To the BATMOBILE

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

for reasons unknown...

So it seems C-rated horror movie-dreams don't constitute the top20 blogposts of all time. Just as well, because recently my imagination has been running wild in the deadening environment of the boarding school, relying solely on the (thankfully) ill-timed siren of the moldy Vietnamese scholar's alarm at 5.45am in the morning (of which he obliviously sleeps through, thanks to the 200,000 decibel volume he plays his Eminem trash at) to keep me alive. Just barely.

In the peace and tranquility that accompanies the departure of the dreaded Hall Mistress (a creature of mythical proportions, who lost all opportunity of a honest job once Lord of the Rings finished filming and the great demand for Middle Earth trolls dissipated), all madness subsides and the man behind the Butlerman mask can afford a momentary glance into the crystal ball of the future, the present and the recently past.

Accompanying the stench of the Vietnamese' school socks, which at last count, contained a billion undiscovered colony of nanoscopic bacteria species, having last met good friend Ms Laundry a good decade ago, would be the unfortunate news that my right shoulder still feels as secure in it's socket as a beautiful teenaged girl parading around the slums of San Paulo at night advertising her virginity (sincere apologies are offered in lieu of the less-than-chaste imagery).

Equally as depressing would be the mournful release (or, conversely, the wild celebrations of single women around the globe that would continue well into the weekend in drunken abandon; or so I hope) that Butlerman is once again the eligible bachelor that he used to claim he was - fat load of good that piece of shameless self-advertising turned out to be! Most unfortunate is the fact one only feels that the opposite party does not quite believe the (honestly) noble tendencies that I have come up with. In hindsight, who would.

However, as life should be, there comes a glimmer of hope, and always the opportunity of a pleasant surprise (in no reference to the silent and deadly cloud of toxic fumes that my dearly beloved Vietnamese roommate just secreted from his posterior - vomit-inducing mouth-frothing stuff of World War 1 renown. Local flora and fauna would never be recover). It's just the mere matter of finding this brief sparkle of light in the all-encompassing shroud of doom and gloom.

Butlerman, the Thirsterer (my vocabulary rivals Lewis Carrol's Jabberwocky) of Vengeance, the Sheath of Justice! The champion of darkness who now seeks to rest his world-weary (or teenage-angst-weary head) at a measly 11.34pm. Butlerman, once the dreaded Foe of the Evil-doers of the Universe, and now mere victim and human experiment subjected to the tortures of certain bodily odours. I must stress my desire for racial harmony and cross-cultural understanding, if only to ensure I remain out of jail.

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 10:52 pm
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