Pop Goes The Ego

I think my recent blogs and blog comments have pushed me into scalding hot water once again. It has been confirmed that my name was dragged through some dirt, stomped on, then promptly placed on two hit-lists. Regrettably, none of those lists have anything to do with music or x-rated movies. The first list was generated by an underground women's organization of male-bashers and Ninja assassins called Pop Goes The Ego (PGTE). The other food-stained list was seen hanging next to a male-approved-photo of Miss Mini at a pub, and signed by members of the notorious, grossly disorganized, and typically clueless all-male organization known as (no, not “Pop It,” thought that might be appropriate) “Sleaze Ball,” or “Sleazy Balls,” as PGTE affectionately refers to them. One side thinks I am scum and the other side thinks I am dirt, so now I feel I am part of a laundry detergent ad.

All this attention has me terrified, as any good bloger should be. Unlike Bond, the ability to stay calm while holding a pretty girl during a crisis is not my cup of tea. I don’t know how many of you have picked it up, but Bond holding a pretty girl was the real crisis and not the nuclear bomb set to go off in 30 seconds. Apparently, Bond’s bomb always goes off in 30 seconds or less and after it goes off there would be very little action. Super slow motion was used but that had limited effect. Exactly what I am going to be hit with, how often, when, and where is still not known. I suppose the where part should be obvious but the rest remains a mystery. I complained to the International Blogers Union but there was a foul smell in the air as they simply laughed in my face and hung up; a feat which is very difficult to do by phone but yet they managed.

Not only have my recent blogs been cited as the cause of my demise, but one of the older ones:

Yes, This One

to be continued.........??

p.s. There is SOMETHING NEW FROM KRISTA-LEE BISSOON . She has moved on from being The Google Girl, to something emotionally honest and equally entertaining. Check it out, but only after you are through with this blog :)

The Fall of a Bloger - aka: Aka

The famous and very revealing reporter, Mini Skirt, decided to interview the now infamous bloger, Aka, in an effort to find out why he has become what he has become. She decided to get down to the bottom of it all, as you will soon see, if you haven't already seen.

Mini: aka, I will get right down to it, people have been complaining that you are very full of yourself and sometimes crude and rude in your blogs and blog comments. Is that true?

Aka: I suppose it is true that people have been complaining and a blogers has a right to complain about perceived injustices and poor blogs.

Mini: What I meant to say aka was “is it true you have been crude and rude in your comments and your blog”?

Aka: I believe the question mark above should have been placed inside the inverted commas, right after the word “blog.”

Mini: You didn’t answer my question.

Aka: Of course I will spend the night with you in Barbados once you wear that micro-bikini again, or not wear it for that matter.

Mini: That is what I mean aka, you make a mockery of blogs by adding these pathetic and rude comments, which can make most of us very uncomfortable.

Aka: What am I now, a comfort zone? I always felt those micro-bikinis are a bit on the uncomfortable side but I don’t think their designers had comfort in mind when they were conceptualized. To answer your question about rude and pathetic blogs, I would say you are right and that’s just me at times.

Mini: Are you starving for attention or simply just have a huge ego?

Aka: Now, now, Mini look who is being rude and crude. Ha, ha, ha.

Mini: Such a hideous and sarcastic laugh! Get serious aka, you very well know what I mean by ego. You seem starved for attention and will do anything so that people will notice you. You think you are clever, amusing, charming, cultured and good looking. Why don’t you write something meaningful about life, or the smelter at Chatam? I think you are a very sad man aka, very, very sad.

Aka: I don’t know if to hang my head and cry or comment on your hemline slowly creeping up to the promise land. I much prefer the promise land thing though.

Mini: Aka, I believe there are men with very little hope in this world and you are one of them. Why don’t you see the folly of your ways and grow up. Life isn’t about fun and games, and creeping hemlines.

Aka: But I beg to differ. Life is to be enjoyed and I have spent too many years in my shell so now I am coming out of it in the form of a blog.

Mini: Shell? Are you some kind of turtle, a Ninja turtle perhaps!

Aka: One of my best friends reminded me about Ninja Turtles recently and it was good to remember.

Mini: Aka, there are reports that some blogers plan to protest your blogs and comments by burning tires on the connections leading to your blog. What do you have to say to that?

