Remember when downloading used to be fun and free? Everyone had napster, the original napster.. people were downloading tunes, and we all felt we were a apart of an MP3 community, sticking it to the record industry - revolucionarios! I used spend hours in front of the computer at my place, with whomever just trying to remember music and downloading it.. it was from these insane screen sessions that we remembered too shy by kajagoogoo, midlife crisis by faith no more, absolutely kelly street by frente, all sorts of great random tunes. We found secret ultrahush white labels, we found dubbed up dubs of rubadubdub, we found fun for our eardrums. La musica was, fresh and happy, but like guns n roses play it “nothing lasts forever” - Those damn bastards from Metallica decided that they wanted to make money off their music that was being transferred, and decided to take whomever they could to court. In the midst of this whole hell-storm of litigation, napster started getting trickier, people were misspelling the information on the tracks you could download to avoid getting caught.. stuff was becoming harder to find, life became crappy…
And then something brilliant happened.. someone invented another peer to peer file sharing software that found a loophole in the legality of it all: being registered outside the US and sometimes giving you popups and stuff like that.. Soon everyone had migrated from Napster to morpheus until that got old, then they switched to Aries until that got old, and then edonkey and then kazaa then kazaa lite then limewire, and so on and so forth.. people’s conversations at the time sounded a little something like this, “hey so what do you use to download?” “oh I use bumfloss beta 2.0” “is that any good?” “aww hell yeah dude, it’s amazing, you get music, videos, games, pictures, you can download anything even viruses..” It was also during this time that people stopped just downloading music, and got involved in downloading videos.. At the time, downloading videos had one clearly defined purpose: pornography, nothing else.. The internet video porn traffic boomed, if you could’ve traded that index, think of the returns.. Milfhunter and the bangbus crew became world famous, overnight. Now you could finally complete your rocco siffredi collection with Rocco Mauls Mozambique. Gigabytes and gigabytes of videos were bouncing around peoples bandwidth ranging from sexy shit, to sick shit, to weird shit, to funny shit, to classic shit, and illegal in some states shit… life was good for all men and some women, but mainly men…
It didn’t take long for Steve “I gotta get me some of dat” Jobs to announce his solution to illegal downloading: Itunes hits computers globally, his ipods take over peoples ears, and all of a sudden the industry is making money off downloaded music. Obscure musicians even turn to leaking their music on the internet in the hope of becoming famous, and many have.. a dollar a tune was worth it for many and it was legal.. I don’t really know how many songs have been downloaded over itunes, I remember reading some large number but really couldn’t care less – some impressively huge number though.. But you have to give Jobs credit.. he made money off making music downloads legal and he made you buy his device to listen to your newly purchased music, now that’s pure “giving them what they didn’t know they wanted but desperately needed” genius...
So what’s next? Lets get on the whole video downloading bandwagon!! and that’s just what the world did.. Supercool large file sharing applications like BitTorrent were born and now you could actually download full length movies or episodes of your favorite TV show.. the newest episode of Lost airs tonight, tomorrow morning people are downloading it and then uploading it into their personal video players to watch on the train ride to work, during their lunch break, taking it over on their hard disks to watch it with friends, making copies for people, burning it on a dvd to watch it on their tv.. Technically I’m sure this is illegal, but this new type of heavy peer to peer fiending is taking over the internet and you have to acknowledge their growing numbers.. People are up to date on what’s happening in the Sopranos, Lost, 24, the Unit, the Shield, Home Garden Tv, etc.. Itunes realized that they can make money off this too and have now allowed people to legally purchase episodes, touché stevie, touché..
I know a couple of these bandwidth bandits, I was hanging out with one of them last night, and his addiction to downloading these tv shows was somewhat frightening.. he couldn’t wait to rewatch the episode of this show because the new one was coming out on this day and then he has this download and the season finale of that and then there’s the other new show that he’s heard so much about.. I’ve seen a lot of addictions in my relatively short life, but this one, was pretty scary..
Another internet impresario worthy of mention is the high priest of the temple.. a couple of months ago this guy had 2 terabytes of personal storage space (that’s over 2 thousand gigabytes – roughly 33 and a third 60 gigabyte ipods) filled with everything and anything your little mind desires: documentaries, tv shows, serial dramas, animes, movies, videogames, pictures, files, stories, you name it, really, just name it. His storage space has probably now doubled in size, (cue in celestial gregorian chanting)..
So where does this leave me? behind in everything.. I’ll still be reminiscing about dancing around to “Too.. shy shy, hush hush, eye to eye” while people are downloading virtual girlfriends… the internet is taking so many twists and turns and if you just pause to see how far we’ve come in the last 2,5,10 years years, you’d be flabbergasted (I like the sound of that fla-bber-gas-ted..)
