To the BATMOBILE |
Sunday, September 04, 2005
With each progressing second, my knuckles grew whiter, my knees trembled move, and beads of sweat trickled down my shirt (which I was quite sure the uncle was looking down into). Screams of "mercy" and prayers leapt unbidden from my lips as I literally melted into pools of sweat in the expert hands of some man (Take it as you will - Ladies, just know I'm straight and highly available). Finally I heard that anticipated *click* and shot into the air with a joyous "Hallelujah!", and rays of heavenly light speared through omnimous clouds, as they parted in a climatic chorus of angelic choir voices. Five, extremely surreal and ecstatic seconds later, I realised that it was just my belt buckle buckling (pardon the pun - one cannot help oneself) under the increasing pressure. Then followed a burst of fiery pain in my ample left earlobe, and I felt myself falling... Rudely slapped into consciousness in order to pay for my brand new piercing (my virgin experience), I hastily wringed dry my shirt of tears, lamely citing the flu for the excessive production of snot, and then mopped up the amazing amounts of blood my nose managed to leak in the presence of a splitsecond of sharp pain. An hour after the ordeal, safe at home away from the prying eyes of the world (being a superhero brings with it a certain amount of media attention), I spent an eternity practicing an imaginary (and very improbable) sequence of dialogue with the girl of my dreams. The trick of the whole thing (speaking from my vast experience of imaginary dialogues), would be to lie - alot. Her : "So where did you get it done?" Me : "Where? (Insert hearty laught) Why, I did it at home with a plier and a twisted nail" Her : "Gosh, did it hurt?" Me : "Hurt? Butlerman feel pain? Hah! (Hoist bag onto my broad shoulders, and give her the man-of-the-mountain wink)" Speaking of surreal experiences, the following night, I had the most pleasant dream of recent times, where I was a ravishing entrepreneur in an important seminar, and I was seated next to a beauty not unlike Cheryl Fox (well, the woman from Singapores Brainiest Kids - whatever her name is), and ended up talking to her. You ought to have dreams occasionally, don't you. 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
|