Announcement

Currently co-posting on a blog called "Qadam" (translation: foot).

Check it out if you have the time or interest.

http://qadam.blogspot.com

Spooky

Today I decided to go all high tech. I went to this website called statcounter.com and I opted to add a little counter onto my blog (all part of my one year anniversary present to my dear, dear blog). Now, this counter is pretty nifty.. sure, it gives me a little number telling me how many people have accessed my blog.. but I was surprised to learn that it does other things as well.

You see, statcounter.com offer you a free "package" that you can use on as many websites as you want. Obviously there are certain limitations which do not make it viable for large commercial websites, but for my individual purposes it does just fine. The "package" contains not only the code for the counter, but a staggering array of tools. Now, you might think me a tad slow for not copping on to this facility beforehand.. but I've resigned my seat on the board of the cutting edge of technology a long time ago. Long gone are the days where I was among the more knowledgeable in terms of computers and stuff, but I guess that's part of growing older and doing other things. I'm still quite handy, though.

Anyway, enough lamenting my loss of competence and let's get back to "the package". It pretty much includes tools that allow me to track every visitor to my website, down to their country of origin. It shows me when you've entered, where you've gone, what you've been looking at and when you've left. Now if I can do this, imagine what other, much larger websites can do. I no longer see myself as a lone surfer on the information superhighway (remember that term? those were the days I used to be cutting edge.. ahh, what days). I'm actually being watched, people know what I'm up to and they know where I am. I almost feel violated.

So, dear reader.. now that I've got these tools at my disposal (and many frequent flyer miles to be redeemed), next time you leave a comment I might disagree with I might just travel across the world to come see you. Don't worry, I'll be civil. I'll even buy you dinner.. that's been laced with rat poison.

One Year Milestone

Happy birthday dear blog. You have been a wonderful vessel for my ramblings over the past year. I thank you for your patience in containing all my thoughts and words, and I promise that you shall be lonely no more.

What am I talking about? You complain that all the other blogs are getting all the attention. You say to me, "Mo, let's do politics." and yet I say "Nay, young one.. we shall stick to our purpose." I know politics draws the interested masses in, it ignites debate through comments and makes a blog popular. But let me ask you this, dear blog.. how would you feel if you were weighed down by the grim world of politics and current events? What if your content became serious, your youthful and inane outlook on life tainted by the increasingly depressing occurences of this world? You wouldn't be the carefree, silly blog that you are now. You would lose what truely makes you unique in this electronic world of independent publishing.

And so, dear blog, I promise to be even funnier, even wittier, include more pictures and diagrams and be as random as a human being could ever be. I promise to make you the best-est non-serious blog in the whole wide world. I promise to draw in more readers, make them leave more comments to show you how special you really are. This I promise you dear blog and, so help me God, I shall not rest until you are lonely no more.

El estilo de vida del estudiante

Being a college student for six years can be tough. Its sobering everytime I come back home and find out what everyone else is up to.. who's gotten married, who's gotten a job where, who's complaining about their jobs and routines (pretty much everyone). And I'm still where I am.. still studying, still hitting the books. It makes me wish that I was making money too so I wouldn't have to rely on my parents so much.

Enough negativity, let's move on to why its GREAT that I'm still a student!

Well, for starters there's the whole academic year business.. you get vacations, vacations and more vacations.. you don't have to ask your boss for one, you don't have to work X amount of months to earn a week or two off.. you just get them. Then there's the whole "your own life in your own hands" kind of thing. If I don't feel like waking up and going to class, what do I do? I stay in bed and I wake up at 1pm. If I feel like going out and getting wasted midweek, would I get in trouble for not waking up early the next morning? Hells no! You have one responsibility only and it is to pass your exams with decent grades (definition of the word "decent" may differ from person to person). Unfortunately with the rotations at the different hospitals this year there's a more personal element of teaching in that you're placed in small groups and the doctors notice when you're missing. That pretty much negates all the skills I've learned over the years in how to blend into the background and not get noticed by any lecturers. I'm very proud of the fact that none of my preclinical teachers recognize my being a student at the college, let alone know my name!

But that's besides the point. Being a student means I can have a highly impractical, idealistic view of the world and not have to worry about it being jeapordized by the demands of an employer, a mortgage or any other facet of life. Deplorable? Unfortunate? I will have to eventually stop being a student and face the harsh realities, no? Someday I'll realize that there's more to life than a bank account that magically fills up every month, that money is earned on the back of hard work, right? Surely that thought would be sufficient to wake me up from my dreamland existence?