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Thursday, May 18, 2006
of the Week
Outcome of the Week
The Arsenal lost the champions league final.. in a bout of bad refereeing the gunners managed to hold onto their lead for the first 75 minutes; but being a man down and playing against Barcelona in such a high intensity game, we could not hold that crazy Swede Henrik Larsson.. The lads played their hearts out and my phone never stopped ringing last night with acknowledgements of awe about our spirit.. I am slightly bitter, but this will pass (would’ve liked to come to the office with a reason for bags under my eyes). Some people might rejoice in the fact that my team lost, to you people: up yours (you know who you are), actually I’m pretty fine, if my favorite team wasn’t going to win the Champions League final, my second favorite team winning it is the next best thing. For all you distraught Arsenal fans: our squad was primarily made up of under 25 year olds and we went to the final, we played our hearts out and we’ve made a boatload of money. They called this our transition year, our youngsters took us to the final and we’re gonna play in the tournament next year again, I’ll accept that. Barsa: Although I’m still not convinced of Frank as a coach, it’s about time this team stood up and accepted the title of the best in Europe. (Deco’s a champion, everywhere he goes, he wins it all & kudos to Ludovic Guily: he deserved that medal more than anyone else – just cause he never had his chance against porto two years ago). I upheld my end of the celebrations and lamentations: Breakfast has been served, everyone ate, I am the benevolent football fanatic.
Official announcement of the Week
This morning was the official start of summer for me.. I could feel it coming: the heat, the shorts, the humidity.. but today was the official mark of the season in my book because I loaded the car with some classic summer tunes.. listening to 10cc, Wham, Miami Sound Machine, B-52s, some classic Santana, and so much more (I know, incredibly cheesy, but the thing is you cannot beat rhythm is gonna get you…) I don't understand it, but i associate summer music with Miami in the 1980s a la anthony montana. The short sleeve summer shirts are coming out, the slippers and flip flops are out, the swimming trunks, towel, t-shirt and goggles are in the car.. anyone up for the beach on Saturday? I don’t like Cricket!!! Ohno.. I LOVE IT!!
Musical discovery of the Week
I discovered something new the other day and am interested to find out more.. I heard about Juma Sultan, a famous jazz Percussionist who’s played with the greatest of the greatest. He was also a member of the short lived, Gypsy Suns and Rainbows, Jimi Hendrix’s band.. Their biggest concert was at Woodstock in 1969 (yes, the Woodstock). The only reason I’m so surprised and interested, is that Juma, is such a Khaleeji (Arabian Gulf) mainly Bahraini or Kuwaiti name.. Juma moved to the states in 1965 (doesn’t say from where), and he played the congas, bongos, piano, saxophone, baritone saxaphone, and a few others.. That is just so unbelievably awesome.. Jimi Hendrix, the greatest of all time, had a guy named Juma banging on some bongos for him.. I don’t know but this guy sounds like he could’ve been from this part of the world. I’ve already met Mirza Al Sharif (famous Bahraini Percussionist who played with Santana), now I’m curious to find out about Juma.. if you’ve got info, pass it on.. Apparently Juma was the guy that introduced Jimi to Buddy Miles and Miles Davis.. now that’s pretty cool.. “milo, meet jimi, jimi milo. solid.“
Random discovery of the Week
I don’t like mushrooms on my cheeseburgers.. I like mushrooms on my pizza, in my pasta, in my dishes, even raw in my salad.. but mushrooms on my burger never work out right for me.. I can do mushrooms in my steak and cheese, but not in my burger.. I think the problem is that when they pile on the sautéed mushrooms, they never properly get dispersed on your burger, leaving you with mushroom bulges under the bun (that just sounded funny rereading it).. Grilled onions on my burger, now that’s a completely different story.. Completely different story..
Khhotness of the Week
Chai Karak drinkin’, vice pink dress wearin’, multi-national cell phone luggin’, no chicken eatin’ babes.. yeah…
The Arsenal lost the champions league final.. in a bout of bad refereeing the gunners managed to hold onto their lead for the first 75 minutes; but being a man down and playing against Barcelona in such a high intensity game, we could not hold that crazy Swede Henrik Larsson.. The lads played their hearts out and my phone never stopped ringing last night with acknowledgements of awe about our spirit.. I am slightly bitter, but this will pass (would’ve liked to come to the office with a reason for bags under my eyes). Some people might rejoice in the fact that my team lost, to you people: up yours (you know who you are), actually I’m pretty fine, if my favorite team wasn’t going to win the Champions League final, my second favorite team winning it is the next best thing. For all you distraught Arsenal fans: our squad was primarily made up of under 25 year olds and we went to the final, we played our hearts out and we’ve made a boatload of money. They called this our transition year, our youngsters took us to the final and we’re gonna play in the tournament next year again, I’ll accept that. Barsa: Although I’m still not convinced of Frank as a coach, it’s about time this team stood up and accepted the title of the best in Europe. (Deco’s a champion, everywhere he goes, he wins it all & kudos to Ludovic Guily: he deserved that medal more than anyone else – just cause he never had his chance against porto two years ago). I upheld my end of the celebrations and lamentations: Breakfast has been served, everyone ate, I am the benevolent football fanatic.
