28 Aug 2008

I want out

They say tears clean up your heart and its good to cry. It is good to cry when you choose to cry. but what about when you don't even want to? what about when they just flow?

What about when you have cried and cried and you have nothing left and still your heart pours out? The dryness of what it leaks is what drives you to the abyss of rage so deep you want to ran away? Where do you run to? How do you get away from yourself? How do you live with you if you are fed up with you? What about then the darkness in your heart is so great you need a solar system so show you round you feelings? What if those feelings are the ones that hurt most and you cannot kick them out as easy as they walked in?

What about when you are scared of your own mind? what if being there is what makes you want to tear out your gorge out your eyes?? What if every thought is a sharp knife that is continuously driven into you guts, twisted, turned, wrenched and driven back in again?

Where do you go if your mind is one place you'd rather not be? What do you do if the person you are, the one you are becoming is the one person you want to take out? What if the person who is being you, the person you are being - you cannot handle? Because that person will not listen to reason and you have no strength to talk to that person anymore?

What if you are loosing control of you?

What then?

27 Aug 2008

Hail to the Prince (Prt 1)

I got an email from an avid reader who happens not to have a blog (so cannot link him) who asked who this DVP I talk about is. I told him that DVP is the man in my life, the guy who makes this angel love being on earth and love the fact that she did fall in the first place. I thought of referring him to earlier posts, but decided to generous and share the story.

So here goes the fairy tale. All true.

Not a long time ago, not so much in the heart of Africa- more like in the arm of Africa - there fell petite angel of about 5 feet. Where she had come from, she had been a delight to everyone who met her and a constant source of laughter. Her cheekiness was known over the the clouds of heaven. Sadly, her trusting nature was abused within years of her falling. The inhabitants of her new dwellings were lying to her, being mean to her, and taking advantage of her really helpful, sweet and forgiving nature. slowly by slowly, the laughter in her eyes began to dwindle, the smile began to fade, and her playfulness subsided.

She grew very unhappy and wanted to go back to where she came from. Unfortunately, that was not possible. She had to stay on until her mortal being grew old, the iniquities of having fallen had been cleaned away and her soul had gone back to being the angel that fell about 2 decades ago. She learnt that it was up to her to make her stay here a happy one and even more so fulfilling. She hated it, threw a BF. She cursed, ranted and raved, no one cared. She met a human, who was different from her. Other humans like him were called 'boys'. She liked this particular one, but after a while she discovered he was not the one to make her life happier. However, she figured that another one of those 'boys' was destined to be the one that made her very happy. Humans called that boy 'the one'. In her Angel World, that boy was the other side of her. He was the part of her that not only kept her jolly, he took over when she was too tired, both mentally and physically. It dawned on her on after 2 decades that her other half had been dropped. What they had failed to tell her is that that is the sole reason she had been sent over - to look for her half. The process of being dropped caused one to lose earthly time and this could mean that her 'one' had arrived either before or after her. Dark Angel did her research, and found out that her 'one' could have fallen 10 or so earth years before her. She was 100% sure that he had no fallen after her. Her quest was set - to look for that 'boy' and start the path to going back home.

To be continued..

This Angel would have fallen worse had she been here

Crown jewels chopped

Not those ones. The Brits can go back to bed. Those are still standing. intact. working. and doing whatever crown jewels do when they are not on the head. or giving head.

Other crown jewels.More important ones. Royal in their own special way. Unique some might even say. But 'some' say a lot of things.

I agree it's a rite of passage, and maybe the men need to go through at least some kind of a painful experience, maybe to equate it to something close to childbirth. Though this point is redundant for those who undergo it during birth, which I think is a mothers freudian way of getting back at the boy on behalf of all the women's lives his willy is going to mess up.

So what happens when this well intentioned rite of passage becomes a horror of passage? I know the men right now have stopped scrolling and are holding them goods tightly. The knife slipped, and the tip cut off by mistake...they said. It's hard and brave enough to let anything sharp come close your bag o' goodies... and then it slips? Not good. Mistake. Never a good word to use. An even worse word to use is 'might not work'...

Daddy dearest, one who took his boy to this ceremony (wonder if they still look at it as that), said that he had 'Learnt a bitter lesson'. You think, daddy?? It's the effing boy's manhood that was 'accidentally' cut and 'might not work' whe he finally needs it and you think you leanrt a bitter lesson? Pray, do tell. which? Yours is still intact!!! So he might be able to pee. Thank heavens for small mercies. Really small since now they have been chopped off.

