Well it's that time of year again; the holiday hawk is once again ready to swoop down and snatch the limp bodies of the cold, lonely and video game obsessed. He's not getting my ass this year though! HA! You know why? 'Cause I got myself a woman... and a brand new copy of Splinter Cell: Double Agent. If he does come looking for me, his ass ain't finding shit because I learned how to blend seamlessly into the shadows from playing that game... wait, do birds have night vision though? Damn...
ANYway...
As far as my Christmas list goes, its as blank as my Chemistry answer booklet. I don't want anything particularly, though I know people are still going to buy stuff for me. Don't get me wrong though, I'm grateful for all gifts, but because I don't want any gifts, I'm less compelled to buy gifts for other people; but the look they give you after they hand me my present is so damn uncomfortable: They give you the gift and stand there with their mouth slightly open in the shape of the last syllable they uttered, and their eyes are all googley and dinner-plate-ish waiting for you to give them something in return. It makes me feel bad to say: "What?... Or! Shit boy, I en have nothing for you nah, but do worry we go link a scene in a timin' "
Note: Use of my local dialect is a cheap ploy to show that they have my word as a Trinidadian that their gesture of consideration will not go unnoticed.
Yeah, so the fact that I posses nothing tangible to exchange with them is a little bit "weird" for me.
All this talk about me not wanting anything though, I know that when Christmas morning comes I'm gonna want to see something in that couch (poor people don't know nothing about no Christmas tree).
You know what else is gonna be awkward? When my friends call me and ask what did I get for Christmas and I'll say "nothing", then I'm gonna have to state (every single time) that I didn't want anything for Christmas to not make it sound like I'm seeing hard times with money because then they'll all put up and buy something for me and I'll feel like a Charity case.
Not many people know this about me but I'd rather tighten my belt than ask for help, and when people do me favors, it kinda bothers me... though sometimes I do get some kick-ass favors (aside from the sexual ones lol.)
Well... apart from my gift situation and the escape from the holiday hawk, things are pretty much mellow.
The Internet is settling down drastically as the web's most talented technologically savvy authors are curing their carpal tunnel syndrome to get ready for 2007's onslaught of gaming goodness. Next year is going to be like 2004 for games: A lot of big releases and high expectations, innovative game play, graphical beauty contests and a lot of fan boy forum speculation flares are all on the platter for the big '07.
Too bad all that's so far away though, because right now I'm just dying for some speculation juices to start flowing through the veins of Afterdawn, Revision3 and G4's forums.
In an attempt to change my luck with the infrequent updates of gaming news, I sat at my computer tonight, not in the usual tighty whities, but in a full-length track pants... my tactic didn't work that well as my inbox was littered with information only about Microsoft's XNA, Robotics Studio 1.0 and Office 2007 system. I didn't even get anything about Windows Vista for cryin' out loud. it's that bad.
Gamespy, IGN, G4, Gamespot and just about everybody else had their pick for game of the year so in actuality, there is no real game of the year... So I'm just as confused as to what to download as the other guy.
Wait one fuckin minute! How the hell did the entry reach to this topic? Well I know one Kevin Sheppard who's not backspacing all off that text, so read up to this point and relate to my self-inflicted fury and confusion.
Merry Christmas everybody!
Friday, December 22, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Aha!
Coming to think of it, the interjection that is the title of this entry, is a little bit unnecessary for this one since my pleasant experiences only encompass about, say, 2-3 lines of crap... We'll start with the good crap first then dig our way farther down into the shit hole.
The weekend is finally upon me! Today marks the (technical) end of my examination period. Yes, while all you little rats were suckling on the tit of secondary school education and enjoying the benefits of an early vacation, I was losing sleep, slaving over a hot text book. The numbers, facts and formulas singed my face during the wee hours of the morning while you were all snuggled under your covers, the same covers that shielded you from the same devious Christmas breeze that numbed the nerves on my back as I sat half naked by an open window. I hate you all!
Anyway...
What a day to end a week though- 4 hrs and 50 mins. with your girlfriend during an exam is too much to ask for, but I got it anyway :P
Every time I see her, it's like I'm falling in love all over again; But every time I see her again though, I get the rise of that old familiar sinking feeling - that all the past incidental memories trail behind her, like the train of a wedding gown made by the embodiment sadness itself. That's between me and her though...
I spent some time today just chilling out, relaxing, saying dumb crap (as they say) and basically basking in the ambiance of her company. Did I ever tell you that she's a really good listener?
