Cellular

Talking about bad calls, well that's what I had last night. Literally running ragged all day long till 8 this morning and it's been damned tiring. Lots of careless boys on rusty bikes and a handful of amnesiac octogenarians who conveniently forget their medications ( What? I still have hypertension? I am shocked.. oh whoa, what's that pain in my chest! ). Okay, I shouldn't be making fun of them ( poor taste, I know! ) but these are the times when I wish curfews and severe punishments were placed on some patients :)


Dude, didja see my husband Paul? Seem to have misplaced him.

Managed to resurface sometime late in the evening just in time to catch my future husband, Chris Evans, running around in a tight red tee wrapped deliciously around that muscular torso. Damned lucky shirt. He does manage to get the T-shirt off for a few moments but certainly not long enough in my opinion.

Somehow or rather the poor guy gets an inconvenient phone call on his cellular from a damsel in distress unsurprisingly locked up in an attic. Since he's a pretty sexy, delicious ( in a wanna-slather-him-in-honey-and-lick-every-inch-kinda-way ) but utterly self-involved fella, he dismisses the call initially but once his nascent conscience starts kicking in, he finds himself getting in way over his head over kidnapping plans and a buncha thickheaded thugs lead by another dead-sexy... Jason Statham.

Still it was interesting watching my darling hubby play around with his fabulous Nokia - and all the added functions. For a technohimbo who has only recently mastered the art of SMS, it is certainly incredible to see exactly what the cellular can do. At work, I see my colleagues tweaking their PDAs and their cellphones, sending e-mail, MMS and God-knows-what. Downloading videos, taking pictures and stuff is certainly mind-boggling enough for me :) Hell, what next are they going to think of!