irks and ire

I'm not the one to complain, absolutely not, but there is a slight annoyance that's growing into major irritation and it's got to do with my neighbours downstairs.
They have a dog whom they often leave on a leash long enough to circle this entire city of Shanghai and he's tied outside for the most part of the day leaving him free to go about as he pleases and bark at unsuspecting cats to the point of chasing and even fighting with them and this poses a bit of a problem, well quite a few problems.

A shorter leash would limit his capabilities and keep him from coming under cars that frequent that area since there's also a parking space, not two feet from where he sits and it's difficult to manoeuvre a car while that dog is around because it's easy for him to prance about and come under the tyres.

Moreover, his long leash renders him capable of running around the entrance area of this building right up to the stairs that are inside the building and maul cats who use those stairs to come home, and this is a growing concern vis-a-vis my cat.

I was in the bath today when I heard faint noises of a madly barking dog followed by faint screaming sounds of a terrorized cat which made me run out of the bathroom in a bathrobe to hear the ruckus better and looking out of the window I saw only the green leash of the dog and the way it curved inwards was enough to indicate that the dog had come inside the building.
Donning my clothes while still dripping I saw my darling cat Gogi engaged in a serious confrontation with the dog right at the entrance of the building.
The cat wanted to come in and the dog wouldn't let him by way of steadily barking and trying to pounce my cat which infuriated me no ends.

To leap in the midst of the tussle and grab my feline was for me the work of moments and I bared my teeth at the dog who now barked and I made back to the house.
My cat was lightly scratched with no injuries but looked shaken and that I cursed the dog and his owners freely would be an understatement.

I don't know how to rectify this situation since the neighbours downstairs are my very dear friends' good friends and I don't want to be in that circus.
Perhaps if I keep the entrance door of this building locked this situation wouldn't arise or possible it may get even worse.

There is another concern regarding the road outside of their house which they've encroached upon to dump their useless junk.
Things that didn't fit into their house like a very long workman table, old air conditioning units and a very long tarp rolled into a thick roll. All this scrap has been laying outside eating dust for the past year, through the winters and every rain.
For sure it's reduced to detritus and it eats up the huge space on the road which earlier allowed two cars to park and now that garbage keeps cars from getting parked in that space.
And in fact, it poses such a problem each time one needs to reverse a car from the parking space because people park their cars at odd angles because of the detritus which in turn blocks other cars and it's most vexatious.

There is a strict policy of 'let's not bother others' that people here follow and the small annoyances are usually ignored and I am a huge subscriber to the policy but only when it's followed by everyone in turn.
This issue is now aggravating me to the point that I might just go downstairs and knock on their door.
But if the building management isn't saying anything regarding their trash on the roads than how can I?
But surely I can discuss the whole dog issue with them, right?

Ugh!!
I'm upset and angry.

don't inhale when they exhale

Of what I possess a balcony in my house, my diagonally opposite neighbours downstairs have a veranda five times the size of my balcony which they have like every lucky ground floor (or 1st floor in China) resident turned into a beautiful garden, complete with flowers and grass bed, with a small garden swing and coffee table..beautiful indeed! and since this weather brings out our inner most jubilant citizen, the neighbours have taken to parking their afternoons in the garden and spending time..marvelous! and here's where the problem arises.

Right above their fabulous garden is a room which belongs to the second-floor (or 1st floor really) denizens of this side of the villa.. a room which is actually a study that has a table facing the window, the very same window which I waxed poetic lyrics about keeping open in this beautiful weather to let in breezy sunshine and cool zephyrs; what I didn't account for was chain smoking inhabitants who puff away like a hard working chimney in their garden letting thick clouds of grimy smoke waft up, for it is in the nature of air to travel and travel it does right through the window and into my face.

I mean yes they're smoking on their property but I get to inhale it for no want of mine.

Now, I have nothing against smokers..I mean I used to be one, but the smell of second-hand smoke, especially in a weather so fine, coming through a window to seep into my lungs isn't exactly my idea of Joie de Vivre.

