Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Chronicles of A....vol 3 : The day of tears……

Hi all!

I have been remiss in my duties. The barrage of festivities have made me extremely busy, but I ain’t complaining. For once in my life, I can honestly say that I’m actually playing more than I’m working/studying.

Now I’m writing this entry in the comforts of my own home, watching TV and enjoying a wireless connection. I’m so freaking lucky. The day is sunny, windy and I’m on leave! The day cannot go better.

But as usual, I digress. Much have happened and much as I would like to blog about them all, I couldn’t. I wanted to express my happiness and joy meeting the many friends during the last 2 weeks. Thanks goes out to J, Nad, Deek, Vanna, Jaschoc, Meepok, Hitomi, Kelawar. I also had the pleasure of my dear friends who came over to my place, our traditional X’mas celebrations have come a long way, guys! Over and over, I hope it never ends….

On the other hand, something did end. The topic of today’s blog involved somebody I loved, whom I didn’t know I loved till the last moment. Sure I knew I liked him, I’m sure I knew I would like to spend an inordinate amount of time by his side.

But dun tell me about Love. Love is overrated. Love doesn’t put food on the table, nor does it prevent 2 otherwise loving people from quarrelling and hurting each other. Love is infatuation, puppy love, a feeling that never comes when u wish for it and always refuses to go when you are dying from it.

Melodramatic ay? Yup, pls tell that to the Qiong-yao serial readers. The last time what I tot I felt was love was actually only a crush.


Oh well…..

In any case, I shall try to be as honest as I can be here under the circumstances.

to say: A and I had a disagreement, we had a quarrel. It was small enough to be trivial but big enough to be destructive.

to say: I cried. It’s not something I’m proud of. Other than reading lomance and watching lomantic movies, I hardly ever let tears fall, being usually too sensible to risk blinding my eyes with gallons of salt and having my nose stuck 10 miles long with wet tissues.

But when I cry, I bawl. Yeah, I can do the kung-fu equivalent of the Ru-Lai-Fuo-Zhang (Buddha's Palm). There is nothing delicate about me when I tear up. It’s all salt, water, mucus and a one-half box of Kleenex’s finest 3-ply.

Which was why A was so utterly bewildered and horrified. His little dirty-minded, nonya confectionery was turning extra gooey and runny, something he’d not witnessed before. His past gfs were the softly-tearing shu-nu sort. I should know, I knew them personally and have actually been witness to their delicately wet eyelashes. They cry like pageant queens and lousy beautiful actresses. They always end up looking more ethereal in the aftermath, proving once again that I shall never find out why in hell A sees in me, other than the fact that I’m not suicidal and light doesn’t project out the left side when u shine a torch into my right ear.

I swear he must have trying to find out the same thing that day too.

In any case, the quarrel ended with sorrys exchanged but needless to say, it was unresolved. I went to work with swollen eyes and feeling all out of sorts. Getting distracted at work only made me more cranky and unhappy….I even teared up again in my dad’s car and made him extra nervous with the taxis.

It was a thoroughly bad day for me, is the 21st of December.

So when the gauntlet came, it was totally unexpected. I was home alone and watching TV when A came over in the evening.

‘We need to talk.’ He said.

Oh no. My heart shrunk a bit, I think, judging by that squeezing tightness of my chest.

‘Dear’ He sighed. ‘I really do appreciate the time we have together, our friendship. Everything about us, it was wonderful. I never felt so comfortable with anyone before.'

I stared at him blankly through my panda eyes. He thinks I’m stupid. I used these same words on my ex-BF when I dumped him too. Almost word for word.

But, I thought, you'd say 'but'. There’s always a ‘but’.

‘But.’ There it is. Ha. Now, he thinks I’m an idiot. Oldest trick in the book, boy, to spring your surprise after worthless statements of hope. My eyes narrowed.

But,’ he continued gravely. ‘It’s not enough for me.’

This is Karma, surely! Kuan Yin is punishing me by using cruel irony. The speech might have been scripted by me 5 years ago….Salvage it, you fool! Take control of the conversation. I force open my pinched mouth, all contrite and afraid.

‘Look. If this is about yesterday, I said I was sorry. It’s not a big deal. Couples quarrel, that always happens. You can’t expect everything to always turn out sparkly and spanking clean.’

His eyes glazed. But I put my palms on the side of his face for emphasis and forced him to stare at me.

‘Nothing’s perfect. We aren’t perfect for each other. Nobody is. We have to work at it. Together. Isn’t that what we wanted? Isn’t that why we are together? What else do you need?’

A shifted uncomfortably and my heart, just now shrunken like a cherry pit, now dropped like a thousand pound dumbbell. He’s not listening nor responding.

I dropped my hands. I mused that I can hear the security locks tightening around my heart for an eventual rejection. It’s another re-run 5 years hence. Like a connoisseur, I recognized the signs and appreciated the moment, the body’s self-defense kicks in, poised for bad news.

I shall not be made to feel unwanted again. I’m strong. Of cos I can take it, I’m not born a shrinking violet. So there.

