Wednesday 29 May 2013

The one night....

Like each night... I slept.
One time I woke up, but not entirely.

I took a walk outide and was bored. Saw a bank that said 24-hour banking.
I thought "I just don't have that much time".
So I went to the hardware store to buy some second hand paint to fill up my time. It was in the shape of a house, but not the shape I was looking for.
I remembered I needed some batteries too, so I bought that instead.
The batteries weren't included, so I had to buy them again.

Got back home and tried to open the house with my car keys. It started up the house.
Took a drive all across town sitting in my lounge. Ended up on the freeway and yelled at people "Get off from my drive way!"

I decided to move.Sped past a graveyard and figured, if I'm going to crash, I might as well do it here.
The graveyard was a tad loud and noisy. Probably because of all the coffin.

I ended up parking in a tree. A banana tree in fact.
I was so tired and drifted off, I realized I started to snore so I left. Didn't want to wake up the rest of the bunch.
Some gorillas came there as well. They couldn't sleep either. I always wondered why their nostrils were so big... probably because they have big fingers.
We had tea with three sugars.
In a cup.

Left my house in the tree. Thought it would be nice to have a banana tree house on safari.

Across from the road I saw a speed reading contest. I entered but ended up in the hospital as I hit a bookmark and flew across the room.

No one visited except my shadow. Kept on telling me jokes I don't remember.
Feels a lot like amnesia and deja vu. I don't remember if I have forgotten this before.
But as far as I know, deja vu is an event that was so funny, The Big Guy above wanted to rewind it and play it again for his friends.

I decided it was enough and went home by using my house keys on a mercedez outside.
Went to my pc and logged in my penumbra-like fictional adventurous.

As I'm typing this I realize there is a dumbass between I and Y on the keyboard.
Wouldn't you agree that after (M)onday and (T)uesday even the week says WTF?



Just my little tribute:
When there is nothing left there is always Wright.;)

Tuesday 14 May 2013

Tales from the Crypt (aka clinic)

I had to visit a doctor last week in order for them to tell me I'm sick and give me a certificate; an achievement of some kind to prove that I'm not well.
"Well done! You've past Go, collect your 200 moola and pills!" ^_^

While I don't mind the wait (and that would be numerous hours), the conversation and atmosphere there is not ideal. It looked like an old people's club. A club where one could collect your pills and/or hobby material and then talk about the adventures of it.

"I had to take 78 pills yesterday. How many did you take?"
"Well, I put it all in a stew and ate one bowl. So I don't know"
"Hey, that's pretty clever, they should sell pill stews."
"Yep, I already have a shop open on Saturdays from all the excess pills I got each day at the clinic".
"How many times did you visit this week?"
"Well, each day of the week for each sickness. That's 12 days this week"
"oh..."

And clearly the madness persists for hours and I'm twitching on the bench trying not to absorb anything from the clinic whether it be old-timer's-disease, the odd conversations, and ANY air in fact!

Just some thought on the hours spent at the day clinic:
One would either become sick from sitting amidst 42 "odd" people coughing, babbling, or become mentally ill by being part of the new talk show: Pill talk.
Or one would actually be healthy at the end of the day because of the long hours you wait there and heal as you sit or one would force mind over matter just to get well and out...

The sad part is that I've visited a Nurse the first day as the doctors was a no show. Figures. And thank her as she actually did a good job! She said that if I don't feel well after the two days I was booked off for I should return (which was returned by a mental glare in my mind- the return to this place....) but I smiled and waved.
After two days I was back. Nothing changed and as sure as I am able to type this right now the very same people where there too!

The second visit I actually saw the doctor. Prime example of someone who bought their doctors degree for more than just a price. One of those Pick 'n Pay specials.
So I told her my case. Didn't listen and gave some pain pills and a packet of vitamin C.
Whoopie and wows! Gosh, I didn't know I had to use them! Ơ͡_Ơ͡
"Thanks a lot Doc! :D Now if you could just help me 'Out' I'd appreciate it. Where is the door?"

As citric as Vitamin C pills can be, that visit just left a nigh permanent sour taste in my mouth...

Friday 3 May 2013

Ankle High Pants

Baggy pants + underwear-flash trends...
yeah..........
(•͡_ •͡ ;;

Surely, clothing is made to keep you warm and your tidbits secret, but also it can be fashionable!
But darn it, I don't want to see your claddy ass keeping-it-together plumbers crack peeking out from the underwear line and making its mark "Killroy was here"
Especially the guys, learn some decency and class and pull up your pants.

Does it not feel uncomfortable? Drudging and dragging this pants when it always feels like its clinging by with that little muscle screaming "I'm macho! I can do this all day long!"

I sincerely doubt it.

But! My mind judges too quick...
They might have TB (tiny bladder) and hence this pants and ready to drop at any giving moment of thought (relaxing that little macho muscle).
Yes! I understand now, the youth have TB. :)

And walking... With that... Dreadfully loose hanging pants like its an unnoticed snot going for a bungee jump.

Human walking has previously been described as a series of controlled falling.
The way they walk is definitely not walking. That is not a series of controlled falls.
That's a standing slither!

I do have pants that can be worn baggy. In fact I have one on right now, but logic tells me that I need the correct waist measure (32;) and a belt.
I have two hands that is way too preoccupied to be lifting or adjust my pants every 5-20 seconds.

*sigh...

For those of you that do indeed wear baggy pants to your ankles and show the world your fancy spider-man boxer shorts, please feel free to rid the minds like mine of confusion who doesn't understand the comfort on that "fashion statement".

You'd do me a favor :)

Phonanormal Activity

Phones are a great device, but sometimes they have more intellect to take over a lesser mind and its friends.

