No one uses the word "rendezvous" anymore. Unless you're French. Hence I felt pathetic to name this post "Musical Rendezvous".

Found this gorgeous Patti Smith cover of Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. Listen to it,  it's so good:



Wonderful, isn't it? She made it into a folksie-tribal song. Plus she added her gorgeous poetry between the lines.


I have also recently been listening to this electro-pop French singer, Emilie Simon. She's got such a nice sweet voice, and she does some impressive covers. I originally found her when I was looking through Iggy Pop stuff on YouTube, and found her cover version of I Wanna Be Your Dog.

Usually I am filled with an intense need to kill something when a pop singer covers a classic rock song, but her cover is strangely hypnotic. Give it a listen, and yell at me in the comments box if you think I am a complete wanker for liking this:



Who knew that the words "I wanna be your dog" would sound so dirty coming from a woman's mouth? Iggy Pop makes it cool.

I also found her live cover of Nirvana's Come as You Are:



And here are two other of her songs which are my particular favorites. They are both from her self-titled debut album:

What life do you have, Mr. Flippy Doodle?

Thought to make another version of my previous post, because I just realised that the shade of grey I used before was too horrifyingly light, so decided to darken it.

When S & T are sets, a relation between S & T is a subset of the cartesian product of S & T

You may assume that d≠0

Grey & prosaic

I am stuck in cement.

Head stuck into a telephone

The portrait of a telemarketer and his wife:

via Dark Roasted Blend

Hello world. It's me, Mr. Zombieeeee -

Ahahahaha, this made me laugh so much:



SEA MONSTERS?! Sense and Sensibility and SEA MONSTERS?! Honestly, I wonder if there is any limit to commercialism.

There is also Pride and Prejudice and Zombies:



These were the trailers by the publisher who publishes these books.

The books might be terrible, but at least the cover art is highly amusing (and weirdly artsy in some places):

Yes my Queen - bash those zombies!

I wonder if Abraham Lincoln is turning in his grave right now. 

Probably better looking as a wolf.

They look like tramps. 

My favourite - anything to do with androids is absolutely gorgeous. 

Yeh, real classy. Wonder where will he put
all those tentacles.

All images via Enchanted Serenity of Period Films

Blah 7

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I hate these adverts:

What the fuck is this? Every time I am browsing around an innocent website, THIS props up, and it looks like I'm going through porn.

It's almost as torturous as those Evony ads.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Also, FINAL'S WEEK NEXT WEEK. God bless me, and everyone else around me. Haven't really slept for 2 days. But at least I managed an A in Calculus.   =D

Now all I need to do is not fuck up Concepts of Maths and Java.
Remember Concepts of Maths?

 Yeh, THAT bastard.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

The closer the finals are approaching, the snappier and moodier people are getting here [including me].
But I will miss everyone over the holidays, even though no one will miss me one bit.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I want food, and there is no cash.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Honestly, if you decide to skip a class, make sure you don't run into the professor during lunch.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Sleep, sleep...where art thou?


*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I feel like a cat. I want someone to cuddle me.


*   *   *   *   *   *   *

To be human is to be a fish out of water.

 .

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   

I love you the most when you program the whole night away.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   

The Artful Dodger

So this is just a post about what I did on Thursday.
Yeh, sorry, its about the wanking bastardly life that I lead; with homework, exams and no time for REAL excitement (like, I dunno...jumping off a fucking canoe in Mongolia or something).

I meant to post this up earlier (like, ON THURSDAY), but I have been literally drowning in a pool of work, and really could not afford the time. So I thought to work on this post while writing my English essay at the same time.

I wanted to do this post more justice, but Father Time (or Mother Time, or Tranny Time, what ever you wish) is not on my side.

So here goes:

International Day

So we had International Day at my uni on Thursday, and as per tradition, I did not have any Indian clothes to wear. I know, I know, I am a sham to my culture. But I NEVER wear Indian clothes anywhere, least of all on International Day. In fact - by some cosmic coincidence - I usually end up wearing black clothes on International Day (and if you know me from school, you probably know this already). Most people always think that I am mourning International Day or something, like I am globalism's widow.

