Right click, save as this.
Not bad for a girl who just a couple days ago learned the chord C, eh. Ha ha ha.

Jeng Winn!!

Aku terharu kamu telpon. Terimakasih yaaa!!! Semoga masakannya nggak hangus, masakan ku juga. Yo wis... *muah muah*

.
.
.
Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows
your name
.
.
.
X!!!!!

While the two sib units went out venturing Austin's 6^th St for the "musical" experience it offers, I got stucked here at our nifty little town. Not to worry, I went out for a few laps at Rec's outdoor pool, followed by a 20-min dip at the hot tub. For dinner, I went to get a Monster Freebirds (take out).
I stopped by Hastings to rent some videos. The choices went down to this or this. But, as always, the entertainment superstore seems to never able to hold a copy of either flicks. After a quick sweep over the classics, the foreigns, the comedies, the dramas, and the blockbusters (in that order), this one caught my sight. It uncannily caught my life...

Mac (Jack Nicholson), Taber (Christopher Lloyd), and fellow institutionalized mates caught a 40-lb fish in their deep water fishing trip.	Bro (donning the lucky Barbie fishing rod) and me landed on a stranded dock in our deep pond fishing trip. Life bait bucket in the front.
Mac's lunatic card player stare	My lunatic poker-winning-moment stare

Ha ha ha. Have a nice weekend!
Signing off.

It is just so comforting to be able to finally give some utterance to that person to set our record straight. If it wasn't only in my dream.

*hiks*

Ah..this is not what I'm looking for.

Wilhelmus Jeffersonius Airplanus Clintonensis, salutamus venerabilis
Universitatis Oxoniensis. Quondam Rhodus scholasticus et marijuana
non-inhaliensis, et exBello Vietnamensis non conscritone excusatus.
Subsequentis gubernator respublica Arkansensis et perpetrator
criminalis sleazissimus in nomine "Aqua Blanca" scandalus,cum t uxore
Hillarius Roddama Clintestrone. Etiam legoverus multitudinus cum multae
bimbones, Gennifa Flores, Paula Jones, et cetera, et cetera. Satyriasis
abnormalis in modo Presidentius Kennedensis. Tua fama extendit per omne
mundo pro joggendo, juvando ad saxzphonum, et non much else. Esperamus
quid pro quo multirichi Americani donabunt muchos dollares ad
Universitatem Oxoniensis.

Vivat, vivat Clintstone zaba-daba-doo.

Or this..

Veneris administer erectissime, indefatigabilis pilis, o gulose,
dilecte sine causa amicis qui Britanniae praesunt ignaris, tuum
ingenium ad nummos cogendum te, Praeses Clinton, Cancellarium
Universitatis Oxoniensis faciat fructuosum.

There is a longer version of this "laudation" for President Clinton for Oxford Chancellor. If it's not too much trouble, could somebody, please, find me a copy? Thanks a buncho...

Front: 2004 Harley Davidson VRSCB, $17,295 MSRP. (I overheard, it belongs to an elementary school teacher. Way to go Mr!)

Middle: 2001 Honda XR650R, "the biggest, baddest dirt bike on the planet", they claimed.

Back: Unindentified Chevy Silverado

I thought those three performed a clean composition for the picture.

Location: Bryan Civic Auditorium
Date: 05/22/04
Camera: Polaroid Fun! Flash 640

(I miss you miss you)

Hello there the angel from my nightmare
The shadow in the background of the morgue
The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want
Where you can always find me
And we'll have Halloween on Christmas
And in the night we'll wish this never ends
We'll wish this never ends

(I miss you I miss you)
(I miss you I miss you)

Where are you and I'm so sorry
I cannot sleep I cannot dream tonight
I need somebody and always
This sick strange darkness
Comes creeping on so haunting every time
And as I stared I counted
The Webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides
Like indecision to call you
and hear your voice of treason
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight
Stop this pain tonight

Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)

Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)
Don't waste your time on me you're already
The voice inside my head (I miss you miss you)

I miss you (miss you miss you)
I miss you (miss you miss you)
I miss you (miss you miss you)
I miss you (miss you miss you)
(I miss you miss you)


--I miss you, Blink 182

Summertime, an' the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high
Oh, Yo daddy's rich an' yo' ma is good lookin'
So hush, little baby, don't you cry

One of these mornin's, you goin' to rise up singin'
Then you'll spread yo' wings an' you'll take the sky
But till that mornin', there's a nothin' can harm you
With daddy & mammy standin' by

Summertime, George Gershwin, originally for the opera Porgy and Bess


Performing that song wholeheartedly (for the second time) as her third in last night's American Idol finale, I bet that Miss Barrino would definitely be the next American Idol. The voting gap between Barrino-de Garmo is for sure won't be as close as between last year's Studdard-Aiken. Yay Fantasia!!

