Franz Kafka International Airport... courtesy of ONN.
Note: One edge is slightly cut off, due to me being bad at embedding players. (It's better than getting one end to stick out)
Prague's Franz Kafka International Named World's Most Alienating Airport
Showing posts with label nonsense(s). Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonsense(s). Show all posts
Monday, April 06, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Road Trip Expose: Zoo
Here are the promised ocular proof courtesy of the lovely Hash. Check out the pics below.
Never go to the toilet when tickets are being distributed or end up like me with the one with the picture of the proboscis monkey.
Check out the cute mousedeer!
to The Ethiopian Village, where you can play Where's Wally!
It's a pity the stalker looks so much like somebody's auntie. Why couldn't it have been someone better looking and male?
Attempts to identify this person took on a strange if relieving turn. Could she possibly be the missing link between homo sapiens and simia hamadryas, i.e. baboons? Could it be that she was merely tailing us to find her way home?
Alas, it would seem that I was wrong about the previous conjecture. The Mysterious Presence continues to follow us around, even as we consult the map on our way out of the zoo.
Gods know who this bespectacled stranger is. A trick of the light? A photo-taking error? At any rate, our trip which began bright if not so early, seemed plagued from the very beginning by the shadowy presence of Someone Else.
Never go to the toilet when tickets are being distributed or end up like me with the one with the picture of the proboscis monkey.Check out the cute mousedeer!
The white tigers.
Looking very majestic is this one,
Lounging on the rock.
And this is Albert. Or Alberta for all you know.
Who this stalker is, nobody knows. But as it is, we can only proceed on...
to The Ethiopian Village, where you can play Where's Wally! It's a pity the stalker looks so much like somebody's auntie. Why couldn't it have been someone better looking and male?Attempts to identify this person took on a strange if relieving turn. Could she possibly be the missing link between homo sapiens and simia hamadryas, i.e. baboons? Could it be that she was merely tailing us to find her way home?Alas, it would seem that I was wrong about the previous conjecture. The Mysterious Presence continues to follow us around, even as we consult the map on our way out of the zoo.The stalker stalked. Further attempts to identify this person indicates that she is probably human, given the classic gormless tourist pose. Nevertheless, it's nice to be able to confirm that.
That's all for now folks! See you all at the zoo again!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Road Trip: Zoo
Yesterday, went to the Singapore Zoo with Hash and--. Am not certain, but it seems we were stalked by a bizarre figure in sunglasses. Attempted to shake stalker off, but no avail, not even when in desperation, we went to Ethiopia. See Hash's pictures for ocular proof.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Essaying at breakfast does odd things to the mind
I have 5000 words to write. I have to bake my breakfast. Which will probably double as lunch.
The Pizza Rant
HAD we but world enough, and time,
This pizza would be no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To bake and cook and take all day.
Thou by the kitchen’s side
Shouldst slowly knives find: I by the tide
Of morn’s passing would complain. I would
Wait ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
To bake till the conversion of the Jews.
My patience should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
The crisp golden doughy paste;
Two hundred to adore each slice,
But thirty thousand to turkey ham diced;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, pizza, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy goodness shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy oven vault, shall sound
200 degrees! Ding!: then worms shall
The preservative filled pizza try,
And its quaint honour turn to dust,
And into dustbin goes it must:
The bin’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on pizza still,
And while it transpires
That oven still has warm fires,
Let me if I may,
Assay my essay like birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us our brainwaves roll and all
Our depression up into a ball,
And bear this academic strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we can at least have fun.
-- Missfickle.
Adapted from Andrew Marvell's To His Coy Mistress
Postmodernism runs rank and anybody who takes this seriously can't see my point. Sigh. Breakfast smells too good though.
Updated: I realise that the last line didn't make any sense. Hence the change. It in all probability still doesn't, but what do I know?
The Pizza Rant
HAD we but world enough, and time,
This pizza would be no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To bake and cook and take all day.
Thou by the kitchen’s side
Shouldst slowly knives find: I by the tide
Of morn’s passing would complain. I would
Wait ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
To bake till the conversion of the Jews.