Oh, and he is not suing! His boy, at 16 has just been rendered useless (not saying that men don't have other uses... I'm just having a hard time listing them) and he is not suing??

I'd be suing over here

14 Aug 2008

IgNobel awards for useless research

Scientists at St Andrews University hit the headlines after announcing a study into the reasons why people blush.

Experiments will include asking volunteers to suck a baby's bottle, and to sing the national anthem in front of friends or strangers.

But if that sounds weird, it's nothing compared with some of the more outlandish studies academics around the world have dreamed up to pass the time.

Some of the most unusual have even picked up prizes for their wackiness. The Ig Nobel Awards are given to those which "make people laugh and then think".

Here's 10 other studies which left the rest of us scratching our heads for all the wrong reasons.


New York-based food psychologist Dr Brian Wansink is known for his quirky research methods into our eating habits, but this was his high point.

By feeding people tomato soup from bowls with hidden tubes that kept them filled, he found people would eat 73 per cent more than they would otherwise, but they wouldn't feel any more full.


After realising that very little research had been carried out into sword-swallowing, radiologist Dr BrianWhitcombe set about interviewing nearly 50 practitioners of the art.

He concluded injuries were rare and a sore throat was only likely when learning, repeating performances frequently or using odd-shaped or multiple swords.


We've all been there. You take your hamster on holiday only to find the poor creature is jet-lagged when you arrive.

Now scientists from Argentina have an answer - stick some Viagara in its water. They found one dose of the impotence drug helped the animals recover from jet-lag twice as fast. The research might sound comical, but it does raise the question of whether Viagara could have the same effect on humans.


Chances are you've never wondered why a piece of dry spaghetti will break into three rather than two pieces.

But it was keeping some scientists in Paris awake at night, so they started conducting experiments using a high-speed camera and plenty of pasta.

They concluded the initial break created shock waves leading to more breaks.


We all know a woodpecker without a beak is called a headbanger but, for some boffins at the University of California, the more important question was why the birds never got a headache.

So they set about examining the creature's cranium, and found that it works like a perfect shock absorber, with muscles contracting a millisecond before every strike to cushion the impact.


It's only in our more questionable dreams that we would think about doing this. It would also be natural to assume that the goo would make swimming harder.

But two researchers at the University of Wisconsin weren't so sure, so they filled a pool with a food-thickening agent and timed swimmers to see how they got on.

The goo didn't make the swimmers any slower as they could push harder against it. That could be worth remembering the next time you're being pursued through a vat of syrup.


Picture the scene. You're a handsome Aussie sheep-shearer who has to move your stubborn ewe to the right spot so you can get at that wool. What do you do?

Thankfully, a team of Antipodean researchers have the answer. They looked at everything from wood to plastic to wire mesh, and eventually concluded that dragging a sheep across a sloping wooden floor with the boards running parallel to the direction of the drag required the least force.


Neuroscientists in Barcelona found rats can't understand Dutch or Japanese sentences played to them backwards.

The startling revelation came after 64 rats were trained to press a lever when they heard either of the languages played forwards. When played backwards, the rats had no idea what was going on.

The study was to explore the way in which languages are acquired by the brain.


There's nothing worse than a flat pint, but how long can you leave beer before the froth disappears?

That was the question answered by German physicist Arnd Leike, who proved that beer froth follows the mathematical law of exponential decay.

He used three different beers, measuring the amount of froth 15 times over a period of six minutes.

Leike claimed the experiment was aimed at helping his students understand how to test their theories, although he admitted to drinking the beer afterwards.


It's difficult to tell when a clam is depressed. They don't have trouble sleeping, they don't get emotional and they don't have a short temper.

So you wouldn't imagine that giving them Prozac would have much of an effect. But US scientist Peter Fong had other ideas.

He fed the anti-depressant to fingernail clams and zebra mussels, and, while he never found out if they cheered up, he did manage to jump-start their reproductive behaviour.

A while back, I did post this on Australian Scientists....enjoy!

stolen from Daily Record UK.

Where do there scientists hang out?

