There are some things that I find amusing. For instance, I find old people cute and amusing, well, in general. My grandma was cute, adorable and somewhat amusing. Amusing as old people are, I can’t help but feel sorry for them. I don’t know why. But to tell you the complete truth, I have no idea what I’m talking about. I really don’t.
Anyways, now that I have regenerated Mr. Brain by giving him (my brain is a male) the much needed dosage of slap in the head, I really want to go to sleep, but I can’t because I’m now at work. I woke up so early today and got to work on time (10 minutes late) so I’m feeling a bit drowsy. And the music that my supervisor is playing right now is killing Mr. Brains out. Also, I have to be extra careful when reading other people’s blogs because some of them are full with inappropriate photos that are not suitable for work. And I’m sharing computer with another older dude. Damn!
Bus hunting is a really popular sport here. What’s that? You’ve never heard of anything so absurd and retarded? You think I’m making this up? No I’m not, especially on the retarded bit. Let me enlighten you, fellow readers. Bus hunting is much like ordinary hunting, where you go the woods and start shooting rabbits or antelopes or giraffes or baby seals, except, you’re hunting for bus (no, this is not some kind of animal, it’s a form of vehicle. D’oh). And you don’t have to shoot, which is a real bummer as I’m constantly trying to find ways to perfect my Resident Evil moves a la Milla Jovovich, as well as her Revlon ad. Campaign (Because You’re Worthless!). I personally believe I can kill all the zombies in Raccoon City, because apparently Milla is not capable of doing so (huh, and you call yourself a supermodel). I’m not sure about this because the DVD was fucked up somewhere around the BEST part EVER of the movie which led me to make such assumption. I’m waaay hotter than Milla anyway.
Moving on, here’s a description of the sport:
What: Bus Hunting.
When: Winter (especially when it rains) around 5 p.m. when everyone’s going home from work.
Where: Kharilaou Stop during the interchange of bus 66 and 10.
Contestants: Bus commuters. Priorities are given to annoying old people coming back from the huge ass cemetery wearing all black ensembles.
How:
- Warming up on Bus no. 66, two stops before reaching the designated hunting spot, Kharilaou Stop. This includes pushing the person who sits/stands next to you and securing the best position – nearest to the exit door. 50 bonus points are up for grabs if you are below 30 years old and at least 2 inches away from the door. No points will be given to those who are 35 years old and beyond because chances are you’re going to be near the door anyway, after you’ve successfully pushed EVERYONE away.
- Get in the “Ready” position when you’re about to reach the destination. This includes spreading your arms sooo wide that no one else can overtake you. Remember, location is key. You need to be as close as possible to the door. Don’t let some hot Asian dude get in the way between you and your door. Never.
- Once the door is opened, even before the bus comes to a complete stop, you need to jump out of the bus and start running. 50 bonus points if you are the first person to do so. Remember, this is a hunting competition. Therefore, instead of just running blindly, you need to keep your eyes wide open and start hunting. Just think of yourself as a lioness, eyeing on the cute, tantalizingly fresh baby elephants (1. Lions do eat elephants. 2. The elephants in this context are no.10 buses).
- The moment you spotted your prey (i.e. the no.10 bus that’s ACTUALLY working, out of the gazillion dummy no.10 buses), run with all your might to catch it. Do whatever you must – punch that guy on the crotch, slap that girl over her face, tackle that old dude with a cane so that he falls to the ground and rolls over the road and gets eaten by the vast number of stray dogs that inhabit the area (I swear they are wolves, not dogs) – like your life depends on it. Jump on to your prey and start searching for the perfect seat. Once you found the perfect seat, you are officially a winner. Not the winner, just a winner because there are 30 seats altogether and that means there’ll be 30 winners and having to share with other 29 winners doesn’t make you the winner now, does it?
Moral: You’re going to get to where you want to go anyway, even if you don’t get the perfect seat. So, all the energy thrown at pushing, jumping, running and hunting is not that worthwhile after all. So why bother? Yes, I’m talking to you, you annoying old grandma wearing all black.
Past winners: Annoying Old Grandma Wearing All Black (allegedly visiting the grave of deceased husband), Annoying Old Grandpa With A Cane and The Pre-Menopausal Momma With Too Much Make Up That She Looks Like A Clown.
Addendum:
I find that there are many old people commuting by bus. This is perfectly fine, I guess. But it’s not the point I’m trying to make. My point is that most (not all) relatively younger/healthier/stronger people seem to be ignorant/pretending to be about the common courtesy of offering their seats to old people who are standing on the bus. This makes me wonder if it’s one of the things that falls under the “just the way things are here” category. In some occasions, I can’t help but to oblige. Most of the time, I do what I’m supposed to do – offer the old folks my seat, with the occasional pushing of old guy with a cane to the ground, of course. What? I need to be in the spirit! Happy Hunting, Folks!
++One lady fell asleep on my shoulder for about 15 minutes or so while riding the bus one day. I thought it was just her hair, but it was actually her head resting on my shoulder. Since the bus was packed, I couldn’t do anything. Plus, it’s nice to know that you are giving your shoulder to sleep on, literally.
