Pirates, Purgatory and Pricks

While Charming Calvin was preoccupied with setting his new place to rights, I still had my old home to settle - since numerous bills to pay meant that I had to at least make an appearance back home. Seriously, my weekend can be successfully summed up in those three words.

Pirates

Ahoy, matey was the call I made to Shameless Shalom the instant I returned - since the likes of Handsome Hui had given himself up to shamelessly selling himself for a bit of gold.

Once I fed her with enough fresh mackerel and stale booze, Shalom started spilling the evil tidings that has befallen the lovable motley crew I left behind. Seems that during my absence, the bubbling disquiet in my old workplace had transformed itself into a literal biblical exodus. While I was there, we managed to temporarily forget our troubles during the tyrannical rule with barrels of ale ( though I made numerous vociferous protests with the management ) but once I took my leave of the torturous voyage, the remaining sailors have been left marooned. Rather than stage a treacherous mutiny, more than a handful of decided to take their chances jumping ship into uncharted waters rather than continue the course. Chained to the sinking ship by an indelible contract, Shalom has resigned herself to certain doom.

Poor gal. I suggest another mug of ale.

Purgatory

All who know me are duly informed of my patent dislike of mindless horror films. Well, all except poor Big Bicep Barry who duly presented me last night - to my utmost horror ( sorry I couldn't resist! ) - with movie tickets to Re-cycle.


I'll trade you a bunch of tickets to Re-Cycle!
Dammit, I'd rather go to hell!
Seriously, such a mind-boggling enigma-wrapped-riddle of a film should be consigned to the deepest levels of purgatory. Serious themes of abortion, abandonment and apathy were weaved into the movie along with the cookie-cutter drooling zombies and spookily long haired Asian women. Other than the hot stud next to me, there was a serious lack of male eye candy. The one saving grace was the fact that the heroine was surprisingly not a brainless bimbo and quite intrepid to boot. Although Barry blanched through a few admittedly gruesome moments with sternly compressed lips, he remained manfully attached to his seat ( rather than run screaming from the cinema due to the sheer stupidity of the movie ) and even managed to puzzle out the incomprehensible twist at the end of the movie.

Good Barry. Only he could discover what exactly the Pang Brothers intended to do with the hapless heroine.

Pricks

You'll be forgiven if you imagined hard erections here but it's the bastard prick that I have in mind here. When I returned to the Big Bad City - hereby known as the Big Mud, I found myself faced with the endless headache of disappearing parking lots but lo and behold, I managed to find one in the nick of time. It wasn't the blessing in disguise I imagined. All Big Mud citizens would be able to explain the amazing Murphy's Law that happens in parking spaces. When I returned after dinner, I found a stationary car parked right behind mine. Bloody hell. The horrifying expletives that shot out of my mouth would have done my foul-mouthed ISO proud and like any victim of road rage, I was just this close to reaching for my spanner to exact some uncivilized retribution.

Fortunately he appeared after three minutes. I counted. You can only double park if there's a freaking medical emergency, dammit. Otherwise, park farther away and fucking walk. Short of your wife giving birth in the car or your femoral artery spurting fresh blood all over the steering wheel, nothing is that terribly urgent.

Bad pricks beware. The day I get a hulking 4WD with large imposing bumper attached, your puny cars are gonna be history.