To the BATMOBILE

Friday, May 26, 2006

parental advisory : may cause death

People around the world would tell you that Butlerman is afraid of no supernatural power. After all, everyone else should be afraid of the powers of Butlerman himself.

People who know Butlerman that little bit more would tell you Butlerman screams worse than a little girl when watching any scary movie, from Saw 2 to Barney the (Evil Vengeance-Seeking Blood-Hungering) Dinosaur.

Butlerman himself would tell you that he was stranded, alone, and afraid at Queensway Shopping Centre for two consecutive days (Friday: To purchase Puma Clydes and Saturday: To pass the time while waiting for the rest of the rugby team to appear for the supposed "Rugby" BBQ party at Normanton Park to take place), due to untimely thunderstorms. I was never on good terms with the various deities placed in charge of "Luck" in their respective pantheons of religions.

After surviving a painful and thoroughly distressing soaking (with my bloodcurling cries of pain shaking the likes of Hannibal Lector himself), and having made my way to Normanton Park after spending an hour at Queensway due to the marvelous time-adhereing abilities of the ACS(I) Rugby Team, I decided to proceed to the nearest toilet to relieve myself (akin to releasing a dammed Niagara Falls)/reapply my mascara.

What caught my eye was this poor, seemingly homeless old citizen (he had his toiletries with him) giving himself a shave in the toilet. Deciding this activity of self-grooming was nothing odd, as I myself was no stranger to rearranging my hair into a arresting array of spikes in front of the mirror after every shower for my own amusement, I thought no further of it.

Five hours later, at the unearthly hour of a quarter to midnight, having drunk more than my fair share of carbon dioxide/Cola, I found myself once more having the urge to tear off my shorts and urinate in public. In lieu of the parents present, and a couple of security guards, I hastened my way to the same toilet. Lo and behold! Right before my very eyes was this same man, still busy with his razor, with his facial hair in the same half-shaven state as that of 5 hours ago, and quite oblivious the growing puddle of urine beneath me.

I'm not taking the unlikely chance that this man was no denizen of the Underworld, and am therefore spreading the truth far and wide cometh the hour when my corpse would be found in my room, having been shaved to death (grated cheese comes to mind). Besides, as most horrror movies go (a la "The Ring") if you've read thus far, you've probably doomed yourself to a similar fate. I'd enjoy the company in the afterlife.

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 12:02 am
link | 0 comments

Sunday, May 21, 2006

a strange frame of mind.

I have come to realise something from the past several days, living on a diet of tasty japanese jellies, romance comedies (Notting Hill, Four Weddings and a Funeral, so on and so forth...) and the odd cheese omelette, which I may add, I cooked myself - and am still alive to tell the tale. This is something that can only be realised after surviving on a diet of tasy japanese jellies (important to note that they are of the peach variety - more on this later) and romance comedies etc etc. Most importantly of course, being the romance comedies.

Whereas once upon a time I was part of an elite squad of genetically modified supertroopers vent on conquering the world through various means of strongarm tactics, a fearsome gang known throughout the lands as... "The Christmas Gang". (Truly, a name that inspires terror), the relationship seemingly soured for a great deal of time, something which till now I cannot understand.

I don't usually like to ramble on about such an emotional turn of events for it makes poor reading (I'm quite sure I lost most of your interest by now - yes you, that one reader). Still, fans be rest assured that my heart slowly tears as my tagboard (finally justifying all that effort to set it up. It was a torturous HTML experience) shows signs of some recognition from my dear friends.

As my tagboard seems to have taken a new breath of life (I fear of speaking too soon), I am feeling decidedly peachy (oh, the wonders of foreshadowing in the works of literature. Who would knew peaches -> peachy?). My swollen ego has grown to a greater capacity at the sound of a new fan proclaiming the loveliness of my face. Life has seemed generous of late...

It would not be unwise, knowing my luck, to go and make preparations for the worst case scenario following this series of events...

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 9:10 pm
link | 0 comments

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

murder!

1050 hours, Space Frame, ACS(Independent)
I found myself striding forth purposefully into the great halls of ACS(I) early yesterday morning, with great intent on aceing/marginally passing my Biology Practical that even the sound of my footstep issued forth triumphant "Hallelujah"'s.

I had more than a quarter of an hour before my practical to burn by daydreaming about scandalously bare specimens of water chestnuts and long beans. Well, that was the plan, till I got accosted by a nasty piece of work masquerading as a middle aged woman. Prodding her stubby finger into my chest to gain my attention as I tried to walk over her and keep my hopes of an illicit imaginary outing with my biology experiments alive (or tried to, as she was up to my belly button and ended up sticking her finger in an otherwise undiscovered but extremely painful crack in between my kneecap and my shin), she was in a great frenzy to get from the old administrave office to the new one 200metres away.