The lime with her today was good, no complaints really.
That's it for the good part of the week.
The rest of days were less than satisfactory and my exam performance followed suit. My Mathematics and Computer exams were done really well, Physics was myeeeaaaaahh (when you say that last word, do the thing with your hand where you put it out flat and tilt it from side to side) and I shat all over Chemistry. Whoever invented the subject would be turning over in their grave if they saw the kind of things I wrote.
The answer sheet was basically returned as markless as it was issued. The multiple choice was a series of random shadings - I think I tried to make a smiley face or something. The structured section was littered with broken explanations and common sense workings, for example C11O3 isn't really a chemical is it? No? Well that was one of my answers. I suppose it could be a new type of drug...
Physics was sort of OK since I had basic understanding of all the principles to be applied, but the questions were a lot harder than I expected. Fuck it yes, a grade B is still good.
So that's how my exams went...
My week, as I said, followed suit: Restless and miserable. Too many situations to deal with, expectations too high to meet, repressed memories surfaced but were repressed once more.
My body is worn, my mind is a clogged exhaust pipe and my emotional processors are overworked.
This next week is where I take a little time, a little time to think things over and get all these feelings out. I'm too young to go through this kind of stress. I need this coming week more than anybody can imagine.
A few days with God and myself should make this week (in particular) a bitter/sweet memory.
Mourn me not, for I shall return... eventually
The weekend is finally upon me! Today marks the (technical) end of my examination period. Yes, while all you little rats were suckling on the tit of secondary school education and enjoying the benefits of an early vacation, I was losing sleep, slaving over a hot text book. The numbers, facts and formulas singed my face during the wee hours of the morning while you were all snuggled under your covers, the same covers that shielded you from the same devious Christmas breeze that numbed the nerves on my back as I sat half naked by an open window. I hate you all!
Anyway...
What a day to end a week though- 4 hrs and 50 mins. with your girlfriend during an exam is too much to ask for, but I got it anyway :P
Every time I see her, it's like I'm falling in love all over again; But every time I see her again though, I get the rise of that old familiar sinking feeling - that all the past incidental memories trail behind her, like the train of a wedding gown made by the embodiment sadness itself. That's between me and her though...
I spent some time today just chilling out, relaxing, saying dumb crap (as they say) and basically basking in the ambiance of her company. Did I ever tell you that she's a really good listener?
The lime with her today was good, no complaints really.
That's it for the good part of the week.
The rest of days were less than satisfactory and my exam performance followed suit. My Mathematics and Computer exams were done really well, Physics was myeeeaaaaahh (when you say that last word, do the thing with your hand where you put it out flat and tilt it from side to side) and I shat all over Chemistry. Whoever invented the subject would be turning over in their grave if they saw the kind of things I wrote.
The answer sheet was basically returned as markless as it was issued. The multiple choice was a series of random shadings - I think I tried to make a smiley face or something. The structured section was littered with broken explanations and common sense workings, for example C11O3 isn't really a chemical is it? No? Well that was one of my answers. I suppose it could be a new type of drug...
Physics was sort of OK since I had basic understanding of all the principles to be applied, but the questions were a lot harder than I expected. Fuck it yes, a grade B is still good.
So that's how my exams went...
My week, as I said, followed suit: Restless and miserable. Too many situations to deal with, expectations too high to meet, repressed memories surfaced but were repressed once more.
My body is worn, my mind is a clogged exhaust pipe and my emotional processors are overworked.
This next week is where I take a little time, a little time to think things over and get all these feelings out. I'm too young to go through this kind of stress. I need this coming week more than anybody can imagine.
A few days with God and myself should make this week (in particular) a bitter/sweet memory.
Mourn me not, for I shall return... eventually
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Unbelievable
Sorry to disappoint, but the title has nothing to do with my performance in the bedroom, and by performance I mean the little demonstration of my hardcore gaming skills that I entertain my guests with when they come to visit ;)
The title more pertains to my wanton disregard and failure to prioritise tasks and objectives. Take today for example - between getting my ass rinsed in a fight and trying to solicit sex from random interned hotties, I find myself making time to listen to Vybz Kartel talk about AK's, subs, rubber gloves, black talons and vaginas.
I don't know about you, but these don't sound like the precautionary measures I should be taking against having to repeat my first semester. Lemme break down that point for you:
In my school, If you fail one out of your seven courses in any semester, you do over the whole year. its that simple. Currently, my Chemistry mark rivals that of yesterday's Lottery draw in a stiff, neck and neck competition to see which one can pull a lower number (place all bets on my Chem mark btw.)