I could in a light hearted manner were I on good terms with these people make a remark regarding the same, but then I'm not..as in I'm not on any terms with them.
I remember greeting them with a smile and receiving a nonchalant scowl after which, well, I stopped greeting them.
Perhaps this could be something to do with the fact that they're older than time itself, and old people tend to get a bit testy and annoyed; all the more reason why I'm going to let them smoke in peace and pull down my glass panes on inhaling the slightest hint of their stinking smog.

fitnss misery

That's just it, the thing with doing a long stretch of cool down post workout; I dispensed with yoga for today and just did a ten minute stretching workout to cool down my body and it's always after such cool downs that your body comes to a state of total relaxation and you let yourself think that you could've worked out a bit more.
There's this sudden feeling of over confident fitness that you forget the last 45 minutes of extensive workout out, out of which the last ten minutes were spent flapping around like a beached whale on the mat berating yourself for this torture.
Might be something to do with happy hormones, so happy that they almost try to convince you that you can do better. lift heavier, push harder, jump higher, when in fact you'd reached a saturation point in terms of your physical level of exertion wondering why liposuction isn't nearly as popular as it should be.
Of course, once you've settled down with a meal and what not there are parts in your anatomy that begins a song of sorts. Ones twanged with ache and sore pains.
Lower back, that felt like a lubricated engine of unstoppable energy suddenly turns into a spinal cord that's been through a wringer.

Sometimes especially during mornings you feel like you want to pussy out of this whole debacle.
It happened to me today, not because it was what my body was telling me, but because I was making excuses to not sweat. It was laziness and I would have listened to it had I not remembered the doughnut from Monday.
I had to melt away all the fat it added to my body, but in fact I needed an incentive to be able to eat another one sometime soon in the future without worrying much about it.
Also, if I'd given in to laziness today I'd do it tomorrow as well and it could continue until I fell out of habit and started making excuses, and that's not something we can have, is it?
If there's a good thing going, efforts should be made to make it better.
There's a difference between ok and good, and though it might seem like a thin line reaching over to the other side needs be supplemented with a little bit more.

Everything you ever need is on top of the stairs and there are no elevators and escalators don't work. Arghh!!

Foto fiddle

Food photography though nothing nearly as difficult as boiling water is really all about aesthetics.
Different people have different aesthetics and thus a different approach towards taking pictures. One could assume that every artist or so called who's good with his/her hands in drawing or painting is automatically a good photographer and it's not so.
I've plenty artists on my instagram feed who do not know the first thing about contrasts or balance in a picture and then there are some who couldn't be called anything remotely artistic not by a long shot, yet their photo shots and compositions are beautiful.

Where am I going with this?
Nowhere except that there are some who are largely ignored by 'learning curve', strictly food photography speaking.
I've come across many a insta accounts with a few thousand followers which in my opinion are a good lot many and they are primarily a foodpic account and not one, not a singular food picture they post on their account is even passable.

Extreme close ups, tight composition, background issues, photo/food composition, low lighting, underexposure, awkward angle, shallow depth of field, unsharp or dull, flat lighting, white balance issue, harsh lighting/overexposure are just a few follies that plague almost all their pictures and yet they keep posting a dozen photo's a week with the zealousness of a religious fanatic followed by an essay of hashtags which include words like #foodporn, #photography etc and here's the problem.

Foodporn isn't about food, it's about the presentation of food which may or may not be delicious in reality. It's about appealing to baser instincts of the viewer with the ability to make anyone salivate who looks at the photograph and for that the aesthetics have to be absolutely in sync with the thought behind the picture.

When a photo in question is marred by above mentioned problems the hashtag #foodporn is automatically out of question because no matter how tasty the food in reality may be, if the photograph doesn't translate it's exquisiteness then it's no point calling it anything porn because it fails to arouse my greed to eat it immediately.
So when I look at accounts that are created by people who love 'photography', 'food', 'travelling' etc and have a whole wall of badly clicked food pictures in an odd yellow lighting which probably comes from trying to beautify those photo's, since those are their aesthetics I'm always at a loss as to how a) this person's pictures haven't improved in almost two years b)why do they have such a large following c)why do so many people comment on these pics telling them how delicious they look d)why must these people insist on being proud of their pics when clearly there are a hundred thousand better food pics accounts out there to at least learn from.

