The Worst Drunk in the World.

Waking up, blurry eyed.

The world’s one gigantic blob because you do not have your spectacles on. That’s when you notice that you’re sitting on the curb… Staring at a Hospital that is across the road. Looking down at your bloody shirt. And you realize that you’re still dribbling blood.

Cue in the audio.

You hear the Girlfriend sobbing beside you. Imploring you to just go into the bloody hospital and get the wound checked.

Cut in the senses (or lack thereof…)

You try to struggle to your feet and realize that you have zero idea how you ended up here.

Survival instincts honed over the years warned you that your first order of business would be to placate the Girlfriend.

Who cares about an Open Wound anyway? I mean the worst thing that can happen would be to bleed to death right? While an Unpacified Girlfriend would bring about serious Consequences.

Note to other Uninformed Boyfriends: Cracking wise about the seriousness of injuries at times like these WILL bring about potentially more life threatening injuries.

I Hate Nature

In case I didn’t make myself completely clear…

I HATE Nature.

There’s just something about being stuck in mosquito infested greenery that really bugs (I amuse myself too much) me. Sure, there are sights in nature that would still leave me awe struck and are sometimes totally breath taken, but I would still prefer my breath taken away not so literally…like, say, on a photo, from some website, in front of a computer screen, in an air conditioned room.

This lil prologue was just a setup for a not so short tale of some ‘quality time’ I’ve decided to spend with the Girlfriend over this weekend.

For some Special Reason, Yours Truly decided that it would be great fun to spend some time with the Girlfriend trekking through a local hill nature walk that had just been refurbished. The Special Reason being I have brains the size of a pea. To further reiterate that point, the deceptively smart Me decided “Hey! This 4 hour long trek is not challenging enough. Why don’t we gorge ourselves on an insane amount of Japanese food before starting the trek at say…3pm when the sun is hottest!”

So you can imagine my perverse delight when at the start of the trail, we find ourselves staring up a stairway with 10000 steps. Haha. Of course, I kid. That was only 1 flight of the entire stairs up the bloody hill. Not that I am complaining, of course.

The Girlfriend also thought that it would be a good time to laden ourselves with a hugeass bottle of water. And I have the great honour of carrying this bottle.

How sweet.

Now’s probably a good time to say that the climb wasn’t the long ardious trudge that I dreaded. It was significantly worsen when a group of youngsters decided that this was a good day to do the same trek so that they can better appreciate the sound of each others’ voices.

They’ve decided that the big discussion about everyone’s new job was best shared with us, the trees, the creepy crawlies in the ground and the birds on the trees… which have all but disappeared because they wanted the amazing jobs the kids were having.

In the end, we managed to get rid of these irritatiants by throwing the hugeass bottle of water at them, thus lightening our load and saving the wildlife from noise pollution at the same time.

Haha. Of course, I kid again.

Being the mature individuals that we are, we did the only sensible thing possible at that moment in time. We LET them ramble past us. Yes, young punks, you’d only managed to overtake us because we wanted some quality time along. The panting was all a big show.

After a long and extremely tiring climb upslope, guess what we discovered? Yup, our friendly public buses actually service the god forsaken route to the top of the hill… But, of course THAT would not be spending quality time together. According to reliable sources of information (random blogs of Authority churned up by google) People who have gone through near death experiences together have been known to forge long and lasting bonds.

Thankfully, the worst part of the ordeal was over, there was just the little matter of walking for 3 odd hours under the blazing sun.

Chicken Shit.

Seriously, the rest of the walk was not so bad. The scenery was nice and the greenery *shudder* was dotted with assorted plants of various colors and shapes. It was a complete change from the concrete blocks of the City in the sense that there was no air conditioning.

Haha. See, how I kid again?

For a while, the change in environment actually made me feel like I was in a totally different time and place. It was a place where all the tension and anxiety built up over the week were temporarily forgotten. It was a place where the low hanging tree branch hit me on the head.

See! Kidding again.

For all the grumping that I’ve been doing, it was seriously not that bad. Aside from a few untruths in advertising (“Stream Garden” HA!) that lead to a lot of wasted steps, it was really quite an experience to get away from the hustle and bustle of the City. The sights were rather nice (and here, I suspect you would enjoy it a lot more than me if you already are a Nature Buff) (As opposed to Natural Buff) (Somebody needs to get the naked images outta my head) . The shutterbug opportunities that presented themselves even managed to coax a curl around the edges of my mouth.

Which the arm twisting Girlfriend is asking me to put down as a “Smile” (as opposed to grimace) and that this paragraph has nothing to do with any arm twisting whatsoever.

Haha. I Kid…

OUCH!