Aka: I would recommend they use Dunlop tires since it produces more and fouler smelling smoke. I think tire-burning is being perfected in this country and I also understand the University is planning to offer night classes in “Tire Burning and Road Blocking” but you have to bring your own tires.

Mini: Aka, you are either missing my point, being dumb, or being evasive again. People are appalled by your blogs and comments, and have decided to show their disapproval. Aren’t you the least bit concerned the protest will mushroom into violence and the defacing of your blogs?

Aka: Yes.

Mini: Yes what?

Aka: Yes Miss.

Mini: Be serious aka, your blog world is coming apart and you sit here like Nero, fiddling while Rome burns.

Aka: Oh my god, is Rome burning again? Was it tires this time?

Mini: Aka, you are beyond hope and redemption. I think you are pathetic and not fit to blog. I will recommend they take away your blogers license and be taught a lesson you will never forget!

Aka: I also would never forget that lesson you taught me while you did that lap dance. You nearly broke my…..

Mini: Enough Aka! People, including me, are becoming most fed up with your antics.

Aka: Sitting on a man’s ego is now called an antic? How quaint but painful. Shelly, I must admit you do paint this world in a very dim light.

Mini: I am not Shelly I am Mini. Shelly is the other one on CNC 3.

Aka: Sorry, you sound so much like her. Anyway, I think I must defend myself since, as you put it, my blog world is coming apart, but I don’t know what to say. In the world of blogging we can say things that we won’t say in real life. I would say bloging brings out the worst in me and that is my best. Some say I am confusing, some say I am confused. Both are right I guess. I would be the first to admit my mind is sane and enjoys life in many ways. I enjoy bloging and I also enjoy people not reading my blogs. I enjoy shouting in the middle of the forest so no one can hear. I also enjoy a little tire smoke and old cars dragged across the roadway. Life to me has now become several little things sewn together like a quilt. You can’t have a complete life unless you made a few little mistakes and no big ones. I think I am never what people expect unless they expect nothing. I am happy being me and I don’t even know how to put that in blog form. I can’t say if life is good or not because that would depend on if your car overheated this morning or the construction of the smelter has begun. That would also depend on if someone read and liked your poem, or if someone commented on your blog. There are so many things which affect life I would say it is neither good nor bad. I would say life simply is.

Mini: I hope you realized that you just spewed a whole heap of garbage again.

Aka: What’s one woman’s garbage is another woman’s treasure.

Mini: Here we go again.

Remember, Remember The Fifth of November

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

V for Vendetta is much more than another feel good "Let's blow up Parliament" movie. It's not the Matrix Part Four or a color version of Sin City. And despite the rumors you might have heard, the highlight of the movie for me was not the young South American shaped girl with low rider jeans passing up and down in front of me, occasionally brushing her... ...legs against my knees. No, that was not the highlight. It (the brushing) was highly entertaining and pleasantly distracting, but it was not the highlight. Though it(the movie) was quite entertaining, it was much more than bits and pieces of clever dialog punctuated by diabolical action sequences. This movie made a statement about the state of the World and one likely cure if governments forget their true purpose and don't stop screwing the people.

I never understood why people would describe something in terms of its components when it was designed to be used or enjoyed as a whole. People often review equipment, movies, books and low riding jeans in terms of two general categories what I liked and what I didn't care for. They almost always list these care for and don't care for items in bullet form for easy reading. The better reviews also put up photographs of low riding jeans viewed from every enjoyable angle. Today I will abandon tradition and use words to describe a movie which is too good for words and reviews.

To give you an insight as to the plot I will quote these words from the main character in the movie, V:

V: People should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people.

It is a movie which some would say supports terrorism as a way to solve the problem of evil, oppressive and obsessive governments. The phrase "Remember, remember, the fifth of November" haunted the viewer throughout and it left the audience with a feeling of satisfaction up to the very end. V for Vendetta says that some governments are made up of ruthless, selfish people who use lies, deception, and fear to manipulate and control the citizens. The movie points out that there will come a time when the public will say they have had enough and a leader, called a terrorist by the government, will emerge to help take back the country from the evil, self serving government. I don't see terrorism as an issue in the movie but I do see evil, oppressive governments as the main one.