Well, I'd rather not think about it. As a student, I have that choice.

Budapeshhht

Great city, that. Its quite interesting, I don't know how many people know this (I certainly didn't until a few weeks before getting there) but the city is split into two parts.. the Buda and the Pest, with the Danube river in between. The Pest side is made up of mostly flat plains, while the Buda is all about the rolling hills. Cheap city to live in, food and drink were quite affordable.. and you could practically dine out in extremely nice surroundings every single night of your trip.
You see many bizzare things, however. Between Prague and Budapest, I've seen many strange objects, practices and local customs:

1. Fried Cheese (aka Fat-in-a-bun). Pretty much a deep-fried, breaded slab of cheese that can be served on a plate to be eaten with a knife and fork.. or in the much more lethal form of a sandwich in which it is covered in mayonnaise and placed in a bun. Don't try eating more than one of these things.

2. Milk in a bag. This I saw in Budapest. Pretty much milk in a small, clear plastic bag with a picture of a goofy looking blonde cow on it and the word TEJ written in bold print (see below). I had a hard time just holding the bag and posing for a picture, never mind considering consuming its contents.

3. HUGE chunks of bread. By huge I mean as big as a person's head. I'm sure that under the thick crust lies more soft, delicious bread than I would know what to do with before the fungus sets in.

4. Parking on the sidewalk. Yes, everyone does it. Even old ladies in old volvos. Even if you're walking on the aforementioned sidewalk.

5. Man selling porn at traffic lights. A man, decked out completely in porn magazines wandering around between cars that were stopped at a traffic light. In broad daylight.

The strange language and the natives' dearth of english speakers means that a lot of interesting (mostly humorous) situations cropped up throughout the trip. Definitely worth a visit, though.

Back in Bahrain at the moment for a two week "break" in which I'll be studying for exams before going back to Ireland for another two weeks of studying prior to my first exam. What a rendorseg situation. The year's been tough, but at least now its almost over.



Milk in a bag.

The Elevator

I live on the very top floor of my building. Its nothing special, not like those real penthouse apartments with swimming pools and stuff. And you certainly don't need a key or a code to access my floor via the elevator. I just happen to live on the very top floor and it means I have a more prominent view of the Irish ghettos right behind my fancy apartment building (which itself is situated in the fancy Financial Services Area). How come businesses and banks are right next to government housing? Stellar planning on behalf of whoever has that job.

Anyway, back to my point. Because I'm on the top floor it means that the elevator plays a very important role in my life. Whoever thought of putting human beings in a box and suspending them in the air using a pulley and counterbalance system.. you're fucking crazy. But it worked you loon! So Otis and Co. have made my life much easier by not having to tackle stairwells everytime I decide to leave my house and establish contact with the outside world.

If you look at my previous post titled "Shady Construction" you'll get a general feel for my building. Its nice, but its not the most well built and thought out. Apparently its not the most well maintained either, since the elevator has been (as of today) busted for two weeks. We used to get elevator functional distubances on a regular basis last year, but nothing that wouldn't get fixed within one or two days.

Over the last two weeks my fitness has improved tremendously. While previously I would arrive at the apartment door in a state of hyperventilation after climbing all those stairs, these days my breathing rate increases slightly but that's about it.

I wonder if I should send out a letter of complaint for the inconvenience, or a letter of thanks for the imposition of much needed exercise?

A Glimpse into the Future?

Over easter break I flew over to England to visit a friend. It wasn't much of an easter break to be honest, it included Good Friday and Easter monday as well as the weekend. None of that crazy two weeks stuff we used to get back in the day.

Anyway, checking in at the airport to fly back I was informed that due to some poor weather that morning the airline had diverted a flight to another airport and are therefore short on the planes they have flying to Ireland. This basically meant that I'll have to fly to Shannon first, land there and wait to refuel and unload some passengers, then fly back to Dublin. Inconvenience? You bet your damn ass it was. The whole journey took two and a half hours, rather than the normal one hour's time.

If you hadn't planned to fly for two and half hours (and are lacking in entertainment, because the book you brought along had just enough pages left in it to be finished in an hour.. exemplary planning if you ask me) then you could get pretty bored. My mind wandered and I started thinking about this whole ordeal. The whole thing reminded me of a flying bus.. and that's where the future got me excited.