My patience should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
The crisp golden doughy paste;
Two hundred to adore each slice,
But thirty thousand to turkey ham diced;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, pizza, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy goodness shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy oven vault, shall sound
200 degrees! Ding!: then worms shall
The preservative filled pizza try,
And its quaint honour turn to dust,
And into dustbin goes it must:
The bin’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on pizza still,
And while it transpires
That oven still has warm fires,
Let me if I may,
Assay my essay like birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us our brainwaves roll and all
Our depression up into a ball,
And bear this academic strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we can at least have fun.
-- Missfickle.
Adapted from Andrew Marvell's To His Coy Mistress
Postmodernism runs rank and anybody who takes this seriously can't see my point. Sigh. Breakfast smells too good though.
Updated: I realise that the last line didn't make any sense. Hence the change. It in all probability still doesn't, but what do I know?
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Stumbled on a memory
And so, it’s not quite the height of summer boredom, nor was it set in a deserted house, but the contrary, a well lit restaurant, and rather than sitting amidst rank weeds under a full moon, I was surrounded by the low buzz of inane chatter and happy diners. Still, ghost stories don’t wait for the so-called appropriate moment but for the importunate moment (I was eating, mind you) and the setting in any case, recedes into being immaterial once one is hooked.
So, after a couple of creepy stories, my friend told me the one her brother told her – one of those army ones that always seem to have an inexplicable ring of truth to them. Actually, this one sounded totally far-fetched, but as they say, human beings have the most amazing capacity for making connections where there are none. Hence, what you will get here are some of those random connections that came to my rambling mind:
So, the story is not the usual creepy kind, but it does lead in several interesting directions. This is the part where you, the reader, will have to suspend belief and assume that this is a real situation. Or maybe not.
The reasonable mind would have pointed out that it seems pretty far-fetched that with so many people coming and going on the stairs, each and everyone of them would have tripped over the ghost, and not just the colonel. A mistake by the reporter? A loophole in the account? In any case, ghosts shouldn’t be able to feel pain – they’re dead after all. In fact, they shouldn’t even be able to trip anyone since they aren’t even a physical obstruction.
Or maybe not.
The reasonable mind can also point out that of course, if the ghost can materialize a solid arm to trip colonels over, they arguably would also feel the sharp pinch of pain due to the contact. No? Yes? In any case, what in the world are ghosts? A slip of memory; a shadow of the past that lurks behind? I remember my physics teacher in secondary school and his wild conspiracy theories. Apart from being convinced that China had managed to conceal a high-tech military facility under the Forbidden City, he spoke about the “4th dimension”. This, he claimed, is the other-worldly world where fragments of time and space wander freely, and when the time-space orbit of our world bumps into this other-place, the outcome is essentially a ghost sighting. Memories of past, present and future? Had this fictitious colonel bumped into an illusory sliver of time realized?
Or maybe not.
So, after a couple of creepy stories, my friend told me the one her brother told her – one of those army ones that always seem to have an inexplicable ring of truth to them. Actually, this one sounded totally far-fetched, but as they say, human beings have the most amazing capacity for making connections where there are none. Hence, what you will get here are some of those random connections that came to my rambling mind:
As the story goes, an army colonel is making his way down the stairs one day (or night). Being a careful man not in a hurry to make his way to his destination, he held on to the staircase railing. Unfortunately, while the colonel was making his sedate way down the stairs; (he wasn’t as young as he once was you know), he, in spite of the precautions, in spite of holding the railing – fell anyway. The lackeys who were before him rushed up the stairs while those behind rushed down to his aid. Here is the interesting part. Out of the many recruits bustling about, one who stood at the top of the stairs remained where he was. His expression was grim, and several of the recruits could only wonder why he did not make a move to help the higher-ranked officer who was, incidentally, below him that day.
The recruits talked about it later that day, and someone finally dared to ask the lone soldier about his odd behaviour. The answer came calmly enough. Coming down the stairs, the soldier explained that he’d seen the colonel fall over an old man who had been sitting on the staircase, and even as his room mates hurtled to the colonel’s rescue, the old ghost, unnoticed, had been rubbing his injured arm in an irritated way. It seemed, the colonel had had the misfortune of tripping over a ghost…
So, the story is not the usual creepy kind, but it does lead in several interesting directions. This is the part where you, the reader, will have to suspend belief and assume that this is a real situation. Or maybe not.