Official announcement of the Week
This morning was the official start of summer for me.. I could feel it coming: the heat, the shorts, the humidity.. but today was the official mark of the season in my book because I loaded the car with some classic summer tunes.. listening to 10cc, Wham, Miami Sound Machine, B-52s, some classic Santana, and so much more (I know, incredibly cheesy, but the thing is you cannot beat rhythm is gonna get you…) I don't understand it, but i associate summer music with Miami in the 1980s a la anthony montana. The short sleeve summer shirts are coming out, the slippers and flip flops are out, the swimming trunks, towel, t-shirt and goggles are in the car.. anyone up for the beach on Saturday? I don’t like Cricket!!! Ohno.. I LOVE IT!!
Musical discovery of the Week
I discovered something new the other day and am interested to find out more.. I heard about Juma Sultan, a famous jazz Percussionist who’s played with the greatest of the greatest. He was also a member of the short lived, Gypsy Suns and Rainbows, Jimi Hendrix’s band.. Their biggest concert was at Woodstock in 1969 (yes, the Woodstock). The only reason I’m so surprised and interested, is that Juma, is such a Khaleeji (Arabian Gulf) mainly Bahraini or Kuwaiti name.. Juma moved to the states in 1965 (doesn’t say from where), and he played the congas, bongos, piano, saxophone, baritone saxaphone, and a few others.. That is just so unbelievably awesome.. Jimi Hendrix, the greatest of all time, had a guy named Juma banging on some bongos for him.. I don’t know but this guy sounds like he could’ve been from this part of the world. I’ve already met Mirza Al Sharif (famous Bahraini Percussionist who played with Santana), now I’m curious to find out about Juma.. if you’ve got info, pass it on.. Apparently Juma was the guy that introduced Jimi to Buddy Miles and Miles Davis.. now that’s pretty cool.. “milo, meet jimi, jimi milo. solid.“
Random discovery of the Week
I don’t like mushrooms on my cheeseburgers.. I like mushrooms on my pizza, in my pasta, in my dishes, even raw in my salad.. but mushrooms on my burger never work out right for me.. I can do mushrooms in my steak and cheese, but not in my burger.. I think the problem is that when they pile on the sautéed mushrooms, they never properly get dispersed on your burger, leaving you with mushroom bulges under the bun (that just sounded funny rereading it).. Grilled onions on my burger, now that’s a completely different story.. Completely different story..
Khhotness of the Week
Chai Karak drinkin’, vice pink dress wearin’, multi-national cell phone luggin’, no chicken eatin’ babes.. yeah…
Monday, May 15, 2006
Paris: a city, a babe, a dead trojan, & champions league glory
Sometime in the fall of 2004 I asked myself a question.. What if Arsenal (favorite team in the whole wide world) played Barcelona (2nd favorite team in the whole wide world). Who would I cheer for? Would I be sad? How would I deal with the victory? It’s not a decision most people really think about in the course of their life.. I mean they are two footballing juggernauts in their own respective countries, what were the chances of them meeting up in a European Cup Final (not impossible, but I hadn’t experienced it in my lifetime). On May 17th, 2006, in Paris, one night only, my two favorite football teams in the world will square away against each other in the most prestigious yearly football tournament on the planet.. I started to think long and hard about whom I’d support.
a little london team history
I started my love affair with arsenal at the youthful age of 7. It was Christmas time and we were at a family friend’s house for lunch, I pulled a cracker and won an Arsenal badge.. the cannon on the crest excited my fascination with all things army related.. Since it was Liverpool’s reign, I was naturally watching Ian Rush score his goals – so my Arsenal support was subdued for a couple of years. That was until the end of the football season 1989, this time 17 years ago (give or take a couple of weeks). English football was always recapped on Monday nights on Bahrain TV, and 1989 was the year the Arsenal beat Liverpool at Anfield by two extra goals (go on Alan Smith!!) on the last day of the season to win the league from right under Liverpool’s noses. It was from then on, that I became a Gunner. Watching a spectacular victory like that, the intensity of the game, the pure magic that poured into those 90 minutes, oh and a Christmas cracker with a badge and a cannon on it – how could I not be a fan.. I still have the badge.. After that, my fascination with football blossomed and took on different twists and turns. I tasted victory and I had my fair share of defeat. The Gunners were a medium sized London team with a lot of history, and I was a part of that history watching Ian Wright break the club’s goal scoring record, Thierry Henry then breaking Wrighty’s record, Limpar breaking off from the right with the ball, the Gamble on Overmars and the payback, the counter attacks, Paddy and Manu pulling the strings. Gilles Grimandi with a wild punch at Deigo Simeone. Pires winning me over with the equalizing goal against tottenham, and the equalizing away goal against Lazio. The Absolute Genius that is Dennis Nicolaas Bergkamp (the classiest of classy footballers). The famous back line, with Bouldie’s composed defending, Tony Adams leadership on the pitch, Lee Dixon for making the right back his postion.. David Platt, one of my favorite midfielders ever. When we stole Sol Campbell from Spurs for free. Secretly loving/hating Safe Hands Seaman. I can go on and on.. I’ve left things out I’m sure.. how about the ghosts of players that never had their chance: The alex mannigers, paolo vernazzas, nelson vivas, Christopher wrehs, remi gardes, graham barrets, and junichi inamotos.. you are not forgotten my friends.. (I came so close to buying a vernazza jersey once, just to cheer the lad on, they then sold him to Watford or something like that).. The real change in my love for Arsenal was when they purchased Bergkamp from Inter. Nothing sounded better to my ears that hearing the crowds chant “We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp, We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp!!” (I can still hear you singing, Andy).. This season’s performance in the league has been disappointing at times, but we did make it to the champions league next season, and we have made it to the Champions league Final this season.. We’re building a team for the future, and with most of our squad under 25, we are looking very good for the coming seasons.. very very good.