So what I gather is that they completely fail to comprehend that what they call #foodporn photography is in fact just bad photography and that they just do not understand the difference between good and bad pictures.
For them any shot which has been edited to whatever ghastly editing they perceive is good enough to be hashtagged into oblivion and those who write good things about it in the comment sections are either sycophants or just as ignorant about photography.

I'm not trying to ridicule anyone or claim myself to be on top of the photography food chain, it's merely about how these accounts that bravely brandish their profiles as food lovers and photographers are in fact completely clueless about it and it irks me to see that they make no attempts at improving either.
Maybe they don't feel the need or perhaps they just don't have that learning curve or could be they already have enough followers to warrant that they're good enough.

'good enough', now that's a word hate. Problem with everything being just 'good enough' is that it isn't very good.

Ah, that's a bit about my photo rant.

my curtains are white

A pair of no good rubber bands for arms today. Were I to hold on to some air I'd probably drop it to the floor and watch it crack in several places, thankfully I'd be in a good place though for it'd float right back because it's not glass.
Now holding glass is something I'll have to worry about lest it carpet my floors with a million diamond like shards, quick to puncture and draw slits on bare feet..Imagine all the wet bloody footprints in my house. Though of course they won't be all THAT visible, for the floors are a wonderful terracotta tinted brown and I've strayed from the point.

My arms, that feel like I've traded them for some cooked noodles, courtesy upper body and core workout.
I can feel them shaking or rather vibrating and typing feels like an almost ethereal function. Fingers? what are those?
Everything below shoulders and shoulders included has turned into this sore raw wound that talks each time I even breathe a little.
A pair of aching delusions for limbs that vibe with a torture chamber.
If horses were to draw them apart (my arms) I'd probably give a friendly nod and ask for an encore because that'd be far more pleasurable than letting them hang down my sides.
Why did I do this to myself today?
probably because I was full of zeal and looking outside the window gave me such an annoyed feeling what with the enthusiastic cimmerian shade and apocalyptical murky tint that I resolved to drown my bleak mood in wholesome workout, except the dimness from the world out eclipsed my mood in twin shades of pessimistic dejection that I probably drove myself catatonic with my arms.

Talk about masochism.
I feel like I've infiltrated desecrated grounds of self pain infliction and drove myself hard impaling on self hate stake, but don't think me unhappy, for exercising releases happy hormones and these are probably my extremely joyous hormones talking, albeit on a bad day.
 

one shot to renew repose

This is in fact afternoon or early evening as some might call it and sunset is but an hour away, and this might not be the time to rant about last night considering the small window reserved for nighttime rants is open but momentarily in mornings, yet this is hardly the place to observe correct rant protocols.

last night after my last post I so wholeheartedly wanted to sleep. Shutting my eyes, trying to zero in one one thought that'd soon dissolve and consolidate into one thick dream (or not) and I'd be sweetly humming a zzz tune.

This however was not to be. How could it? It's when you zealously anticipate sleep with a readiness so enthusiastic is exactly when it'll play the treacherous mistress given to lewd perfidiousness and refuse to pay you the minisculest attention you so richly deserve.
Well, I kept imploring. Lying prostrate in a meditative husk, even mistakenly going as far as to invoke the damned infidel, but No. That miserable chatelaine wouldn't as much as blow a kiss in my direction and so I lay.. awake.

I'd shut my eyes hard to kill all thoughts and it felt like I'd inadvertantly in doing so opened the memory floodgates that threatened to drown me in tormenting desolation.
I'd but the cat keeping me company in my sleeplessness. That nocturnal creature lay awake, sitting quietly by my side, gently purring and sharing warmth.

Just when I thought I'd glided unseen, uninvited in sleepy realm, I was rudely banished without a single explanation. That's when I woke up with a parched throat and thoughts I thought I'd slept on still lingering in my head.
I was not for a single moment completely asleep throughout the night.
It was a static limbo, the best that could be offered my way; where my dreams were a mirror echo of what was going on in my mind. None of that dreamy/nightmarish absurdity. Just a straight simple reality that kept hammering into me that I wasn't asleep.