I would say the Wachowski brothers of The Matrix fame made another excellent movie which cannot be analyzed into its components because everything fits so well together it would be impossible to take it apart. At the end of the movie I was overwhelmed with the feeling to blow up a building while listening to Tchaikovsky 1812 Overture booming away on an iPod.

A traitor to the Government can be a hero to the people. ~ another V

Con-flum-mox-ed - No Laughing Matter

He said: What movie do you want to see?

She said: Anything, it doesn't matter.

He said: Ok, let's see Hostel.

She said: No, not that, it's scary.

He said: I thought you said anything.

She said: Yes, anything but I don't want to see a scary movie.

He said: Walk The Line then.

She said: No, not that, it's too country musicish.

He said: Fire Wall?

She said: It's Firewall and no, too teckie.

He said: Memoirs of a Geisha?

She said: Read the book already.

He said: Good vibrations?

She said: Never heard about that, is it a Disney movie?

He said: Ahem! I don't think so. I am seeing three x's next to it and a duck, but I don't think it's Donald.

She said: Get serious, it's the middle of the week!

He said: I am serious and I thought you said anything.

She said: Yes, yes, anything I am in the mood to see. Why are you turning red again?

He said: Do you know the meaning of the word "anything?"

She said: Yes I do and I am beginning to understand that you don't.

He said: Now I am conflummoxrd.

She said: I thought we agreed you would not use that word anymore until the true meaning was sorted out.

He said: But I can't wait on the Oxford people forever. They are currently studying it and wrote back saying they were Conflummoxrd.

She said: A likely story. I bet the Oxfordians are men.

He said: Two men actually, James Conflummoxed and his brother Jessy.

She said: No wonder they are Conflummoxed. How do you pronounce it.

He said: Con-flum-mox-ed. It's a very sophisticated sounding word, almost like a serious medical condition.

She said: Is there a cure?

He said: Not yet but I am sure a breakthrough is eminent.

She said: Don't you mean imminent?

He said: Can't a cure be both eminent and imminent?

She said: If it's a cure for Conflummoxed I suppose it can be both. What are the symptoms?

He said: A chronic case of infrequent, pathetic and meaningless blogs.

She said: Like this one then?

He said: I am afraid so.

Moments of Deep Hysteria

“One always writes comedy at the moment of deepest hysteria.” ~ V. S. Naipaul

I always thought this but Naipaul wrote it - it's no wonder he is so good.

That one quotation sums up my Blog - I am a deeply hysterical man.

When ah Bandit Calls

A bandit suddenly pulls out a gun and points it at a man coming out of his car on a lonely road.

Bandit: Get out ah the car, this is ah holdup!!

Victim: What? Doe shoot mih, ah begging yuh!

Bandit: Give mih yuh wallet!

Victim: Here, take it but leave me alone!

Bandit: Wat dat is in de back seat?

Victim: A laptop, doe take dat, it wouldn’t be of any use to you. Ah have all mih file in it.

Bandit: Why, because I is ah bandit yuh feel ah doe know how to use ah laptop? Yuh feel I is a chupidy? Yuh think I ain’t go noe about files. Sir, in prison is only files we does think about. How yuh think ah reach here? Is ah file ah use to cut mih way out yes. You telling me about files!! Look, ketch yuh self yes.

Victim: Leave me with something nah. Leave the laptop alone!

Bandit: You talking too much, yuh is ah big man. Get a grip and get in the trunk!

Victim: Ok, ok, take the laptop!

Bandit: Ah not asking permission yuh know breds! Nah, ah change mih mind, ah just upgrade the crime to ah kidnapping.

Victim: What you mean upgrade the crime! Yuh say it was hold up!

Bandit: So ah bandit cah change he mind? Look get in the dam trunk!

Victim: Yuh wasting yuh time, mih wife ain’t going to pay noe money fuh me.

Bandit: Looking at you ah doe blame she nah.

Victim: Wah yuh mean by that!

Bandit: Like yuh doe have ah mirror or wat. You forget who you talking too! Look at dis gun, see it! You look like one ah dem businessman who people does like to rob. You think is we alone is bandit. Every time yuh turn yuh back all yuh raising prices! Yuh think is we alone is bandit because we have gun? Nah, nah, you is ah bigger bandit! You does even take Linx!