hope in Elefant Blau
Then there’s Barcelona, the Catalan team that stole my heart in the early 90s with Cruyff’s dream team.. My loving relationship with Barcelona didn’t just happen because of a Catalan variant of Dutch Total Football. The Catalan are a proud people, and I fell in love with that pride,, at times making me feel like it was my pride too. Maybe cause Catalunya carried Spain on its shoulders economically, maybe because of the fact that Franco loved Madrid and he often showed it by bending the rules in their favor, or how about the only place the Catalan could speak their language freely was in their stadium. How about the fact that FC Barcelona, in its 100 plus year history have never had a sponsor (something that will eventually change) on their Jersey.. why? Because the fans are not just fans, the Nou Camp is a symbol of the Catalunya and its people, you cannot tarnish the Azulgrana with a corporate sponsor.. That all aside, you cannot tell me you cannot fall in love with a team that has boasted players such as: Koeman, Guardiola, Laudrup, Stoichkov, Romario, Diego Armando Maradona, Ronaldo, Johan Cruyff, Lineker, Haji, Zubizaretta, Luis Enrique, Nadal, Sergi, Rivaldo, Cocu, and I’m not even getting into the current squad: RONNIE! I fell in love with their history, got angered at the treatment over the whole Alfredo Di Stefano Fiasco (yeah we know the truth Madrid). I watched them go from the great ol days of Nunez’s presidency to the what the hell is going on days of Gaspart and now the weary stability of Laporta. I felt the pain inside me grow as Barcelona were mismanaged, they were spending money buying players but just couldn’t do it.. They were caving into demands from players such as Patrick Kluivert, making him the highest paid player. Then came the shocking pain associated with watching them neglect Luis Figo and watching him go to Madrid.. all the power to Figo, I still love him, but the pain was a lot to bear.. or how about the incredible elation of watching Rivaldo with that scissor kick goal the last day of the season to squeeze Barsa past Valencia into the Champions league for the following season.. Barcelona quickly filled my heart with love.. Watching them win this season making it back to back championships brings tears to my eyes.. for my college years I had to endure my Madrid friends rubbing their victories in my face.. Watching Zidane score that amazing and I mean amazing goal for Real Madrid while Barsa just looked lost in la liga.. Barcelona is finally back to it’s winning days and I cannot be happier.
And now my predicament.. who to support? I know Arsenal are the underdogs, but a Champions league victory would be an incredible feat to celebrate.. Plus, memories of the 2000 UEFA cup final against Galatasaray have resurfaced and I am in pain.. A victory would quell these nightmares relived.. Barcelona have won their second league title in a row, this is evidence of their dominance of Spanish football right now.. However; there is that small part of me inside that wants to call them Madrillenos and laugh at their losses and boast Barsa’s victories.. it’s a tough decision… but I have decided to support the Arsenal on this one.. Arsenal are the underdogs, if anyone needs this championship it’s them.. I’d love to see Theirry lift the cup in Paris in front of his home crowd and stamp his brilliance on the European game.. That said, for 90 minutes I will support Arsenal, I will cheer them on, I will yell, shout, scream, laugh, maniacally wave my hands in the air, dance, and weep (hopefully not).. once the game is over, I only see it as a win win situation for me..
I don't even want to get into the hype cause i can write another three posts about that alone..
Oh and since it’s my two favorite teams,,, breakfast on Thursday May 18th is on me… you just need to show up to the 8th floor for some tasty tidbits. I know my coworkers are pleased about that.
I’ve now solved who I’m going to support, now I need to decide where I’m going to watch the game.. GOONMYSON!!
