To the BATMOBILE

Sunday, May 22, 2005

rolling though the streets...

"3....2....1.... Gentlemen, start your engines!!"

With my foot on the peddle, hand on the throttle, bladder perpetually bursting, eyes wary of old ladies crossing the road, and my mouth half-open and salivating uncontrollably (which passerbys notice with a kind of guarded amusement, then something not unlike pity), I could not resist the temptation to let loose a scream right from the core of my primal being. "I'm winning!" You had to excuse me of course - it was the first time in 3 races and lasted roughly for a second (before I drove into the barrier at 296km/hr). This made me immensely happy. Even now I feel like a kid who had a very full day at the county fair, tired but deeply satisfied.

Since young, I've always been thrilled by the notion of backstreet racing, of burning rubber, and heart pulpitating action of weaving in and out of city streets, and girls in short skirts (who isn't?). I still remember myself furiously chugging though Parkway Parade in a miniature cheap plastic red motorcar - the epitomy of speed. Till this date, I still insist of spending a dollar to squeeze into a tiny cubicle with seemed to be fitted for a dwarf and lose 4 times consecutively to my friends in a virtual racing game either called Daytona, HotWheels, CyberRacing, SpeedRacing or something else thats made by Konami. In the above-mentioned scenarios, I always seemed to have an inherent desire to carry out several tree resiliency tests every few seconds by veering off the intended path.

I still have dreams of myself pulling up next to a club in a hot pink (sexxxy!) cadillac and having an armful of scantily-clad girls hop into the back before driving off into the night. Such wishful thinking followed others of similar intent (e.g. picking up singing/the guitar to serenade a girlfriend) to a quick demise. Well, that is, if I get a girlfriend.

On a slightly different note, it was a shocker for me to find out after conversing with Shane Gan's girlfriend, that a more or less complete stranger knows I actually exist. Butlerman - the man behind the scenes, the living mystery, the unknown one has been found out! (wipe that disbelieving look of your face... disbeliever. I used to wallow in self-pity that nobody knew me. It was nice to know anyway.)

Maybe this time round, I'll stick to public transport.

Till next time, my dearly-beloved readers!
Drive safely,
TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 11:46 pm
link |

0 Comments:

Want to Post a Comment?

back to main page