Sometime in the morning when I felt that ashen light had begun feeding on retreating dark I heard a meow and knew it to be the cat's time to be let out.
Once he was gone I ran back into my bed, fitting neatly in the exact same warm spot I'd left not moments ago, encouraged to sleep, going so far as to reassure myself that now is the time you finally get a shuteye. But of course I was way over my head with optimism and all I did for the next two hour after was shuffle my sleepy position, while keeping eyes shut, tossing and turning and feeling wary of my shoulders and arms getting in between a perfect sleeping posture.

Finally I let go and caved in to reality. The usual routine followed with an added vibration of sussurating ache between my shoulder blades and legs.
And what am I if not a recurring masochist. Through all that I did I hefty workout that helped crumble whatever was left of my smarting visage. Throbbing with fresher ache and sore in places I didn't think I'd have the pleasure of knowing, I sit and listen to what's left of the audiobook 'razor girl'.

The only consolation is that this meritorious fresh pain has mostly camouflaged last night's anguish

Thurshate

The bane of weekend that is Thursday.
Where have I been? chained to the stove. Really. Cooking since morning. Breakfast, lunch and then packed dinner. And now, phew.
the agenda for today is that there is none.

Apart from work that's always a side spectacle there's isn't any majority of fantastical events taking place today.
So what does I do? perhaps read and finish 'snow'. if i can today.

Story writing, now that's something I've not been able to do in a long while, and it bothers me that I can't keep up the commitment.
It shouldn't be that way, should it?And I shouldn't come with lame excuses for doing so either.
There shouldn't be a month long gap between story writing. Not more than two weeks I say.

remind me if and when I don't put up a story regularly. Scold me if necessary. Can't keep lagging behind on things.

You know how you can scrunch up long sheets of aluminum foil into a small ball..I feel the same about my day sometimes. It starts long and within moments its beginning to end. How do I do it? keep a sane kindly facade in a day that's resolved to be inimical.
There it is again..excuses.hah.

kill kill kill

And now torrenthound is gone too..

These are dark times.

You are not your own anymore, never were, even lesser now. censorship was already controlling the 'what you watch' aspect of things and now the 'how you watch' is controlled too. we'd be paying for our oxygen very soon..perhaps already are, what with giant sized air purifiers..

Shutting down torrent sites one after the other, just so we can pay for everything, watch it streaming, stop sharing. It wasn't just movies and series..it was books, anime's, music, audiobooks, porn, comics, games..it was a community.. It was about camaraderie, about altruism. About doing good without knowing anyone. doing good for others. Selflessness..uploading, seeding were small embers of hopeful light in a world wrought with self destruction, hate, wars, racism and selfishness.

   And they want to put an and to all of that, because apparently piracy was making it difficult for them to upgrade to diamond studded platinum platters instead of their usual 24 karat gold ones.

Oh come on, just one dime away from a corporate's pocket and they create such a  ruckus, as to destroy these little virtual messages and rays of magnanimous humanity that shone on this dying desecrated world.
Torrent sites were not hateful, they were kind and charitable. Committed to noble acts of sharing and bringing forth light to one and all.. to people with limited access. They enlightened and helped..these sites weren't thieving content. They were simply making copies, and is having two or million instead of just the one ever a bad thing?

Torrents brought awareness, popularized forgotten phenomenon's, even uplifted them to cult status..they helped spread the word. You'd think some random series/movie/book/comic/game/music from a far away country would have ever garnered such rapid acclaim and idolization had it not been for torrents?

GoT would have not been a household name, had kat.cr not existed to distribute it freely to every acne ridden hormone fueled teenager, bored husbands and desperate old men..and I cite this as just a small example.
The only reason why 4th world people living in 5th world squalor know of every Beyonce song is not because of its repeated airplays on Mtv, but because of torrents. Is it really that hard to understand?

You kill torrents, you kill your chances at ever being this popular and recognized..anything for that matter.

Have fun being a part of dark ages..for you know not how evil can mutate itself into the most unforeseeable forces of calamitous future.
Things never go the way you expect them to go. 

rage

Alright, so here's a real frustrating situation

I opened the chrome browser app on my phone to write a blog, and typed in 'blogspot.com' and it directed me to an already existing long defunct blog page. Well, I signed out of that and it led me to a new google sign in page.