COME ON ARSENAL!!!!
a little london team history
I started my love affair with arsenal at the youthful age of 7. It was Christmas time and we were at a family friend’s house for lunch, I pulled a cracker and won an Arsenal badge.. the cannon on the crest excited my fascination with all things army related.. Since it was Liverpool’s reign, I was naturally watching Ian Rush score his goals – so my Arsenal support was subdued for a couple of years. That was until the end of the football season 1989, this time 17 years ago (give or take a couple of weeks). English football was always recapped on Monday nights on Bahrain TV, and 1989 was the year the Arsenal beat Liverpool at Anfield by two extra goals (go on Alan Smith!!) on the last day of the season to win the league from right under Liverpool’s noses. It was from then on, that I became a Gunner. Watching a spectacular victory like that, the intensity of the game, the pure magic that poured into those 90 minutes, oh and a Christmas cracker with a badge and a cannon on it – how could I not be a fan.. I still have the badge.. After that, my fascination with football blossomed and took on different twists and turns. I tasted victory and I had my fair share of defeat. The Gunners were a medium sized London team with a lot of history, and I was a part of that history watching Ian Wright break the club’s goal scoring record, Thierry Henry then breaking Wrighty’s record, Limpar breaking off from the right with the ball, the Gamble on Overmars and the payback, the counter attacks, Paddy and Manu pulling the strings. Gilles Grimandi with a wild punch at Deigo Simeone. Pires winning me over with the equalizing goal against tottenham, and the equalizing away goal against Lazio. The Absolute Genius that is Dennis Nicolaas Bergkamp (the classiest of classy footballers). The famous back line, with Bouldie’s composed defending, Tony Adams leadership on the pitch, Lee Dixon for making the right back his postion.. David Platt, one of my favorite midfielders ever. When we stole Sol Campbell from Spurs for free. Secretly loving/hating Safe Hands Seaman. I can go on and on.. I’ve left things out I’m sure.. how about the ghosts of players that never had their chance: The alex mannigers, paolo vernazzas, nelson vivas, Christopher wrehs, remi gardes, graham barrets, and junichi inamotos.. you are not forgotten my friends.. (I came so close to buying a vernazza jersey once, just to cheer the lad on, they then sold him to Watford or something like that).. The real change in my love for Arsenal was when they purchased Bergkamp from Inter. Nothing sounded better to my ears that hearing the crowds chant “We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp, We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp!!” (I can still hear you singing, Andy).. This season’s performance in the league has been disappointing at times, but we did make it to the champions league next season, and we have made it to the Champions league Final this season.. We’re building a team for the future, and with most of our squad under 25, we are looking very good for the coming seasons.. very very good.
hope in Elefant Blau
Then there’s Barcelona, the Catalan team that stole my heart in the early 90s with Cruyff’s dream team.. My loving relationship with Barcelona didn’t just happen because of a Catalan variant of Dutch Total Football. The Catalan are a proud people, and I fell in love with that pride,, at times making me feel like it was my pride too. Maybe cause Catalunya carried Spain on its shoulders economically, maybe because of the fact that Franco loved Madrid and he often showed it by bending the rules in their favor, or how about the only place the Catalan could speak their language freely was in their stadium. How about the fact that FC Barcelona, in its 100 plus year history have never had a sponsor (something that will eventually change) on their Jersey.. why? Because the fans are not just fans, the Nou Camp is a symbol of the Catalunya and its people, you cannot tarnish the Azulgrana with a corporate sponsor.. That all aside, you cannot tell me you cannot fall in love with a team that has boasted players such as: Koeman, Guardiola, Laudrup, Stoichkov, Romario, Diego Armando Maradona, Ronaldo, Johan Cruyff, Lineker, Haji, Zubizaretta, Luis Enrique, Nadal, Sergi, Rivaldo, Cocu, and I’m not even getting into the current squad: RONNIE! I fell in love with their history, got angered at the treatment over the whole Alfredo Di Stefano Fiasco (yeah we know the truth Madrid). I watched them go from the great ol days of Nunez’s presidency to the what the hell is going on days of Gaspart and now the weary stability of Laporta. I felt the pain inside me grow as Barcelona were mismanaged, they were spending money buying players but just couldn’t do it.. They were caving into demands from players such as Patrick Kluivert, making him the highest paid player. Then came the shocking pain associated with watching them neglect Luis Figo and watching him go to Madrid.. all the power to Figo, I still love him, but the pain was a lot to bear.. or how about the incredible elation of watching Rivaldo with that scissor kick goal the last day of the season to squeeze Barsa past Valencia into the Champions league for the following season.. Barcelona quickly filled my heart with love.. Watching them win this season making it back to back championships brings tears to my eyes.. for my college years I had to endure my Madrid friends rubbing their victories in my face.. Watching Zidane score that amazing and I mean amazing goal for Real Madrid while Barsa just looked lost in la liga.. Barcelona is finally back to it’s winning days and I cannot be happier.