A dose of my favourite stand-up comedian

10) "Families is where our nation finds hope, where wings take dream." —LaCrosse, Wis., Oct. 18, 2000

9) "I know how hard it is for you to put food on your family." —Greater Nashua, N.H., Jan. 27, 2000

8) "I hear there's rumors on the Internets that we're going to have a draft." —second presidential debate, St. Louis, Mo., Oct. 8, 2004

7) "I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully." —Saginaw, Mich., Sept. 29, 2000

6) "You work three jobs? … Uniquely American, isn't it? I mean, that is fantastic that you're doing that." —to a divorced mother of three, Omaha, Nebraska, Feb. 4, 2005

5) "Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB-GYNs aren't able to practice their love with women all across this country." —Poplar Bluff, Mo., Sept. 6, 2004

4) "They misunderestimated me." —Bentonville, Ark., Nov. 6, 2000

3) "Rarely is the questioned asked: Is our children learning?" —Florence, S.C., Jan. 11, 2000

2) "Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." —Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004

More stand-up comedians target="_blank">here

13 Aug 2008

Cartoon sex

Other artists hang out here

If I Were A Sport...

You Are Boxing

You are assertive, strong, and downright aggressive.

You have the power to demolish your opponent...

And you have the endurance to make sure the job is finished.

Stole the idea from Amy

This Angel would have fallen worse had she been here

Wordless Wednesday #3 - A Zimbwabe Cheque

More cheques coming your way

What Happens...

Life is what you wish you had but you don't. It is what you see from a far and yearn for, or in some cases, actually pursue it diligently, if only to have a taste of what you think other out there might be enjoying. Life wheezes pass you like that cab that won't stop when you hail, but will not hesitate to splash muddy waters on you on the pavement. And as you watch it speed away, you realize that you have just been dealt a very bad hand, and lady luck has retired, not for the night, but for the decade. Every morning on my way to work, I'm forced to stare outside the car window for long (long is used loosely as this could stand for 2 – 5 minutes) and sometimes, I do actually pay attention. Sometime last week, I observed, really observed. I become aware of a small pickup truck that I meet with at around the same time every day. It's a very nondescript car, and you are likely to ignore it. What made me notice it were the chickens in the back. The owners have constructed a mesh cage and horizontally divided in into two, thus making a double storied kind of cage. They pack chickens – hybrid broilers / or old layers on their way to the slaughters house – that is my assumption – in these two stories. The chickens sit quietly, almost demurely, as if cognizant of what awaits them.

Is this any different from my journey to work? Do the chickens also look at me and feel that fore boarding sense of worry and pity towards me? Do they look at me with their tiny beady eyes and wonder whether I know what awaits me, what the day that the night worked behind the veil of darkness to so deftly craft hold for me? Douglas Adams almost convinced me that mice do run earth. In one of these traffic snarls, my house mate and I got into a conversation, well more of a speculation about Mice and Cockroaches. I will give them first Caps as this will somehow recognize their yet-to-be-proved dominance. Cockroaches will be the only surviving living things on the planet when we finally fry ourselves up with UV rays and other cosmic rays and their off springs, radioisotopes. And we wondered, is there a scientific research, maybe in the USA, or Russia or even Japan, to make a replica of the cockroaches shell for humans to wear protectively, when we can no longer make higher SPF's? And Mice actually do run the universe; that every little thing we do, no matter how ingenious is orchestrated by Mice. Which is what got me wondering to my housemate in the car, what of the mice that scientists conduct research on? He thought that those were the prisoners or pariahs of the Mice kingdom, and being subjects of us lowly brained beings is their punishment. I thought he had a point. Imagine the lowest animal you can think of on earth, actually, expand your thinking, in the universe. Now imagine you being condemned to be the subject of its meaningless research.

What I fail to understand is why you would allow yourself to be one of the dirtiest animals on earth, especially if you controlled Earth. I mean, look at all the advancement we have thereof. Even in my pea sized brain (I'm looking at my brain from a Mice Point of view); I would surely want to be a greater animal. It's like God choosing to send Jesus as a pig to rescue the human race. I would call that very bad mathematics. Anyway, he had a point, if far fetched at that! We could be controlled by the lowest form of life without our knowledge. Apparently even dolphins had a revelation of what the world was headed into (notice I said what not where), and have been trying to tell us for years. Can't blame me, and other human forms for not listening. Their language is harder than Danish. And take it from me, Danish is not a language, it's a advanced form of galactic medley of confusion (Sorry Hunny, you can kill me later, you know how best)

Happens that religion can explain most things and hence rest our troubled minds as to why we exist. Science can also do that. Big Bang is where the two meets. They fight to differ, and to me, the harder they fight the more similar they get. Like an old married couple. Think about it, if an old married couple to us is along the lines of 10 years to 60years (life expectancy limits the bracket), what about centuries, and still forced to co-habit in the same house (read Earth), deal with the same kids (read Humans) century after century? I'm not a fan of religion. I was born into one. And somewhere along the way I felt like a groupie on some really confused rock band. I got the concept of what religion tried to do, but I saw it fail. Then I wondered why I was in the religion I professed to be in. I got one answer; because I was born into it.

