Now I’m really never going to get to sleep

First it’s Neil’s snoring (his reason for NOT using the snoring remedy last night? “Let’s see if it actually helps me stop snoring.” IT DOES, THAT’S WHY I BOUGHT IT), now it’s zombie cockroaches being revived, and BY (HUMAN, NOT COCKROACH) SCIENTISTS. Cockroaches are bad enough, I hate those fuckers — why the fuck would a scientist try to un-paralyse them after they’ve been stung by a wasp? It’s like a young researcher saying, Let’s see what happens if we release this virus called smallpox.

*shudder*

Great conversation at lunch, by the way. Mice sneaking into flats so they can use the Internet.

Earliest memories meme

As tagged by Boo!

Tumbling

I was three, in kindergarten (Foochow Methodist Church in Serangoon, for those who care, and yes, I started kindy at three — I was bored staying at home). I’m sure I’ve written about this before. The swings were highly coveted there — it was a race very single day to get to the swings during recess and actually get a go on them. By the way, I think this is why I was on the athletics team when I was in primary school — I’m small and do not have long legs, but the desire for those swings made me run fast.

The swings were the ‘bottom half of a tyre with iron chain fasted on either end’ type — very comfy, and excellent for going super, super high. Being a bundle of nervous energy and not much else was rather good for getting very, very high up (or ‘high, high in the skyyyy…’, as we used to sing).

(What I’ve described so far is a general memory of those times.)

To be completely honest, I do not remember anything about actually getting on the swings, or what we learned in school that day. What I remember with crystal clarity is tumbling backwards — a thump rumble rumble thump in blackness. I don’t remember falling off the swing, I don’t remember when and what stopped me from rolling backwards (probably a wall?). But telling you all I remember is tumbling just doesn’t help create the atmosphere so you can understand the context of this pivotal moment in my life, i.e. the first clear-cut evidence of my total klutziness.

Apparently the principal had to run and ring my mum and gran, and I got stitches!

That was the most exciting memory. Others include doing pull-ups on the crossbar of those same swings although I have no idea why, I think it was meant to be some kind of intimidation tactic, although it should have been clear then that I am a squirt (still three years of age), throwing a tantrum because I didn’t want to wear makeup on the day of my kindy ‘graduation’ concert (you can see my tear-streaked face in the photos, even from that distance, I was 5, I think), falling off yet another swing but it was a different style of swing, and I ended up with my knee twisted up under it and had to take time off school because I couldn’t walk (I was six), sitting on the beach in Hawaii and letting waves crash over us (I was seven).

I reckon I’m meant to tag others to do the meme, but I can’t be bothered.

Maybe it’s the cravings that do it

I’m pretty sure there are those who feel homicidal when in the presence of others who are trying to quit smoking… haha. Feeling like crap initially tends to be the general mood for smokers who quit, right? Drug to stop smoking questioned:

A pill to help people stop smoking is under the spotlight amid reports that it can generate suicidal feelings.

I’m glad I didn’t get that way when I quit. I just got through my Economists way quicker!

All the sentences in this post begin with the letter ‘I’

I feel like a really need to write a book.

It’s got nothing to do with my working at a publisher.

I would never want it to be published. I wouldn’t even try.

I just have so much to say about a certain topic and I need to vent. In private.

It would be a good exercise to turn something negative into something creative.

This weekend I…

  • watched Jonathon Woss on the telly
  • went to a housewarming party
  • watched Law & Order: SVU on the telly
  • wandered around Glasgow (I would give up on buying new clothes when all my decade-plus clothing, the bulk of which I’ve been wearing this past year, starts to fall apart)
  • did the weekly shop at Morrisons (their diesel is slightly cheaper in the current oil price madness)
  • watched Cranford (another humorous moment starring an animal — will this be the hook?)

Very productive, as you can tell.

Definition of obese: fat as fuck ought to do it

It was the headline that did it: Anger as GPs can’t decide on definition of obesity.

Scotland has one of the highest rates of obesity, second only to the US on some league tables.

Not exactly suprising. But this:

Dr Colin Waine, chair of the National Obesity Forum, said: “A very important chronic disease is being subject to a postcode lottery. We have got to see that obesity is not a cosmetic issue. It is probably the biggest health problem that we are facing at this present time.”

For the most part, obesity is not unavoidable — they’ve made a choice to eat lots of food and sit on their arses all day and night. Those with children are setting a bad example. By treating obesity as a disease, they are (once again) relieving the fat fuckers of any responsibility. That doesn’t help anyone.

By all means, institute a policy of designing pedestrian- and bicycle-friendly towns, and making facilities available for people to work out. But for fuck’s sake, make people take responsiblity for problems they brought on themselves. And let Darwin take care of the rest.

Not Muslim, then

Bacon. I want it.

Not ham, not sausage. Bacon. Hot, freshly fried bacon in a roll with an egg.

What’ve I got? A caesar salad.

It is not bacon.

Nader is a freak

I have no freakin’ idea what Nader is saying, and I’ve told him he’s a weirdo, but here he is, doing his best impression of the mad Britney Spears fan:

Watch out for the tears!

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