And now my predicament.. who to support? I know Arsenal are the underdogs, but a Champions league victory would be an incredible feat to celebrate.. Plus, memories of the 2000 UEFA cup final against Galatasaray have resurfaced and I am in pain.. A victory would quell these nightmares relived.. Barcelona have won their second league title in a row, this is evidence of their dominance of Spanish football right now.. However; there is that small part of me inside that wants to call them Madrillenos and laugh at their losses and boast Barsa’s victories.. it’s a tough decision… but I have decided to support the Arsenal on this one.. Arsenal are the underdogs, if anyone needs this championship it’s them.. I’d love to see Theirry lift the cup in Paris in front of his home crowd and stamp his brilliance on the European game.. That said, for 90 minutes I will support Arsenal, I will cheer them on, I will yell, shout, scream, laugh, maniacally wave my hands in the air, dance, and weep (hopefully not).. once the game is over, I only see it as a win win situation for me..
I don't even want to get into the hype cause i can write another three posts about that alone..
Oh and since it’s my two favorite teams,,, breakfast on Thursday May 18th is on me… you just need to show up to the 8th floor for some tasty tidbits. I know my coworkers are pleased about that.
I’ve now solved who I’m going to support, now I need to decide where I’m going to watch the game.. GOONMYSON!!
COME ON ARSENAL!!!!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
the cameo of cameos
free crack and everyone gets laid
I let spontaneity be my guide and that’s the reason for my demise. I am under house arrest (a better word than grounded). The case: feeding my need for speed. Tonight bahraini guy’s invitation to appear as his guest is the only way to nourish my madness.
10 pm. kissed my mother good night and locked myself in my room, immersed in ablution contemplating every scheme in the book to break out of the house. Took a good look down from the balcony, testing the fall, threw down my brother’s stupid cat to see how she lands. Boredom postponed, no broken bones. Fought the faithful donkey in a hurry and bid him farewell. Tied everything together into a rope, climbed the Azalea bush and jumped over the wall into a furry red cab with Harshit the driver.
Monstrous black line around my eye, question mark drawn on a course cloth. Like wind to my endless story, we head to Al Ain, club 44. Looking out to black dunes, flimsy girls picking dates of nakhl trees looking for a magic gang bang, cowboy ghosts rise from the grave to play, feet tied, chain in hands. Between them and oasis full of love.
Arrived at the door, the kandoora asked me for the code. Grasped my ankles to worship an ironic Japanese number seven. He let me in and complemented me on my lilac beret. Club 44 is a bizarre place. Rappers cum belly dancers cum locals cum model chicks cum drag queens and me. A melting pot melting together underground with Mike Jones on the mic. Walked back to a room called little Vegas to gamble for a new car. Like a winning dog with fantasy ambitions I sipped the venom of an origami viper. Played backgammon with the resident sheikh promising hope on the ticking quartz. Restless and peerless in my farewell posture I said amen to club 44.
Hopped into a limo only to find the prince of Borneo. Asked the driver to head to Umm al Quwain to a dirty club called XXX. Employed a play on words, sharp as a cutting tool. For a period of time talked like a flashing light with special delights that drove him wild. Was he a friend or foe. I’ll never know. Everyone bowed as we entered the club. Our table ready, Krystal on ice, that’s nice. Amplified night lamps, brilliantly colored. Fat girls on stage jiggled their body parts to Tchaikovsky’s ballet suite. The place was cramped with men in suits packing velvet revolvers endlessly vogue. Their instruments of communication.
Zero hour applauded the bell ringer. It was time to put on my archer attire with bows in my quiver. Unchained my excited animal, turbo in my engine, left the club. Ran into a blind mudslinger, in Braille he showed me a fast way home. With ping pong pulse I climbed the wall. Like a rodent on a Ferris wheel, my vision warped, I fell to the floor. Woke up majrooh in a marjooha, my fate I believe was a thief.
So, the moral of the story as once said by Timothy Leary is “turn on, tune in, dropout”.
And thanks to Bahraini for giving me the opportunity to have a little fun with myself and I on a Thursday night.
I let spontaneity be my guide and that’s the reason for my demise. I am under house arrest (a better word than grounded). The case: feeding my need for speed. Tonight bahraini guy’s invitation to appear as his guest is the only way to nourish my madness.
10 pm. kissed my mother good night and locked myself in my room, immersed in ablution contemplating every scheme in the book to break out of the house. Took a good look down from the balcony, testing the fall, threw down my brother’s stupid cat to see how she lands. Boredom postponed, no broken bones. Fought the faithful donkey in a hurry and bid him farewell. Tied everything together into a rope, climbed the Azalea bush and jumped over the wall into a furry red cab with Harshit the driver.
Monstrous black line around my eye, question mark drawn on a course cloth. Like wind to my endless story, we head to Al Ain, club 44. Looking out to black dunes, flimsy girls picking dates of nakhl trees looking for a magic gang bang, cowboy ghosts rise from the grave to play, feet tied, chain in hands. Between them and oasis full of love.