When I really thought about it, I decided to get off the bandwagon and watch from the sidelines. I think this is when I should confess that my not so favourite pastime is thinking, and worrying. About things like; are there homeless children in Alaska, whether the ant that I stepped on accidentally this morning knew that it was going to die today, and if so, it say a proper goodbye to its family, (I worry about that with humans too) whether my pal knew her mother would be dead this time last year, and if so, what would she have done differently, whether I will celebrate my 30th birthday...anyway, that was not the line of thought I was going to follow in this blog.

You believe in the religion you believe in because you (your soul, your nature) cannot accept that death is finality. There has to be something more, otherwise, why do we bother living, why not kill ourselves and get over with. Well, I think suicide bombers have got that covered. That is why we go through the motions of life, because we have given ourselves reasons to, because we humans need justifications, reasons and answers in to Why, which when married to How , breeds very naughty children, namely, When, Where, and the twins, What and Who. We then devote our lives to finding answers, fighting about it, and proving the dominant faith and downplaying the rest.

Are the dolphins really that cleaver they might actually have something to say that if we do not heed to, will lead us to dire straits? If we stopped cutting into Mice and just observed them, would we learn something valuable and hence settle the Ultimate Question? I bet if I were to choose an animal, I would pick Ants. Sorry I know they are not animals... for animals I would pick the pig, for its celebrated orgasmic capabilities. But then, I figured that the only thing I have to worry about in this life is living to the ultimate satisfaction in everything I do, as I don't know what awaits me ahead, and if I spent too much time worrying, fighting and arguing about it, I'll lose on the best things.

Busy as I may claim to be enjoying the best of things, I do worry though; I'm still human, no matter how hard I fight it. Do I worry about religion? Yes. Why? Because it was ingrained in me from the day I learnt the difference between the beauty of fire from a far and the beauty of fire on my fingers. And just when I convince myself that I have safely crossed to the other side without the proverbial troll riding and digging deep into my back, it sinks it claws, from whatever end of my body it was hanging on to. But then I have that special innate ability to be stubborn, even unto myself. Don't' forget that other special gift of not being able to concentrate on anything for more than the time my brain will allow. It selective on what it really wants to concentrate on and there is nothing I can do about that, in this case, thankfully!

Making excuses is not my specialty. But I do like listening to them and wondering how best I would have put it, were it left to me. And by gawd, I would have an excuse for everything in the universe, and to me, everything interconnects. By some cosmic power of pulling elements towards the centre of the earth, all things hurtle towards each other, like the Bermuda Triangle, only at a slower pace. Religion, politics, relationships, business, war... all of it. It's all to satisfying so sort of deficient.

A quest by the human race to prove something to each other, to themselves. Unexplainable does not mean inexplicable. Just because something is unexplainable does not mean that paranormal forces must have been involved, only that we haven't found the explanation for it yet. I could start a whole school of thought and argument with true and untrue theories in accordance with that statement, but I'm not that inspired today. Take it as it is, mull over it in your sleep.

Living without knowing what you are here for, what your purpose in life is, where you are headed is frustrating. Which is why we have higher stress levels that any other living organism. That elevated stress level of animals, say a chimp will be to find it's tree cut down, or it's favorite spot occupied by a pride of lions. Why don't you try for a change, just not think about anything? Live today like you don't have another day like this. Actually, you don't. Today is never a continuation of yesterday, and neither will it ever be a prelude to tomorrow. Different entities, like you and your parents or siblings. You are related, but you are not the extension of any of your family, not even your twin. Think of the days septets, their mother being the week they fall in, their father the month. In the end you will have a father that has 4 wives, and each has 7 kids. Now take 11 more families like that and you have a clan called Year. The only relationship they have? Association by marriage, birth, nothing more.

This blog was not about religion, life, etc. It was about nothing really. It was my weird way of trying to prove something. Now as you were busy reading this, you failed to notice that the first words of every paragraph formed a sentence: Life Is What Happens When You Are Busy Making A Living. Get my drift?

Orignally posted on http://blog.myspace.com/darkangelme on Nov, 6th 2007.

