Wednesday, I Love You

I love Wednesday. Because Kiz and I like to hang out on weeknights (so why not Wednesday?) Then there's all those crowded weekends at all the fun places, and I'm a crowd-hater. Maybe it's because Monday's long gone, and Friday's finger-flirting with me from a fraudulent distance. Or because, by Wednesday, I've really got into the groove of the working week. Maybe it's because of that pair of Delilah-licious, luscious legs that lap-dance beneath my office window, at 5 O'clock, every Wednesday.

Nice to meet you. Who are you?

This is earnest embarrassing and not very 'pc', but whenever I meet someone for the very first time, I usually want to know something scandalous about them. I mean prison-scandalous, sexual-scandalous, integrity-scandalous, profession-scandalous, snobbery-scandalous, bigotry-scandalous, etc, etc.



It is not to hold it, nurture it, warp it, hide it, and let it out at a deviously damaging time. It is just to feed fat my human curiosity, and the belief that there's no closet without skeleton. Of course, for the average person that I meet, the locker is disappointingly as clean as a whistle.

20 Years for Big Feet

In our early days as lawyers, Kiz and I were compelled to defend a man charged with robbery. We fancied that we were smarter than the State prosecutors, and that we would get him off on smarts alone.

Now, the accused person was a giant of a man, who topped something like 6 feet 7 inches. He stood tall and proud, despite our advice to slouch a bit. Boy, did he look menacing! In spite of that, we could tell that we were winning. We were connecting with the jury by the manner in which we were 'destroying' the prosecution witnesses one by one.

One witness, though, was irrepressible. She recounted how her family was made to lie face down, in order not to be able to recognise the robbers by face later on. But, that turned out to be a tragic mistake. The witness remembered that the lead robber had huge, huge, bare feet.

As if hypnotized, everybody (judge, lawyers, jurors, clerks, and the onlooking public) turned to look at our client's feet. They were enormous! And he had no shoes on! Thankfully, he got 20 years or so!

Random Questions

Could the AG quit criticising every court ruling?
Why wasn't Taiwan's murderous mudslide foreseen?
Can the alive Mehsud please stand up?
Could we all spare a thought for Aung San Suu Kyi?

Poisoned Chocolate

Imagine that A keeps a bar of poisoned choc in a fridge he uses together with B, C and D. One of them gleefully gobbles the toxic confectionary without leave, and drops dead. Forget the law. Is the bigger moral issue that A intentionally placed the death-dealing choc in the common fridge, or is it the fatal dishonesty of the chocolate-pinching corpse?

Panadian Cassport

Yes, it is the totally talented Office Female #2, again! A serial killer of the lovely language, English. Reflecting on the lofty level of vampire violence she does to speaking the Victorian Vernacular, she should be guilty of grammar-genocide. She was just telling me about this frivolous fille who only married a mean man because he had a Panadian Cassport!

Friends Who Come Shopping

A naked and hungry fridge stood whingeing in my kitchen after a marauding cousin’s visit. I made my woozy protests here. Office Female #1 and I were Texas-bragging today about the newfangled gizmos we each had at home. After tidily trapping me to name all the thriftless, twentieth-century toys that I did not truly own, she laughed and teased that I’d obviously not heard about the quickly-coming concept of going shopping in a friend’s house.

Talk Airtime

Office Female Number Two
Gets more confused than me and you

She buys airtime for her cell phone
While reviewing a corporate loan

She lifts the handset to the land line
With dialogue, she tries to combine

We thought she was going to make a call
But what came next was a shock to all

One by one, the buttons are hit
She 'loads' the land phone with call credit!

Life – Breast-Savers

Breasts save lives. It’s official, oddly enough. It wafts from the wonderful WHO. Okay, when I walked the wickedly-promising article, it was tediously talking up the breastfeeding of babies; it may save their lives in medical emergencies. But I failed to glean those paediatrics from glancing at the caption (or did I pretend?). I was foraging for proof positive that the liberal, gleeful, dealing in breastices, by adults, would soundly secure safety or satisfaction in other urgencies. But, I’m just senseless silly. But am I the only one? Did you realise that the title of this post should properly be: Breasts – Lifesavers?

