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color me blind
There was a point to this story, but it has temporarily escaped the chronicler's mind. - So Long And Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams |
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about the author
A female member of the homo sapiens species
(warm-blooded, omnivorous, currently alive) Diet includes walrus diarrhea, preserved portions of man-made worms cooked in boiling water and the outermost layer of flesh of eggs that have been incubated, raised, beheaded, plucked and fried in oil. Extremely unpredictable, high-five on sight. tagboard
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warning: long boring account ahead. read at own risk. After reading this comprehension about how things change at the author's hometown, I keep remembering my old house in JB. It makes sense that I should miss it, since I lived there for more or less twelve years after all. But now the interesting thing is every part of the house I remember I seem to have played there before. Maybe it's because my childhood was spent there? And because there was nothing much to play with, not like television/computers, I was pretty bored back then. Ahh, I still remember doing weird stuff like climbing up the gates and fences, and burning candles on the stone slab for no particular reason. And also burning lanterns, leaves, plastic and occasionally fingers. We melted the fence a bit I think. We also made lots of candle sculptures last time. And also for some reason we spent a lot of time running round the pillar on the porch. I think we really have too much free time back then. And when the garden gate was installed we would lock each other up inside there and try to make the lock unbreakable. (I won this btw. By twining the hose around it.) I also remember releasing the hermit crabs to go on a rampage in the garden. They started eating the grass and tumbling around. Then the gate at the door of the house too. Our house is seperated from the neighbours' by a wall, but there was a gap at the top. So we would always climb up to the top of the gate to see what was showing on the neighbours' television. (... I feel like a peeping tom now...) And I seem to remember spending a long time debating on whether the fence belonged to the neighbours or us. Then inside, there would be this glass panel between the banister on the stairs and the floor. So we would always pretend it was a television screen and act out scenes there. (it was quite stupid really.) Then the stairs. I spend hours sliding down that thing -.- And there was this one stair that when you lay down across it, you would be able to peek down at the living/dining room. I did that alot when I was short enough. Nearly got stepped on alot, and nearly gave people a heart attack alot too. I also remember showering with my cousins when I was really young. The bathroom in the master room had this bathtub, which was the most fascinating thing in the house then. We would have water fights in there, and when the floor was all wet we would go and slide on it. We called it 'skating' then. And we would make concoctions with various soap and shampoos and dare people to drink it. (now that I think about it that's really really wasteful.. ") And we used to fight our reflections in the mirror. wth. Also, the rooftop at the old house, we treated it with the same fascination with which people treat warpholes. We used to tie little figurines to strings and drop them down the roof to another person. It was like finding out you could teleport objects. Fortunately for us, there were window grilles. And in the bedroom, I had a double decker bed, with my parents' bed behind it. So what we did was to climb the ladder to the top of the bed and then jump down onto my parents' bed, all the while trying to avoid the spinning fan that was about six inches from our heads. Surprisingly, no one was beheaded. There were also pillow fights. And I mean really, really violent pillow fights that inevitably ended in tears. When people in books tell me that pillow fights are fun and help people to bond, I laugh. For our version of pillow fights, there would be two armies. One would have their base at the top of the double decker bed while the other one will be on my parents' bed. The ones at the botton obviously have all the pillows, so they will launch the missiles at the other army. The other army will build a fortress obviously, then collect all the pillows and launch them back. But it usually ends with the army launching themselves off the bed and it becomes a free-for-all. Occasionally, prisoners are taken wrapped in blankets. Fortunately no one suffocated. Maybe I'm writing this so I won't forget, or something. But that house is really kind of scary. I can remember events from when I was... what, two or three? And if you know me my memory is really hopeless. And when I'm half asleep I can sometimes feel myself walking through the halls of that house. And it's as clear as if I were really there. It's kind of creepy really. I wonder if this is what ghosts do. If so then that is really kewl. Why can't I remember my lessons/exam material this way? Sad. I finished Stardust, and now I'm reading The Two Kinds of Decay. It's really nice. The person has this CIDP thing that makes her immune system release antibodies into her blood that strips the myline or something off her nerves so that she gets numb/partially paralyzed. And she has to get a central line which is this tube connecting to near her heart. And she has cardio vascular surgery.. That part was the most scary I guess. I got a phobia of incised/puncture/stab wounds after the glass door incident. Oh and as for Stardust, the book is so much better than the movie. The movie kind of sucks now. Why did they exclude all the sick parts, but made the three old women die in the end? In the book, Yvaine says that she has already given her heart to Tristran and the women can't use it anymore. Then the woman just goes away like that, peacefully. I like that ending the most. It shows that while the protagonists die (Neil Gaiman: I was really really fond of that unicorn. I was very sorry it died.), the antagonists don't always have to get it in the end, and I like that. But, the movie just had to go and kill them off. Please, can't we have a more creative ending? Whenever antagonists don't die, everyone assumes there will be a second movie where they come back with another army of sidekicks and get pwned again. *sighs*... And I liked the part where Yvaine just lets her go so much too... This concludes that movies and books do not mix, and everytime someone tries something like that it sucks. Except maybe transformer books.. The art is nice.. *coughcough* even though english comics are sucky. *sighs* It seems that guys can draw all those robot parts better. Or maybe it's just me. *fail* On a last note, when I pictured the eyeball collector's front cover when LY mentioned it to me, I saw a dirty yellow wallpaper with someone's hands there and a few jars on a tabletop with eyeballs floating inside, all staring at out at you :D I think that would be nice. Unfortunately the one in the real cover isn't staring at anything in particular. Sad. |