this is a coconut shell, and i am it's frog

Sunday, December 23, 2007
Boredom is directly proportionate to the number of blog posts/month. fershizzlemahchizzle.

I can't even think of something remotely interesting to write. Besides the fact the HNR is talking less nowadays, I think she's finally beginning to get the hint with the constant ignoring that I do. She asked me to do her laundry today though. wth. The other day she insisted that I was addicted to my computer and gave me a long lecture on how this is so bad, I don't have a social life, this are the sins of the generation, and to top it all off, said that I'll never be successful in managing a relationship and marriage. And she went on and on for a good half hour. I exaggerate not.

wth I almost kicked her. Just because I find YOU annoying and don't want to talk to you...

The worst part? you know how ppl fake-laugh to make something they said less serious? yeah she does that. Close to bashing her face in.

I'm getting violent thoughts. Help. Good thing that I'm out of here sooner rather than later. Don't get me wrong, I love NYC but this crazy... thing...

So she's a 38 year old unemployed baby sitter. She spent all day at home the other day, and when I came home from work she said "I think my neighbour is *finger moves in clockwise motion over temple* I think she's on disability *snigger* cause I heard her moving in and out all day today". Right. Look in the mirror. She sat at home all day spying on her neighbour and thinks that the neighbour is crazy? wooooahhhhh the sheer stupidity of her statement blew me away. Stunned incredulity is the only way I can describe what I felt.

She also said this the other day "you know, you shouldn't just sleep under the comforter. There are sheets you should sleep under cause the comforter is only washed every now and then." I thought, ok, fair enough, then belatedly, this other thought hit me - the only way a person would know if I'm sleeping under the sheets or under the comforter is if that person watches me very closely while I sleep...

I'm scared. Very scared. If I don't make it back to Halifax, I love you all.
*looks over shoulder*

In other news, fat Jon was in town. And he's even fatter. gasp. We went to Gordon Ramsey's two michelin star restaurant here in NYC, and believe me... I've never ever had a meal like that before. Every bite was more orgasmic than an orgasm, we were constantly left speechless with the food. Like fireworks, like a baroque painting, like explosions, rainbows, sunshine, Gisele Bundchen, all in your mouth at the same time. As one of his friends said "eat already chao khan!"

Chao khan indeed.

Speaking of Gisele Bundchen, the victoria's secret fashion show was on the other day. gasp. These women ah. Put them in a guni sack and tie it with rafia and they'd still look good. Not just good, but unrealistically good. What kind of freak combination of genetics would you need to look like that? Unreal.
The spice girls also made an appearance. They sang the same old song, did the same old dance moves and more or less looked the same except that the dance moves were wooden (obviously those bones are a lot creakier and older) the wrinkles were obvious and the tight-fitting clothes didn't do any flattery to the pounds the years have mounted on them. I mean, the pre-pubescent fans that they drove mad are 10 years older, (hopefully) more mature and looking for jobs now. Who in the world would be interested in music that went out of fashion 10 years ago? With no attempt to change or update the songs, or the dance moves. Sang by close to middle age, chubbier, wrinklier women. shrug.
Lots of ppl apparently cause last I heard their concert was sold out.

The world is a funny place indeed.

Nutjob roommates, unattractive, uninovative spice girls still being attractive and orgasmic food.

A funny funny place indeed.

bla bla bla snore snore. I wonder how the lot in KL are doing?

Oh merry Christmas everyone!
posted by theycallmecruel @ 5:50 AM   1 comments
Monday, December 10, 2007
the HNR

NYC. Week one. That's right, ze big apple. It looks just like the movies. And the people are just as nasty. But! *frank sinatra in background* I really really really wouldn't mind practicing here at all. Definitely better than kampung Halifax. Once a big city boy, always a big city boy.

I really liked Manc. I really, really, really liked London. But I'm friggin' in love with NYC. And that's being said with not knowing anyone. Kinda says something. We'll see if I feel the same by the time I leave.

In the mean time though let me mention the HNR - harmless nutjob roommate. I found her on the craigslist, and as hers was the cheapest place on offer, I took it up. It was only for a month, and the place looked clean. She sounded perfectly sane and normal in our correspondence. Little did I know...