So I signed in, using a different email address, and again went to the blogger.com address, except this time it opened the same long defunct homepage of my old blog. 

Well, I want to sign in with a different e mail into a different blog.

I've signed put of that place a hundred times and yet each time that I want to log in with a new address it opens the same homepage of an already existing blog. It just refuses to understand that maybe I'd like to be given the option to sign in to a blog and see a blogger.com sign in page that expects me to log in or sign in or some similar shite.

The moment I type in blogger.com, it redirects me to my old blog homepage, and this after signing in with a new e mail address each time. I don't understand why this idiotic google doesn't understand that I need to sign in to a different blog, instead of the same old blog it keeps throwing at my face, and refuses to sign me out of that. 

WHAT THE FUCK!!! GOOGLE, 

IT'S SO FRUSTRATING, THAT I CANT SEEM TO OPEN YOUR BLOGGER SIGN IN PAGE!

why must you redirect each attempt at opening blooger.com to an already existing blog's homepage, one that I don't use anymore???, when I've signed out of there a thousand times already.

I want to log in to a different account and gain access to a different blog. is it so hard to understand????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

UPDATE ON THIS MADNESS:

I DELETED THE STUPID APP AND DOWNLOADED IT AGAIN, AND NOW IT FINALLY SHOWS ME A BLOGGER SIGN IN PAGE INSTEAD OF REDIRECTING ME SOMEPLACE I DIDN'T WANT.

WTF GOOGLE? YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME SO WELL, THAT YOU'D SEND ME PLACES I HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING, THAT YOU'D REFUSE TO SIGN ME OUT OF THERE A HUNDRED TIMES OVER, THAT YOU'D NOT UNDERSTAND THAT I HAVE ANOTHER BLOG THAT I MIGHT NEED ACCESS TO VIA BROWSER?

FUCK YOU! YOU'RE SO FUCKING SHITTY THAT YOU DON'T EVEN UPDATE YOUR BLOGGER APP., THE ONLY SANE THING TO COME OUT OF YOUR HIDEOUSLY INVASIVE PIECE OF GONORRHEA RIDDEN DOLLAR BUTTS!  

I SPENT TWO HOURS JUST TRYING TO SIGN OUT OF A BLOG PAGE AND YOU DIDN'T LET ME! YOU JUST DIDN'T! THIS AFTER NEVER SIGNING IN TO YOUR CHROME APP USING MY E MAIL ADDRESS. THIS IS HOW HIDEOUSLY SHITTY YOU ARE! 

FUCK YOU GOOGLE! FUCK YOU UP THE ASS SO HARD THAT YOU CAN'T EAT FOR A FUCKING MILLENNIA. 

Oh bother

Bothersome shite: 

Flimsy VPN. Blank IP location and still shows connected, fooling poor saps who harbour the illusion that they're connected to the world, when in fact this VPN connection is more extinct than a dodo. 

A very sick Gogi. Who can't even walk, who was in the animal hospital for over a week because his leg was terribly mauled to the bone in a fight. He's in such agonizing pain that it makes me weep just to watch him try to stand up. (It hurts me so much that it's a bother, if I find that cat who's done it..he'll regret he was ever born) 

The following bothers are image less but they're bothersome no less: 

• pest infestation of my flower plant. A white coloured fluffy looking disgustingly gross pest that has invaded the stalks of my beautiful 7am flowers. I'm ridding them using mild detergent water, to weaken their shells from the alkaline.

• a leg muscle that I pulled yesterday from running, as I was trying to evade a vehicle that showed no respect for zebra crossing. 

• I've no new book to read 

• don't get enough sleep and my body seems allergic to napping.

• upcoming Chinese holidays for moon festival starting day after tomorrow, that might turn my house into a zoo, since long weekends call for animal like sloppiness from a certain resident. 

• can't find my white ceramic quarter plate. 

• morning schedule is out of whack. I wake up early and fix breakfast and pack lunch and go to sleep again, cuz my body feels exhausted from no sleep, and then I wake up after eight which feels miserable. 