Knowing Mensah

Friend: Wow, 10 years! Thought you'd never come back to your wife!
The Man: I said I'd come back, didn't I?

Friend: Yes, you did. Are you really back to stay?
The Man: That I am, after all, I've seen it all!

Friend: So, what have you seen?
The Man: Bush the Second and Obama; the Statue of Liberty!

Friend: Impressive. But, do you know Mensah?
The Man: Listen, I've even had tea with Gordon Brown; met the Dalai Lama!

Friend: But, do you know Mensah?
The Man: What don't you get? I've met Nobel Prize winners and Hollywood Stars!

Friend: And, yet, you don't even know Mensah!
The Man: Who the hell is Mensah?

Friend: Your wife's lover for the past 10 years! You haven't seen it all, have you?

The Greatest Pain of All

Setting: In a commuter bus...

Woman #1: We suffer the worst pain...

Woman #2: The men have all the fun with us...

Woman #1: Then, they get up and go...

Woman #2: And there's the birth thing...

(A man turns around, irritated by their chatter)

Man: Don't be silly. Have you ever sat on your balls?

My Personal Postscript: Have you ever had blue balls :(

Restroom Revulsions

Museum moments in a public restroom. A prehistoric idiot is ‘fossiled’ in a cave cubicle, doing necessity number 2, and rudely receiving a phone call at the same sordid time! A stone-age dolt shuffles in. He accomplishes necessity number 1 in short seconds, and swings straight for the exit. As he rounds the doorway, he wipes what would be wetness on his charcoal trousers!

I – My Favourite Word

I’ve been browsing one of Oxford’s dictionaries. It makes a big front of “over 183,500 British and American words, phrases and meanings”, plus other cultural words. I’ve been mulling: what is my darling, dashing word? Besides the endearing meaning (e.g. Love, Baby, Babe, Money, Girl), I have loved words which choose the letters “L”, “R” and “S” (e.g. Relish, Lily, Silver, Riddle, Silk). But, when I really think of it, and my endless need to self-express, my dearest syllable is “I”.

The One Who Makes You Happy

There is no single sensation called ‘Love’. This is the cupid-conquering carrot that fellow-blogger KFC defiantly dangled before me this morning. My fair feeling is he’s ringing right in many muddled ways, for love lavishes dissimilar favours on its smitten saints. But his maxim’s miles away from engraved-in-stone. I awoke with ‘weally wunnerful’ happiness today! And when I think of who I was thinking of, I know that the one you truly love is the one who makes you happy.

My Husband is Here 5

All At Once

She takes to gathering evidence
Of marital offence
The remnants of protected sex
Condoms enough to vex

She goes to confront him at work
To make him a public jerk
But as she scolds him openly
Two people zoom in slowly

The secretary her husband shags
His best friend "who always brags"
The same 'friend' with whom she cheats
And this the tale completes!

My Husband is Here 4

Closet Doubts

Three days and nights sail slowly by
They do not even try
The smoke and clouds swirl all about
There're closets full of doubt

He thinks she'll break and confess all
But she continues to stall
Will he explain the sudden limp -
Why he walks like a chimp?

My Husband is Here 3

The Return

He creeps back up into the bed
Nothing at all is said
He might as well be with a wall
She does not move at all

She feels him move behind her back
She's eager to attack
But she does not feel faultless tonight
She has just lost the right

My Husband is Here 2

Dread

He picks his crocked waist off the floor
And crawls towards the door
One thousand questions maul his mind
What excuse can he find?

Back in the room upstairs she wakes
But, still asleep, she fakes
She needs some time to understand
Th'embarrassment at hand.

My Husband is Here 1

The Jump

A man sleeps with his own dear wife
It is the peaceful life
Then, in a horrible nightmare
She screams, "my husband's here"

He shoots up in a mouse panic
And darts, his clothes, to pick
And then he vaults through the window
He hits the ground below

Kiddo Convo

I have kept the candid company of Tender Age, Youth and Twilight Years. I have heard each category’s care-less chatter. It’s dropped my jaw since juvenile to jack into all this jol talk that does not seem to mature. We always talk a jugful about other people’s business. Even when we juggle the more solemn subjects, what we say and how we say it does not ‘sophisticate’ with age.