Victim: Boss, is not me who raise prices, is inflation, and ah does take credit card too.

Bandit: Well sir, because of inflation, I have to upgrade this crime to a kidnapping with aggravation. You really aggravating me yes! Get in the trunk, NOW!

Victim: Ah have too much things in de trunk, ah cah fit dey nah.

Bandit: Boss, yuh so skinny yuh goe fit in ah 120Y glove compartment. Open de dam trunk!

Victim: Look, see for yourself.

Bandit: Jeeze, yuh is a mad man or wat? Yuh never clean dis trunk since yuh buy dis car, yuh doe go on de beach with it, yuh is ah psycho freak!

Victim: Nah, ah doe like beach too much.

Bandit: Yuh have any rope?

Victim: How long?

Bandit: About two or three feet nah, it a go take much to tie up yuh skinny tail. Big businessman like you an yuh never get tie up by a bandit before?

Victim: Yes, once at mih business place buh he use ah phone cord. New, new phone and he cut up the cord jus so.

Bandit: Man you look like trouble yes, gih mih de dam rope and leh me tie you up yes. Ah feel ah wasting mih time with you. Time is money in my line ah wuck.

The bandit ties up the skinny victim and leaves him at the side of the road. The bandit then drives away with the victim’s car, with laptop in the back seat and trunk still full with things to horrible to mention, even in this blog.

The Cringing Man and Other Tales of Woe

"When women speak, men cringe" is the popular saying from the perennial 10,000 B.C bestseller, "Surviving Women - A Caveman's Guide To Happiness and Sanity - Vol. 3." published by Baboon Press. Recent scientific studies done by the Men's Survival Institute and Strip Club has made a direct link between women's speech and men's apparent deafness and cringing. It has also suggested a theory to explain the sudden rise in mid-week strip club attendance and the Colombian strippers, but that will be the subject of another long awaited photo-blog.

The Institute discovered that most men have an attention span of almost 30 seconds to a woman's voice but a very small fraction of men mustered an amazing 45 second tolerance. The study also revealed that men's attention span dwindled to 5 seconds once they were roped and placed into captivity by a female. This ground breaking research showed the comprehension rate of men deciphering women's babble was half of a percent at best. However, The Institute surprisingly discovered that men's attention span at strip clubs and miss bikini contest was somewhere close to infinite, with male test subjects having to be dragged away, sedated, and in extreme cases, neutered.

p.s. this blog was inspired by a certain bloger who is quite unforgiving to aka so he has decided to take his chances and run :)

A Word or Two

I have to apologize to all those readers who find my blogs infrequent and funny if you look at it in a certain light and if you squint just enough. I have been occupied reading certain unnamed blogs of which there is one I cannot name. Also, I was recently bombarded by one email from someone, who will go unnamed for now, to have a tagboard installed on my blog. Thought I knew what a tagboard was I didn't know it by that name and in reality didn't even know it by any name. As you can see I managed to overcome my ignorance and have the shout-box (a word coined by another nameless bloger) installed. Please feel free to use it, or not free to use it.

The First Word

Since my entry into the world by the normal means used for entering the world, I have spent countless days wondering why something was given a certain name. One of these names I pondered over was the word spoon. I choose to go into spoon in this blog because if I were to go into the word fork I might offend some. Believe it or not, fork is an offensive word to some, especially if mispronounced correctly. How exactly these good folks ask for a fork at dinner time remains a mystery to me. I suppose they would be too afraid to ask so they would either do without or take one if they see it. To do without a fork is not acceptable to me but I was also brought up to ask politely for a fork, or even a lowly sopoon if I wanted one. I don't want to stray too far form the subject and get back to spoon and the possible origins of the word. The word spoon was more than likely an amalgamation of the words spud (potato) and noon (lunchtime) - you eat spuds at noon with a........Spoon.