Here are two excerpts from the emails she's been sending to me while at work. Yes, while at work.

"Best secret to save money on overpriced deoderant (b/c it all has the same active ingredient) is to buy 1 lemon every 2wks, cut it in 1/2 and wipe under your arms- this kills any odor and most of the time I am dry or if I sweat, it's minor and ok b/c it's healthy drainage for toxins but with no odor. "

"If you get tired, drink 6oz of water at work - that should feed your brain cells and wake you up a bit. I also have sippy thermoses that you can store juice in rather than spending $2 every time your thirsty. 48oz-64oz of juice is $4.69 so it makes economical sense to buy juice and transfer into thermos for work. If you mix juice with water, you not only protect your teeth from too much natural sugar, the juice lasts a long time. I buy 2 48oz juices per month and dilute with reverse osmosis water (distilled water which is the most safest on earth). keep food in your coat pockets and nipple throughout the day.

Nipple throughout the day, it seems. She starts most conversations with "i read it on the internet..." Yes, cause everything on the internet is true and can be trusted. She spends long hours telling me to eat this type of bread and drink this type of water and cook with this type of oil to prolong life expectancy. She spent 30 mins telling me how Jesus didn't die on the cross (he just pretended *shrug the nails through the hands and spear in the side kinda convinces me*), is actually French, had 4 kids and spent 10 years of his childhood in India.

And the worst part? I was standing in the bathroom door really needing to excrete, and she didn't get the hint and just continued talking. How do you politely close the door to take a dump while someone is looking at you and talking and talking and talking?

Quite the nutjob, but I have yet to find decapitated goats heads lying around. Or seen her berkangkang over the bread. So overall harmless. I think. I hope. For now. *looks over shoulder*

It's only for a month with the HNR, I tell myself. Again and again. And again. And then again.

This would be the first and last time I find another roommate on the craigslist.

But NYC!! gasp gasp.

posted by theycallmecruel @ 11:04 AM   2 comments
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Goodbye Manc
2100, GMT +0 1st december, Nottingham. Steamboat with ah keen and hary, among others. Jokes too vulgar for publication made. Lots of talk about mushrooms.

0100, 2nd December, Manchester, packing at the royal

0115, yvinne calls and says bye bye.

0200, the royal, Jaycen wants last dota game. Temptation knocks, but my resilient discipline resists. rawr.

0330, the royal, lose to cm at pro evo soccer. Twice.

0500, the royal, beat cm at NBA 2k8, once.

0530, the royal, last minute packing. Cab arriving in 30 mins. Stuff still in dryer. Typical, typical. Frantic folding commences.

0557, the royal, ray mumbles goodbye. Shout goodbye at lena. Grunt heard in response. Image of my dad flashes through my mind.

0600, random taxi cab, cm emotional. Wj numb. Spitting rain completes Korean drama-like farewell.

0615, random taxi cab, talk about travelling to random taxi man. I have no idea what he’s saying half the time, though I know he’s speaking English. Surrealistic feeling dominates as I watch the dark mancunian scenery, lit by Christmas lights. The silence envelopes me. Like a big black... something... eating me.

0630, Manchester airport, terminal 1. no flight listed on the tv screen. Dontpanicdontpanicdontpanicdontpanic.

0645, Manchester airport, terminal 2, flight found. Breathes again.

0800, Manchester airport, food2go café, discovers Manchester tarts. On my last day. How ironic.

0900, LX0391, somewhere over paris. Feels the need to curse, smoke, and hate life.

1045, Zurich airport. By far the nicest airport I’ve ever been in. Just aesthetically pleasing. Straight simple lines, lots of glass, wide open spaces. Beautiful simplicity. These swiss people.

1300, LX 0014, somewhere over the atlantic. Gets irritated at big german man constantly elbowing me.

1600, GMT -5, JFK airport, new york. Snow covers most of manhattan. The big black something shows it's head again. I'm scared.
posted by theycallmecruel @ 10:08 AM   3 comments

    LIFE is like a glass of coke, it may seem full but it's actually just all froth.


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ribbit Chinaman in Canada, no more. i still can't come up with a better phrase.
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