Monday morning, though it's afternoon now after a little bit of work. Light head, q-tip ear fucking orgasmic, simple meal, cold plain water. Laptop at the service centre causing my ear to be infested with akon, gwen stefani, black eyed peas, etc as I sneak into this house's office room to borrow some desktop usage. laptop cd rom damaged, format needed, if format wasn't needed, laptop would still be here. No more heavy duty work to be done, thus laptop could be safely handed over to the service centre, to the hands of the malay female customer exec. who will pass it over to the chinese male technician. I am stereotyping in typing. I don't think I've ever been to taiping.
Saved enough money to buy a whopper of a desktop to play games. But I dunno. I'm a bad shopper, too hesitant to spend, bad spender. Bad shopper and spender. Too hesitant to spend, too naive to shop. Blame it on the maleness. According to this book "Stereotype" by "Stereotyper", males go straight to the shit, and grab it, females sift through a lot of shit, and grab it all. Shit grabbing. But some males have better female instinct then others. It's too hard to stereotype, so I'll monowrite. Never been on the KL monorail. Not yet. At least.
Enough money to buy a big pile of electronic shit that will allow me to play oblivion. As intended. As recorded in a previous entry. I'm hot for oblivion. A bit. Maybe I've lost the passion. I wouldn't know until I've tried. Still I'll need that BP of ES so that I could do the only work I want to do. Big pile of electronic shit, I want to excrete from you little pieces of melodic shit, one by one. You fucking cunts.
Monday afternoon. Very good weather. Mild. Cloudy, not gloomy. The instant urge to unlock the door, burst out naked followed by chants of doom anarchy slogans. No. Anyway, woke up at 4:40 AM to the sound of handphone organizer alarm, "brazil vs. argentina 4:50AM". I say fuck it I wanna sleep I can just check the result later. Later, on soccernet, "Brazil cruise to Copa glory". Thank god/chance I didn't force myself to watch that shit, I have a soft spot for Argentina. Maybe it's the colours, gay blue and white. Can't go wrong with that. Can't go wrong with maradona either. The god and goddess of 80s pop culture, maradona and madonna. The god of lazyness, some malay dude. I might be a demigod of some sort. He could give me command of some fort.
Oh god of lazyness, wielding the spear of done none, half human half gorilla, endorphins extravaganza, the perfect poster non sparta of peace, the mainstay of beds and dining tables, the preferer of moving film over books, the curator of minimalist movers, the... the cow dung of heaven's grassy knolls. The anti thesis of roles.
Thou shalt possess me.
Oh haven. Big living room. Electronic black box. Two tentacles. Moving colours. Stupid fucking games. You make my life worthwile, for a few hours. Until the man-made lights go on, cause the light from that big hot one sided testicle of fire is going off. I move in the night with a soundtrack. A munching pac man. Street burgers. Mmm. Oh vagina, help me.