Things don't look too promising, and did I mention that my exams start next week? Yeah, I'm just one of those guys.
Well would you look at that? This is the first substantial entry I made in a long time. Wow! I'm proud of myself.
I know who's to blame though - this girl I'm seeing. You see, after I tell her how sucky my day, week, month or life is going, I feel as though I don't need to tell anybody else because... I've already told everybody I need to tell so I don't come here to write about it.
I guess the reason I started this blog was to relate my crappy situations to somebody who'll always be listening and not complain about how much I talk, or cut me off because they have more urgent matters to attend to. I started it because I thought that the qualities of a blank text entry widget could not be found in any person. I now know that I was wrong. I'm glad I am.
Its unbelievable how she does it. Though her responses to some of my most unfortunate experiences were not what I would call "humane" or "kind", the cruelty hits me hard at first, then fades away; dissipates into a mist that I sail through as it turns into nothing but a dismembered apparition behind me... but wait a minute, who am I trying to bullshit? Quite frankly I think I've developed the Herbivore Syndrome since I started relating her stories i.e. When she laughs at my misfortunes, I grind my teeth so much that, by now, they're probably all the same length and as dull as a Holy Name chick, thus rendering me almost incapable of eating meat. (Herbivore Syndrome)
You know how it feels to have somebody laugh at your near-paralyzed ass after you told them you injured your back at the gym? I tell you, it's no orgasm!
But no matter, this girl's amazing. She has the ear that always listens, the eyes that see through my outer shell of coarse masculinity, the voice that lulls my inner beast of insanity to sleep and the rhythm that the wild beating of my heart was looking for. She kind of makes this blog seem redundant and unnecessary. I'll tell you more about her later though...
Now what was I going to write about now.... shit!!!
The title more pertains to my wanton disregard and failure to prioritise tasks and objectives. Take today for example - between getting my ass rinsed in a fight and trying to solicit sex from random interned hotties, I find myself making time to listen to Vybz Kartel talk about AK's, subs, rubber gloves, black talons and vaginas.
I don't know about you, but these don't sound like the precautionary measures I should be taking against having to repeat my first semester. Lemme break down that point for you:
In my school, If you fail one out of your seven courses in any semester, you do over the whole year. its that simple. Currently, my Chemistry mark rivals that of yesterday's Lottery draw in a stiff, neck and neck competition to see which one can pull a lower number (place all bets on my Chem mark btw.)
Things don't look too promising, and did I mention that my exams start next week? Yeah, I'm just one of those guys.
Well would you look at that? This is the first substantial entry I made in a long time. Wow! I'm proud of myself.
I know who's to blame though - this girl I'm seeing. You see, after I tell her how sucky my day, week, month or life is going, I feel as though I don't need to tell anybody else because... I've already told everybody I need to tell so I don't come here to write about it.
I guess the reason I started this blog was to relate my crappy situations to somebody who'll always be listening and not complain about how much I talk, or cut me off because they have more urgent matters to attend to. I started it because I thought that the qualities of a blank text entry widget could not be found in any person. I now know that I was wrong. I'm glad I am.
Its unbelievable how she does it. Though her responses to some of my most unfortunate experiences were not what I would call "humane" or "kind", the cruelty hits me hard at first, then fades away; dissipates into a mist that I sail through as it turns into nothing but a dismembered apparition behind me... but wait a minute, who am I trying to bullshit? Quite frankly I think I've developed the Herbivore Syndrome since I started relating her stories i.e. When she laughs at my misfortunes, I grind my teeth so much that, by now, they're probably all the same length and as dull as a Holy Name chick, thus rendering me almost incapable of eating meat. (Herbivore Syndrome)
You know how it feels to have somebody laugh at your near-paralyzed ass after you told them you injured your back at the gym? I tell you, it's no orgasm!
But no matter, this girl's amazing. She has the ear that always listens, the eyes that see through my outer shell of coarse masculinity, the voice that lulls my inner beast of insanity to sleep and the rhythm that the wild beating of my heart was looking for. She kind of makes this blog seem redundant and unnecessary. I'll tell you more about her later though...
Now what was I going to write about now.... shit!!!
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Like, What The F***?