But the tears. Like brats, they run away from the whip of my eyelids. I couldn’t stop them. Idiot, I scold myself, when I see him back up again at my reaction. Where’s the iron girl he's always admired?

He left the sofa and I watched him go to the side table where he always puts his valuables. He’s going to leave. He's going totake his things and walk out.

Then he turned back and he held in his hands, a box of tissue and a package. Slowly, reverently, he pulled out a piece and passed them over my brimming eyes.

‘Don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.’ Which only made me cry all the more. Pathethic, sniveling flop that I am. He cannot see, but I love him to Bits. I didn't know last time but I knew it that instant. I do. Love him. And he says it's not enough.

‘Then don’t watch lah. Go. Leave.’ What bravado. I am amazed at myself.

He looked back curiously.

‘Leave? Why should I leave? And for that matter, why are you crying?’

I flared up like a smashed Molotof Cocktail.

Because! You think it’s not enough, we’re not enough, it’s not good enough! You want more! Don’t have to say it! I know it! You want out. That’s why! So go!’

To my horror, I started hiccupping again. I put my burning wet face into my hands.

‘Just go lah. Leave me in peace.’

He sighed. And retaliated.

‘Sometimes you are just so drama. You think you’re sensible and practical, but you aren’t. You sing like Elmo, then sometimes you sing like a Pro. You even cry like a water-hose. Half the time, I don’t even understand what’s going on inside your little head.’

He took my hand and slowly force open my wet palm and placed a round velvet ball in my hand.

‘I don’t know what you are trying to achieve by coming all teary over me. If it was about yesterday, it’s already over. Didn’t we say sorry together?’

I fingered the red velvet unconsciously while he continued scolding. I realized what had started out as a sigh from him was actually an enormous temper threatening to erupt.

‘It wasn’t enough. Of cos it wasn’t enough. We are damn good friends for longer than 5 years, don’t you know me or who I am? Think, will you?! Think!

There was more to the outburst but I wasn’t listening.

I was staring at the red hard ball in my hand.

It had hinges.

My eyes grew wide.

Then just as fast as he started the tirade, he stopped and plucked the ball from my fingers and with the other arm, he wound it around me to bring me right up against him on the sofa. Then as fast as his temper came, it went swiftly and was replaced with a slow smile. He gave a quick hug and said, ‘No matter. That is over and done with. In fact, I have a surprise for you.’

And he opened it.

‘Funny how you actually said ‘sparkly’ just now. I thought you already knew.’

Nestled in the white cushions was a ‘sparkly’ starburst. I was struck speechless.

‘Now, I know we just quarreled yesterday but it’s a trivial thing. We’re good friends, dear, we always find a way to work it out. As for this, I went and got it today for Christmas, but once I had it, I couldn’t wait...... Oy. Hello?....Oy!’

He headbutted me to get my attention.

Dumbly, I looked up from the ring. It was all too bewildering. One minute I thought it’s over, the next….

‘Will you marry me?’

'I....we.....' I was incoherent. My mind, being geared for a painful withdrawal, wasn't prepared for a sudden 180 turnabout.

Then what should happen but that the faucet started turning again

A did another double-take when I grabbed his shirt to my face and wailed mercilessly into his polo-tee.

‘Wah lau! Don’t you ever stop crying? Damn, where’s the tissue?’

And amid his frantic rush for a 3-ply Kleenex, I gave the most fearsome bawl I’ve ever had onto his chest. Ring all but forgotten on the coffee table.

It was a weirdest feeling. The sensation of crying due to sheer joy.

Yes. I’ll marry you.

Yes. I love you.

Thank you. For loving me back.

Thank you. For everything.


AKK:) *no more tears*

Monday, December 19, 2005

Alcohol made me do it...

Hi all,

I just recovered from a party..... There was a game to change the lyrics of "let it snow" in 10min flat.... Towards the end, I discovered that everyone else's lyrics are of angels, well-wishes and lovely snow.

I almost managed to wrestle away my entry from the 'emcee', but he was brawny and has hams for fingers. Even then he had to physically pry my fingers away from that piece of paper while tickling me.

Since I have no face left, (never did have any), I've posted my entry here.


The weather outside is frightful
But the heater is not that helpful
Since we’ve got no place to go
Off the tops, and the pants, give a show!

The alcohol’s running freely
And the guests are acting funny
The lights are turned way down low
Off with it and show me your pole!

We were a bit rough with the cuffs
So the policemen came that night
Some idiot has swallowed the key
So now I’m chained to the tree!

Oh! Photoshop can’t make me look like Shu-Qi
So send back the Paparazzi
What’s left now's the bloody tree
And millions of porn pics of me!

....The alcohol made me do it....

Merry X'mas!!!


Wednesday, December 14, 2005

The Dark Chocolate Rendezvous: Senses meme No. 3-Taste

Hi all!