*ring ring*

Bro: Hey, we want to eat at Tan tan, wanna come?
Me : Tan tan?
*people laughing in the background*
Bro: Yes, Tan tan.
Me : Who is going?
Bro: The poker guys
Me : Are you guys crazy or what, well, what the heck, okay.
Bro: We'll pick you up now.

So there we went to the H-town at 10:52 PM. The Chinese resto closes at 2 AM on weekdays, we had enough time to drive down there (it only took 1.5 hour or so).

Along the way, we (minus NH the driver) sang in harmony and in a quite a loud deal to the 70-90's love songs from the radio. At one point, the car was shaking from Bro & Sis' booty shaking. They're that wild.

Administrative note:
You guys notice that the blog entries lately mostly revolve around that one stuff. What could I expect, with the summer coming and the advisor gone on an indeterminate long vacation, I pretty much have quite the whole time in the world to ponder about these aphrodisiac related businesses. So wish me luck. ;)

Five years ago, a knock on the door.

Hi, I just got back from Columbus. I thought I'd brought you something.
Oh, thank you so much. *Admiring the miniature license plate keychain with my name on it.*
Well, gotta run now. I'll see you later.

I didn't even invite him in. Wonder if it should have brought more than the occasional "Hi, Hello, Goodbye". And then he graduated this year and he left.

***

Three years ago, on a communal graduation reception.

Sorry for coming here so late. Congratulations! *He gave me a big hug and kisses on both cheeks.*
Thanks.
*silent moment*
Oh, I need to go, I'm cooking some BBQ for Gretchen, you're welcome anytime.

I've never expected that hug and those kisses, much less from him.

***

Two nights ago, on an intermission inside a big auditorium. He walked up to me...

Hi, how are you doing?
Pretty good, thank you. *it felt like he was undressing me from head to toe, and I paused for a second* And how are you?
I'm good.

and then the show was starting and we parted.

***

Last night, we, he and I, were browsing through the photo albums.

Wawawa, ayo tolong diskip foto-foto yang ini, malu bo'.
Kenapa? *malah ngeliatin itu foto-foto lebih seksama* Lo cakep.
*gubraks* That was coming from the guitar god.


I guess I am not among the mortals with the ability to smoothly handle awkward moments like those. Where should one learn the art of throwing and receiving "flattery", especially when it involves the attractive of the opposite sex?
Oh, I'm just xonaive.

Ndoro Yadda, the most aggresive/confident player of the morning.


Ndoro Melly, the most defensive player of the morning.


Ndoro Ucok, the most unlucky player of the morning.


Ndoro Henry, our resident artisan of all time.


Ndoro Xinda (in brown T-shirt), the second most confident player of the morning.


The game in session


Another of the game in session


Final Standing (in popsicle stick unit):
1. Ndoro Yadda 1507
2. Ndoro Xinda 958
3. Ndoro Melly 432
4. Ndoro Henry 350
5. Ndoro Ucok (resigned in the middle of the game, his sticks were equally divided among the four remaining players)

Nice pokering with you, peeps!

PS:
Apologize for the sucky digital pictures. The Polaroid can only deliver a 640 x 480 resolution.

9:30-12 == St. Vincent de Paul fundraising
12-4 == Somerville fishing trip
6-onwards == SP's graduation party/BBQ
7-onwards == CS & MS's dance recital

What a fun Saturday this would be. :)

Have a nice weekend everybody.

I see your 20, I raise it 80.
Let's get it over with.

The guy picked an accoustic out of its case and sat at the tip of the sofa. His left fingers walking up and down the fret seamlessly while his right hand strummed and picked.

