Saturday, April 25, 2009

Burn ( by Ray LaMontagne)

Why do people say " Don't worry about it, It won't happen in a million years"... It's not like we’ll ever have a million years to test that shit out.

Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous. Like people saying "I have no regrets. If I had a choice I wouldn't change a thing"... I mean do they even sit down and consider the alternatives.

What if the alternative was being born as rich as a king, the body of a god and superpowers like flying and shit. Make any man or woman fall in love with you and do whatever you want where you want.

How the fuck is that absurd thing an alternative.

Ok I went a bit overboard. But there are always alternatives to consider.

True. But sometimes you’ve just got to realise that you’re all alternativ-ed out.

This conversation isn’t going anywhere.

Why do people say that? Why the intent to always get everything somewhere. Something even as everyday as conversations.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Jamaica Farewell

Jamaica did something bad yesterday. I know that because I live in the west village in Manhattan.

For you see, the west village is also where the best known gay bar in the city claims residence (this is ofcourse purely coincidental).

Now yesterday, after what was a grueling day at work, I got out of the subway stop and made my way home. I passed said bar and noticed a fair crowd gathered outside the bar, complete with a camera crew from some TV station, like some buzzing irritating fly.

Movie crews are always shooting in Manhattan, and the west village in particular, so after a while it becomes part of the background very soon. Glamour and the movies are enchanting only as long as they’re not easily accessible.

But this was different. There was black liquid flowing down the streets.

Bear with me.

Apparently the Jamaicans had pissed off the Gay and Lesbian community somehow. I’m not sure how those hippy liberal buggers managed that, but they did. And the gay bar, in a show of reproach, had decided never to serve Jamaican rum ever again. Fair enough. But...but they went as far as to actually empty their whole stock of Jamaican rum on the streets.

Now then…
Allow me to catch my breath.

Now, it’s a universal truth that it takes a lot for a man to throw or waste alcohol away. But to throw what is probably a years supply is just plain ridiculous. I mean c'mon, there are so many other options. Resort to violence, sing hip hop songs to jamaicans (they hate that), do a protest rally, don't go to jamaica ever (99.99% of their GDP is from tourism. That should hurt).

This though, is just pushing things way too far.

I felt like Captain Jack Sparrow felt when that numbnut of a woman burned his cache of rum on that island.

And I’m still seething.

If anyone suggests burning away jamaican grown marijuana, I'm going to resort to violence. While singing hip hop songs.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Another Brick In The Wall

Been hiding.
Firstly there was the birthday recovering. Then there were other birthdays and recovering from them. Then there was random merry making. I think I'm turning into an alcoholic. I'd quit, but it's so much fun, and the alternative sounds like something me and my friends would laugh at.

Which reminds me...isn't Apple the new Microsoft? In the evil empire way. It's everywhere. In the coffee shops, in the offices, on the tele, in hollywood, on that hot girls ear, in my ear. There's just so much peer pressure.

My next laptop is going to be a windows based one.
Ok I lie.

Anyway.

Oh and this was bound to happen. It was waiting to. Like a tick ticking timebomb.

"Ineligible Bachelors: Indian Men Living in U.S. Strike Out"
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123896998996190775.html

But really? "Wife hunting trips"... wtf is that? What cereal are these journalists eating? Should I be responding with "Anyone know a good hunting-jacket shop?"

Although, my office is going to have a field day with that article. Sigh.

I Think We're Alone Now

Pitter patter patter it away there's a world out there  it don't care either way  it want to grab it want to hold  it wants your s...