The reasonable mind would have pointed out that it seems pretty far-fetched that with so many people coming and going on the stairs, each and everyone of them would have tripped over the ghost, and not just the colonel. A mistake by the reporter? A loophole in the account? In any case, ghosts shouldn’t be able to feel pain – they’re dead after all. In fact, they shouldn’t even be able to trip anyone since they aren’t even a physical obstruction.
Or maybe not.
The reasonable mind can also point out that of course, if the ghost can materialize a solid arm to trip colonels over, they arguably would also feel the sharp pinch of pain due to the contact. No? Yes? In any case, what in the world are ghosts? A slip of memory; a shadow of the past that lurks behind? I remember my physics teacher in secondary school and his wild conspiracy theories. Apart from being convinced that China had managed to conceal a high-tech military facility under the Forbidden City, he spoke about the “4th dimension”. This, he claimed, is the other-worldly world where fragments of time and space wander freely, and when the time-space orbit of our world bumps into this other-place, the outcome is essentially a ghost sighting. Memories of past, present and future? Had this fictitious colonel bumped into an illusory sliver of time realized?
Or maybe not.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The 200th Post: Academe's Supergirl
Academe's Supergirl
***
She scans books with a single glance,
She scales CAP with a single bound,
Wields a pen like a a blazing lance,
And gets A pluses all around.
***
Friday, March 21, 2008
Strange Thoughts
What is the Spring Equinox:
In certain parts of the world, this would mean that the length of day = the length of night, and you either chant a lot or dance a lot or do both. In the grander scheme of things, it means that sometime in late March, the sun is directly between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn and the North pole and South pole (same difference) or directly overhead at the Equator. This of course is not an issue to people living at the Equator since the weather is indistinguishable all year round except for certain periods of more rain (therefore wetter) or less rain (hotter). It's even harder to predict now, when it rains one week and then is boiling for the next.
Further out in the twilight of space, where the sun is but one bright spark surrounded by more bright sparks, the Spring Equinox is a phenomenon unheard of... As such aliens to Earth need not bother.
In certain parts of the world, this would mean that the length of day = the length of night, and you either chant a lot or dance a lot or do both. In the grander scheme of things, it means that sometime in late March, the sun is directly between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn and the North pole and South pole (same difference) or directly overhead at the Equator. This of course is not an issue to people living at the Equator since the weather is indistinguishable all year round except for certain periods of more rain (therefore wetter) or less rain (hotter). It's even harder to predict now, when it rains one week and then is boiling for the next.
Further out in the twilight of space, where the sun is but one bright spark surrounded by more bright sparks, the Spring Equinox is a phenomenon unheard of... As such aliens to Earth need not bother.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
BarberQ
Going to a BBQ and meeting the people you haven't met in a while or people you've never met at all is like watching Sweeney Todd.
Really.
It was
fun
disturbing
(slightly)
and
ended
too
Soon.
(Mostly, I just liked the title, so there, an analogy is born.)
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
When Skool happens
The Skool Survivor Scheme
An Easy Guide to Follow and Adhere by
Being the unique and utterly useless treatise on subjects of mild interest
By MsF
First and most obvious thing: Your Bag: Always bring one with you. You never know when piles of textbooks would suddenly drop in on you, and a bag is always handy for such circumstances. You don't actually want to be seen lugging these evil creatures about do you? Therefore, for the 1st week, and I mean the first 7 schooling days, a big bag. After that, you don't want to be seen with the mother of evil creatures - the unsightly big bag do you?
Second and of secondary importance: Shoes: Comfort is important, but then so is newness. New shoes, are bought for not only comfort, but also speed and infinite stairs.
Third, which is not so much 3rd as in conjunction (in anticipation of murphy's law), or as is most often the case, followed by: plasters: Tucked in said big bag / underneath demonic new shoes / jeans pockets
Four, for: Fun (last chance, really)
Fifth: The Essential Element: A notebook. Electronic or otherwise. Remember to get it updated, change your passwords, especially if they have expired...