The girl always cherishes moments like this, but as gauche as ever, she decided to browse the internet right beside him while carefully listening to his playing. She interrupted him once in a while, stood in awe to the styles he played so effortlessly, classical, Spanish, jazz, punk, he even imitated the traditional Scotts. He stopped everytime and resumed the song after he responded to her questions.

His songs touch her soul. At that moment, she could relate to Odysseus' sparing a life of a bard instead of everyone else's. And she wonders will someone someday play songs just as beautiful and touching, just for her.

What now?

1. Delve into my soul
b. Prioritize stuff in order to find if such thing like soulmate exists
3. Stroll down this path chosen one step at a time

My answers to those two title questions?
I have yet to find.

What about you?

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Yes, yes, another brain teaser time

You know the drill:
(1) You could ask me questions I could only answer with a yes/no.
(2) There's no limit on the number of questions you can ask.
(3) Winner(s) will receive a nice A&M stuff (don't know what it will be yet, though).
(4) Dion & Ndoro Yadda could not participate, this includes giving out hints, okay guys!

Here it goes:
A group of mighty archeologists/anthrophologists went to an expedition somewhere in the Antartica. At an unsuspecting day, they stumbled upon some very interesting piece of artifacts. Two perfectly preserved human corpses were found surfacing while bounded inside the ice.

One of the team member was specialized in the origin of the mankind, sometimes through the religion perspective. Just by looking at these two perfectly preserved naked corpses, he declared them Adam and Eve. That Adam and Eve. The whole world rejoices, knowing the truth has been found, another indispensable prove that God does exist. Well, I digress.

Question is, how did he do it? FYI, he didn't do any carbon dating or any modern specialized test invented for stuff like this. He didn't even touch the corpses.

Have fun!

After years of expensive education,
a car full of books and anticipation,
I’m an expert on Shakespeare and that’s a hell of a lot
but the world don't need scholars as much as I thought.

Maybe I'll go travelling for a year,
finding myself or start a career.
I could work for the poor though I’m hungry for fame
we all seem so different but we're just the same.

Maybe I'll go to the gym, so I don't get fat,
are things more easy with a tight six pack?
Who knows the answers? Who do you trust?
I can't event separate love from lust.

Maybe I’ll move back home and pay off my loans,
working nine to five answering phones.
Don't make me live for my friday nights,
drinking eight pints and getting in fights.

I don't want to get up, just let me lie in,
leave me alone, I'm a twenty something.

Maybe I'll just fall in love that could solve it all,
philosophers say that that’s enough,
there surely must be more. Ooooh

Love ain’t the answer nor is work,
the truth alludes me so much it hurts.
But I’m still having fun and I guess that's the key,
a twenty something and I'll keep being me.

doh dah duh dah, do duh dah dah dah
doh dah duh dah, do duh dah dah dah
doh dah duh dah, do duh dah dah dah
doh dah duh dah, do duh dah dah dah

I’m a twenty something.
Let me lie in, Leave me alone.
I’m a twenty something.

--Twentysomething, Jamie Cullum

It was then..

This is now..


He he he.

[img stolen from here]

The man was at work putting some letters together up in the sky.
After finishing the first letter, his plane suddenly lost power due to some mechanical failure.
It plunged to the earth, he died in the accident.

Scenario # 2 could be as T suggested:
"Was he in a space shuttle which depended on electricity to create artificial gravity, and when the power went out he knocked on something sharp in the shuttle and died?"

So, T, with that I deem you the winner of this trivia. To which address (in spherical coordinate or just plain e-mail?) should I send this postcard to? Drop me a note, will ya?

Dear ,

I apologize for responding to your inquiry in this public manner. I am also sincerely hoping you grant what I am requesting.

Out of respect and loyalty to this person we both know dearly, I could not discuss with you the matters pertaining to her current "situation". So, please, do not come to me with these penchants of yours. Afterall, she has asked you to stay away from her life.

This also goes onto other, what I view at its best, pseudo-phsyco-analytical characteristics study of the people you and I have personally known --the ones that you always seem to enjoy immensely. I have grown neither the interests nor the sanity to further discuss their so-called issues. My mental life has been hectic as it has always been. Aren't yours?

I really appreciate if you would not pass back your opinions regarding these matters (and also on this particular respond itself), as they would not be granted any further remark from me.