• the new reed diffusers I bought are no good. They evaporated before you could say lo! And now I'm going to make some of my own because I'm pissed at these shop bought ones 

• for all the hate I possess for IKEA, I really need to go there and buy a couple of essentials for home, and then I can go back to hating on it. (But goddamit I do hate IKEA. I'll put a more detailed post on that) 

• I feel like eating 'haldiram's bhujiya'. In fact I feel like eating two packets. 

• I've been barred from my anime torrents account because my download ratio is more than my upload ratio, and I've to increase the latter ratio to gain access again. Jeez, this irks me no end

• finding a wet bath towel hung on a dining chair. EVERYDAY! 

• constantly running out of meal ideas, not a good sign considering I've got to cook everyday. 

• dead torrent sites

It's a bottomless list, and there's more..there's always more. 

uninspiration

Just one of those days when you're creatively bankrupt..sigh.

--
I'd started with a story, and deleted once I was done with the first five lines. It's been a longish infertile spell, and should it continue a few more days, I know it'd leave me depressed.

I have pace walked, talked to walls, opened the door a hundred times looking for the cat..and it's not worked.
The cat hasn't strutted in, the words haven't trampled in and I'm left feeling blank. so blank.

--

dreamt of driving at night and getting into a major accident. The kind that leaves you pinned between the wheel and seat. It woke me up with a ferocious jolt, and the song 'sexy back' playing in my head.

--

today was promising, but not innovative.
I hate second guessing and questioning myself so much, but at the same time I don't want to come up with something banal, predictable or repetitive.
ugh.

Suicide blah and movie rants

Suicide squad is a really shite movie. 

Like what the fuck is even going on? All that jazz about Jared Leto's method acting had me believe like he was the second coming of joker Jesus, and damn, was he hardly even in the movie. 

It's so bad that it's not even good. Like it's just the very worst kind of bad that can't be redeemed. 

Also, it's boring. :( the plot isn't all that, in fact it isn't anything at all, the acting is pretty meh and one wonders if the editing and story writing were done on an iPhone, the same as this post.  

I think they used up all the fun parts in the trailers, and even those weren't as much fun in the movie. 

It was almost as exciting as meeting a flaccid member, when you're in heat. 

I'm so done, so completely done with marvel, DC, everything. 

They serve bejeweled barf on a silver platter, and all you gotta do is scarf it down..no more. 

It's impossible to take Thor seriously after the 'Thoreal' meme, batman is a joke with Ben Affleck, because something about him gives me a very 'husbandy' vibe, and ugh to that.

Avengers, Dr. Fag, superman etc have started to feel like cosplay theatres. 

Maybe I've just grown up, and watching costumed people in a series of CG action  and devastation kind of pissess instead of entertaining. 

What's more, I hate that in each movie they build up to some colossal event, an important closure, only to water down its importance in the next sequel. 

Like all the hardships everyone went through to see something through in the first part doesn't really matter anymore, cuz the second part has some more pending stuff or whatever. 

Oh, fuck you. Fuck you all. 

The only seriously good, fabstatic, awesome, wonderful, brilliant superhero movie that was absolutely mind blowing and true to its heart and soul was 'Watchmen'. 

They didn't make a better superhero movie than that.

 No, not dark knight movies either. 

I mean 'Bane' couldn't stop fucking talking. Never has Bane ever been so damn talkative in Batman, but Chris Nolan couldn't seem to make him shut the fuck up. 

Why the fuck am I ranting about movies at this hour? 

Cuz I can't sleep. I'm sick, literally and figuratively.  

A bit of fever, a throat that feels like it's kissed acid, reverberating headache and the weirdest itch in some phantom location on my tongue. 

I can't sleep. Need to, but can't. 

Rrrrant

If you're ever stuck with a non adventurous companion on a fun trip, then you have my condolences. 

It's August, so of course it's hot. You gotta bear it and get on with your life, baring helps too, if you aren't afraid of tan lines. 

It's a holiday, for heavens sake. There's no option to stay cooped up in a hotel room and restrict your movements to only sticking your head out in the night, and even then it's balmy.

You gotta frolic, be hither and tither, out and about. Soak in the sun and everything that your surroundings have to offer. 

See things, walk a bit, click pics, instead of  making a beeline to every shade, shadow and shelter..chiming the same bloody mantra 'I will become black.'.

 So what? It's just a tan, it'll go away. 

