Archive for October, 2008

How I Got My Ice Cream

I stepped out from the goddamn exam hall feeling like a convict on the first day of parole. The warm outside air massaged my face gracefully, relieving me of all the evil coldness of the hell hall I came out of. It was a very delightful feeling. This is my last paper, I though, what now? Where do I go from here? The possibilities seemed endless. God please show me a sign, I prayed.

It was exactly at that moment that the once soft gentle massaging hands of the warm outside air suddenly became harsh. I started sweating. The sudden change in temperature wasn’t good for me. This weather is killing me. I need to chill. CHILL! That was when I saw my sign… I realized that I needed a goddamn Ice Cream!

The question now was how do I get to my favorite Ice Cream Store? I don’t have car and the goddamn taxi cab fares are fucking insane; not that I blame them. It’s the fucking Economy! Somebody should please send this goddamn Economy on an all expense paid vacation, along with Shopping, Spa treatment and a hot High Class Escort on call 24/7. It needs to fucking chillax! Maybe when it comes back from the vacation relaxed, people can start affording shit around here again. Anyways, what I need right now is a fucking Ice Cream; and I’m going to get it, one way or the other.

Two minutes forty seven seconds later, I convinced three of my friends, one who owns a car to go get ice cream with me. They wanted to eat first, and since I was kinda hungry, I said whatthehell, I’m all for the Peri Peri. Seven minutes thirteen seconds after that, four hungry guys in a saloon car were speeding across town with one goal and one goal only – Get that Peri Chicken!

“Why the fuck do you care?”, I said in my mind when some crazy middle aged lady with really bad makeup asked why we ordered so much food. The whole time she was talking, I was thinking, Someone should get this poor medieval-age lady a modern day mirror, and teach her how to fucking use that shit. Then I realized mirrors probably haven’t changed a lot since the medieval ages. But then I also realize that it’s been five minutes and I was still talking to the weird old lady… and she’s fucking smiling! Are we bonding? I thought. This funny feeling in my stomach, is that our cycles synchronizing already? I sure hope not. It’s probably just hunger. Maybe she’s too goddamn old to even cycle. Why the fuck am I having these unhealthy thoughts on a dining table when there are three whole Peri chickens begging to be devoured? That’s just being rude to the tasty chickens!

I remember we were halfway through the meal when the “The Wristwatch” came up in conversation. I have a thing for wristwatches; I just thought I should mention that, but it has absolutely nothing to do with this story.

“The Wristwatch” was an awesome $10,000 wristwatch I saw on Fathers day when I wanted to take advantage of the sales and get myself another sweet timepiece. Who doesn’t like a discount? Moreover I’m probably going to be a Father some day, so it’s all good.

The thing was that my friends wanted to see “The Wristwatch”. The problem was that I had forgotten the shop I saw it, but then I love a treasure hunt! I immediately gathered all the bits and pieces of memory I had of the awesome watch and made a virtual treasure map in my head. Then I let the Indiana Jones in me lead the great adventure to the Kingdom of the Ridiculously Expensive Wristwatches.

We separated into two groups to look for the watch. The guy with the car and I were on the same team. It took us a good half of an hour to find the store. But the wristwatch wasn’t there. In it’s place, we saw a sign of the coming of the apocalypse in the form of a $13,500 timepiece.

“What makes this fucking expensive?”, my friend asked.

“How the fuck should I know?”, I replied him. “Why don’t you ask the goddamn bloody guy over there?”

The “goddamn bloody guy” in question was in fact not bloody at all. He was a very tired, hungry looking shop attendant that was most definitely bored out-of-his-mind from sitting all week alone with no costumers.

“Excuse me?”, my friend called the guy.

The guy sluggishly dragged his lazy feet over, and the conversation went a little like this –

“Is this thing made from diamonds?”

“No Sir”

“Platinum maybe?”

“No Sir”

“Some kind of rare metal no one knows about yet?”

“I don’t know Sir”

“Then why the hell is it this expensive?”

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t set the prices here”

And with that the shop attendant dragged his lazy ass back to his lonely boring seat. I was the only one that actually heard what the guy really wanted to say –

“WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING KIDS GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS MURTHERFUCKING SHOP SINCE YOU CLEARLY CAN’T AFFORD SHIT IN HERE!!!”

And with that, we left the Kingdom Of the Ridiculously Expensive Wristwatches heroes. Although I’m not entirely sure the nature of our heroic act, or even if there was any at all.

Oh, and the Ice Cream… I almost forgot.

Immediately after our legendary adventure ended, I walked to my favorite Ice Cream store and got two scoops straight out of heaven from the gorgeous counter girl who I’m pretty sure was an angel.

Now that’s the true story of how I got my Ice Cream!

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The College Diary

There I was, sitting in a very big hall full of weird strangers half of whom were as confused as I was. It was quiet, in the sense that no one was talking. The only sound came from an army of rolling black pens mercilessly devouring helpless white sheets of paper. Look at all these poor bastards spilling ink like their lives depended on it, I though to myself. Sadly, I’m one of them. But how did I get here?

Twelve hours before that, I was in a place that closely resembles a prison cafeteria. But when the big old sun goes to bed, and the little stars sneak out to play, it doubles as a study hall for the poor souls known universally by the same sad pathetic name – Students.

There I was, like an out-of-job poor man’s music producer desperately trying to prove his worth, with headphones twice the size of my head, eyes glued to the computer screen, and body moving to the rhythm of the music. I was listening to Coldplay and thinking to myself, Holy fuck! This band rocks! It was at that moment that I had an epiphany – If you don’t listen to music that can be played on an instrument, Die!

“Any form of cheating, or attempting to cheat… Copying or attempting to copy… is punishable by death”

Fuck! I was back in that bloody hell hall. What is it with these goddamn people always repeating the same goddamn instruction? Do they think that we are nothing but senseless animals desperately in need of constant reminding? Or is this just one of those stupid legal disclaimer things that have to be said?

In no time, half the hall was empty and a stack of papers was starting to pile in front. The rest of us poor souls still seated had less than an hour before we will be forcefully thrown out into the cold, whether or not we were ready for it.

The decision to flee this hell came sudden. I’m pretty sure the fact that I had nothing more to write had something to do with it. I quietly put my sheets together and walked to the front of the hall were a suspicious looking man with an ugly tag around his neck that says “INVIGILATOR” collected my papers. He gave me a list that says “ATTENDANCE” on the top, and says that I must sign it. I had no idea why, since I was clearly present and my goddamn papers were proof. Maybe it was another one of those stupid legal things again. All I wanted to do at that moment was sign his goddamn attendance list and leave the bloody hell hall!

Adios paper! I hope I don’t fucking see your goddamn ugly face ever again!