Help! Friends! A guinea pig tricked me!

From Amazon.co.uk:

We found no matches for "beijing rocks" . Below are results for "racks" . If you prefer, you may try another search.

barefoot in the park

KLPac in Sentul West Park, to be precise.
Collecting dust and dirt and debris and all kinds of microscopic worms, as I walk around Pentas 2 lifting carpets.

Website of the day:
What's That Bug

'Guys will fuck anything!'

(5 minutes later, after intense discussion)
'Well, I would fuck anything soft and relatively female.'

The Housemate Returns

The news that David Mills, British David to some and irksome ingrate to me, was not met with celebrations or salutations. Yours truly was enjoying her Sunday morning coffee in her room when she heard someone come in, and she assumed it was Kevin (This is slightly dangerous - if I were to assume every possible noise in my house originates from a housemate, my body might be found in a ditch somewhere in Bangsar, God forbid). Having finished said coffee and hearing noises from next door (which she takes to be a very loud neighbour), she traipses downstairs with pleasant thoughts in her head, only to see an ominous black briefcase. This is bad, she thought, this is really b...why, HELLO Sarah, how are we today? Her heart drops, because this spells the end of quiet days in.

But, really, how bad can David Mills be? Nevermind that he lies on his special couch in front of the tv like a ginger beached whale by way of Titien's 'Venus d'Urbino'; nevermind that he probably spends the whole day preparing an arsenal of insults to pepper me with, knowing full well I come home tired and ill-prepared to retort; nevermind that his relationship advice only consists of gin & tonics + nudity - it's just his unerring way of knowing how to GET to me that really pisses me off. Also, that I am slowly absorbing and inadvertently displaying his mannerisms, which Sara says is a MASSIVE turn-off.

Classic DM Quotes:
'Ooh, I'm going to have to lock my bedroom door tonight. Wouldn't want you girls having your wicked way with me, because I am a sexy man.'

'When I walk down the streets of Bangkok, all the women go Hello Sexy Man!'

'Yep, that's what they call me - Strawberry-blond Adonis.'

'Why do women wear perfume and makeup? Because they stink and they're ugly!'

'Why do women have such small feet? So they can be closer to the stove!'

'I suppose that can be my nickname...Beachy-Whaley.'

I look forward to toast in the morning - toast with slices of cold butter on one side, pandan kaya on the other, and then I fold it down the middle and take bites in between sipping instant coffee and reading magazines. I get to work half an hour late every single day but no one seems to care. When I go home, I have more toast because it is the most comforting thing in the world.

My life is a series of depressingly normal events, linked together by loneliness and despair and lots of toast.

goddamn weekend

I'm in the office on a rainy sunday afternoon, and it doesn't feel good at all. The only bright spot in all this haze and general muckiness is that my car is finally getting a wash, and Charlie & The Chocolate Factory is finally out in cinemas.

The ideal song for a shitty weekend:
Gloomy Sunday, a lush live cover by Bjork.

I haven't been updating...

Because they have moved me from my cosy but antisocial little corner in the back office out to the main office for all the world to see, where I have to share the internet connection. Also, I don't like typing blog entries when people can look over my shoulder. I did have something interesting to say but the haze has made me rather groggy and ill-tempered. Anyway, hopefully I will find time to sit in a cafe and ponder over pointless questions.

Note to Coffeebean: Change your goddamn playlist.

2 days ago:
I am in BSC Coffeebean using their wifi which is meant to be password protected and you need an account to log into, but they're obviously vvv crap at this security thing because I have breached it.
Also, they obviously do NOT change their playlist very often, because I have heard that odious 'Changes' song by Ozzy Osbourne and his fat daughter being played EVERYTIME, morning and night, that I am here. And I am here often.

Other songs on the playlist include:
Sweet Child O Mine - Guns n Roses
I Dont Wanna Miss a Thing - Aerosmith, and other Aerosmith songs
Zombie, and assorted Cranberry songs

Now:
Is there a Cranberry revival going on that I don't know about? Midvalley Coffeebean was playing the same set of Cranberries songs; the management must distribute the Best Of album by the truckload to the various outlets. I ask you, who wants to listen to Dolores O'Riordan yodelling in the the background while sipping caffe lattes? I imagine coffee outlets aim for some measure of class when designing optimal coffee-drinking environments, so whywhywhy must they play such trash? Even the ubiquitous and yuppie-baiting Cafe del mar compilations would be preferable to the hamfisted thunderings of 'Zombie'. If I were a coffee outlet manager, I'd be playing lots of Nick Drake and Love.

I did a search for 'Wild Horses' on my Itunes, and I have 7 versions of it, including the original by the Rolling Stones.

Here's another version, covered live by Elvis Costello with background vocals by the excellent Lucinda Williams.
(Yes, I know this is the 2nd 'Wild Horses' cover featured on this site. It really is a most perfect song!)

And a Lucinda Williams' song, from her 'World Without Tears' album - Righteously.

Day in Haiku

Rain scrubbed away smoke
A soft-screen morning journey
Down busy highways.

Stopped to fill petrol:
Having forgotten how to -
Most embarrassing.

Office paper fumes
Fanned by recycled air -
I breathe in deeply

And march to the room
Met by questioning blankness
Told nothing to do.

So I did nothing
Most of the early morning
Makes you wonder really...

Is that life
in the office?
A series of doing nothing
And nothing
And nothing.

Post-lunch, I stroll in
Amongst the whispered phonecalls
A dog runs up stairs.

No one blinks an eye
At the offending canine -
Are dogs welcome here?

The owner crimson
clothes-clad, cheeks unaffected
Calls for the creature

Who bounds out the door
Into the hazy sunshine
I retreat inside.