Fuck you, and you and yes you too! No, not you

A rant by any other name is still a rant so if you’re not in the mood to read mine today then don’t pardon my French when tell you that you can royally fuck off!

To the brass tacks then..... I hate people who invite themselves over to my place, in fact I bloody well hate visitors in general. They never know when to leave and I have to sit there and laugh politely at their god-awful jokes while all the time formulating in my head the best way to skewer them then pit-roast them over an open fire. ( Of course this definitely excludes you T-baby and S-luv) But that was just a by the by.

So apparently I am a really bad communicator. Which is really ironic because when I applied for the torture that masquerades as higher education I ticked communication to the masses next to the little box that said choose course (apparently I also don’t do to well with fine print when I don’t have my glasses on). That having been declared, it then goes without saying that these phone gadgets are simply not my forte, especially when it comes to text messaging. I am sick and tired or people giving me grief about not answering their meaningless text messages.

Here’s the thing, when you send me an SMS and I don’t reply it, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t like you (Though I probably don’t) or that you’re an insignificant little twit who doesn’t mean shit to me (Though you probably are), it just means I simply couldn’t be bothered wasting my time typing words on a miniscule keypad taking care to omit the vowels in order to make sure there are only 160 characters. And in case you have a problem with that then by all means pick a number and join the queue because I hate to break it to you, you are not the only one! And if symptoms persist, form a tribunal and take it to the bloody Hague!

Soundtrack:

Golden - Jill Scott

Golden - Chrisette Michele

Bookshelve:

Knowing God – Deepak Chopra

On my wall:

Starry night - Vincent Van Gogh

My honest crap

Hear ye, hear ye oh wunnerfull blogren, that it has been agreed upon by all of you *I insist* represented by the lovelies Val, PinkM, Ourkid, Keikei and The blogger formerly known as Nzembi, that a scrap award for honesty shall be bestowed upon me (Cue thunderous applause here!)

(The dramatic tearful acceptance) *Bow, curtsey, bob and blow kisses* "Awww, you can stop clapping now, really... Shucks, I know it comes as no suprise because any trophy made of scrap metal rightfully belongs to me, but I'm quite touched ;-D

There were rules somewhere but I'll make like a matatu driver with traffic laws and forget that they ever existed.

Drums, check. Bass, check. Strings, check. Groove and funk, Check. Let's proceed shall we....

1. Floetry - Floetic

If only I was poetic! You see I fancy myself a wee bit of a poet, but it recently came to my attention that I'm as poetic as George Bush is intellectual (No pun not intended!) But it wasn't suprising really, seeing how at one point or another in my life I thought I was musical or artistic or even prophetic depending on how the wind blew. I even considered myself somwhat of a Sumo wrestler until I realised that the swallowed thongs and the flabby bellies really do not do justice to my skin tone :-D

3. Beyonce - If I were a boy

I'd mic check my dongle (yes PinkM I said dongle! Hehe) Make sure the portable wi-fi was in proper working order, then proceed to find THIS idiot and reciprocate the golden favour!!

4. D'angelo - Shit, damn, motherfucker

Okay, this one might be a wee bit TMI: Apparently I can't take a dump in a foreign environment. I shit you not! When I'm travelling for long I can sub-consciously constipate myself for up to two weeks until I get back home to my throne room, unless it's incase of an emergency, in that case.....

6. Raul midon - State of mind

After watching the matrix trilogy I figured that everything in life is a state of mind. Since then I've been trying to bend spoons with my mind and I've been waiting for a call or for someone to come up to me and ask me whether I want the red pill or the blue one. Neither has happened yet, but soon....So if perchance any of you see me staring at a spoon suspiciously.....

7. Bob Marley feat Erykah Badu - No more trouble

Of late I'm becoming quite the passive aggressive. Which is really messed up coz I get irrate easily, but I'm bottling it all up inside. I'm just afraid I might take it all out on some poor sod who steps on my foot accidentally one fateful morning. If that poor sod happens to be any of you I apologize in advance!