Arrived at the door, the kandoora asked me for the code. Grasped my ankles to worship an ironic Japanese number seven. He let me in and complemented me on my lilac beret. Club 44 is a bizarre place. Rappers cum belly dancers cum locals cum model chicks cum drag queens and me. A melting pot melting together underground with Mike Jones on the mic. Walked back to a room called little Vegas to gamble for a new car. Like a winning dog with fantasy ambitions I sipped the venom of an origami viper. Played backgammon with the resident sheikh promising hope on the ticking quartz. Restless and peerless in my farewell posture I said amen to club 44.
Hopped into a limo only to find the prince of Borneo. Asked the driver to head to Umm al Quwain to a dirty club called XXX. Employed a play on words, sharp as a cutting tool. For a period of time talked like a flashing light with special delights that drove him wild. Was he a friend or foe. I’ll never know. Everyone bowed as we entered the club. Our table ready, Krystal on ice, that’s nice. Amplified night lamps, brilliantly colored. Fat girls on stage jiggled their body parts to Tchaikovsky’s ballet suite. The place was cramped with men in suits packing velvet revolvers endlessly vogue. Their instruments of communication.
Zero hour applauded the bell ringer. It was time to put on my archer attire with bows in my quiver. Unchained my excited animal, turbo in my engine, left the club. Ran into a blind mudslinger, in Braille he showed me a fast way home. With ping pong pulse I climbed the wall. Like a rodent on a Ferris wheel, my vision warped, I fell to the floor. Woke up majrooh in a marjooha, my fate I believe was a thief.
So, the moral of the story as once said by Timothy Leary is “turn on, tune in, dropout”.
And thanks to Bahraini for giving me the opportunity to have a little fun with myself and I on a Thursday night.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
post worthy?
Random thought of the day
What if two identical twins married two identical twins.. rod and tod married ally and sally.. and now both couples had children.. would the kids look exactly the same? I mean is that even a possibility? Would they be couswins? Has this ever happened? I'm sure it has.. Then what would happen with the parents, would the children be able to tell their parents apart? Would the parents be able to spot their own kids? Am I just aimlessly wondering about stupid things? Can someone answer my question?
A battle of epic proportions
While in the shower scrubbing myself up this past weekend, I noticed something in my peripheral vision, something big moving about on the shower curtain rail… I look up to catch sight of a medium sized, nay, it was a giant spider pausing to size me up.. After initially getting my spiderman dream out of the way (getting bit by the spider and getting superhuman powers), I decided it would be best to tackle this issue while there was no soap in my eyes.. once done with my shower, I stepped out to see where the vile beast was, only to find him guarding my exit, hanging around the door with his fangs ready for war.. There we were, me, naked dripping water on the tiles looking for my weapon of choice, and he suspended there waiting to pounce, preparing his venom for the skirmish. And then calling upon the spirit of my ancestors I prepared for battle, I reached for the box of tissue paper and dealt him the whack of all whacks.. Spider juice splattered the door as my enemy fell to the ground, his 8 outstretched legs now squished and his entrails breathing the open air.. in my naked victory, I saw it fitting to celebrate king kong style grunting and beating my chest as my opponent lay motionless on the cold tiles.. opening the door I continued my naked grunting parade into the bedroom to scare off any other giant monstrous creatures considering interrupting my shower.. and then I realized that I had gotten water everywhere and the balcony curtains were drawn..
In honor of all things facial
Laugh the headline off a bit.. All right, back to it – Apparently May is moustache month.. I'm thinking about shaving off the goatee and keeping a handlebar moustache.. or maybe a general lee, maybe a musketeer would be cool… although Saudi 80s businessman is a great look too.. hmm.. just do this, love thy stache.. treat it with care.. and if you haven't groomed it in a while, go and give it a new look.. I hear the musketeer is making a big comeback (I'm just trying to instigate)..
An announcement regarding Pearl Jam
I gave them a chance over and over again, I tried, but I'm gonna go out now and say this: Pearl Jam are overrated... Eddie Vedder, I liked you more when you drank and were a reckless misunderstood rambler. If you love Pearl Jam, let me say this: At one point in my life, I loved Pearl Jam too.. their first 2-3 albums were some of the best tunes that defined my growing up years. Nothing sounded better.. then album after album they started sucking, and when I mean sucking, their music quickly became some of the worst buys I ever made (and I've made some horrible music purchases over the years). I gave them every opportunity to win me over, I bought their cds, I listened to their new releases, but was just continually disappointed hoping for the next cd to be good. and then a couple of months ago, I read with great big hopeful eyes how Eddie Vedder came out to tell everyone the old Pearl Jam were back.. they were back to being angry and that the music on the new album was going to rock again.. and then do you know what happened? I bought the cd and realized that Eddie Vedder was a lying sack of shit. Their music hasn't changed at all, there was nothing radical about their sound.. it was like they were still regurgitating the same crap of the past couple of albums with a twinge of the old Pearl Jam.. you guys may be angry, but lay off the green tea, go hit that bottle of Jack Walker Black (when you know him as long as we have it's jack) and come up with something ballsy.. I will subject myself to another three listens to your cd, if you have not changed my mind then, I will never buy another Pearl Jam CD as long as I live (well unless it's really good and it's confirmed to be really good)..