One morning on a train ride I boarded the wrong carriage. Right in the means of having the correct ticket, but wrong as in I didn't want to be on that specific carriage!
I would rather have observed a preacher in security clothes doing all kinds of tiger styles and clapping his hands than to watch four friends being controlled by their phones.

Apparently two of them was boyfriend and girlfriend, as noticed them standing close and his arm around her (or maybe its a weird friendship where your finger traces the significant others shoulder blades). The other two was a friend and a work colleague no doubt.

Their "conversation" revolved around each one looking at their phone, read something on the phone screen and a premeditated laugh in unison takes place. "Huh huh huh... *trails off*"

Yesh! That's pure awesomeness! @_@

One reads a joke "Yo! Look here: He's so poor he writes bolony on his bread!"
They hear it and go "huh huh huh..."
Its not even fathomably laughable when standing next to them, but I guess for their minds it deserves a round of a LOL. Then the quiet proceeds again, stares at the phones...

As I'm observing these beings evolution produced us, they have another technique as well by "showing what's on their screen".
This technique happens when Fred is reading something aloud, but Bob can't make his find noticed, so Bob shows the phone to Biff, the least interested person in the story sung by Fred.
Bob has a smile, those ones in anticipation of a pre-planned laugh, while he shows his phone to Biff. Biff smiles then Bob goes "huh huh huh...". Biff does the same because its the "in" thing to do.
Two laugh, the other two, Fred and Carrey, gets inquisitive. Bob shows then in turn each what is one his phone. Same procedure each time. "Huh huh huh...".
At this time I'm pulling out what is left of my hair.

So what does this has to do with anything in life? Absolutely Bugbear-all!
Its a waste of time where one could actually have had a decent conversation and you might have learned something as well. Even find out more about a person or life for that matter!

I'm sure Fred, Biff, Carrey and Bob would have forgotten a certain person is so poor he only writes bolony on his sandwiches, as soon as they climb off the train in Cape Town.

-_-* frustrates the mind!

Thursday 2 May 2013

My problem with fairy tales

Sad to mention that my very first blog is about fairy tales....

So here's the problem with that. They always have a hidden agenda that we do not see as kids. Once we are older and wiser (and a bit more open-minded) one can clearly see some impish subliminal messages.

Does that in fact make us a tad different? What if those messages changed us to think as we grew up.

Two of my more favourite hidden messages, is in the stories of The Wizard of Oz and The Beauty and the Beast.


Wizard of Oz:

My issue is with Dorothy. She is the villian of the piece!
Do you remember how she got in the land of Oz? She mysteriously teleported in her "magical" farmhouse. Upon entering the world of Oz she killed the witch with the red slippers. Of course it was an accident. That side of her story I buy. But did she help the witch. No! She instead was a very vain person and was only interested in the now deceased witch's fancy red slippers! She took what wasn't hers and left the corpse to rot. No proper burial for her, no, she is just an ugly witch. bleh!

So she wanted to find her way back home and met some good friends along the way. And the deceased witch's sister "the wicked witch of the west" pursued her. Why do you ask? Because she wanted the slippers that Dorothy is now wearing. Is she trying to steal it? Of course not! She only wants her sister's red slippers back. It's a family thing you see. And what is wrong from avenging a family member? Sure the Wicked Witch of the West was an cackling old hag. She just loved to laugh, what's wrong with that? Do you know why she is the "wicked" witch? Because she throwed some wicked-ass parties back at her crib! It had magic shows to boot too. She was a wonder at children's parties as well.
So perhaps she went a bit overboard with sending flying monkeys after Dorothy but you must understand that she lost her sister recently and a thief took her sister's slippers. And she a bit senile too. Give her a break!

And to further prove that Dorothy was a shrewd vain person she let others believe that she "spilled" some "water" on the witch and she "melted". Yeah, right! Me thinks it was an acid concoction of Anthrax and Cianide.

So as kids we are taught via sublimal messages that it's okay to disrespect the dead, taking what does not belong to you (it's like taking a cellphone/wallet from a car crash), and spreading rumors about old ladies who like having parties. :(




The Beauty and the Beast:

Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?
It's not anything like a normal sickness like flu, having a few runny noses or a headache, no, it's a mental game where hostages fall in love with their captors.

It has happened before where a lady fell in love with her bank robber. She trusted him and later helped out by keeping her comrades hostage.

So my charge is that the Beast was indeed the bad guy.
Since her capture she felt pressured to do stuff against her will. Like cleaning the house and probably cleaning the beast's lavatory full of beast poot!
She once escaped to get back home but she was pursued by the beast. She was captured once again and her father too. I'm sure the beast saw some tasty pork in 'ol pops. He sure was a fatty inventor.

In her captivity she pleaded for her father's release and she would stay there forever. So how do you end up loving someone you keeps you prisoner?

Stockholm syndrome is the answer I say!

Eventually the town hero Gaston, although a macho fat head, came to her rescue. He was indeed a hero risking his life to fight the beast on the roof tops. Sure, now Gaston is the bad guy! He is trying to save another human from a big scary hairy fang-and-claw werewolf.

I bet if you dressed a Troll in fashionable clothing he too would be a good guy. No matter if he eats children and lives like a bum under a bridge. Some would say, "hey, I never wanted kids. The Troll did me a favour. Huzzah to the Troll, he is my saviour. And he dressed nicely :)" I guess one don't hear that often. So why would the beast be different. What does he really eat anyway? He has no farm, he doesn't go to the shops. Surely living there for years his pantry must've ran out of food.

So eventually the beast knocked out the "hero" Gaston and "saved" Belle from her true hero. It definitely sounds like a stern case of Stockholm syndrome.
Please call the psychologists to help Belle!

-Ant