Several minutes worth of finger pointing (the non-vulgar sort), elaborate diagram drawing and occult demonic sacrifices later, she still harboured the belief I was directing her to a labrynth beset with traps that would make Sean Connery shiver. It was now 1100.

Ruing the lack of a swiss army knife in my backpocket to whip out and spear her through her black heart (though even in ideal circumstance it would take me twenty minutes to identify which was the blade and the surprise would be gone. I'd be better off beating her around the head with the handle). She seemed to get even more worked up when I began absentmindedly running my finger across my neck.

It all culminated in her proclaiming out loud "I'm starting to get exasperated with you... So you mean you exit through that door?", further illustrating her point by stabbing my foot with the heel her leather stiletto boots. It was then which I shot her. It became increasingly obvious that I was dealing with someone who had less IQ than the doorway I was attempting to direct her through, and I decided for the benefit of her corpse that I would demonstrate walking through that orifice to show that no, there was no deadly pressure-released spike trap ready to impale her.
If you ever happen to walk by that particular doorway during the course of the next few months, pay no heed to the rotting stench emanating from behind one of the potted plants. Her body's hidden there, next to the boy who had proclaimed loudly (and very foolishly) in front of me that the Additional Math paper was easy.

In retrospect, I probably did her a favour. Seeing as how her son (or daughter, whichever the case may be) is from ACS, she'd probably be driven to suicide soon anyway.
TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 7:11 pm
link | 0 comments

Monday, May 08, 2006

love actually is a movie.

I desire greatly to marry Liam Neeson/Keira Knightley/Lúcia Moniz (the hot hispanic woman) in no specific order. Well maybe I'd prefer Keira Knightley and Lúcia Moniz over Liam Neeson, but only barely - and if they come as a pair.

My startling gay tendencies (and obviously very shocking to the millions of now-distraught females contemplating suicide) come as a result of watching Love Actually whilst I should have been studying Chemistry - which I suck at.

Yet another realisation was made as I watched this distinctly-British film was that my English, while deceptively bad now (I'm never satisfied with my blog standard nor my poor grasp of grammar - something that is never ceased to be rubbed in my face), it has improved by leaps and bounds since the start of this blog where i talked like this with no caps. and i had the worsterest english and rambled very long like so and so forth very longly...

Yet another step towards making to the Batmobile better!

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 7:55 pm
link | 0 comments

Sunday, May 07, 2006

dear mr. examiner man

It has been prophesied! The gods have willed it so! Nothing could ever hope to save Butlerman from the dreaded clutches of Hell itself as the prospect of losing his entire holidays to the infamous ACS(I) concentration camp is becoming more and more of a reality.

Well the whole experience of the exams has been shitty, with the only high I've experienced in the last 2 weeks was feeling smug with myself while giving false looks of sympathy and nodding while others complained about their doomed Physics paper. (I dropped Physics in the last quarter of 2005 when I realised the only law of physics I knew concerned a cannonball and it dropping faster than a tennisball... Or something like that. That soft whirring noise you would probably be hearing would be Galileo and Newton turning - no, spinning, in their respective graves).

I tread once more along the thin line that separates bravery from foolishness, the line that dissects living life to the fullest and living life like a fool (full and fool sound alike! Butlerman make pun! Butlerman is happy. Butlerman reward himself with pat on the back). The line that my mother seeks to redefine and she purposely stomps up the staircase, accusatory finger and steely gaze/evil Wand of Doom at the ready to punish me for being awake when my Biology Practical is but 12 hours away.

But a superhero stands firm in his belief! He never falters to any show of might or oppression! He is strong! He is superhuman! He is... Butlerman!

She is but several steps from my door now, deliberately slowing down every footfall with maximum volume to let me know of her arrival. Every sweat drop is a chore... My breathing grows harsh, but in times of trouble, I take heart from lessons learnt from watching Ultraman as a child - "Always wait your breast starts beeping and goes all shiny and red before whooping enemy ass". (Who says Ultraman has no educational value?) Today will be the day I finally get to do what I want!

My dear mother however, seems to be slightly more irate than usual. This superhuman theory will be tested out, dear devout followers - but at a later, safer date. Dreams of frog dissection and Biology Practical theory await, as well as a firm spanking by my mother (dreams of Jessica Alba or Liv Tyler as her personal spanking assistant go unfufilled).

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 6:41 pm
link | 0 comments