The hopeless, and once Almighty England decided to ask Almighty God to help them win their crucial match against Trinidad and Tobago, but God, not being one for favoring one country over another for ethical reasons, especially in the World Cup, firmly declined.
Hair-goal, hair-goal cried the proud and lackluster English, as they pulled their way through to the second round of FIFA World Cup 2006!
Being a lone crusader in this battle for the unified and equal treatment of words, I suggest steakholder also becomes a word. The word steakholder will mean someone who is holding a steak. Simple and precise is the way of The English Language, and clearly, steakholder is a step in that elusive, but right direction.
Help stamp out word discrimination and visit:
Clearly, without seeing the words written, you can tell which word is which, and in every example. I rest my case.
Stakeholders can be people, but so to can steakholders.
The best conversations I have are the ones that take place with sales attendants in bookstores. It's the one place I can go, mention a book, and people don't look at me as if I am mad. Did I mention the fact that the best conversations I have are with female sales attendants at these bookstores? I should have because that might be the point of this blog, or totally pointless to any blog. Let's see.
I think an average looking girl can appear much more attractive to me if she is smart. Not a smart aleck, but an intelligent female who looks good in tight jeans. Not straying from the topic, but when I say tight I don't mean vulgar-tight but daintily tight. Yes, there is a distinction between the two levels of tightness, and I prefer level-one tightness - for jeans that is. Level-two does have its appeal, and it all boils down, or up, to personal taste. Some guys are blown away by level-two, and can even briefly lose consciousness on the first sighting. As someone once said, it all depends on how the package is wrapped. That last statement reeks of male sexism, but I first heard it from a liberated female with intense male bashing tendencies.
It would be impossible to write an essay on nonsense without mentioning Mr. James Bond from the UK. I, like much of the movie going population, am not a big fan of Mr. Bond or even his gadgets. Some women seem delighted by his gadget(s) but those would be the gadget minded females of our planet. I am however a big fan of the pseudo-intellectual Bond beauties, who are not afraid to reveal their true shape to PG audiences, and who only know English as a second or third language, if any language. These exotic and erotic beauties radiate a raw sexiness via various body parts, while cracking complex Russian codes, or hacking into Cray type supercomputers in order to save the world before the movie ends. Their reward is a night with the gadget-toting Mr. Bond, who remains calm while excitement lap dances the audience into a frenzy. These erotic beauties normally don’t go very far in the movie business, and usually end up as posters in the rooms of deprived men and boys. We (men and boys) envy Bond and his ability to charm the pants, or pull the bikini strings off most exotic beauties in full view of vivid imiginations.
Yes, I have strayed too much and I need to regroup, and try to remember what my point was. I think I remember. I am one of those guys who are turned on by a brain with a body (sexist statement). Failing the right mix of the two ingredients, then I will have to give in to instinct and go with the jeans, which wraps the body to perfection, or a skirt, which cleverly but clearly implies where the treasure is. I think this blog is probably nonsensical, and appears for no reason other than I started to type, and this is what popped out.
p.s. This blog was done in h.s format - the quote intros :)The worst devastation was in the town of Bantul, which accounted for three-quarters of the deaths. One man dug his 5-year-old daughter out of the rubble of her bedroom only to have her die in a hospital awaiting treatment with hundreds of others.
"Her last words were 'Daddy, Daddy,'" said Poniran, who like many Indonesians uses only one name.
"I have to start my life from zero again." said Poniran's father.
Long before men controlled their sticks and flicked their BICs, the Sun wasn’t the Sun but a lonely ball of highly flammable gas aimlessly floating around the Solar System, oblivious as to what Solar or flammable meant, or even to the benefits of rotating car tires. Since there was no Sun, the Earth was a dark and cold place, much like how it is today except happier. The gas ball was actually called "The Lonely Flammable Gas Ball" and not "The Sun," contrary to what the history books and daily newspapers might have said at the time.This aggravated spark bobbed and weaved across the Universe, skillfully avoided principles of physics, asteroids and film crews shooting yet another retroactive episode of Star Wars, and landed in, of all places, a no-smoking zone on the "The Lonely Flammable Gas Ball.” This caused what is now popularly know as The Spark and Gas Fiasco , aka: Here Comes The Sun. This created not only the sunrise, the daytime soap opera and the sunny-side-up egg, but also the need for sunglasses, sun block, tan lines, nude beaches, and daytime fragrances. It also caused nightclubs to have shorter opening hours and probably shorter skirts, which triggered pleasant daydreams, even at night. The rest is Solar System History and this blog.
With and estimated 1.3 billion dollars invested in Trinidad and Tobago, along with probably hundreds of thousands of skilled man-hours in planning and implementation, you would have expected Digicel to be blowing away the competition. This is not even close to happening if I am to judge by how empty their scores of stores (that rhymes) are and how so few people I know actually have a Digicel phone - I know of only one so far. I have a feeling Digicel expected to be successful simply because they thought people were unhappy with bmobile and liked free red tee shirts. For their investment sake, I hope this was not the case. "More customer service" is a good catch phrase but without customers it remains only a phrase.