Like the saying goes - speak of the devil and he shall manifest himself in all the wrong ways and at all of the wrong times. Not that I ever really mention him...except when I'm cursing and saying things like "bloody hell" and "what the hell?" but that doesn't really count because I'm mentioning the residence of the devil and not him (directly); but that's not the point. Weather or not you mention the rat bastard, he manifests himself, like i said before, in all the wrong ways at all the wrong times. Kind of like a mix between superstition an Murphy's Law. Well I'd have you know that this saying is no superstitious banter and experiencing it first-hand is no basket of roses. I am living proof that the son of a bitch is really out there to mess you up... permanently! Take a look at my weekend:
Thursday
As if feeling like a dog dying of AIDS and mange wasn't bad enough, my Mathematics lecturer had to come in on a double period (2 hours long) and give us an exam.
The good: it was open-book
The bad: the exam was longer than all the Harry Potter books combined with my cousin's criminal record stapled to the end just for good measure.
On each page, numbers, symbols and operands gurned at me. Their grins and taunts strumming on my nerves as I tried my best to navigate my way through the maze of torment and inevitable failure that they have set forth for me to endure.
1 hour and 25 minutes later, my final full-stop lifted my corpse out of the labyrinth and transported me to the end. To the bright light that I have yearned for during the hours passed. I walk down the desert of misery that is the school hall - bruised, battered and waiting for the buzzards to arrive.
I literally collapse on a bench and reach for my lifeline. I used it to call my friend who lives nearby to see if I would be lucky enough to seek refuge and shelter; flee from those cursed halls and avoid the angry sharks that wait at the transportation center. She was home, it was OK for me to stop by. I was in luck.
The journey to her house seemed further than usual but the music in my ear through my iPod shaved a few steps off the journey.
When I had arrived, the house was alive with activity. An old friend came to visit before I reached, so at least I wasn't the disrupting factor of the evening.
I stayed there, rested, recuperated and waited for the angel of life-giving (mom) to arrive and carry me home.
Friday
Not enough sleep in my system, not enough time to relax; either way, I had to get up and prepare for a meeting that was scheduled about the website I'm working on for St. Francois Girls' College.
I donned my robes after doing the whole "prepare to go out ritual".
Upon turning the door knob, the phone rang - mom was calling me to do her a small advertisement for a garage sale that she would be hosting.
Being the person I am, I told mom that I was late for a meeting with the principal of St. Francois Girls' College.
Now in this paragraph, there are some things that I'd like to say about this woman with whom I have to meet, but for the sake of peace and the existence of my blog I will digress.
My mom understood the situation and bribed me with a direct drop to my destination after her little flyer task was done. I couldn't refuse. We all know how I love public transportation in this country.
I sat there, hammering away at the keyboard, longing to insert that final piece of clip art - my invisible finish line.
Finally, mom arrived home and the flyers were reviewed, edited and published faster than a rabbit gets fucked.
Next stop - meeting... but wait, what's this? A phone call?...
Answering that phone was an action, irreversible and as regrettable as not "pulling out" during a sexual encounter. The words that slithered their way through that speaker found their way to the core of my nervous system, merged with the 32 solder point monstrosity that is my brain and delivered more amps of vicious charge than is allowed - the meeting was canceled.
Maybe if I didn't have notes and a small presentation prepared, the meeting's cancellation would have been a gift wrapped blessing, but both my time and adrenaline were wasted - the two things I need more than anyone can imagine (if I am to make it through this weekend).
My body shut down temporarily, but my reservoir of Jesus' grace (my back-up generators) kicked in and I was re-animated, but with that small "eye-twitch" defect.
No matter how angry I got though, I couldn't let it out. I played it cool. A duck on a pond - on the surface things are cool and under control, but beneath is a hidden system of chaotic locomotion.
Friday Afternoon
Despite the cancellation of the meeting, I was still invited to go down to the school to tweak the site's interface and give it that hard to achieve "Francois Feeling". At least the day didn't completely go to waste.
Ah, the power of the vagina - being around all those girls for so long did the impossible; and the strange thing is that they didn't even try! I was defused and possible to be reasoned with... but only for a little while
When the little gathering was over, my girlfriend and I decided to end the day with a little movie viewing.
OK Sorry to disappoint, but I can't quite remember how this day ended. This was a draft that I worked on a while ago and decided to publish today. What I can remember is a chinese man in a brown jersey pissing me off with his bad walking habbits, me getting trouble to get a taxi to go home and back and arriving at my girl's house only to see that she was still in her uniform and chating playfully with her schoolfriend, ignorant to the fact that I was on the virge of breaking out the old chainsaw (vrinnnn vrinn vrinnnnnnn!!!! - wicked sound effects) As fo the movie and whatnot, I can't remember, but i'm sure it ended fairly bitter... as it usually did... back in the old days.