Which I am not. So my Malaysian friend lend me her traditional Malaysian dress. Its like a long top and long skirt, and it was a flowery green pattern. It just felt so comfortable and flowly, like floating in clouds. So at long last, I wore something traditional on a International Dress. I swear, next time I am telling my mum to buy me some shalwaar-kameez from India, because I am sick of people telling me that I am a bastard to my country and culture. And I do like my cultural clothes, I just don't have the patience to wear them. Look at all the bright colours; who can deny these:

So anyways, the rest of the evening was quite good. There some nice performances, and lots of random bursts of dancing. But the food was from our uni cafeteria, and it SUCKED. I wish we had traditional food to sample from different countries, but instead we are stuck with blobby pasta. It made me miss the International Days of my school; those were amazing, where our entire gym hall was transferred into this mad cultural theme park. And the Indo food was so so so good! :D

Someone cook me some Indo food *ahem ahem*

So towards the end, there was another random burst of dancing, and we were getting bored, so Alina had this idea to go to the local Oliver! production, where the final show was playing. So we headed out towards QA in another friends car...

Oliver! The Musical

So me, Alina, Ren, Fahad and Varun go together, and sneak in (well, ok, not exactly sneak in. We were looking around for the performance hall, and a nice lady who was involved in the production allowed us in for free, but told us to sit quietly on the stairs, and after the interval we can find the seats).

So we go and sit on the stairs (while some old people give us weird looks). Before going in I thought it would be like those gay school productions, full of shit songs and weird flopping kids all over the place (yeh, I was forced into one of those bitchy things multiple times). But I was immediately captivated by it. The lighting was so perfect, and the actors were just amazing. Sometimes it felt a bit like they were overacting, but then it was all just the fun of the moment, and the kids were actually really really good at acting and in the entire performance.

And there was a proper orchestra below the stage too,  and the music was so professional and sharp that it felt like it was recorded, rather than live. Later (at the "credits"), they said that the orchestra is part of the national Philharmonic Orchestra, so no wonder it was so good. And the maestro looked a bit like a rich man's version of Clint Eastwood (I think).

The actors were great. Most of them were kids, and damn were they good at singing. There was a professor from our uni too (!), and an exchange student from our uni. My favourite was the kid who played the Artful Dodger. I am really not sure if it was a girl or a guy playing the character, but either way, they were good. He/she (sorry) made the character of Dodger so smooth and suave, it was almost like it wasn't a kid acting.

So at the interval there was some light "cocktail food" (at least that's what I call it). I was still in my bright green International Day clothes, and it was so embarrassing walking around looking so bright. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I swear people were giving me freaked out looks.

When me and Alina came back, the side door we had come in through earlier was closed, so instead we had to use the central door. And guess what? We found two empty seats, right at the center, at the top! Awesome, awesome! Our wonderful luck. I am sure we were taking someone's seats, but I think they were too polite to make us get off.

And the rest of the show was great fun. The crowd clapped and cheered at the right places, the music was catchy, and there were even many "breaking-the-third-wall" moments (i.e. when Oliver and Dodger try and steal the maestro's wallet).

The best bit was listening to all those Brit accents (fake and real). After school I MISS the Brit accents so much. All I hear now is American accents (and some Italian thrown in every now and then), so it was refreshing to hear all those lovely Brits.

At the end there were some last songs and some "thank you" moments, and the main director of the show (the one who played Nancy, and who turned out to be the maestro's daughter) even started crying. But it was great fun. By the time it was all over I was so tired and dizzy from all the dazzle, that by the time we went home my head was about to split open. But I was too excited to sleep, so instead decided to plunge myself in half an hour of Pink Floyd The Wall.

I wish I had taken photos of the stage and how well it was set up, but I was not sure if we are allowed to take photos, so I didn't bother. Sorry if the post looks a bit bland and photo-less, but I don't really feel comfortable sharing photos of my  friends without their permissions; and since I am in deep shit with tons of Programming, Logic and English homework, I really cannot be bothered to go around and ask them.