Sixth, and final, which is for Patience, for getting down to here, you don't quite need the advice, but still, be patient with the new, the unwelcome, the housekeeping and general sense of getting down to slaving away.
An Easy Guide to Follow and Adhere by
Being the unique and utterly useless treatise on subjects of mild interest
By MsF
First and most obvious thing: Your Bag: Always bring one with you. You never know when piles of textbooks would suddenly drop in on you, and a bag is always handy for such circumstances. You don't actually want to be seen lugging these evil creatures about do you? Therefore, for the 1st week, and I mean the first 7 schooling days, a big bag. After that, you don't want to be seen with the mother of evil creatures - the unsightly big bag do you?
Second and of secondary importance: Shoes: Comfort is important, but then so is newness. New shoes, are bought for not only comfort, but also speed and infinite stairs.
Third, which is not so much 3rd as in conjunction (in anticipation of murphy's law), or as is most often the case, followed by: plasters: Tucked in said big bag / underneath demonic new shoes / jeans pockets
Four, for: Fun (last chance, really)
Fifth: The Essential Element: A notebook. Electronic or otherwise. Remember to get it updated, change your passwords, especially if they have expired...
Sixth, and final, which is for Patience, for getting down to here, you don't quite need the advice, but still, be patient with the new, the unwelcome, the housekeeping and general sense of getting down to slaving away.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Examinus Lazuli
Dear doctor:
My head aches, and my nose is runny. It's not a flu because I don't have a fever, and I feel sleepy only if I look at my revision notes. Perhaps I am allergic to paper? No? Oh yeah, I've written on them ever since I could write (or scrawl or doodle). In any case, do you think you could write me an excuse? I don't want to take my exams.
Thank you.
m.F.
My head aches, and my nose is runny. It's not a flu because I don't have a fever, and I feel sleepy only if I look at my revision notes. Perhaps I am allergic to paper? No? Oh yeah, I've written on them ever since I could write (or scrawl or doodle). In any case, do you think you could write me an excuse? I don't want to take my exams.
Thank you.
m.F.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Reading and Writing
MF:Gooood evening ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Ms Fickle's Mind Live! Interview, where you get to meet such extraordinary persons that you won't think to meet! (and will never meet, Peace be upon you) As for tonight, let's see just who we have tonight at the studio!
[camera pans right to cushy armchairs]
MF:Ah! I see that we have the excellent Master Reading here in the studio tonight with us! [chorus of excited murmur]
MF: So! Master Reading! What a pleasure it is to meet you in person! I am told that as it is the end of the semester, you have seen a slight dip in those who follow Readership.
MR: [Sourly] It is expected of course. But those who turn away ultimately return during the exams. I am not overly concerned by this.
MF: I see! How nice it is to see you so unconcerned... As a matter of fact, you have been criticised by some as being rather autocratic. Your followers complain that they have been often coerced into Reading textbooks and research.
MR: [waves one hand nonchalantly] I quite fail to see it as my problem. Insofar as I see it, they'll just have to deal with me in whatever way they can. [smirks] Seeing as they can't escape me anyway.
MF: Oh dear. Perhaps this might exlain why in the mean time, Readers have turned to your more charming cousin, Sir Essay Writing. I hear that at least he has been more democratic in dealing with his er. essayists.
MR: Democratic? I hardly think so. He may be as you call it, more "charming", but he is no less demanding than I am. Though I do admit that the effort put in on working on essays are strictly on a voluntary basis. Flattery may get you somewhere with him, but not me. I am not so two-faced. [looks at clock on the wall impatiently] Is it over yet? I did not ask for this ridiculous interview did you know? I am a busy person.
[link terminated]
[camera pans right to cushy armchairs]
MF:Ah! I see that we have the excellent Master Reading here in the studio tonight with us! [chorus of excited murmur]
MF: So! Master Reading! What a pleasure it is to meet you in person! I am told that as it is the end of the semester, you have seen a slight dip in those who follow Readership.
MR: [Sourly] It is expected of course. But those who turn away ultimately return during the exams. I am not overly concerned by this.
