Pointless

Actually sometimes it's rather nice to watch something absolutely pointless for once. After the intricate Machiavellian schemes and diabolical plots of the papacy to hide the ultimate secret, it's just fun to watch a family of furry forest animals zip around the outskirts of suburbia in search of potato chips driving everyone else Over The Hedge.

Usually the surprisingly philosophical Big Bicep Barry prefers high-brow intellectual dramas but he allowed himself to be entertained by the common fare for once :) And it was certainly a rollicking good time watching Big Business Bitch ( hmm.. a new name for Bountiful Betty? ) and the Verminator chase down the little adorable creatures with weedwhackers and assorted torture instruments.

Not sure Barry thoroughly approved of the animals' frenetic obsession with potato chips and soft drinks though, which was certainly a far cry from his own ascetic diet. For me, I found it far more entertaining to watch Barry nibble squirrel-like on his staple diet of leaves and nuts.

Barry : What are you looking at?
Paul : Nothing.
Barry : You've been staring at my plate.
Paul : So?
Barry : You hungry? Want some?
Paul : For leaves? And dressing? Uhh... No.
Barry : Pathetic, huh.
Paul : If I waved some FKC in front of you, would you cry?
Barry : When I sleep, I dream of dancing fried chicken.

Watched Barry nibble a bit closer this time though. This past weekend I found myself drooling over the occasional gym-built hunk as I cruised the malls in Klang Valley ( is it really true that the Curve is full of gay men?! Since freaking when and why wasn't I told! ) and found myself with a sudden inexplicable urge to starve myself, live off calorieless berries and mineral water and hit the various gyms on a daily basis. Surely all the smooth-faced, slender hunks haunting the gyms must abase themselves before the awe-inspiring God of Diets to achieve the near zero-fat quotient that would allow their obliques and six-pack abs to appear in sharp relief.


Yum. My Lunch and dinner!
Seriously, how in the world do they find the strength to deny themselves of chocolate and fried chicken? Sure, I know the results are amazing - and drool-inducing in tank tops and shorts - but don't they find bland tasting protein drinks and lifting 100 pound weights while grunting unintelligible mutterings utterly boring? Somehow Barry's earnest reply that it makes him feel good ( imaginary hallucinations brought on by testosterone overload? ) sounds false somehow :)