So here is some random vintage dress designs instead (I thought they were lovely so thought to share):

Gorgeous vintage dress designs:

via Vintage Bulletin  

Your light bulb

Wow, the lightening outside is amazing!

And I have never seen it so frequent here before. There is like one flash every 5 seconds; and massive flashes too!

I'm sitting in my cafeteria area, and the whole hall is flashing so brightly every now and then.
The roof of our uni building is sort of like this transparent glass, with cement columns going across. So whenever the lightening flashes, the entire building lights up.

Ooh, its raining now too! Reminds me of Indian monsoon rains.
I know I sound like a sad wanker talking about rain in such an excited way, but here rain is so very RARE, that a torrent of it like today is amazing.

Lovely, lovely.

When I see you, I see nothing but distant clockworks

Since I knew you,

And you existed in a detachment of my eyes,

I shall always beg God to bless you with heaven,

To bestow you all the deeds you had done in your life,

All the joy,

The fruits from trees of prophets,

The blessed rivers of milk and honey. 

Then I think of you in your old wrinkled skin,

Those tear-filled beady black eyes,

I imagine back to then.

When you had all the power, all the glory, all the youth,

But you used it only to strike,

The punishments you filled me with,

Torture, torture,

A stick of malice and cruelty,

When your lips spurred out spines of blood,

Streams of loathing, dripping within every phrase,

And me,

Standing there, out on the door,

The family name spilled on to the floor,

This letter here smashed against that number there,

Hands that scratched the wood,
Nails dug into hair, teeth gnawed on human flesh,

And the fumes of despair, 

That emerged from these fluids of eyes,

Cold tiles,

Which cut - spill more blood and prose over,

Torture, torture.

The roar of the water,

Scattered bangles, cotton, hairpins, gold,

That delicate embroidered red cloth, splattered with mud,

Torn to pieces,

With the same hands which cut into my throat,

The same cold eyes,

Which stand out now from that mass of skin and soul.

Rain, rain,

Hit gold against gold,

Smash together,

Yellow beads of wedding and joy,

Only to hit them painfully against calloused hands,

Greedy bestial human hands, 

Burnt to the bone with tar and smoke,

All beads falling into despair,

Mixed with water, dirt, splitting threads.

All this,

For a place to stay.

I look back,
The misery and hatred quenches me,

To think of you,

You cruel useless being,

You worthless empty sapling of clockwork joy,

Mockery of myself, shadow of my flesh, 

From which I had burst forth,

Filth and disgust which fills me at your sound,

Your voice which trembles through every membrane of my past.

How, how how,

How has God made it possible,

For such hatred to alloy with so much longing.

I beg you even now, as you rest in these white sheets,

Oblivious to the screams,

To stretch out a few inches of you wrinkled diseased skin,

And engulf me within that metallic embrace,

Open your now milky white eyes,

Look, look, look,

Look at this empty gulf,

See where you were, when you stood at this very spot,

Gazed into this eleven year void, 

Which is now my mother's eyes,

And spluttered such loathing  for all of me,

Encased in that shell of blood and varnish,

The sound of your shrills,

Which shall fill me until my body is bent and distorted with age.

Now!

Answer me, 

With your new softened voice,

Slow, hollow, sing-along voice,

Answer the longing which fills my slow mechanical heart,

This little machine of rusted cogs and wretched pumps,

Answer why - within this lifeless sequence of metal -

There is intense devotion for you.

Me, this selfish, unfeeling sham that I am,

Can only ever praise you,

Your filthy blood which flows within me,

The same layers of diseased flesh,

The same carved symbols upon these hands,

Chiseled lines of veins,

Spilling decay and corruption,

Entering this tarnished mind,

Asking:

How, within this lifeless universe,

Is it possible,

For such an abyss of hatred,

To exist along with eternal devotion.

If there is one thing which is the most important in life, it is this: do not ever deeply hurt someone's heart. And I mean this in the most serious manner. I know most of the time I am not serious, but I really mean this.

Its not like someone hurt me recently or anything, but I remember when someone in my family died, and oh God, oh God, oh God. I hated that person beyond hate. 