The Second Word


The kiwifruit was originally known as the Chinese gooseberry but for some strange reason that name didn't have mass commercial appeal. Some also thought that the name may have been offensive to the Chinese so it was renamed kiwifruit. Apparently the Kiwis are not easily offended. This fruit is rich in many vitamins, minerals and fur on its skin. It is said to be quite tasty to those inclined to find it tasty. Apart from being a fruit, the kiwifruit has many other uses which has eluded me. I suppose it can be easily decorated to look like a Martian's head or to scare of attackers who are terrified by furry fruits. I am one of those people who cannot eat something which looks unattractive and for that reason don't eat kiwis. Outside, the kiwifruit looks like a sapodilla, but on the inside it looks like a kiwifruit.

Ask aka: 1

Dear aka,

I am glad that you finally listened to your fans and decided to host an advice column. I couldn't get an answer to a certain troubling issue and all my friends suggested I should ask aka, so here goes.

I decided to spring a few extra dollars on my wife and bought her a DVD player. I have to admit this was the best idea I have had in seven years and now she continually thanks me for it by using it all day and night. On receiving my generous gift she promptly went out and bought Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Vol 2, and urged me to look at it with her. She is particularly fond of the final scene in Vol. 2 where Bill meets his demise. I am a bit worried though since she has not been doing much of anything else since the DVD player arrived. I just don’t get it.

Bill

Dear Bill,

Maybe you don’t get it now but I am sure you will get it later. Women communicate in a very different way to men and recently they have been communicating through DVD movies such as Kill Bill, Buried Alive and Six Feet Under. I don’t think you have anything new to worry about since your faith was sealed long before the advent of the DVD.

aka

RIP Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13

RIP Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13

26th April 2003 - 11th February 2006

My car battery died today without warning. It was a sad moment for all in front the poultry depot when its final surge of cranking amps turned into a trickle as the Civic's starting motor failed to volunteer even a churn. Good Samaritans, in shock and disbelief, rushed from all around with jumper cables, spanners and suspect advice in hand, trying to revive the dieing lead-acid power house. But, at last, it was not to be as the voltmeter confirmed what we all had dreaded. The Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13 was no more.

Though I am deeply saddened by the sudden passing of my faithful battery, I am grateful he lived a long, fruitful, and energized life, never failing to crank even once until his sudden demise. He was nearly three battery years old, which is almost one hundred in human years. His cells were practically free of impurities since I fed him only the best in distilled water from the finest distillers in the country. His poles were always clean and coated with petroleum jelly as specified by his maker. Though he did have a negative pole, he was always positive in his duties.

His replacement cost a whooping $590.00 as the price of lead continues to rise to almost astronomical levels on the international market since 2001. There was no rebate to be had since he died well outside his warranty period of eighteen months. This made my sadness even sadder. But, say what, and as a notorious roadside mechanic once said, a battery's got to do want a battery's got to do, - life cranks on.

RIP Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13 and may your plates not pollute the soil and cause lead poisoning.

Fat Chance

The wind was cold by tropical standards and I shivered like all tropical people do, which is quite unsightly to the untrained eye. I started to look for the sun at around 5:45am, but when the first useful light appeared I knew the sunrise would be as bland as a politician on a door-to-door campaign. This prompted me to pack up the meager camera equipment and go back inside to enjoy what was now a room-temperature breakfast. Photographing a spectacular sunrises, or making an ordinary sunrise look spectacular, is all a matter of being at the right palace at the right time, understanding a bit about controlling the light exposure with the camera, and having a sturdy tripod along with two cans of anti-bandit spray in the cocked position. The point-and-shoot in Auto mode doesn’t quite cut it in the world of presentable photographs of sceneries. The day in the life of someone who is photo-minded and who needs to leave a visual legacy behind because he is not prone to making people happy with his visibility, is stressfully exciting at times. I have taken more photographs with my mind than with my camera, which proves to me that photography is mainly a mind thing, a learning to see something in nothing type of activity. Drawing is the art of seeing and so to is photography and Carnival.

Unfortunately, I have not been good at making people look real and exciting in my photographs and this made many people angry causing them to throw painted stones and bundles of dry grass at me. I think I don’t try hard enough, or have subjects who are accommodating when I try hard to accommodate. I am one who also believe all people can look good in photographs since I am into silhouettes and shadows. This, and my fear of painted stones, have me doubting if I will ever become a well-rounded photographer unless I continuously eat Hershey Bars for a few months. Since I don't care too much for sweets there is not even a fat chance of that happening.

