![]() |
|
To the BATMOBILE |
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Midway through an extremely emotional week, my life nearly ended itself in one final, traumatic, climax. I did not try to jump out the window - Instead, I entered one of my condominiums lift after yet another disastrous day of my very existence. Unconsolable and weeping like a maniac at my own pathetic state of affairs, and belting out lyrics of "Bleeding Heart" by Acceptance (Kurt Cobain-style), I failed to notice the lift's tiny Post-it note claiming "Under repairs - Danger", now blown away (or ripped off by one of my many arch-nemesis'). What happened next was nothing unlike a runaway Dreamworld rollercoaster combined with the atomic bomb blasts of Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined. The very moment my finger left the 18th floor button, the beast of a lift lurched into life, rocketing skywards at roughly five floors per second, before grinding to a shuddering halt at the 7th floor, and dropping into freefall, past the ground floor, and revealing a dark, damp cavern filled with steam, valves and shadowy huddled figures (thus answering my questions of "Where does Mandarin Gardens get their endless supply of neandrathal-like security guards?"). 5 panic-filled, knee-trembling minutes of pleading with a mechanic through a press-red-button-for-help system that obviously was outdated when Christianity was founded, I emerged, even more traumatised then before, and my shoes damp with urine. With my life reaching its conclusion faster than I expected, I have come to realise and thus understand some part of Butlerman's life mysteries, before my demise takes that chance away (by my own hand, a disgruntled taxi driver, or my dog deciding to have a go its daily go at my leg and severing a major artery). As it seems, each time a girl starts talking to me out of the blue (hell, even a guy, homosexual or not), my ego inflates exponentially, only to be shattered by something akin to a kick in the nuts, as after a periods of three days, I slowly fade out of existence once more. I have dubbed this "Butlerman's 5-day-or-so Free Trial"... Ladies and gentleman, step right up to recieve your free copy... TO THE BATMOBILE |
The Writer
highly confidential Martin Butler, or affectionally known to others as "Butler", "Butlerman", or just "Butt". -Most eligible bachelor of 2004-every year henceforth - step aside Mr.Clooney -Doesn't particularly enjoy much anymore having been desensitized as part of a cruel torturous regime a.k.a IB... -Dislikes everything he doesn't like... Nov 8th - Remember the date! MSN - butlerwantsu@hotmail.com (Add with caution) Archives
November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 April 2007 September 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 October 2008 December 2008 January 2009 March 2009 May 2009 October 2009 November 2009 Links
Under permanent state of reconstruction - you may start by asking me to link you If I have forgotten anybody (or maybe I just don't know enough people...), let me know Blogger Yahoo! MSN Photobucket the Garage cum Batforum
a tense atmosphere of hot air, greasy stains and the endless grumbles of the engine - and that's only me |
Designed by mela | Image from stock.xchng
|