No more traffic, no more waiting for red lights and no more damn pedestrians. With my amazing (but highly impractical) idea of PLUS (that's a combination plane+bus), I could now fly to wherever I wanted to go! Imagine the possibilities. I'd get to hospitals in no time, not having to wake up so much earlier just to make sure I catch whatever gravity-challenged mode of transport I intend to use. It would eliminate people's fear of flying too because it'd be so common! You wouldn't have to go to the airport two hours in advance and go through security checks and check your baggage in and all that nonsense. All you'd do is pay EUR1.50 to get to wherever you're going (cost based on average distance from my home to the hospital I'm currently attending.. maybe it'd be more expensive for you.. or cheaper.. who knows?) .. and you'd get there FAST!

And since I'm talking about the future, I thought I might technologically enhance this blog by including a diagram to explain my highly complex, yet breathtakingly simple, idea. Impressive, I know.. but then again I've always had an artistic touch.



Demonstration of diabolical idea.

St. Patrick's Day

I actually spent Paddy's day (as the Irish affectionately refer to it..) in Ireland this year as I'm usually on easter vacation around this time. Didn't get one this year, which sucks. It was a crazy day, copious amounts of C2H5OH were consumed and the whole thing degenerated into a farce by 8.30pm.

But enough about that, there was an interesting point that I noticed today that I thought I'd write about in my blog. If you're at all squeamish or are uncomfortable with mentions of human anatomy, then you can stop reading right about now. You have been warned. Hope you had fun, see you again next time.

Now, I was heading to the toilets and I noticed a MASSIVE queue in front of the ladies' washroom. Girls were just hanging out in front of the toilet not just waiting for a stall, but waiting to GET INTO the damn place. The gents on the other hand was a model of efficiency. You're in and within 2 minutes you're out again. You don't wait for a stall, you head to the urinals. This made me kind of question the wisdom of the location of the female urethral orifice. Why down there where its so inconvenient? It only points in one direction and removal of clothing is required for usage! Factoring in that womens' bladders are infinitely smaller than those of their male counterparts, it just adds to the whole hassle. Not only do you have to go through the process of lining up to use the toilet, you have to do it OFTEN! A design flaw, perhaps? Maybe its payback for having the ability to give birth to new life? There must be some kind of medical explanation for it (positioning of internal organs during pregenancy or something..) but I'm just not that avid a student to try and work it out. I guess I understand now the female fascination with peeing while standing up.. it does come in quite handy.

Man on Fire

If only I got paid as much as Denzel, then I might not be complaining..
Of course, this has nothing to do with any of that, what happened last night was probably THE most randomest thing I have ever experienced.

On the way back from this club, my friends and I stopped at McDonald's for a late night snack as we normally do.. the weather was nice, kind of cold but dry and cloudless.. we stood around outside for a bit while a friend of mine finished off his cigarette.. what happened next was very strange indeed..

As I walked into the place, I stared at the menu while trying to put together my caloric bomb of a meal.. a big mac, a mcchicken sandwich, some nuggets and fries? mmm.. maybe a eurosaver double cheese with fries, a bigmac and....

"Sir, you're on fire!"..

Excuse me? I turn around to look at the security guard of asian origin only to see him rushing over and grabbing me by the arm.. I resist at first as he tries to remove me from the premises.. I look at him and go "what the fuck man?".. so he hurriedly points to the back of my leather jacket and lo and behold, I AM on fucking fire..

There was a hole the size of a baseball burning through the back of my jacket.. there was smoke everywhere, I looked like a movie stunt gone horribly awry.. I rushed to the door and took my jacket off and started stamping on it to limit the damage.. next thing I know Mr. Security Man has a huge glass of water in his hand and he's pouring it all over my jacket AFTER I had already put the fire out.. what a dickhead..

Slightly stunned I walk back into the place, get my food and proceed on the long walk back home with my comrades. Halfway there it hits me.. why the HELL was my jacket on fire? Who would do such a thing? After a labored thought process we eventually decided that a cigarette couldn't possible have set a leather jacket on fire, and that someone must have used a lighter or some matches.. BUT WHY? How would you feel if you saw someone walk into a restaurant with his clothes on fire, smoke plumes everywhere, and he was completely oblivious to the fact? I'd be quite freaked out to be honest..