Become black for once, who the fuck cares. 

Even dearest friends can be a pain in the asses and annoying to the core. 

'Would you like to eat this?'

-no 

'Would you like to drink this?'

-no

This?

-no

'That?'

-no 

-I'm afraid I don't like this taste. This smells so funny. This doesn't look good. It's too strange. I never tasted something like this before

Of course you didn't, that's why it's another country where you get to be a part of a different life, heritage, culture, people, food, language, values. 

If you wanted everything to be same and had to say 'No' to everything, then why pray did you travel all the way to another country, when you could've just as well stayed in the familiar sameness and said 'no' in your motherland. 

No Thai boxing (I'm a sad panda) but ok to Thai dancing. Thank heavens. 

So yeah Thai dance it is tonight. 

Disclaimer: this is just a rant. I love my darling friend to bits. 

Hollywood hogwash

The collective grey cells in Hollywood must have orgasmed into an ingenious fountain of unsurpassable surprise at the very news of something as flabbergasting and decisively innovative as a new KING KONG movie. Wow! it's not every day that a new king kong movie comes into existence.

Who could've ever thought of making a movie about a gargantuan gorilla, flashing his angry teeth at white people, and finally falling in love with a fair haired maiden who resembles his kind the same way we resemble our last universal ancestor. 
Hollywood transcends its visionary boundaries with each new kong movie. It's a prolific feat of inconceivable originality, to resurrect the same script from moth eaten grotto's of Hollywood existence, and add in new lines of decipherable dialogues, complete with brand new quotation marks.
Don't be surprised if they've gone as far as adding a paragraph or two of philosophical ruminations, about how we as a species are ruining the natural habitat of peaceful far away creatures that want nothing to do with meddling human affairs; that it's abhorrent on our part to colonize, and terrorize and forcefully invade natural spaces of other existences.
If you aren't shedding a tear or two at their formulation of such massive behemoth's of original thinking, then you're a monster, much like King Kong, and you deserve only the worst kinds of death; slowly stewed and roasted in the juices of your own making, getting tortured, seated in a movie hall, popcorn in hand, watching the new Kong movie.

GrrrRant

I want to write a poem, a story and continue on with writing new chapters of a book that's got much too intertwined with craziness.

My mind, however, feels blank these days. Seems like it's hibernating or gone into a hermetic trance. 

Like I've given myself up too wholeheartedly to the glorious mundane, to the point that it has permeated my veins and now throbs with my heart in unison. 

Has gotta be a way around it. Just been so ferociously displeased, erratically moody and irritated. 

There are too many reasons, truth be told. 

In fact there's one headlining reason, the others are just minor bullet points. 

Ugh. Also, life's getting in the way of alter cosmos; spending time alone with my thoughts fertilized my farms of fantasy, but all I've got now is a cotton-mouth island of insipid inspirations.

Perhaps I could alliterate myself out of this. 

Not likely though. 

Is it because I'm seriously not sitting down to finish what I'd started? Because I've got too many things knocking about in my mind that make me so restless all the time? 

Perhaps I should begin by scratching out pending elements on my to do list, that can be easily accomplished. 

Like my food blog. All the shifting and the traveling has put updating it on a hold, I feel guilty just thinking about it. 

I'd resolved to update it every Wednesday and that's perhaps what I should do. Beginning this Wednesday. 

So on and so forth, I guess. 

Dipping your fingers in too many sauces and unable to discern the taste of even a single one.

Thankfully I'm not a lazy fuck, though god knows I've tried being one. If only I'd been lazy, my life would've been so much easier. Nothing to bother about, low on priorities, procrastinating like a baus, unconcerned, impervious to reality, blasé, callous and happy. 

Underlying reasons are many, chief among them is the fact that I'm disinclined to be content, that my expectations from life are dizzying, that I'm greedy and want to hog each dollop of every fragment of all the dimensions in existence, and, mon ami, it can get exhausting, exasperating; to the point of writing a rant. 

Food shows

Food shows have totally run out of ideas. 

Now a woman is cooking on the safari, in the middle of African jungles amidst elephants and wildlife. 

And what the fuck is she cooking? Same old shit! 

