To the BATMOBILE

Sunday, November 19, 2006

shaken or stirred?

It's been at least a few days and I'm still feeling the high of watching Casino Royale. I'm starting to begin wondering if being a superhero really matches up to the high-flying Eva-Green-seducing benefits a 00-agent receives. The fact that I'm replaying the scene of Daniel Craig, clad merely in his trunks, emerging gracefully from the ocean after a swim in the timeless shampoo advertisements over and over again in my head has the makings of idol-worship. (If that doesn't push any guy over the edge to homosexuality I don't know what would - much to the dismay of homosexuals/fans of the Village People, I'm still straight)

I felt compelled to blog as of 2.20am despite the fact my eyebags are tickling the chest because well, my O levels are finally over and theres no more excuses I can give where my frustratingly irregular blogging is concerned. That and the fact I swear Mr. Craig's cheese-grater abdominal muscles visited me in my dreams last night and spoketh unto me, "Go forth Butlerman, and speaketh of my magnificence to the world", in the way that only his abs can say. Honest.

With the conclusion of the torturous O levels, I once more find myself with too much time and too little money - the surefire route towards insanity. While it is tempting for me to purchase a large pot of industrial glue, a few tins of corn beef and/or illicit magazines, and live out the remainder of my holidays in a fumigated stupor, indulging in the mindless debauchery of eating processed food and possibly flipping through a Victoria Secrets catalogue (the name of Butlerman is tarnished enough) to pass the time, I fear my financial difficulties have led me to consider salting french fries and sifting them into quaint little McDonald packets (it looks fun - and I'm being serious) to earn a little pocket money.

That I can worry about later on today, possibly after having yet another conversion with Mr. Craig's anatomy, as I'm dying for sleep. My brain hurts.

I'm man, Butlerman.
TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 1:50 am
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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

birthday treats

So I found myself, sixteen years from the moment I emerged from my mothers womb flushed red and possibly screaming Gleneagles down (well my memory doesn't extend that far back though let's face it, nothing much has changed), enjoying the sensation of my birthday Taro Turnover burning my tongue off alone on the upper level of Holland Village's Burger King while pouring over my Biology Ten Year Series.

Someway through illlustrating the diagram for the carbon cycle and mumbling the birthday song to myself (cutting quite an emotional figure - it was alot more joyous than that I assure you; as joyous as studying Biology can get) a little irritant decided to flaunt his Vatican Boy Choir vocals and shatter a few window panes - possibly because he didn't particularly enjoy the Lemon Barley-Coca Cola-Sprite mix they serve up at the joint but it was inexcusable. Somehow one thing led to another and in an inexplicable turn of events, the remaining half of my Taro Turnover (which I was beginning to enjoy, having developed a certain resistance to its temperature after the nerves in my mouth had been scalded off) was found decorating page (3.3) 13 of my Biology TYS.

All was not lost however... I only had to wait till nobody was looking till I finished it.

(An anticlimatical ending I'm afraid, if there is even such a word. With death via Biology and Geography papers imminent tomorrow, even Superheroes need the odd bit of studying here and there... And a big thank you to all the well-wishers)

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 7:41 pm
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