I told my mother this, and even though she hated that person too (for all that they had done), she strictly told me off for speaking bad things about the dead. For us, after someone dies, you should always remember them in a good way, no matter what, or else they get punished in their graves.And speaking ill of the dead makes you a bad person too.

But it is incredibly impossible to forgive someone. Your heart, filled with betrayal, can't help but feel resentment and dislike, like a century old feud reignited. But I will still pray to God for forgiveness on their behalf. 

That's why tread very carefully in your life. Be silent, be unknown, be stubborn, be a comedy, be whatever you want, just do not hurt someone.

Image: Heinz Kiessling's illustration for Malbuchgeschichten (via 50 Watts)

All you touch and all you see, is all your life will ever be. *

*   *   *

[Driving back into Al Khor Community, we see the Pizza Hut guy driving around]

Bro: 

You know, they banned the KFC car from the community.

Me: 

Why?

Bro: 

The usual. He was over-speeding. They caught him speeding before, but he did it again, so they banned him.

Me: 

Ooh, how will people of Al Khor get their chicken...

Bro: 

I know, right? Poor him.
He used to drive around the community, delivering his chicken. But he just couldn't resist the speed. Finally, he got caught.
And the security people told him "God damn, you KFC guy, you are always speeding. I am sorry, but you are banned now." And then they confiscated his chicken.

Me: 

o__0

Bro: 

Yeh. They confiscated his chicken. And he begged them, and begged them. He said, "please, what will I do without my chicken? Do not take my KFC chicken away form me. What will people of Al Khor do without my chicken?".
But they did not listen to him. They confiscated his chicken, and threw him out of the community. And then they mercilessly ate the chicken, right in front of him.

Me: 

What the hell are you on about? How do you know this even happend?

Bro:
well, my friend told the KFC guy got banned. The rest is made up. But I swear, these security people are stealing our chicken.

Me:
Right....and your friend has nothing better to do than gossip about KFC?

Bro:

Pretty much.

*   *   * 

Note: 
I don't want to stereotype, but all KFC drivers here seem to be perverts.
They always stare at you when they drive past. Twice, a KFC driver honked at me and drove by slowly while staring. W.T.F.
Ergh, I just turned up my iPod and kept walking, while imagining Jimmy Page shredding that guy to pieces with his guitar.
I thought this was only a problem in Al Khor, but it happened in Do City too.
0__o
So I hope that KFC drivers get banned everywhere.

Disclaimer: 

The above image is a subject to copyright. 

This logo is owned by the KFC Corporation,
hence I am only using it as a joke. 

The only parts of the image I own are:

The "call: 666" text, the evil eyes, the evil eyebrows, 
the fake pixelated blood, and the word "BASTARD".

[Even though you may think they all

deserve to be a part of the KFC logo, unfortunately they are not.]

* Pink Floyd - Breathe

If you don't sing like a Norwegian woman, who will ever fancy you?

I found this questionnaire randomly on some other blog, and since I feel like taking a break from my English essay (10 pages of pure joy), I thought to put up a random blog post.

And what can be more random than these weirdly girly questionnaires? Plus, I get a chance to add my bloody sarcasm in between the lines.

But first, random image of the day:

via HildeLouise

She is this amazing jazz singer from Norway; her voice is

so beautifully classy and seductive. 

I wanted to listen to more of her albums, but can't seem

to find any. =___=

Ok, now to the questionnaire:

What I would like in a guy:

1. brown hair | black hair | blonde hair | red hair  

I don't think ginger hair would be too bad. As long as its not too bright reddish-ginger. Dark dark ginger is cool.

2. tall | short | same height as you

6'1 (i.e. Axel Hermann) to 6'4 (i.e. Alexander Skarsgard) would be perfect. Thank you.

3. ear piercings | eyebrow piercings | snake bites | no piercings 

4. tattoos | no tattoos |

5. skater | punk |  indie | cowboy | musician | prep | jock | other

"other" meaning, a NORMAL guy, honestly, I am too old to go for any of the cliques mentioned above. Although, indie was tempting, but nowadays indie is directly associated with emo hair and tight skinny jeans. 