9. Common - Soulfood

I am picky eater. A reeeeeeally picky eater, like a five year old or a pregnant lady. I don't eat chilly, AT ALL!! (Not red ones or green ones or yellow ones or blue ones or curry or anything that can be considered remotely hot and spicy!!) I don't like experimenting with fancy stuff and I stay away from anything that is neon coloured. I don't like chocolate (Unless it's raffaelo's) or ice-cream (Unless it's peppemint with choc-chips) I go through phrases when I only want to eat a particular food like noodles or pies, depending on my mood. And I eat ice-cubes. Abnormally so. At least 2-3 trays a day without fail. I can wake up in the morning and have ice-cubes and milk and crunch away at it as if it's a cereal!

10. Brian Mcknight - Back at one

Calculus is not my forte so I'll assume I've reached ten.

Thankyou all for being such a lovely audience. *Mwaaah, mwaaah, mwaaah, and mwaaah to you too!!* (Cue exit track and curtain drop...)

Oh wait! (Running back to stage) I'd forgotten....

Role call: (The following bloggers please report to tag square at once!)

JustDes: You're not getting away that easily, chap chap, my latte is getting cold :-D
Tbaby: Blogging about kamasutra on your third post, tsk tsk!!
Smothyz: I know you're insane!! Really, an absolute nutter. But poetic too!

Errryone who's not done it yet!!

Psssst!!

Helllow blogosphere!! I'm still bundu's bashing but then I just spotted this fancy schmancy thingamafuzz called a computer and decided to have a go at it, and whadyuknow, a blog post is born :-D

Now, contrary to what Kei believes, I will not blog about how it felt being the only black person on location (Read - in the whole town!) and how it felt having people coming up and touching me just to make sure I'm real. (Apparently according to them black people only exist in myths and scary bedtime stories to keep children in check, the type that are along the lines of*If you go outside in the dark, the black people will come and eat you up*)

Neither will I blog about how everyone on set pronounces "Skate" as "Skeet" so there's a whole of "Skeet skeet skeet" going around the set.... Hypothetically, realistically, technically and practically.... Seriously!!

Or even about the dancing around palm trees in colorful attire, the trademark of all indian films.

Nope, none of you will hear a peep out of me about any of that, no siree, nada, nothing, zilch and all other derivates thereof!! .... Oh wait, Ooops, did I just tell you all of that already??! Dammit! Forget you just read that!!

In other news.... Who is Loco?! What floats her boat, turn's her sukuma wiki green, and recharges her chloride exide batteries?! There is a scrapbook going around that requires some amount of honesty which is honestly going to be a tad bit tricky for me since I lie about everything! Honestly, I do!! Watch this space..... (For more tips about watching this space kindly get in touch with Bomseh :-D

Errr.... Poetry??

I am
Weak
There
Said it
Just don't
Expect me
To show it.

The drunk post...

Dudes and dudettes!! It's been a while since I went drinking, actually, It's been quite a while since I got drunk and did s'mn stooopid!! Well, Tonight I did and now I am!!! So here's my 1.2.3. about being inebriated! When you attempt to prove your stamina by taking in copious amounts of alcohol and getting pretty much shitfaced, please remember the following:

Illusions:

- Ladies, the hot guy you're grinding up on won't be as hot when you wake up next to him tomorrow morning. DUHHH!
- Ladies (again) you don't look prettier when you're drunk, you only look prettier when THEY are drunk!
- Ladies (Ok, fuck it, I'm a female so most of this post is going to be pretty much Lady oriented!!) If you couldn't do the make-up right when you were sober then don't think you can do it right when you're wasted!! Yep, I hate to break it to ya, but they pretty much fucked you over when they made the mascara a wand and the eye pencil a pencil! Same case applies to dancing, sexy poses and such like!
- Gents the aforementioned procedures (applying make-up *If that's your thing*, dancing, looking sexy and PICK-UP LINES!!!) apply to you too!!

