I have to apologize to all those readers who find my blogs infrequent and funny if you look at it in a certain light and if you squint just enough. I have been occupied reading certain unnamed blogs of which there is one I cannot name. Also, I was recently bombarded by one email from someone, who will go unnamed for now, to have a tagboard installed on my blog. Thought I knew what a tagboard was I didn’t know it by that name and in reality didn’t even know it by any name. As you can see I managed to overcome my ignorance and have the shout-box (a word coined by another nameless bloger) installed. Please feel free to use it, or not free to use it.
The First Word
Since my entry into the world by the normal means used for entering the world, I have spent countless days wondering why something was given a certain name. One of these names I pondered over was the word spoon. I choose to go into spoon in this blog because if I were to go into the word fork I might offend some. Believe it or not, fork is an offensive word to some, especially if mispronounced correctly. How exactly these good folks ask for a fork at dinner time remains a mystery to me. I suppose they would be too afraid to ask so they would either do without or take one if they see it. To do without a fork is not acceptable to me but I was also brought up to ask politely for a fork, or even a lowly sopoon if I wanted one. I don’t want to stray too far form the subject and get back to spoon and the possible origins of the word. The word spoon was more than likely an amalgamation of the words spud (potato) and noon (lunchtime) – you eat spuds at noon with a……..Spoon.
The Second Word
The kiwifruit was originally known as the Chinese gooseberry but for some strange reason that name didn’t have mass commercial appeal. Some also thought that the name may have been offensive to the Chinese so it was renamed kiwifruit. Apparently the Kiwis are not easily offended. This fruit is rich in many vitamins, minerals and fur on its skin. It is said to be quite tasty to those inclined to find it tasty. Apart from being a fruit, the kiwifruit has many other uses which has eluded me. I suppose it can be easily decorated to look like a Martian’s head or to scare of attackers who are terrified by furry fruits. I am one of those people who cannot eat something which looks unattractive and for that reason don’t eat kiwis. Outside, the kiwifruit looks like a sapodilla, but on the inside it looks like a kiwifruit.
I am glad that you finally listened to your fans and decided to host an advice column. I couldn’t get an answer to a certain troubling issue and all my friends suggested I should ask aka, so here goes.
I decided to spring a few extra dollars on my wife and bought her a DVD player. I have to admit this was the best idea I have had in seven years and now she continually thanks me for it by using it all day and night. On receiving my generous gift she promptly went out and bought Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Vol 2, and urged me to look at it with her. She is particularly fond of the final scene in Vol. 2 where Bill meets his demise. I am a bit worried though since she has not been doing much of anything else since the DVD player arrived. I just don’t get it.
Maybe you don’t get it now but I am sure you will get it later. Women communicate in a very different way to men and recently they have been communicating through DVD movies such as Kill Bill, Buried Alive and Six Feet Under. I don’t think you have anything new to worry about since your faith was sealed long before the advent of the DVD.
RIP Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13
26th April 2003 – 11th February 2006
My car battery died today without warning. It was a sad moment for all in front the poultry depot when its final surge of cranking amps turned into a trickle as the Civic’s starting motor failed to volunteer even a churn. Good Samaritans, in shock and disbelief, rushed from all around with jumper cables, spanners and suspect advice in hand, trying to revive the dieing lead-acid power house. But, at last, it was not to be as the voltmeter confirmed what we all had dreaded. The Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13 was no more.
Though I am deeply saddened by the sudden passing of my faithful battery, I am grateful he lived a long, fruitful, and energized life, never failing to crank even once until his sudden demise. He was nearly three battery years old, which is almost one hundred in human years. His cells were practically free of impurities since I fed him only the best in distilled water from the finest distillers in the country. His poles were always clean and coated with petroleum jelly as specified by his maker. Though he did have a negative pole, he was always positive in his duties.
His replacement cost a whooping $590.00 as the price of lead continues to rise to almost astronomical levels on the international market since 2001. There was no rebate to be had since he died well outside his warranty period of eighteen months. This made my sadness even sadder. But, say what, and as a notorious roadside mechanic once said, a battery’s got to do want a battery’s got to do, – life cranks on.
RIP Turbo 2001 serial number ZBC 421 C13 and may your plates not pollute the soil and cause lead poisoning.
The wind was cold by tropical standards and I shivered like all tropical people do, which is quite unsightly to the untrained eye. I started to look for the sun at around 5:45am, but when the first useful light appeared I knew the sunrise would be as bland as a politician on a door-to-door campaign. This prompted me to pack up the meager camera equipment and go back inside to enjoy what was now a room-temperature breakfast. Photographing a spectacular sunrises, or making an ordinary sunrise look spectacular, is all a matter of being at the right palace at the right time, understanding a bit about controlling the light exposure with the camera, and having a sturdy tripod along with two cans of anti-bandit spray in the cocked position. The point-and-shoot in Auto mode doesn’t quite cut it in the world of presentable photographs of sceneries. The day in the life of someone who is photo-minded and who needs to leave a visual legacy behind because he is not prone to making people happy with his visibility, is stressfully exciting at times. I have taken more photographs with my mind than with my camera, which proves to me that photography is mainly a mind thing, a learning to see something in nothing type of activity. Drawing is the art of seeing and so to is photography and Carnival.
Unfortunately, I have not been good at making people look real and exciting in my photographs and this made many people angry causing them to throw painted stones and bundles of dry grass at me. I think I don’t try hard enough, or have subjects who are accommodating when I try hard to accommodate. I am one who also believe all people can look good in photographs since I am into silhouettes and shadows. This, and my fear of painted stones, have me doubting if I will ever become a well-rounded photographer unless I continuously eat Hershey Bars for a few months. Since I don’t care too much for sweets there is not even a fat chance of that happening.