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This is the post where I’m supposed to write on how awesome I am. Really, sometimes I think I don’t think I give myself enough credit. While I am neither too hot nor too smart, I pride myself for being somewhat hot and smart. It all depends on your definition of hot and smart. In my dictionary, hot is defined as believing that you are hot (say you rate yourself 7 out of 10, 10 being the hottest man alive) and that you can one day, if you believe hard enough, become a Dior H’omme model. Smart on the other hand is defined as conducting foolish acts as a way to prove to others you are sooo cool that everyone wants to be your friend.
So the other night, being the smart guy that I am, I did something awesomely cool. Here’s the story. NJM was taking a shower when he accidentally (maybe deliberately, I still don’t know) broke the tap. Water was pouring everywhere (A lie. Water just poured in the bathtub into the drain) and there was nothing we could do to fix the tap. The only way to stop the water from running was to shut the main tap which meant we wouldn’t have water for the whole day. Me, being the cool/hot person that I am, had not taken shower for 2 days and on this dreaded day (the 3rd day), I was in desperate need to shower, or at least wash my face and brush my teeth. What was I to do? Stab my self with a blunt knife so that blood would pour right out of my arteries and then take a shower, or possibly a bath with my own blood? I contemplated my somewhat creative options when NJM suggested a cool idea (See, this is why I think he deliberately broke the tap). Why not break into next door’s toilet and take shower (the flat next door was already abandoned by this time)? I thought this was the most brilliant idea. Besides not having to pay for the electricity bill (water heater), I could also enjoy a long hot shower without any interruption (hot water suddenly turns cold).
So, I began my cool adventure breaking into next door’s toilet. There was only one way in – through the tiny ass toilet window, strategically located just beside my kitchen door. “This is going to be easy peasy. Plus, there are 4 walls covering the tiny ass window. Perfect, no one’s going to see me”. NJM was more than happy to help me and admitted that he has mastered the art of getting through the exact tiny ass window, having done it countless of times before (Another reason why I think the whole thing was already planned before hand. It’s a conspiracy theory, I tell you). First, right hand grabbing pipe, left foot securely positioned. “Shit, there’s a spider! Not even a spider can stop me this time!” I braved through the cold winter night and my phobia of spiders (and everything with more than 4 legs). I squeezed into the tiny ass window. “Where’s my right foot? Ouch, that’s impossible!” I was impressed by how many acrobatic moves I pulled off in the course of just getting my skinny arse through the window. With meticulous thinking and awesome moves, I succeeded. I turned on the heater, went back to my flat through the front door, waited, went back into the toilet through the tiny ass window (huh, not so smart after all!) just to have a SHORT shower (1. I was afraid the landlord was going to come and catch me red handed. 2. The toilet light was not working so I had to take shower with the door wide open and it would be excruciatingly humiliating if the landlord came and saw me. 3. I was afraid that a giant spider would unsuspectingly jump behind my back and eat me alive.
So there was it, just another ordinary day.
I think Mrs. Spidey came back to stalk me in the toilet yesterday.
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So how was your Christmas? You want to know how mine was? Sure, I am more than happy to tell you.
22 December: NJM’s going away get together. Hope he comes back soon.
23 December: Depressed that NJM is now gone and there’s no one to talk to and eat with. Went out shopping with CC.
24 December: Stayed in bed watching crap Christmas movies on t.v. Christmas Party that got boring. No pictures taken.
25 December a.k.a Christmas day:
- I go to 3 bars namely Thermaikos, PastaFlora Darling (short lived because it was waay too crowded) and The Resident. Seriously the best bars I’ve been here. They just reflect who I am. Eclectic and chic at the same time. God, I’m hot!
- Mak and Nat are with me. Nat, being the coolest chick that she is, knows the owner of the Resident. The owner hugs and kisses (on the cheek) her. Holy crap! The closest thing to awesome that I could get when it comes to bars/clubs is to have a friend who knows (bf/gf/ex love interest) the DJ. That’s about it. And Mak still maintains his coolest-as-hell hair of all time.
- I just want to thank these 2 lovely cool people for taking the time to reply my messages/answer my calls and inviting me out. I’m touched when you guys said that your dream of having an international friend is now fulfilled. You said friend, which makes me even more touched. Sob, sob. Then Nat goes on to say “But be careful of what you wish for”. Sigh, I hope that doesn’t mean anything bad because I’m anything but bad and I’m nothing but cool. Woooyeah! Thanks also for speaking English when I’m around. I don’t feel so lonely anymore. I had fun!
p/s: - Mak and Nat, if you stumble upon this blog while googling my name (I hope my boss doesn’t do this), let me know what your plans are in New Year. What ever you do, invite me…I promise I’ll increase my cool level to be as cool as you.
- Mak, hope your diet is going according to plan and Nat, I think I can be a cool toy boy too if you just introduce me to the owner of the bar. I promise.
- I forgot to take pictures. Damn! This also means we need to hang out more often and take pictures.
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