DONT'S:

- Drive when drunk!! (Trust me on this, those EABL adverts aren't pure bullshit, you WILL end up over a pavement *Ask me* or running into your best friend's bumper *Ask Des* I shit you not)
- Drink if you haven't eaten (Cardinal drinking rule #1)
- Mix your drinks, Beer is beer,whiskey is whiskey, wine is wine and so on and so forth (cardinal rule #2: If you do the results could be visibly disastrous - Yes, you'll puke your bloody guts out!!!)
- Hit on that hunk or hottie when you're smashed, you'll look like an utter idiot (Even though you probably are, we don't want that fact out there in the open, do we?)
- Send your Ex/ Current/ Could be/ Would be/ Shoulda been boyfriend/ girlfriend a text message. And no, you are not allowed to call them either!
-Blog when you're utterly pissed (You'll end up sounding somewhat like I do now and I'm pretty sure that's not what you want)

DO:

- Head straight home after your umpteenth glass of potent shit. You'll be glad you woke up in your own bed the next morning (Puke filled sheets notwithstanding!!)
- Blame it on the alcohol the next morning *Like I will tomorrow morning*

Soundtrack:
Happiness - Dead prez
Because I got high - Afroman
On and On - Erykah Badu

On my bookshelve:
Nothing

On my wall:
Some funky Afro-painting from Tazama Gallery with no name

Amazing Grace finale! Finally!!

Grace is spotted. "C'mere you slippery wench" A short chase ensues "Aaaaah, gotcha!!!"

You, yes YOU, you wouldn't have that confused look on your face if you'd been here an here....

SO where was I, oh yes, the cosmic forces of the universe were refusing to play fair with me and blah blah blah. Anyway, I'll hurry up and finish this cause by now y'all are probably bored shitless by this story right?

I got my coffee, it was sugarless and it burnt my tongue, Mr Bossman came to pick me up, I spilt coffee on his car seat (In my defense it was just a tiny spill and juggling hot coffee, a car door and a file isn't too easy!!) I also discovered that wearing 4 inch heels isn't such a great idea especially when your boss is already much shorter than you normally...

I did the interview, it went quite well akshually, all was forgiven and I lived happily ever after with Grace, Mercy, Hope, Patience and all their siblings as my housemates (The living quarters are getting wee bit cramped but who am I to complain?!)

The end!!

*Anyone thinking of reproducing this into a fairy tale should do a side bar with me to discuss copyright issues :-) *

Soundtrack:
Golden - Jill Scott
Sawasawa - Eric Wainaina
Get up - Amel Larrieux

On my bookshelve:
The constant gardener - John Le Carre

On my wall:
Woman weighing pearls - Vermeer

Amazing grace part 2!

What did I ever do to you grace?! Show thine damneth face!!

So if you're just catching up then start with part one.

Disclaimers:
- There pictures may or may not be loco, go figure!!
- Caution, graphic content!!

I get out of the taxi and the taxi man speeds off quick fast and in a hurry! Now you need to know that Loco is not particularly bright and does not trust weather peoples, so ofcourse I didn't have an umbrella on me. I took two steps and faster than you can say "Bloody 'ell" it started pouring. With Mo as my witness, the rain in Malaysia is ruthless. It was as though someone hollered "Open the floodgates of heaven!!" And God said "You asked for it!!!" then those impish angels who operate the floodgates went apeshit on the opening mechanisms! The end result...

I'm soaked through and through,in a white shirt mind!! So I rush up the steps and call Mr Bossman. "Come to A2 floor 8." "I'll be right up I reply" Then the hunt for A2 began. After about 15 minutes or so I figure out that there are FOUR taylors colleges, and yep you guessed it, am at the wrong one!! (I can't make this shit up, I swuurrrrs!!)

Grace is needed ASAP but nooooo, she doesn't feel the need to show up. I continue the struggle on my own!

Finally I call Mr. Bossman and explain how pathetically lost I am. "Okay,wait for me at the starbucks I'll come pick you up!" Ohhh sweet reprieve!! I rush into starbucks, DRIPPING WET, dying for a hit of something hot and coffeeish.


"Could I please have a cafe americano, extra strong!!" "That will be 11.60RM," the guy at the counter says giving drenched Loco a sympathetic look but struggling to swallow his laughter at the same time, what with me looking like a drenched cat and whatnot!!

I decided to wait outside. Now I won't expound on this next part too much, the memory is still too painfully fresh! It will suffice to say, 4 inch heels and a wet ramp equals afew inches of aching bum....

I'm soaked, lost and I can't for the life of me sit down properly. Screw that bitch Grace, now I'm just crossing my fingers that I'll run into her cousin mercy!!

You know there's more!!