Mo money, mo problems. They say "the best things in life are free", that person was definately not talking about steamed fish. Drama! I often meet up on/with people who are very regimental. They like to do the same thing over and over again, except in slightly different ways and they tend to hate me because sometimes I MAY wake up early in the morning before the sun and decide to do something the other day instead of building a time machine, going back into the past and doing it the day before. Being swallowed in the sea a idocracy is not to my liking. So much to do so little time. Thank God it isn't snowing outside. Small mercies.
Back to regular life now, I haven't murdered my hair for a good month or so. I'm toying with the idea of just letting it grow out. Free and alive until my head becomes extremely big and people start plotting to do me harm - spin a web for me. Its remarkable how many people get murdered these days over meaningless drivel and parking spots. Just the other day I was looking through some bills when I knocked over my glass of Tropicana destroying any sense of order and prompting me to go to the Mega Mart to buy cake - it will make sense to you - eventually.
I was comparing apples and oranges yesterday while staring through the headache inducing wood fence that blocks my foggy view of the mountains. Apparently the builder-dude, carpenter or jesus himself thought it would look "cool", but never really sat down and tried to stare at a moving object through it. At which point he would realise that it is impossible for multi-eyed people to focus on anything at all outside without going completely crazy. Mysterious ways.
When I arrived - the first time they (the woman behind the glass door) said I had to make an appointment. I think she just wanted to cramp my style. "Tomorrow" I replied with a smile, popped my collar and dusted the dirt off my shoulder like a pimp with a lollipop and a little collie weed. "Only Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays" she replied stabbing me in the heart, sensing that I was in a rush and a habitual late comer. Darkness. I could not tell what she was about, had not cards to put on her table.
Two weeks later I arrived again - early (which should have struck me as a sign of doom) only to see people waiting in the lobby, painted yellow with green chairs and magazines on a shelf in the corner. Apparently here scheduled time is merely a means of crowd control and nothing else. Apparently this was one of those afternoon centric offices.
The thing about waiting in the lobby is that they fail to get new magazines. I found myself reading through 4 year old editions of cosmopolitan, laptop tech, women's health, womens fitness, healthy living and a teen pop magazine - which I can't remember - which explains alot. I was lost in my copy of cosmo when the sexy little lady sitting across the way started looking at me weird - she was begging me to say something funny but I could sense she wasn't real - she was too much - a train wreck waiting to happen. It felt like I was there for 5 days when the doctor finally arrived - looking like she had just come back from a night on the town - pigeons and crumbs.
So I watch television and one of the shows I watch is The Real World on MTV. Now that the Anti-Christ has disconnected my cable company's feed I have nothing to do but write about the things I used to watch. Now this season Real World is full of crazy unattractive white people. I mean really, can't there be at least one fat ass black girl in America who is messed up enough to appear on that show? So if you don't know already The Real world is a show where they select seven people to live in a house together, unfortunately this season they selected the seven worst people EVER!
Now I know that crazy people make good TV but for heaven sakes at least have a balance of craziness. I imagine the producers of that reality show met around a big round table with orange juice and said "hmm lets see what combination of people will most likely result in so some sort of crime that we can catch on camera" - fall away leave me bleeding. Everybody wants a piece of everybody else.
The Real World is one of the only shows that I can still watch on MTV without feeling twice my age. Almost like yesterday when I was not at home early in the morning, hungry and island grill was closed. The only option was burger king I went in and noticed that the menu seemed odd or maybe I have never been in there this early in the morning, apparently its the breakfast menu and apparently the french toast combo meal on the menu is actually a slice of bread and hot water in a cup. :(
I am often asked how I find time to update this website, what stars direct my faith. Its not really hard. A focused mind can find anything. There is so much bueaty in the world. All that it requires is a little time to write it down, separate the clutter. At the base of it all, every song is a love song. Its all a matter of perspective, how you look at it or listen to it.
As I'm eating my calalloo rice out of a Styrofoam cup takes a very long time to decompose in the environment and has been documented to cause starvation in birds and other marine wildlife. If I had the time, a whole lot a money or if luck was a lady; I would rent a whole floor of the pan caribbean building - don't ask me why. When you live by the day, pay by the hour, and sleep on the weekends, you tend to lay in the bed that you made, die by what you live by. Passion is a curse.
I spent all of last week thinking up new application concepts and watching wild ants eat babies on Discovery - not really - they were eating chickens. Babies taste like chicken? I ask cause I'm not sure. I learn fast, so you don't really have to go into the details. Photographic memory tends to be a curse when you remember odd little details about everything and yet absolute nothing about others. It does wear me down at times, like a caged animal.
I've been watching african movies on dvd since my cable company's feed was hyjacked by the latest monopoly - cream and bastards. I'm hooked on them like a baby on a well endowed milk machine - a monkey on a swing. There is no hesitation in these films for men to head butt women, jealous sisters marrying there dead sister's husbands, women fighting over men in supermarkets - its not the typical regurgitant I am accustomed to seeing on american cable or on profile for the last twenty one years. Cinderella gets her fair share of bad treatment.
African films live on a whole different set of rules; women typically stay at home, have babies and then get murdered or betrayed in some unusually conniving way. Only to return as ghosts to set things right. There are also a lot less curse word and they place a lot of emphasis on morals and ethics. Cursing is replaced with long sensitions of crying, well bawling would be a better word to describe the river of H2O that percipitates when anyone dies or gets slapped - did I mention how they like to slap alot? One girl got headbutted once, shot, burned with acided, given a letal injection and slapped at least once by every character in the movie, all because she was in love with the dude that president's daughter wanted. It was very painful to watch - I loved it - pure drama.
The films I've been watching seem to be from Ghana. Which may explain why the director keeps using the same actors over and over again - not that I'm complaining cause there apparently is no shortage of leading ladies with healthy backend support, thickness, camera crews, etc. Hair extentions are abundant but not quite as annoying as the fact that EVERY MOVIE IS A TWO PART SERIES. It is as if they can never finish slapping anybody in a hour and a half. Nothing is worst than watching part 1 and having the possiblity of NEVER SEEING THE CONCLUSION! I am enjoying still, if not only to see who will get murdered or slapped next, how and when the father will catch the son sleeping with his mistress who happens to be his wife's sister. The plot is never the same, which is good.