Whoever did this, I'm going to find you and burn your house down you asshole.

Crazy People

Ever wonder why sometimes there's a thick plate of glass between you and whoever it is that's providing a service for you? You know, like in a bank.. or at train stations. Security is the most obvious answer, and you would be correct in assuming so.. but most of these thick plates have holes in them so you can communicate with the person on the other side instead of attempting to lip-read..

This morning, on my way to the Kilbarrack Health Center for a part of my psychiatry rotation, I had to take the train. When I got to my destination, I asked the man behind the thick plate of glass (who happened to also be selling tickets, not just hanging out..) about the whereabouts of said center. He said a few things, pointed in my general direction and said "fuck".. I got pretty freaked out by the weirdo, smiled and walked away hurriedly.. further down the road I reached a "fork" and realised, to my relief, what the man was going on about.. shame, he seemed like a nice guy.. what could've been the start of a great friendship was nipped in the bud by an unnecessary lack of holes in a thick plate of glass.

Female Beauty

Finally got around to reading "The Da Vinci Code".. a bit late, but hey.. I was busy reading other books..
*if you're planning on reading it, then the rest of this post might be a slight spoiler*

Good book, interesting premise, annoying storyline.. the ideas in the book were new to me, to be honest.. I always percieved the "Holy Grail" to be a wooden cup of Jesus, like in Indy Jones.. you know, the one where it ends in the dumb Nazis going for the craziest chalice with the most bling and end up dying and shit..

Anyway, that's besides the point.. what I wanted to go on about today was more than just the concept of the "chalice" or the "grail" as stated in the book.. all that historical relic stuff was all interesting and fitted well in the framework of the story (which I found annoyingly stop/start, as though the author intended to make the job of the screenplay writer a lot easier when importing it onto the big screen).. what struck me most was the book's insight into the symbolism and ideas of "the sacred feminine"..

Makes you stop and think, don't it? Jesus had a wife and kids? The Da Vinci painting of "the last supper" showing his wife, Mary Magdalene, sitting next to him on the table along with all the other apostles? Now, I'm a muslim myself so I'm not taking this in any religious aspect, simply commenting on what I've read and seen as a human being. Might be simplistic, might be wrong or skewed.. but I don't want a shitload of comments delving into religious or moral issues.. this is a simple blog written by a simple man who's talking about a simple idea..

Men and women complementing each other.

The belief present in males that they can control the destiny of the human race unassisted is quite unfortunate. Males tend to be physically stronger, tend to be more aggressive in nature. Taking that as a whole and looking at the current political and cultural climate in the world, you can see a dangerous route of destruction and bloodshed ahead. Political ideologies at war, and who are the politicans in the highest echelons of power? Men. Religions at war, and who are the clerics, priests and rabbis with the most influence? Men.

It seems that without the counterbalance of the female, male ego and ambition for power can run unchecked and lead the whole race to self-destruction. If females dominated the world in the exact reverse situation, the world would be going to shit for reasons I can't even begin to fathom. The whole system is fucked if power and control lay in the hands of one sex.

Unfortunately, current cultural and religious beliefs tend to predominantely state that women are an inferior sex, and must be treated as such. Even in the so-called "civilized world", women are still struggling for their full rights. Granted, they might have their basic rights given back to them as opposed to places like Saudi Arabia where they are treated like glorified animals.. but that touches on my main point: Why is it that men are GIVING women those rights? Its less a case of giving than giving BACK. How come those rights were taken away to begin with; and why and when did this happen? When did the yang decide to dispose of the yin and run the show? Doesn't it know that without its other half it no longer represents a whole circle, instead it just looks like a stupid piece of turd?

My questions are simply a matter of observation, a matter of logic.

Alright, back to work for me. Maybe next time I'll write about the state of my freezer or something more docile. All this thinking makes my head hurt.

The Commute

On an Obstetrics and Gynaecology rotation at the moment (would rather not talk about it to be honest) in a town called Drogheda, north of Dublin. Drogheda is about an hour's train ride away and, as my luck would have it, the train station is a five minute walk away from my house. I commute on a daily basis, usually leaving the house at around 7am and coming back at 6pm. The rotation is two months long.