6. shy | outgoing | in between

7. mellow | hyper | loud | quiet

I don't even know exactly HOW a person can be mellow, but it rhymes with yellow, so it can't be all that bad

8. blue eyes | brown eyes | green eyes

also, are black and brown eyes considered the same?

9. wears tight jeans | wears normal jeans | other

WEARS NORMAL JEANS. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL DIE BEFORE I LIKE A GUY WHO WEARS SKINNY JEANS. [see also: this post]

10. converse | vans | nikes | skate shoes | other
 I have no idea what the fuck either of those types of shoes are. I am rubbish with shoes. Given the choice, I would go around barefoot.

11. listens to: metal | rap | indie | classic rock | country | all

I was going to choose metal too...but I think I will skip metal.Especially nowadays, with all that Icelandic stuff coming out.

12. compliments too much | compliments when necessary

You know you should ditch a guy if he compliments too much. It means that he is a liar.

13. jokes around all the time | jokes when necessary


14. sensitive | hides emotion | acts tough | other

Originally there was not an "other" option in this. But seriously, I do not want to choose between "sensitive", "hides emotion" and "acts tough". NEITHER. Blah, I don't care.

15. hobbies: music | skating | sports | drawing | fishing | other

I want someone that makes nude drawings. Okay, sorry, never-mind. That was a joke. Honest. Really, honest, it was a joke.

16. loves to hold | loves to be held

Yeh, most of the time I am crying after programming exams, so I want someone to hold me.

Note: answer to this depends on what exactly he is supposed to be holding.

17. tons of muscles | fit | skinny | chubby

18. pale | average | tan | dark

19. cusses a lot | never cusses | moderatly cusses | only cusses around friends | who even gives a fuck

Given how much I can swear in my head, I wouldn't even mind someone who swears a lot.. But someone once told me that, those who swear a lot are the ones who have terrible language skills.

20. wavy hair | curly hair | straight hair | long hair |  short hair
 And I wouldn't mind curly hair, as long as its those gorgeous Greek-guy curls.

Treme

New HBO original series coming out on April 11 2010:







 Looks great.

Its about the neighborhood Treme in New Orleans, and how the people there try to pick up the pieces 3 months after Hurricane Katrina.

And I really want to know whats the background score in these trailers.

Kooked toh da soule

I wonder how much should you sin before God starts punishing you.
If you are a woman, a thought is all that counts.

Fooking hate them ATMs / Fountain & Fuckery

 Fountain by Marcel Duchamp

Fucking ATM machines, HATE THEM, HATE THEM.

The ATM in front of my dorms was seriously designed by a bunch of 2 cent whores.

Wait, 2 cent whores who slut-off to trannies.

Ergghhh, I am so pissed off, fucking hate pretty much everything and anything right now [except my lovely friends]. And I can't even pinpoint WHY I am pissed off. I am just PISSED. When I go to someone's office and they say "I am busy", I am PISSED; when my parents tell me off for being a bad daughter, I am PISSED; when people are talking too loud, I am PISSED; I am just so so so so pissed in general. 

I have just spent the whole day swearing under my breath at anything that comes in my way. Its like there is a dragon inside me, flooding my whole brain with fire and acid.

Also, on a fucking stupid note, I had to e-mail my professor and ask him if displaying the art work above would be offensive to any of the students. Effing stupid of me. Now I have decided to make a fucked up presentation. Fuck being conservative. Conservative people are fucking hypocrites.

I am putting in at least one nude sculptor, and probably a blood-filled-dead-cow-shit piece of modern art. Lets just celebrate all this fucked up world of bitches and whores and emotional sores. 

On a positive note, a new Android application allows you to translate ANIMAL language into HUMAN language [obviously, English]. 

I don't know how effective it is, but its a fucking good idea.

Google, sometimes I think you are the only thing that can make me happy. I wish Google was a man, so I can like marry it and have 200 kids.

Edit: Song of the day [I sing this to myself in crowded shopping malls]