The final update
Since moving to my new digs at work, my coffee machine was out of commission for the longest time. Last night I stopped off at the super and went on a cube provision restocking frenzy in which I procured some fingerlickin' lavazza for the machine. This morning I decided it was time to get ol'krups back on the wagon, and you know what? she's purring like a kitten. so yes i'm back on the perked up and slightly wired java-train. now all I need to do is learn how to make a good cappuccino –'cause there's nothing finer than fixing a woman a good cappuccino and watching her drink it..
What if two identical twins married two identical twins.. rod and tod married ally and sally.. and now both couples had children.. would the kids look exactly the same? I mean is that even a possibility? Would they be couswins? Has this ever happened? I'm sure it has.. Then what would happen with the parents, would the children be able to tell their parents apart? Would the parents be able to spot their own kids? Am I just aimlessly wondering about stupid things? Can someone answer my question?
A battle of epic proportions
While in the shower scrubbing myself up this past weekend, I noticed something in my peripheral vision, something big moving about on the shower curtain rail… I look up to catch sight of a medium sized, nay, it was a giant spider pausing to size me up.. After initially getting my spiderman dream out of the way (getting bit by the spider and getting superhuman powers), I decided it would be best to tackle this issue while there was no soap in my eyes.. once done with my shower, I stepped out to see where the vile beast was, only to find him guarding my exit, hanging around the door with his fangs ready for war.. There we were, me, naked dripping water on the tiles looking for my weapon of choice, and he suspended there waiting to pounce, preparing his venom for the skirmish. And then calling upon the spirit of my ancestors I prepared for battle, I reached for the box of tissue paper and dealt him the whack of all whacks.. Spider juice splattered the door as my enemy fell to the ground, his 8 outstretched legs now squished and his entrails breathing the open air.. in my naked victory, I saw it fitting to celebrate king kong style grunting and beating my chest as my opponent lay motionless on the cold tiles.. opening the door I continued my naked grunting parade into the bedroom to scare off any other giant monstrous creatures considering interrupting my shower.. and then I realized that I had gotten water everywhere and the balcony curtains were drawn..
In honor of all things facial
Laugh the headline off a bit.. All right, back to it – Apparently May is moustache month.. I'm thinking about shaving off the goatee and keeping a handlebar moustache.. or maybe a general lee, maybe a musketeer would be cool… although Saudi 80s businessman is a great look too.. hmm.. just do this, love thy stache.. treat it with care.. and if you haven't groomed it in a while, go and give it a new look.. I hear the musketeer is making a big comeback (I'm just trying to instigate)..
An announcement regarding Pearl Jam
I gave them a chance over and over again, I tried, but I'm gonna go out now and say this: Pearl Jam are overrated... Eddie Vedder, I liked you more when you drank and were a reckless misunderstood rambler. If you love Pearl Jam, let me say this: At one point in my life, I loved Pearl Jam too.. their first 2-3 albums were some of the best tunes that defined my growing up years. Nothing sounded better.. then album after album they started sucking, and when I mean sucking, their music quickly became some of the worst buys I ever made (and I've made some horrible music purchases over the years). I gave them every opportunity to win me over, I bought their cds, I listened to their new releases, but was just continually disappointed hoping for the next cd to be good. and then a couple of months ago, I read with great big hopeful eyes how Eddie Vedder came out to tell everyone the old Pearl Jam were back.. they were back to being angry and that the music on the new album was going to rock again.. and then do you know what happened? I bought the cd and realized that Eddie Vedder was a lying sack of shit. Their music hasn't changed at all, there was nothing radical about their sound.. it was like they were still regurgitating the same crap of the past couple of albums with a twinge of the old Pearl Jam.. you guys may be angry, but lay off the green tea, go hit that bottle of Jack Walker Black (when you know him as long as we have it's jack) and come up with something ballsy.. I will subject myself to another three listens to your cd, if you have not changed my mind then, I will never buy another Pearl Jam CD as long as I live (well unless it's really good and it's confirmed to be really good)..
The final update
Since moving to my new digs at work, my coffee machine was out of commission for the longest time. Last night I stopped off at the super and went on a cube provision restocking frenzy in which I procured some fingerlickin' lavazza for the machine. This morning I decided it was time to get ol'krups back on the wagon, and you know what? she's purring like a kitten. so yes i'm back on the perked up and slightly wired java-train. now all I need to do is learn how to make a good cappuccino –'cause there's nothing finer than fixing a woman a good cappuccino and watching her drink it..
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