Sincerely,
X

A man was writing a letter.
There was a power outage.
He died.

What happened?

PS:
1. You could ask me questions I could only aswer with a yes/no.
2. There's no limit on the number of questions you can ask.
3. Winner(s) will receive a nice Texas postcard.
4. Ndoro Yadda could not participate, I told her the riddle last night.

It seems that my announcement to start this year's QFALB has brought an otherwise known as act of cajolement from some of you dear readers. One even proposed that I gather on a weekly report on the progress, along with the before and after visual evidence of it. Well, before we, or rather I, plunge into that kind of heavy commitment, let's talk about something crispier.

'What do you think about fried chicken?', I asked a Chinese collegue of mine casually the other day.

'Well, it is for sure no *insert some type of meat here, clue: K9 lovers everywhere, unite!* meat dish I had when I was a little child. The taste still lingers on the tip of my tounge, uhmm... specially the skin. You know, its combination with some special chinese vegetables and spices makes the most succulent meal I've ever had in my life.'

I look at him, utmost horrified. 'Well, that's a "nice" story but you are digressing too much. We are talking about fried chicken here. What is your true opinion on it?'

'Oh, I don't like chicken, tastes funny', he said sauntering back to his laboratory.

{Btw, from now on, I'll use the abbreviation FC instead of fried chicken. Just to make it a bit easier to type.}

Two nights ago, I kinda interviewed one of the world's leading authority on FC, my sister, Ndoro Yadda. "Sis, hon, why do you like FC so much?" At this point, Ndoro was already curling under her purple comforter, but she still answered the question joyously. 'Enak sih!! Lemak itu sebabnya', imitating an Indonesian brand detergent's TV commercial a while back. She then proceeded to sleep, leaving me behind with my reading, What Would Machiavelli Do? The Ends Justify the Meanness (HarperBusiness, 176 pages).

The FC we're discussing here, btw, is the one prepared by diving the chicken meat in to some kind of flour and spices batter and then deep fried it (sometimes, in a pressure cooker). This kind of cooking method preserves the meat's flavor and juiciness inside, while providing the crispiness of the flakes outside. Ultimately, this brings us to the world's most well known FC restaurant started by a Colonel (by his FC culinary virtue) from Kentucky. Since its beginning in 1952, the chain has evolved into 11,000 stores in 80 countries, caterred to almost 8 million people each day. That needs a whole lot of chicken to serve.

Sweeping the business aspect and PETA resistance to the FC industry aside, Southerners have been the ones that champion the "tradition and memories" meaning of FC. I've come across many sentimental eloquent accounts on FC picnics, Sunday brunches, and family gatherings. A great African-American leader/educator and a respected writer include this long-rooted tradition in their respective mas ter pieces.

On the musical side, the greatest band on earth slipped in an FC at the end of its Une Visión.

So, so, do you have your own FC moment? Do you even like FC? Share share...

-It is trully not to my intention to be involved in the middle of domestics between two lovebirds, especially if one of the pair is an overtly overbearing character, while the other is just way too submissive to it. If I could just punch the overbearing partner in the face and smack the submissive one back to reality... But then again, they are in love.

-gmail, rocks!

Y! Avatar, cool, eh?











PS: This is what I should look like when that would be lo-carb diet and 3-time-a-week gym/swimming habit finally kick in. Heiahia...

This xizzle brings back my wormblaster nightmare. Dang!

Update:
6 PM, the computer is finally worm free. Thanks to the Stinger of McAfee, it found a Nachi as well.

[emo mode]
On a totally unrelated business, the more I see it, the more convinced I am to start another blog/journal/whatever, "A misguided soul's guide in spinsterhood". It would still suck, a lot. Bites me.
[/emo mode]

We talk about your work how your boss is a jerk
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts
We talk about the troubles you've been having with your brother
About your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover
We talk about your friends and the places that you've been
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes
You know talking about you makes me smile
But every once in awhile

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, usually, but occassionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me

--I Wanna Talk About Me, Toby Keith



With everyone else, I would be the one doing all the listening. With you, it is much the opposite. The truth is I would love to hear more about you (and maybe even *insert long pause here* us). Get it, dear?
Ah, what am I writing it here.