Wordless Wednesday #2

Bottle opener gifts I don't want for Christmas

Though you can get me something from here here

Wordless Wednesday #1

I'm inspired

And more inspiration here

Why I'm not sending my son to Boy Scout

Boy Scouts Letter to Mom & Dad --

Dear Mom and Dad,

Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw
the flood on TV and are worried. We are okay. Only one of our
tents and two sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us
got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for
Adam when it happened.

Oh yes, please call Adam's mother and tell her he is okay. He
can't write because of the cast. I got to ride in one of the
search and rescue jeeps. It was neat. We never would have found
Adam in the dark if it hadn't been for the lightning.

Scoutmaster Keith got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone
without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him, but it was
during the fire so he probably didn't hear him. Did you know
that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up?

The wet wood didn't burn, but one of the tents did and also some
of our clothes. Jimmie is going to look weird until his hair
grows back.

We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Keith gets the bus
fixed. It wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked
okay when we left. Scoutmaster Keith said that with a bus that
old you have to expect something to break down; that's probably
why he can't get insurance.

We think it's a neat bus. He doesn't care if we get it dirty and
if it's hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders. It gets
pretty hot with 45 people in a bus made for 24. He let us take
turns riding in the trailer until the highway patrol man stopped
and talked to us.

Scoutmaster Keith is a neat guy. Don't worry, he is a good
driver. In fact, he is teaching Jessie how to drive on the
mountain roads where there isn't any cops. All we ever see up
there are logging trucks.

This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and
swimming out to the rapids. Scoutmaster Keith wouldn't let me
because I can't swim, and Adam was afraid he would sink because
of his cast, it's concrete because we didn't have any plaster,
so he let us take the canoe out. It was great. You can still see
some of the trees under the water from the flood.

Scoutmaster Keith isn't crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn't
even get mad about the life jackets. He has to spend a lot of
time working on the bus so we are trying not to cause him any

Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When
Andrew dived into the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a
tourniquet works.

Steven and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Keith said it probably
was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they
got sick that way with food they ate in prison. I'm so glad he
got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out
how to get things done better while he was doing his time. By
the way, what is a pedal-file?

I have to go now. We are going to town to mail our letters and
buy some more beer and ammo. Don't worry about anything. We are
fine and tonight it's my turn to sleep in the Scoutmaster's tent.



Scoutmaster Keith spends his nights here

8 Aug 2008

What I Want

Such a thing as you is heat that sends my wanting, and me with barely a taste, but to imagine a touch of the divine warmth. One word, less a talk of attraction and it's prevailing want is flown in me. The thought of being wrapped in you quickens me…pulls all my attentions to that end. To the illusions of you pressed and pushing, a flooding of two, too close, and trying for more…the heat pours and pulses, pushes quickens.

You say burnt out? Only, perhaps, momentarily in the afterglow of you laid out…and…with patient touch…felt, freely…tasted…teased, and then…the headfirst tip into that fires slow burn. Intertwined the delights dance with anticipations flicker. Then…worked for…pushed and pounded at, realized by the fanning breath of feeling expectation realized…explodes into now. Hearts opened, the desires wet realization soothing the flames want-full heat, for…perhaps…a moment. Before the pull of that friction starts to turn with the promise of that cleansing and consuming flame.

I want you to leave me breathless. And not even be aware that I had been holding my breath. Then in my mind’s eye I will see it, I will see you but I dare not and will will myself to not see... us. And my heartbeat will quicken, so much so that I will fear that others will hear it, start to notice that my chest is rising and falling, not ever-so-gently, but with movements that could only come from excitement deep within places untold.

I will feel a spark ignite, falter, unsure at first, holding back… yet I will feel its warmth, willing to be let out, wishing to explore, wanting, needing. Then fell the warmth develop to a bigger ember, deep within my stomach and spreading...fast. Wonder whether I should fight it, or let it stretch, let it become a wildfire, that would be unstoppable, that would consume everything on its way that would leave me quenched, fulfilled and satiated. But the strength to fight it is what will elude me, or maybe I just won't want to.

All I will want is to keep this need to feel, to have, to know. I will dare not look at the aftermath, dare not think what comes next. I will want to bask in that heat that you speak of…the heat that I feel, the heat that burns the deepest parts of me, the heats that leaves me wanting, craving, writhing in want to be filled, to be possessed, deep, over and over again, and then left dizzy and spinning. I will want not know where it ends and where it begins, where chocolate meets vanilla and only want to know of when all is visible is one; one that moves in unison, giving, taking, receiving, filling, pleasing, pleasuring immensely, incomprehensibly.

5 Aug 2008

Why So Serious?