My five experiences with Digicel were all bad since they seem to only be selling these scarce phones to friends. The Trini culture of "contact" to get anything might be the way these stores prefer to conduct business. I am sure the novelty of The Red has now worn off and I think Digicel has missed, not only the boat, but also the entire ocean. I, like many frustrated and fed up people, will not be begging Digicel to pay for a service anytime in the near future because customers don't beg to pay when there is a competitor available, even if that competitor is bmobile. We are not that desperate. Any cell-phone company hoping to compete, and which cannot anticipate or cater for the public needs, must be headed for failure. A superior network is all well and good, but you need customers to use it, otherwise it would be like the proverbial tree falling in the woods with no one to hear it fall. Sadly, I have to say, being red now looks like being dead.
update (11-05-2006): If this were not true it would be very funny. I was told today that Digicel (or one of its franchise holders - same thing really) in Grand Bazaar now has phones but they cannot sell any. This amazing hi-tech company cannot do any activations because they have no paper and customer-hopefuls should return in a few hours. Yes, that's correct, no paper is what I understand they are telling potential customers. When probed further the sales attendants are saying they have no paper to photocopy something or the other. I imagine Denis O'Brien would be pleased. So much for more customer service. All this from a company without a customer base and is proposing to be the leaders in the cellular market. That's a joke. I would throw a big party if I were the folks at bmobile. Apparently the stupidity continues, only better than before.
update (15-05-2006): Today, on page 25 of the Guardian, Digicel has a 3/4 page advertisement saying their rate, until the 15th June, is now 3 cents a minute after the first three minutes. On page 26 of the Guardian, bmobile has a full-page ad saying their rate is now 25 cents a minute after the first three minutes. There is no cut-off date for the bmobile rate. These rates apply to Red to Red and Green to Green - you know what I mean.
I assume the war between the Red and the Green will continue until they both have achieved some level of stability. I am still without a Digicel phone and as tempting as the 3 cents offer is, I won't do this at the expense of my customer-pride.
Aka decided to share his blog-life with the public so he once again agreed to having Mini.....conduct an interview. This is what never happened.
Peaceful, Discreet, Non Aggressive
You are easy-going yet discreet. You make friends effortlessly, yet enjoy your privacy and independence. You like to get away from it all and be alone from time to time to contemplate the meaning of life and enjoy yourself. You need space, so you escape to beautiful hideaways, but you are not a loner. You are at peace with yourself and the world, and you appreciate life and what this world has to offer.
The cell phone phenomenon is no longer a phenomenon but a new way of life, and a new excuse for accidentally running over people and into electricity poles. It is also a new way of being rude and a certainly an extra special way of disposing of our income. It is also an easy way of staying in touch with those you don't want to stay in touch with, such as insurance agents and the owner of the green BMW you scratched in the car park at Movietowne last Wednesday at around 9:25 pm, while desperately trying to make eye-contact with a girl in an extra short skirt, but failed because your eyes never made it past her……legs. Yes, men do scratch cars but only for good reason. Let me continue. The world is getting smaller every day but does it have to get so small so fast. I liked the way it was, distant and unreachable. The Internet has made distance irrelevant but fiber cables necessary. The cell phone has made large countries small and caused tropical islands to replace coconut trees with cell towers and green balloons. Our landscape is changing but we are happy and connected. The way the world works is like this; all luxuries becomes necessities, all necessities become conveniences, and all conveniences become inconvenient, especially when there is no signal. A classic example is fire. When fire was first invented by a caveman rubbing his sticks, it was a luxury enjoyed only by the upper-class cave dweller with someone to help him rub his sticks. In a few short years the fire business was booming as cave-women learnt how to light a cave-man’s fire simply by looking at his sticks. Then the inconvenience set in as cave-women grew to understand the power of the flame and cave-men grew addicted to it. The rest is painful history.
The magic is in the flame, not the stick.
The Unknown Cave-man
This bush fire started on the Pine Trail at Mt. St. Benedict yesterday evening, and raged well into the night. Thankfully the winds were low by evening time so the spread was contained. Like all bush fires it probably was manmade. In this country, once it's dry enough and it can burn, somebody will make sure it burns. Ironically, this fire took place next to a fire-watcher tower. It could have been worse but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Isn't this a crime against all the people?
“Floobletrix,” how that word has come back to haunt me like a bad haircut from a rude hairdresser in Curepe. Floobletrix was first coined by firebird in the shoutbox of a rather infamous blog by a rather good looking blooger (good looking in his mind that is). Floobletrix is no easy word to pronounce and an even harder word to say. Some say you have never lived until you Floobletrix in the back seat of a car or in the washroom of an airplane. My advice is “never believe anything you hear,” especially about Floobletrix, except what you will read in this blog. This Beach Called Life as been appointed the sole authority on Floobletrix by those who can do so solely.
Dying by accident is tragic, but can be doubly so if one dies in a compromising position on a vibrating bed in Bangkok while lying on an inflatable doll. Death is inevitable but, despite the aluminum smelter means death, it is not inevitable. Many years ago, Albert Einstein was asked if the Universe was infinite, to which he replied that he is not sure, but he is sure human stupidity is. There is now sufficient proof that this is still so as politicians continue to roam the planet, destroying everything in their path.