

Surprising Uncle Bryan was no easy task. He was a veteran of 9 Surprise Parties and counting.

So we went over to his house early on a Saturday evening, hid the car and went inside to meet the other conspirators. We set up helium filled balloons with greeting cards attached and I was tasked with taking photos. I was a bit worried about being the photographer for a special event because I am utterly hopeless at doing night shots. Most of them end up blurry and flash is not an option because flash looks fucking awful.

So when Aunty Sadna called to tell us she was on her way back with Uncle Bryan we all got into position to ambush him in the front corridor. I took my position, ready to capture the look of shock on his face.

When the both of them reached the door I struggled not to laugh…

“Where are the keys?”

“They’re with you blondie!”

“Oh”

“Thanks blondie.”

“(sigh)”

“Maybe you should go in first?”

So he opened the door to a barrage of camera flashes. He must have felt like Brad Pitt getting attacked by paparazzi. He was a bit dazzled at first, entering a pitch dark room and then getting assaulted by123765 camera flashes at once kinda, sorta plays hell with your vision.

So when he eventually was able to see again…

I’m not surprised!

Happy Birthday Uncle Bryan!

Searching for more presents inside his present…

Uncle Brian attempting to hide himself in his brand new suitcase.

There was Singing… And there was Dancing…

Well, he was pleasantly surprised…

So we ate, we drank and we be merry!

Had a thoroughly good time and went home with our bellies full of good food and wonderful memories… Cliche I know, but yea…

Oh and for those who want to know how he found out about the surprise party… Simple, he found 20 cans of beer in the fridge. Quite a hint haha…

Why We Fight

I end up doing many things for the wrong reasons. To be someone I’m not, to impress someone I shouldn’t.

But I did it anyway. Why?

Because I was the only one who could bear witness to my own stupidity. It didn’t bother me though. Should it?

The way I see it why the hell not? Do it to be someone your not for a change! Do it to impress someone you shouldnt’! Do it for shits and giggles!

Warning

If you are reading this, then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don’t you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can’t think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you’re supposed to read? Do you think everything you’re supposed to think? Buy what you’re told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you’re alive. If you don’t claim your humanity, you will become a statistic. You have been warned …

Fight Club! I really, really want to watch that movie… M18 is pain in the ass.

Protected: Nighttime

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Powerful Effects Theory

I was hanging out with Grandma at Compasspoint today. She needed to run some errands so I decided to tag along.

As usual, she made sure I had something for lunch. A Double Whopper Meal. After which we just wandered around. She got some clothes for Uncle Raja’s newborn twins.

We also went to Best Denki. I wanted to check on the price of the Senheisser PX100 headphones I had been oggling. My Dad agreed to use his credit card points to get it for me.

After getting the price, I turned around and was shocked to hear machinegun fire right behind me. I resisted the impulse to dive behind a $1,499 plasma television and instead turned around to find out who was shooting at me.

It was some German machinegunner and his MG3 unleashing hot lead on an Allied landing party playing on the telly. I think it was Saving Private Ryan. Whatever it was, it enthralled me. For some strange reason. The camera switched to the inside of the Higgins Landing Craft with the Allied Soldiers in it. They were all very young.

Next thing I knew, the armored front doors of the landing craft opened and machinegun fire streamed in. The first man had his chest perforated with 7.92mm lead rounds. Then the second took a bullet through the helmet. And then a third Soldier fell. And then a fourth. And very soon, the landing craft was filled with dead men. The most most disturbing part of the whole thing was the lost expressions on their faces. How they stood still not knowing what to do as the other Soldiers, their friends just died infront of them.

For some reason, it was very, very shocking.

Saving Private Ryan was a movie. The Omaha Beach Landing was not.

Every waking moment has been a stressful one these past few days. The nights are no different. I have Dreams. Not nightmares, Dreams.

I fucking hate them. I fucking hate Dreams. I never want to Dream ever again. Its terrible, its cruel to dream. You know painful it is to wake up from a Dream and find yourself back in the cold harsh reality you went to bed from.

But hey, what doesn’t emotionally wreck you only makes you stronger…

Protected: Woman

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

You Do The Walk Of Life

He do the song about the sweet lovin’ woman
He do the song about the knife
He do the walk, he do the walk of life

And after all the violence and double talk
There’s just a song in all the trouble and the strife
You do the walk, you do the walk of life

This is Life. A Sweet Loving Woman and a Knife.

Deal with it. We all have it the same.

You just shut up and do the Walk. You do the Walk Of Life.

Dinesh Learns To Rock

It was 11:07pm.

I had taken this to a new level of madness. There I was, in the dark and dingy dining room, sitting down guitar on my lap staring at my laptops glaring white LCD screen.

I looked like a madman.

The bloodshot eyes, unkempt hair and tatty t-shirt. What was I doing? I had more important things to do. Study, do my homework, clean up my room.

But no, here I was trying out an old Dream I threw aside years ago.

So I sought advice from people who played the guitar and people who simply could listen to me. Gabriel told me about the pricings of guitars, the differences between bass and regular guitars. My Uncle listened and told me to make sure it was what I wanted to do. Uncle Barry told me to learn the acoustic first, told me the difference between playing an acoustic and playing an electric. Sonia told me how to learn the guitar myself and was generally very optimistic.

So thank you all for helping me out, I really appreciate it.

Like I said before…

I still remember what it felt like. Music blasting through antique speakers, singing madly while playing an air guitar. I’d write something long and poetic, but Bono already wrote down my feelings years ago coincidentally…

One day you will look… back
And you’ll see… where
You were held… how
By this love… while
You could stand there
You could move on this moment
Follow this feeling

So, here I go, down this long and windy and musical part. I’d use my old snowball anaology of stupid ideas, but my pessimism can jolly well fuck off for now. I’m going to be optimistic.