There is much that could be said about my distaste for the subject matter of the rotation and my arduous daily trek to the hospital, but the topic of this post is "the commute" and so it shall remain faithful to its heading. Commuting is an interesting concept, having to leave your home on a (week)daily basis in order to reach your location of work, the place where you make money to feed your family, cloth your children and spend on other worldly joys (such as cars, and "bling"). When I first started "commuting", I was amazed by the whole thing. It filled me with a secret sense of pleasure that I'm doing a very "grown up" thing, travelling many miles to reach "my workplace" the hospital. Of course, at the hospital I'm just another useless, corridor-obstacle medical student.. but that doesn't sway my sense of pride in my commute. I travelled far to become a useless corridor-obstacle, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let Mr. Bigshot Consultant ruin it for me.



Now, the first few weeks or so I managed to wake up and attend purely for being able to ride the train back and forth. I would pack a book and read it on the way, and then look forward to catching the train back and reading some more. I must admit, I'm a sucker for trains. For some reason, I love taking trains. I make it my sacred duty to commit to memory any underground rail map that may exist in any city that I may visit. Weird, I know, but hey.. we all have our quirks, so back off buddy.



So, being that I've rarely used the railway system in place in Ireland, I found this opportunity very exciting. And I was going to do this on a daily basis too, so its gonna kick ass! Right?



Wrong. Five weeks, three books and countless commuting hours later and I've become completely jaded. No longer do I walk to the station with a big, youthful smile plastered across my face on those cold and rainy mornings. Now I just stare blankly ahead and look like all the other commuters. Just wanting to be somewhere else, doing something different.



message from an intoxicated beauty: "Don't forget the soldiers of The Great War".

Appropriate, especially since I'm in a knowledge-thirsty WWII phase right now.

Golf

Golf is a great game.



I started playing golf about a year ago, and its been quite an interesting journey. Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2004 on the Xbox got me initially interested in the sport (and gave me some basic knowledge as to what it entails) and then frequent visits to the driving range almost drove me away from the thing all together. It was horrible. I couldn't hit the ball at first, and then when I managed to do so it just rolled rather than soaring like a beautiful golf shot should. I refused lessons mainly because the golf club in Bahrain (yes.. THE golf club.. there's only one.) charges a king's ransom for a handful of 30 minute lessons. In retrospect, one or two lessons would've really sped the development of things.. but hey, no use crying over spilt beer eh?



Slowly but surely I pieced together what now resembles a golf swing, and with visits to courses both in Dublin and Bahrain, I really started loving the sport. I played a round of 18 holes the other day, shot 5 pars and ended up finishing under par (I'm a 36 handicap.. which is pretty bad). This was basically a culmination of practice and pyschology, where I learned to let go of the ingrained idea of hitting the ball as hard as possible and beating my opponent.. and learned to embrace the idea of just going out there and having fun. After all, golf is about bettering your own performance, and not out-driving your fellow golfers for distance.



Alright, enough sounding like some golf motivational manual..



*queue solo piano in the background*

The point I wanted to get across was that maybe for once in my life I've recognized that not everything is a competition.. that fun could be had without necessarily gloating about kicking some other dude's ass in a certain sport or videogame.



*piano music abruptly ends*

Hahaha! That was funny, I almost believed that one myself..!

Videogames and sports are all about kicking ass. There's no substitute to winning. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Shady Construction

My apartment block is 8 years old. I've been living in my apartment for 3 years now.. nice little place, reasonable rent..



Given that the whole complex has only been up for 8 years, you'd expect the place to be well constructed (1996 might've been a while ago, but they still had the technology back then!).. but the emphasis was visibly placed on aesthetics instead of a properly planned building. Sure, it looks nice.. but how well built is it?



Don't get me wrong, we're not talking about negligence of Egyptian proportions here (buildings in Egypt have a frightning tendency to completely collapse a year or two after construction).. simply Irish short-sightedness we've all come to expect at this point. Example? The pipes are so poorly insulated that all the heat dissipates through the walls and upwards. Being that I live at the very top floor, this provides me with a cheap and non-ending source of heat. I haven't turned on the heating in THREE years.. I don't care how cold it is out there, as long as I'm in my house its completely perfect. This isn't much of a worry, since I'm getting free shit (and I love getting free shit).. but a recent problem has arisen that prompted me to write this post. Apparently the water pressure is too high in the building as well. What does this mean, I hear you (or not) ask? Well, this basically means that the high water pressure attacks my washing machine (for more about my washing machine, refer to my earlier post about the damn thing).