AGWS

In an attempt of achieve developed country status and protect innocent gravel, Government has not only passed an OSHA bill, but has also deployed an Advanced Gravel Warning System (AGWS). This highly sophisticated and technologically advanced system is currently being used to abruptly warn gravel-oblivious drivers away from the heaps of gravel, and onto oncoming traffic. The system is said to be highly successful as very few gravel heaps were reported to be injured or scattered since the warning system was deployed.

The Music Sucks!

Legend has it that one morning a certain politician, who, like all politicians, was famous for pretending he cared about the people and for being rather arrogant though he was incredibly stupid; woke up, stretched, yawned, scratched here and there, then sleepily picked up the daily newspaper to look at the picture splashed across the front page. The picture showed an inconsolable and grieving Mother and Father at the funeral of their young son who was brutally murdered by bandits just a few nights ago. This bright and wonderful young man was a victim of an unprecedented crime-wave sweeping the country. It was a crime wave encouraged and fueled by the power-hungry, kick-back-ready, ego seeking, power-is-everything-people-mean-nothing, never-wrong, inhumane and evil politicians of this country.

This talented young man was what politicians like to call collateral damage, ah well, no big thing, or so what. It was not surprising to learn the first and only thought that came to this politician's mind was this will cost me more political mileage. There was no compassion, no sympathy, only feelings for himself and his political survival, and he was proud of these feelings. That is what politicians are famous for; useless souls, and destructive existence. But then, the evil and devious part of his brain, which is by far the most dominant part of every politician's brain, reminded the rest of his neurons and all of his soul, he had more than enough votes in the bag to maintain his status quo since his supporters see him as representing what they want.

People, regardless of who their political idol is, have developed a belief that the leader they choose should favor them at the expense of those who opposed their choice. What The Legend tried to desperately point out is that people get the type of politicians they deserve for he will be made from their wishes. If the chosen representative is heartless, arrogant, unkind, wicked, cruel, vindictive, and power-and-kick-back-hungry, then he is merely a reflection of his supporters. The situation gets even more hopeless when we realize the music is the same at all The Parties and the music sucks!

Add Vice For The New Year

It is 2006 and practically half the year is over. No, I am not a mad man, well at least two people think I am not but they are not very sane either. Anyway, as I was saying, half the year is over and not in terms of time. It's half over since all resolutions start to come apart during the first week in January and by the 10th of the month they are halfway gone. In mathematical terms it is expressed as the equation shown below, popularly known as the Failure Equation or The Why We Amount To Zero Equation.

Will Power * Resolutions = Outcome

Where Will Power quickly tends to Zero and Resolutions can be any number from One to Infinity. The Outcome, aka End Result, can be seen on bathroom scales, KFC shirt stains, empty beer bottles, bloodshot eyes, same shady friends, fat-filled cholesterol test results, mounds of dust on religious books, the obscenely low standard of blogging, and probably the amount of porn bookmarks on web browsers.

As a good friend told me on Ole-Years-Nite, I have no meaningful vices and vice-driven people find me annoying to be around. Naturally, I hung my head in shame while I puffed my cigar and guzzled my eight or twelfth beer for the night, while my free hand hung around a still unidentified female's neck for support. It was there and then I resolved to pick up at least one or two vices for the coming year since I had none. As if time didn't stand still, I quickly stumbled around my vice-riddled friends on the floor and asked the few conscious ones what were the more common vices among bright and handsome males like myself. As I suspected, they had no idea what a vice was and quickly dismissed my pleas. But, having placed my faith in Google and the better search engines in general, I was amazed and impressed at how much I was missing in life and why my life seemed so boring at times. With this new secret to life in hand I vowed that 2006 would be a vice-filled year.

Positions Vacant

The countries of this planet called Earth are on the lookout for budding politicians. The candidate must have the ambition to serve as back-bencher, government minister, member of the opposition, leader of the opposition, and even prime minister, president, pathetic senator (government, opposition and even independent) or any other useless, loathsome life form.