MF: I see! How nice it is to see you so unconcerned... As a matter of fact, you have been criticised by some as being rather autocratic. Your followers complain that they have been often coerced into Reading textbooks and research.
MR: [waves one hand nonchalantly] I quite fail to see it as my problem. Insofar as I see it, they'll just have to deal with me in whatever way they can. [smirks] Seeing as they can't escape me anyway.
MF: Oh dear. Perhaps this might exlain why in the mean time, Readers have turned to your more charming cousin, Sir Essay Writing. I hear that at least he has been more democratic in dealing with his er. essayists.
MR: Democratic? I hardly think so. He may be as you call it, more "charming", but he is no less demanding than I am. Though I do admit that the effort put in on working on essays are strictly on a voluntary basis. Flattery may get you somewhere with him, but not me. I am not so two-faced. [looks at clock on the wall impatiently] Is it over yet? I did not ask for this ridiculous interview did you know? I am a busy person.
[link terminated]
Thursday, June 28, 2007
A Riot of Colours
I never did get this: why is a bunch of many different colours a "riot"? What? Are they going to rebel?
And when the sunlight struck the window in full force, the coloured glass in it threw forth multiple points of glittering light.
The blues, reds and white decided to get together, against the reds, yellows and greens, throwing the world of colours into great disorder.
Blue: Hey! How come you're on their side too, Red?
Red (to great protest from the oranges): Why ever not? Being on both sides is also a side.
"If you want to talk about sides, then technically, you all should be on mine," adds White.
Red and Blue: Shut up, you!
"If we get together, we can unite and stand against Black," White continues, albeit sulkily.
Hey! Don't get me involved, I'm not a colour! - Black.
Thus, the colours went back to rioting...
And when the sunlight struck the window in full force, the coloured glass in it threw forth multiple points of glittering light.
The blues, reds and white decided to get together, against the reds, yellows and greens, throwing the world of colours into great disorder.
Blue: Hey! How come you're on their side too, Red?
Red (to great protest from the oranges): Why ever not? Being on both sides is also a side.
"If you want to talk about sides, then technically, you all should be on mine," adds White.
Red and Blue: Shut up, you!
"If we get together, we can unite and stand against Black," White continues, albeit sulkily.
Hey! Don't get me involved, I'm not a colour! - Black.
Thus, the colours went back to rioting...
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Ode to Ice-cream on Hot Days
It's hot today. Yesterday night, I left my handphone at my grandmother's house and had to double back after dinner for it. Bought my first blue ice-cream. =D Ate like 3 of them already.
Lovely, lovely, lovely blue ice-cream...
Maybe I should write a sonnet about blue ice-cream... ... What, in any case is a sonnet?
Lovely, lovely, lovely blue ice-cream...
Maybe I should write a sonnet about blue ice-cream... ... What, in any case is a sonnet?
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Umm...
There is a cockraoch. No use denying it. And.. it's perched on the computer plug. I feel itchy when I look at it. Eww. Now, it's decided to move. It's on the table now, near the telephone wire. Heeeelllllpppp!!!!
Ok... before I go to bed, should it be the newspaper or the insecticide? Or both?
Plan A, if everything goes the way it should: whack cockraoch while simultaneously spraying it.
Plan B, in the case cockraoch starts flying around madly: spray spray spray! then whack. and spray again.
Plan C: Run away.
Bye.
Ok... before I go to bed, should it be the newspaper or the insecticide? Or both?
Plan A, if everything goes the way it should: whack cockraoch while simultaneously spraying it.
Plan B, in the case cockraoch starts flying around madly: spray spray spray! then whack. and spray again.
Plan C: Run away.
Bye.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Please... Keep all dancing in virtuality
A bird caught something wiggly today. Then, when I was politely trying not to stare, since I can't abide by wiggly things, the bird hopped over (wiggly thing in tow), and I had to make a wide berth round it. The two cleaners who were walking out of the rubbish dump area stared. Can't blame them.
Then, an over-excited person decided to spray me with water from her cup. An over-enthusiastic twirl from the chair did that. Never knew playing Audition could get you wet... especially when you weren't the one playing... ...
Sometimes, it's easy to feel what it's like in the twilight zone.