This results in leakage, intermittent function and general anxiety and frustration on my behalf.

Kazaa (or lack thereof..)

I'm assuming everyone knows what Kazaa is? For the uninitiated, its a p2p (person to person) filesharing program. This gives you a plethora of music tracks, movies, computer software and images at your virtual fingertips. I haven't bought a CD in a very, very long time.. relying on kazaa as my main supplier of music (yes, i've got over 1000 illegal mp3 files! track down my IP address and come sue me, please!). Goddamn corporations, don't you have enough money as it is?!



Well, you've won. You officially got me to stop using kazaa.. for new music. Newly released tracks that appear on kazaa for sharing are lost amid a flood of dud mp3 files with the same name. Search for a new track and you get thousands of sources.. except each source provides you with a file made up of 3 to 4 minutes of silence. Its impossible to find a genuine source.. impossible.



But wait.. this only affects new music tracks! Old tracks, images, computer software and videos are still very available. Still though, it pretty much means that i'd have to leave the comfort of my own home to go buy any new music. I HATE leaving the comfort of my own home. I also hate spending money on stuff I used to steal so easily.



Its time to sharpen those shoplifting skills. Old methods for cramming those tapes in my pockets will have to be modified for bigger, more awkward CD cases.



Disclaimer: this blog does not, in any way, condone theft. not CDs, anyway. THINK BIG, THINK BANKS.

Duleek

..is the name of an Irish village. As part of my general practice rotation (and as seems to be the case this year), I'm being shipped out to a remote part of the country to "pursue my education". Why do I have to pursue the damn thing? Don't my parents pay enough in tuition fees for the damn practice to come to MY house.. doctor, staff and patients?!



The Irish public transport system has demonstrated to me this morning how weak it really is. The buses run late, the train timings are erratic and totally haphazard, and connections can never be made. I was supposed to get my ass up to a town called Drogheda (droh-eda) and then get a connecting bus to Duleek. The mental stress involved in getting to where I wanted to go was ridiculous. Suffice to say, I made it to the practice quite late and got in what remained of the morning session.



And then there was the break. I'm usually a huge fan of lengthy, two hour breaks.. but not when I'm stuck in a place like Duleek. I decided to take a walk and explore the village, and was back in the Doctor's office roughly 10 minutes later. It took me 10 minutes to walk through the main street, the place where everything happens. It had one shop, two takeaways and a church.



Ended up playing solitaire on the doctor's computer until he showed up for the afternoon session and gave me a disapproving look.

Bills.

No, not the kind that's attached to a duck's face. The ugly kind you get in the mail.



No one in the world likes being billed for something that they've enjoyed. Whether its in a restaurant at the end of a meal or at the end of the month for your credit card, bills just suck. They can ruin your night or the day in which you recieve them, and for people with low (or no) income they can be a threat to your livelihood and possessions.



I've just recieved a particularly nasty bill today. Seems like a little bit of free spending and mismanagement can land you in a pile of poo these days. It ruined my day, mainly because i lack the funds to make the payment in time, so i decided to postpone it for a month and hope they don't mind. Stupid conglomerates make so much money anyway.. although it is quite a large amount, they might send me a couple of notices. Oh well, can't do anything about it now. Maybe a little more self-control in the future? Although everything i've spent my money on has definitely been worth it. A small (or rather large..) price to pay for hours upon hours of pure, unadulterated pleasure.



I hope the repo men are in a good mood when they show up, i've grown quite attached to my television over the last 5 years.

Back from Sabbatical

..and wishing that sabbatical was the name of some beautiful carribbean island. But it's not, i've actually been in some little irish town by the name of Cavan doing a rotation at their quaint little hospital. Finally back to the big city, i'm amazed by little things such as the intricate functioning of a pedestrian traffic light (they were not available in cavan, amongst many other of life's little luxuries). Overall a good experience though.



A lot has changed of late, just the general feeling of growing older, wiser and losing one too many a brain cell in the process. Its a very reflective time for me, especially with all the changes in my life (the recent inclusion of a beautiful lady being a main one) and i've been pretty sidetracked from posting anything up. I know nobody's reading this, but i still feel obliged to rant on about random things to absolutely no one at all. I also talk to walls during my spare time. Helps with the stress.



They don't argue back either. Stupid walls.