Reducing mushroom with soya sauce and vinegar..I mean I'td have really meant something if you'd cooked a meaty parasite out of an elephant's turd or a freshly dead fetus of a wildebeest..but no! What did you cook? Some avocado stuff!! I mean how do you get this stuff on a jungle safari? 

Her cooking set is more elaborate than a Michelin star kitchen. Basically it's the comforts of your plush kitchen with a wildlife backdrop..and sometimes an obligatory African local who'd cook up something authentic and interesting. 

The show in question is 'Sarah Graham's food safari' (?) 

In the world of ugh add another

Casting Scarlet Johannsen as Major Kusanagi is like casting Danny de Vito as superman.

The only person who can be major Kusanagi is Motoko herself. You can't replicate that anime perfection in live action. 

Motoko Kusanagi is 200 pounds of kickass prosthetic body perfection who commands Public security section 9 and is one of the most genius war machines ever. She's every awesome thing combined in a highly intelligent, well trained and capable body that's pure love. 

Stand alone complex 1& 2nd gig were sheer out of the world fuckballs amazing!! 

Kusanagi jumps off flying helicopters on building roofs, annihilates dozens of men with sheer battle tactics all on her own, brain hijacks people and even hacks eyes, slithers into consciousness through brain wave hack..I mean there's nothing she can't do! 

No one can be her except herself. An anime GITS movie would have been so much more welcome. 

G'day

We're so used to eating shit cakes that we actually look forward to it. 

Our collective benchmark as a country has been so lowered in everything that we're fine with the worst of services, worst living standards worst everything..to the point that even our appreciation for standard of humour is hitting rock bottom. 

We are apparently okay with the worst of worst and since we're okay with that no one gives a fuck to actually take the initiative to improve their worsening lot. 

So the worst stays in static, to the point that it evolves to become a part of our existing Eco system and we are okay with that too cuz seriously who really gives a fuck? And then that shit stays in our Eco system and we evolve to not bother and in fact like whatever shit it gives us. 

Who the fuck wants to take an effort man? 

Whoever wants to get their work done has to wade through this quagmire of no fucks and achieve whatever small daily goals in their life or a task set out for that day might be. 

It's like let me do nothing and pay me still cuz who wants to work man? 

To hell with all! 

The weather forecast is scalding solar flares of wishful longing with a possibility of balmy evening breeze of cheerful soul mocking. 

Dr. Strange not so strange

Just watched the teaser trailer of the upcoming movie Dr. strange and looks like 'Inception' swallowed 'Matrix' and took a huge dump in a big budget jade toilet of tired cinema. I mean what was going on? And why is Tilda Swinton looking like white Morpheus doing a shitty imitation of that bald kid from the last airbender?

Yeah ok Marvel is coming up with yet another gazillion dollar money churner which looks like a garbled mash of undigested chutney. 

It's the same routine with glitzier graphics and that's about it. Even the costumes look recycled. Long flowing capes..Chinese cultural revolution garbs but with an upscale luxurious modern ivory glint..like they'd been spun by artisan monks of Tibetan monasteries who used silk worms that fed on organic mulberry fertilized with God poop.

Man this whole thing needs a reboot. It feels like layers upon layers of the same old same old, and now we need something to revolutionize the way these superhero movies look and feel. 

It's started to grow stale and the plots are beginning to rot. What plot? There's never any change. Self doubt and then enlightenment.

A few losses followed by a spectacular win. 

Death and rebirth. 

It's dr. Strange for heavens sake, not dr. Routine movie fixings of salvaged edits of similar movie drafts. 

I'm so done with this shit! 

 

aargh audiobook 401

I just have a moment to carve these words before I pick up my machete and go on a hunting spree and find the sadist who didn't upload the last two chapters of the audiobook 'the blade itself' by Joe Abercrombie.
I mean here I am, sketching away like penance, listening to the wonder that is this fabulous book, and lo! it abruptly ends on me..and I'm like wha?
This isn't done. Come on. I need to know what happened. The last two chapters..come on. Someone..anyone.
I can't find it anywhere, not on youtube considering I was listening to this book on youtube. Can't find it. Nope. Not even on audiobbokbay, cuz in fact even the chapters are amiss on that site too.

SOBS.