Then, an over-excited person decided to spray me with water from her cup. An over-enthusiastic twirl from the chair did that. Never knew playing Audition could get you wet... especially when you weren't the one playing... ...
Sometimes, it's easy to feel what it's like in the twilight zone.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Of ramblings and musings
The deep breath before the leap.
The edge of the cliff.
The space between the frying pan and the fire.
The damne void.
Thou haste reachede the ende of thy roade. Whither will thou go now? To blogge? Or to studye, as a goode student muste? I saye, the ende is also the begininge. Of what? Of depressinge studyynge ande revisione, what else? Buggere alle this. The daye is too beautifule to be spente studyynge. I will blogge insteade; it is a muche bettere occupation to hath.
The edge of the cliff.
The space between the frying pan and the fire.
The damne void.
Thou haste reachede the ende of thy roade. Whither will thou go now? To blogge? Or to studye, as a goode student muste? I saye, the ende is also the begininge. Of what? Of depressinge studyynge ande revisione, what else? Buggere alle this. The daye is too beautifule to be spente studyynge. I will blogge insteade; it is a muche bettere occupation to hath.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Chat with Su.Z
Me: Hello myself, how have you been?
Moi: Not very good I'm afraid. Why?
Me: Oh...nothing...I'm just sick and tired of my essays, work...MORE essays
Moi: Dear dear...it's not like I have it better. For instance, I'm talking to myself...
Me & Moi: True.
Moi: Not very good I'm afraid. Why?
Me: Oh...nothing...I'm just sick and tired of my essays, work...MORE essays
Moi: Dear dear...it's not like I have it better. For instance, I'm talking to myself...
Me & Moi: True.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Pandemonia!
A Short Play by yours truly.
As opposed to a Looooong Post.
Note: The authoress delines to associate herself with the characters you will meet below. Whether they are fictional or not will be up to you.
8:48pm: The brain. There are two white armchairs facing each other across a small table, also white. The furniture is set in a square room with 3 walls, all painted gray. One of the armchair has a box, also white in colour on it. The front of the room is "open" to the audience, i.e. no wall. ficklemiss enters stage right, and sits in the empty armchair.
ficklemiss: [looks around nervously] Did you hear that?
A loud burst of crackling interference from the white box is heard, and ficklemiss jumps nervously again
The other voice in my head (hereafter known as ToViMH): No, hear what?
ficklemiss: Shh! I heard something...didn't you?
ToViMH: No...can't you see I've no ears?
ficklemiss: Ooh! I heard it again! [springs up agitatedly and runs to hide beside the armchair]
ToViMH: I REALLY don't hear anything...
ficklemiss: [peeking from the armchair to stare at ToViMH accusingly] Listen HARDER...now shh!
ToViMH: Wait! I heard something... what's that odd sound?
ficklemis: Elementary, my dear Watson - it's the voice of Hysteria! [laughs]
FIN.
Can't the weekend breeze by? I'm agonising for Monday to come. Damned 24 hr marathon. If we are going to do badly...I'm going to cry...
As opposed to a Looooong Post.
Note: The authoress delines to associate herself with the characters you will meet below. Whether they are fictional or not will be up to you.
8:48pm: The brain. There are two white armchairs facing each other across a small table, also white. The furniture is set in a square room with 3 walls, all painted gray. One of the armchair has a box, also white in colour on it. The front of the room is "open" to the audience, i.e. no wall. ficklemiss enters stage right, and sits in the empty armchair.
ficklemiss: [looks around nervously] Did you hear that?
A loud burst of crackling interference from the white box is heard, and ficklemiss jumps nervously again
The other voice in my head (hereafter known as ToViMH): No, hear what?
ficklemiss: Shh! I heard something...didn't you?
ToViMH: No...can't you see I've no ears?
ficklemiss: Ooh! I heard it again! [springs up agitatedly and runs to hide beside the armchair]
ToViMH: I REALLY don't hear anything...
ficklemiss: [peeking from the armchair to stare at ToViMH accusingly] Listen HARDER...now shh!
ToViMH: Wait! I heard something... what's that odd sound?
ficklemis: Elementary, my dear Watson - it's the voice of Hysteria! [laughs]
FIN.