Childhood Dreams

Was watching a program on TV recently (yes, that’s where we get all our education from, isn’t it?). It’s an interview with kids and what they want to be when they grow up. It’s refreshing, in a way, when you hear ol favourite answers such as “astronauts, police, doctors, teachers, reporters” etc…

It’s something that we tend to forget when we “grew up”. It’s something that was thrown out the window when life and pragmatism came along, bowled you over and kicked your teeth out. When you realized that it is “unrealistic” or “not practical” to go for these dreams. That it is more important to satisfy your stomach than it is to fulfill your “kiddish” goals.

Do you still remember what YOU wanted to be when you grow up?

And if I ask you now what you want to be, would your answer be “Rich”?

And what does it mean to be “Rich”, exactly?

Just browsed through a copy of “The 4 Hour Workweek” by Timothy Ferriss recently. He challenged the fact that people want to be rich in cash. He claims that

“$1,000,000 in the bank isn’t the fantasy. The fantasy is the lifestyle of complete freedom it supposedly allows.”

He talked about the “Nouveau Riche”, a class of people that do not want to wait till retirement to enjoy the “fruits of their labor”, but rather using technology and some dirty tricks, earn money while taking “mini retirements” throughout their lives.

Sounds good to me so far.

But the truth of the matter is that a lot of us don’t have the stomach for “dirty tricks”.

According to my favorite Wikipedia, Nouveau Riche (French for “new rich”), or new money, also refers to a person who has acquired considerable wealth within his or her generation. While I disdain people (me included) who slave for money in jobs they loath, I believe a job and job satisfaction are crucial in the overall happiness of a person.

I think some of the happiest people in the world are those that truely enjoy what they are doing. Don’t know how true this is, but apparently Warren “I don’t really need any more money” Buffett was quoted as saying

‘I tap-dance into work, and then I read and talk on the phone for seven or eight hours, and then I go home and read some more,”

I think that would be my perfect definition of Nouveau Riche.

Year of the Bat

This will seem blasphemous to some, but I did not really enjoy “The Dark Knight”

After raving about the hype in a previous post, I felt a bit underwhelmed by the whole experience. “Batman Begins” was an awesome flick. I think that’s partly because it seems like a breath of fresh air after the farce that descended on the whole franchise when Joel Schumacher took over the series. (I shall not bitch about bat nipples and neon villains). We had a tank-like Batmobile, we have Aslan as Ra-shal-gul, we even have a wise cracking Alfred and Lucius Fox. Batman remains as the dark, methodical bastard that he is, but we could still see glimpses of Bruce Wayne.

“Dark Knight”, however is a dark, dark flick with nothing to counter balance it. The plot is semi-deep (which is twice as deep as most Hollywood fare these days) and there seems to be no end to the blanket of doom and gloom that envelops the whole show. Batman (and the denizens of Gotham, of course) just keeps finding himself mired in deeper and stickier layers of shit as the movie progresses.

You’d think that the presence of the Joker will elevate that. After all, he is created to be the Super ego to Batman’s Id. He is wild abandonment compared to Batman’s cold calculations. He is everything that Batman is not. In other words, the Joker is supposed to be fun.

No offense to the dead guy,(preparing for more gasps of disapproval…) but this will always be my Joker.

“Ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?”

Kudos for Harvey Dent though. He is definitely one of the most 3 dimensional character in the show. Because we are the sadistic bastards that we are, we all love the story of a fall from grace. “Schadenfreuder”, if I remember my Boston Legal correctly. Huge Kudos for the design of Two-Face too. Don’t think I could’ve sat through another one of this…

On other news, (warning: HUGE geek alert), NEIL GAIMAN IS WRITING BATMAN!!!

And if I did not make myself clear on that statement,

WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!!!

Right, now that we have that out of the way.

I know, I know. It is probably more of a marketing move than a creative one. I mean, there are fanboys out that who will just buy ANYTHING that Gaiman even scribbles on right? So Batman + Gaiman =  Ka-ching, Kaching.

Having said that, this is not the first time Gaiman wrote Batman. If memory serves me right, he actually wrote some tales about the bats that was collected in Batman: Black and White, along with other stories from Frank Miller and such.

Don’t remember the story, but I don’t remember it as particularly outstanding. Which can be looked at from both ways.

But that’s the thing about anthology short stories. They don’t really have time to grow. I know some of the best stories are the shortest ones. But I also believe in the rewarding of loyal readers. To be there from the start of an epic and looking at all the pieces coming together after a long build up is something else altogether.

Gaiman’s take on Batman will come by after Grant Morrison’s arc that is ominously named “Batman R.I.P.” I have no idea how long Gaiman’s arc on Batman will be, but I hope that it has time to grow and mature..

And that the Joker’s in it…

And that it involves no Bat nipples.

I HAVE to do that

Oh right, if it warms your cockles to (probably) see Batman tears (literally) someone a new one, there’s also this lil thing coming up…

Yeeeesh….