I have no relationship with him. I have never met, and now, never will. I would not have called myself a fan. And if you had asked me some of the people I would have loved to meet in my lifetime, he probably would not have been one of them.


Yesterday, I cried for him. From the minute he came on screen, my eyes welled with tears. My heart skipped a beat, failed to go back to the usual tempo, smashed wildly against my ribs. No one seemed to feel what i was feeling then. Even my movie date observed that my reaction was very visible upon seeing him.


I cried some more. The recurring image I have of him is masses of blond curly hair, disarming smile and forever pools of chocolate eyes. His work is brilliant, picking roles that portray fights and struggles against the public to rise beyond.


I thought about his last performance. The sheer brilliance and execution of talent unmatched and unrivalled. The ability to become another human being, step out of yourself to embrace and become a spirit so dark the night folds away in fear of it.


Be able to epitomise that in a way that surpasses people's understanding, and still be able to see you as the person that you are- shy, beautiful of soul and of face, talented and still so unpretentious.

I cried some more, when the credits rolled. The theatre hushed and i could feel my thoughts mingle with the rest of the audience. He's gone and that is what he left us with - an epically brilliant performance never to be duplicated or even equalled.


I went and added my signature to the petition to nominate Heath for an Oscar- because it would be just wrong if he didn't!

and a tribute to him:

How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarre'd the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,
But day by night and night by day oppress'd,
And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger.

Today even here does not make me smile.

4 Aug 2008

I'm coming out of the closet...

no, not that one you pervert. The other one.

Yes, the one without the sign on. You see, I will never open the other one for
other people's sake. Because of the stuff that will come tumbling out, some of which might hit you and give you a concussion the size of Texas, look like this >

We hardly come out of clean closets, otherwise, they'd be no reason to come out. It would not be as fun if we had to come out of such

Thinking about it, i do think I'm NOT coming of that closet. Why? because it's the only place I feel safe. Because just looking at it makes my insides calm. I love order. So much so that it does affect my relationships. Which is the very opposite of my personality, as I thrive on spontaneity. I'm obsessive compulsive. I like my clothes folded in a certain way, I like my shoes arranged in a certain order and i like my movies and books arranged in a certain order. I have colour codes for my bras (and even a men's guide to bras that has been the single post that generates all my blog traffic!).

Chicago, Illinois arrived on "Even Angels Fall....: Men's Guide to Bra sizes"

Bedford, Bedfordshire arrived from images.google.co.uk on "Even Angels Fall....: Men's Guide to Bra sizes"

Irving, Texas arrived on "Even Angels Fall...."

Stockholm, Stockholms Lan left "Even Angels Fall....: Men's Guide to Bra sizes" via bp3.blogger.com

Stockholm, Stockholms Lan arrived on "Even Angels Fall....: Men's Guide to Bra sizes"

Conway, Arkansas arrived on "Even Angels Fall...."

Düsseldorf, Nordrhein-Westfalen arrived on "Even Angels Fall....: Men's Guide to Bra sizes"

and that is based on a slow day!

I went to Banes and Nobles in Santa Monica to buy a few movies. I was in the Series section and for the love of me, I could not find Kyle XY. It looked as if the arranging was done alphabetically from the top shelves, but as i moved towards the middle, the order seemed to have been lost. I think the shop attendants had figured that they could fool you up to about the letter 'F' then throw in all the DVDs haphazardly. I could not stand it. Could not stand see Family Guy right next to House MD and Six Feet Under besides Friends. So i started arranging them. One by one, I put the DVD's in their right places. I did not think it was strange until one of the shop attendants came over and tapped me on the shoulder.

Can I help you, he said.
Yeah, I'm looking for Kyle XY . I said.
For a minute there i thought you were arranging the DVDs. He chuckled
I was. I told him, as a matter of factly.

He looked at me very strangely. I told him i could not stand the DVDs being that disorderly. He thought it was the funniest thing he's ever heard and shared it with the shop manager. After a few jokes, i did actually get Kyle XY and he threw in the TV show, Dexter for free!

DVP, however does not share the sentiments. Not when I kick him out of bed so to re-make it as I cannot sleep in a bed where the sheets are not straight enough. The first time it happened, he thought I was kidding. Before, he would make the bed and I would re-make it. It irritated him, but he learnt to live with the fact that I cannot stand a badly made bed. Now he does not even bother, which drives me mad The same way I cannot stand the fact that OCD is spelt that way. I want. My mind refuses to let O come before C and D. and CDO would do fine for me. Like the way this does just fine for me.