Can't the weekend breeze by? I'm agonising for Monday to come. Damned 24 hr marathon. If we are going to do badly...I'm going to cry...
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
A Looooong Post
In honour of a friend (who asked for a post), and since it IS her b-day, it'll be a long one. So bear with me.
Thus! We shall begin with Su.Z's very first Looooong Post!!
It was a fine day, as most days are regardless of whatever you may be feeling, which as it happened, can be put simply with this facial expression: a long face. So, to cut a lengthy story short, let's just get on with this verbose post...
This morning, my train journey was delayed for some mysterious reason. Now, I run on a tight schedule trying to get to school on time, and I could not be more relieved when the train started moving after a protracted wait in the dark tunnel. Miraculously, I got to class in time, but that was after a ridiculously ardous climb up Biz Fac. What a horrible place filled with continuous flights of stairs!
So, after a drawn-out day at school, with the end finally in sight, me and a pal decided to take a bus down to Harbourfront for ice-cream. Luckily the slow journey was made better by the unusual perspective provided by us sitting on the upper-deck of the bus. Now, I've never sat on the upper-deck of Bus 10 before, and the view was amazingly different. Makes all the difference when you are tall, I suppose... ...you feel like you are towering over all that strectched out expanse of shorter shophouses before us.
Unfortunately, there wasn't any good ice-cream place at Harbourfront, so we both decided to train down to PS. Yay! Ice-cream! That sweet delight is all the more enticing after that absurdly roundabout bus/train ride. I ordered a Frosted Malt Choc (I think that's what's it's called). It has been noted that prolonged starvation makes food taste way better, and it's true when FNALLY, my sweet treat which I had yearned for appeared magically from thin air in front of me!
Of course not. Duh. What happened to thanking the waiter/waitress who served you your long-awaited meal? Too long has it been since we all indulged in a little courtesy!
We had a wordy discussion on haunted houses (halloween may be over, but it wasn't that way back ago) while waiting for the food to arrive. When it did, we spent so much time laughing that we took an extended time trying to finish our ice-cream.
Well, I got home soon after that. Now, my only desire is that I somehow wrap this post up tidily and go off to bed without typing my fingers off! What a terribly draggy day!
Thus! We shall begin with Su.Z's very first Looooong Post!!
It was a fine day, as most days are regardless of whatever you may be feeling, which as it happened, can be put simply with this facial expression: a long face. So, to cut a lengthy story short, let's just get on with this verbose post...
This morning, my train journey was delayed for some mysterious reason. Now, I run on a tight schedule trying to get to school on time, and I could not be more relieved when the train started moving after a protracted wait in the dark tunnel. Miraculously, I got to class in time, but that was after a ridiculously ardous climb up Biz Fac. What a horrible place filled with continuous flights of stairs!
So, after a drawn-out day at school, with the end finally in sight, me and a pal decided to take a bus down to Harbourfront for ice-cream. Luckily the slow journey was made better by the unusual perspective provided by us sitting on the upper-deck of the bus. Now, I've never sat on the upper-deck of Bus 10 before, and the view was amazingly different. Makes all the difference when you are tall, I suppose... ...you feel like you are towering over all that strectched out expanse of shorter shophouses before us.
Unfortunately, there wasn't any good ice-cream place at Harbourfront, so we both decided to train down to PS. Yay! Ice-cream! That sweet delight is all the more enticing after that absurdly roundabout bus/train ride. I ordered a Frosted Malt Choc (I think that's what's it's called). It has been noted that prolonged starvation makes food taste way better, and it's true when FNALLY, my sweet treat which I had yearned for appeared magically from thin air in front of me!
Of course not. Duh. What happened to thanking the waiter/waitress who served you your long-awaited meal? Too long has it been since we all indulged in a little courtesy!
We had a wordy discussion on haunted houses (halloween may be over, but it wasn't that way back ago) while waiting for the food to arrive. When it did, we spent so much time laughing that we took an extended time trying to finish our ice-cream.
Well, I got home soon after that. Now, my only desire is that I somehow wrap this post up tidily and go off to bed without typing my fingers off! What a terribly draggy day!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