So, hope you had a good read, sorry about the anti-climax :(
Thursday
As if feeling like a dog dying of AIDS and mange wasn't bad enough, my Mathematics lecturer had to come in on a double period (2 hours long) and give us an exam.
The good: it was open-book
The bad: the exam was longer than all the Harry Potter books combined with my cousin's criminal record stapled to the end just for good measure.
On each page, numbers, symbols and operands gurned at me. Their grins and taunts strumming on my nerves as I tried my best to navigate my way through the maze of torment and inevitable failure that they have set forth for me to endure.
1 hour and 25 minutes later, my final full-stop lifted my corpse out of the labyrinth and transported me to the end. To the bright light that I have yearned for during the hours passed. I walk down the desert of misery that is the school hall - bruised, battered and waiting for the buzzards to arrive.
I literally collapse on a bench and reach for my lifeline. I used it to call my friend who lives nearby to see if I would be lucky enough to seek refuge and shelter; flee from those cursed halls and avoid the angry sharks that wait at the transportation center. She was home, it was OK for me to stop by. I was in luck.
The journey to her house seemed further than usual but the music in my ear through my iPod shaved a few steps off the journey.
When I had arrived, the house was alive with activity. An old friend came to visit before I reached, so at least I wasn't the disrupting factor of the evening.
I stayed there, rested, recuperated and waited for the angel of life-giving (mom) to arrive and carry me home.
Friday
Not enough sleep in my system, not enough time to relax; either way, I had to get up and prepare for a meeting that was scheduled about the website I'm working on for St. Francois Girls' College.
I donned my robes after doing the whole "prepare to go out ritual".
Upon turning the door knob, the phone rang - mom was calling me to do her a small advertisement for a garage sale that she would be hosting.
Being the person I am, I told mom that I was late for a meeting with the principal of St. Francois Girls' College.
Now in this paragraph, there are some things that I'd like to say about this woman with whom I have to meet, but for the sake of peace and the existence of my blog I will digress.
My mom understood the situation and bribed me with a direct drop to my destination after her little flyer task was done. I couldn't refuse. We all know how I love public transportation in this country.
I sat there, hammering away at the keyboard, longing to insert that final piece of clip art - my invisible finish line.
Finally, mom arrived home and the flyers were reviewed, edited and published faster than a rabbit gets fucked.
Next stop - meeting... but wait, what's this? A phone call?...
Answering that phone was an action, irreversible and as regrettable as not "pulling out" during a sexual encounter. The words that slithered their way through that speaker found their way to the core of my nervous system, merged with the 32 solder point monstrosity that is my brain and delivered more amps of vicious charge than is allowed - the meeting was canceled.
Maybe if I didn't have notes and a small presentation prepared, the meeting's cancellation would have been a gift wrapped blessing, but both my time and adrenaline were wasted - the two things I need more than anyone can imagine (if I am to make it through this weekend).
My body shut down temporarily, but my reservoir of Jesus' grace (my back-up generators) kicked in and I was re-animated, but with that small "eye-twitch" defect.
No matter how angry I got though, I couldn't let it out. I played it cool. A duck on a pond - on the surface things are cool and under control, but beneath is a hidden system of chaotic locomotion.
Friday Afternoon
Despite the cancellation of the meeting, I was still invited to go down to the school to tweak the site's interface and give it that hard to achieve "Francois Feeling". At least the day didn't completely go to waste.
Ah, the power of the vagina - being around all those girls for so long did the impossible; and the strange thing is that they didn't even try! I was defused and possible to be reasoned with... but only for a little while
When the little gathering was over, my girlfriend and I decided to end the day with a little movie viewing.
OK Sorry to disappoint, but I can't quite remember how this day ended. This was a draft that I worked on a while ago and decided to publish today. What I can remember is a chinese man in a brown jersey pissing me off with his bad walking habbits, me getting trouble to get a taxi to go home and back and arriving at my girl's house only to see that she was still in her uniform and chating playfully with her schoolfriend, ignorant to the fact that I was on the virge of breaking out the old chainsaw (vrinnnn vrinn vrinnnnnnn!!!! - wicked sound effects) As fo the movie and whatnot, I can't remember, but i'm sure it ended fairly bitter... as it usually did... back in the old days.
So, hope you had a good read, sorry about the anti-climax :(
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