Suitable candidates must be able to lie, steal, hate, have no conscience, suffer from delusions of grandeur, think the world revolves around him or her, live for power, be unable to show or act with kindness, incite hate in their supporters for non-supporters, and must be functionally illiterate despite the level of education achieved by the prospective candidate. The ideal candidate must be able to not only hate non-supporters, but also victimize them at every opportunity. Naturally looks are not critical but the look of arrogance and cluelessness will go a long way in achieving success in this much sort after field by the brain-dead and facially challenged. Having the personality of a low-class sewer rat would also be a great asset.

If you are incompetent at everything you ever do and believe hate and arrogance is the answer, then this job is for you.

Tell Me

The more people become “religious” the more likely they are to hate. For many people, religion is the kick they need to boost their self-esteem and rise above the rest of a pathetic World according to them. These “religious” people are quite frightening in their baseless hate for particular groups and religions in society. I am not knocking religion and it’s purpose but I am knocking those who see themselves as superior begins based not on their ability to show universal compassion, but on their ability to show very selective compassion, if any. Tell me who you hate and I will tell you who you are.

a poor blog aka another fiasco

aka: Hello?

Mini: Is this aka?

aka: Yes, this is the aka speaking.

Mini: aka, this is Mini, Mini Skirt.

aka: Well hello Mini, Mini skirt, long time no speak.

Mini: It has been a while.

aka: So what’s up Short Hem?

Mini: I just got my new cell phone and decided to test it and couldn’t think of a better guinea pig than you.

aka: If I didn’t know better I would say you were meaning to offend.

Mini: aka, no one could ever offend you.

aka: Glad you remembered.

Mini: How could I forget, I nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to offend you.

aka: Short skirts are never offensive unless accompanied by unshaven legs.

Mini: Sheesh!!! I should have known better!

aka: Is there another reason for this conversation besides you suffering form cellularitis?

Mini: You haven’t changed one bit; you are still the same obnoxious aka.

aka: Thanks, so as I was saying, what else is the reason for you using up your minutes with my time?

Mini: Well aka, I was reading your blogs recently and I have to admit I wasn’t impressed.

aka: I am not impressed with your reading ability either but there are classes which you can take. Even you can benefit.

Mini: Get-a-life aka, I mean I wasn’t impressed with what you were writing. It just so-so.

aka: It’s just so-so not It just so-so. You really need more remedial classes.

Mini: Pardon my French, but you are avoiding the issue.

aka: You are barely surviving the English and now you want to take on the French...... If we were having this conversation face to hem line I would not be avoiding The Issue.

Mini: Aka, is your mind straying into the gutter again? You seem incapable of having a sensible conversation. Just tell me what has caused your recent spate of poor blogging?

aka: You seem to strive with my mind in your gutter but since you asked I will reply. I cannot say exactly why the poor blogging because I don’t know exactly why. What most people fail to realize is that we all make blogging choices and we have to live with those choices for the rest of our lives. It could be a case of blog pressure. The way I see it is when we are dead and hopefully gone, what we would have left behind are our deeds and our blogs. If they were any good then they will bear fruit, if not then obviously more fertilizer was needed.

Mini: If I understand you correctly, you mean you are all out of fertilizer.

aka: To put it in simple layman terms, yes, but this conversation seems to be inspiring more fertilizer than you could ever imagine.

Mini: You always seem so full of it, who would have thought.

aka: Don't write me off yet my dear short-skirt, I am still very fertile.

Mini: Oh, I get it, fertilizer comes from the word fertile.

aka: Yes, one can say it's the root word.

......the end, or something like that

Stranger Than Fiction

Mission:
To find evidence to prove the world is a strange place.

Method:
I did a check to see if there were people as strange as I am out there in the nearly once civilized world. I wanted to register a strange name website and came up with the fact that there are people out there who are no only as strange as me, but strange before me.

These are all registered domains. They may not be operating web sites but they certainly are owned by strangers:

www.lookatme.com
www.areyoustupid.com
www.whome.com
www.yesyou.com
www.isitreal.com
www.yesitsreal.com
www.canitouchit.com
www.notthistime.com
www.ohbrother.com
www.leavemealone.com
www.smellyfeet.com
www.fingerfungus.com
www.myheadhurts.com
www.myballsitch.com
www.sosmall.com
www.wearandtear.com
www.goodgrief.com
www.theend. com