Have I got fodder for the senses meme on ‘taste’! Actually I almost almost! did not remember this incident, since it has been buried in the deepest darkest recesses of the mind. It’s with regards to my first bf (ex), the lawyer (now), the child (then) and first Crush (been-there-done-that).

It’s not something that I like to recall, esp since I’m attached again, but hey, that’s Life lah. All sour and sweet, happy and sad.

It’s the chocolates that reminded me. I was doing some light grocery shopping. My basket was filled with useless carbo-laden, trans-fat-saturated, artificially seasoned nachos; pork-floss rolls and bak-kwa by the kg and the sinful ‘Nuts about NUTS!’ choco-peanut-butter ice-cream which I regard with utmost respect as ‘the hoarse-whisperer’ ….*salute*

Yup….very light shopping, only 3 items.

Then I came upon the chocolate aisle and saw this:

The heaven called Dove Dark Chocolate

Dove’s bitter chocolate.

And the memories came flooding back.

It was the time when my ex-bf has had a broken leg and was locked at home day and night. It was my 2nd yr in Uni and I was visiting him in the midst of my exams, being nanny to his needs, although he had a maid and a part-timer Mum that cooks his meals. Oh yes, the self-martyrdom was on at ‘high’ during that time.

It was one of those nights where we were both alone in the living room watching ‘Being John Malkovich’ on VCD, when he hobbled to the fridge and got out this pack of Dove chocolates.

He gave me a square and I took it. That square of heaven started warming up and slowly melted along the sides of my mouth and tongue.

While I know it’s a myth that chocolates can make girls happy, I was in utter agreement. Suddenly, my whole body relaxed after a hard day’s studying. My brain calmed down from watching the flashing TV.

My heartbeat slowed. My eyes closed. I swallowed the liquid chocolate, leaving a soft gooey sliver in my mouth.

And then….I opened my eyes to him bending over me.

There was another square of heaven between his lips.

We *CENSORED*CENSORED*. It was absolutely *CENSORED*CENSORED*, the feel of his *CENSORED*CENSORED* made my *CENSORED* tingle in extreme *CENSORED*CENSORED*CENSORED*CENSORED*. The taste of his lips on my *CENSORED* as he *CENSORED*CENSORED* was so graftifyingly *CENSORED*CENSORED* that I immediately *CENSORED* in *CENSORED*. We took another chocolate square and *CENSORED*CENSORED*CENSORED*CENSORED!!!!*.

Sigh… I have never seen Dove chocolates the same way since…. it was, in fact, an absolute perfect moment in the sea of sad nostalgia.

Too bad about the PG rating though….




An aside: Heaven does not come and stay, it just visits as a series of jolts between depression and/or mediocrity. May my Life always be as such, rather than an endless length of sterile peace and calm.
Oh yah...just to burst your bubble, we only kissed....heheheh...

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

The Dark Tai Yang Shen--- sense meme no. 2 -Sight

Long Blog Entry ALERT!!!
You have been sufficiently warned...proceed with caution. Author not responsible for boredom, dry eyes or dilated pupils....

Hi all!

Actually, I intended to split the story into 2 parts....but hell, i couldn't decided if splitting it up when i already wrote it was a good idea or not, so I just plunged the whole thingy down. When I say long hor...haiz....it took a week just to get all the memory down. Enjoy (or not). Ahem.:)


I spent the better part of the morning one day reading the comments to 'Letter to My Tih-Kong' and ended up almost scolding everyone I know an egg becos they all pleaded guilty to asking for rain. Then I read jay’s comment....

Jay "Peek -a-Boo" Walk said...
I remembered last time you told me got this foreign worker climbed to your window grill and peeped into your room.

Maybe that was the Tai Yang Sen but you drove him away. Hence the gloomy mornings. :P

No prizes for guessing Jay is now top in my list for ‘Jidans- Re weather.’ Then Zhebin caught a whiff and wanted to know...

Zhe Bin said...
How come that foreign worker can 'climb' until your window grille one?!

Good question. Which is basically my whole train of thought that right now I should be writing another sense meme on ‘sight’.

This takes me back to my 3rd year of Uni. And of cos, a digression here on some things that you should know before I continue:

a. I was a nerd. Yup and still am. I’m proud to say that I can outread anyone, provided the prints are big enough and pictures are colourful. I am also one of the hateful KS students who always never ask questions during lesson, but will hang around and prevent the lecturer from having an early lunch. I’d go so far as to say I even sent emails full of questions to my professors to plague their weekend golf. Most of the time I wonder why they were so hard to find when I needed them and yet, they always seem to be surreptitiously standing behind pillars and potted plants wherever I go.

b. The length of my bed spanned my window. When I say I love the sun, I was worshipping its presence. I painted my room yellow because bright sunny colours inevitably makes me happy (scientifically, it also made pple eat more, which explains some things about me at least…). My bed was high enough to place me on the same level as my window. So when the morning sun rides in, my whole body is lighted ablaze in heat and I literally get baked awake. If you can’t imagine, then think about Snow White’s Glass Casket….That would be how I look like from the window…..

er….minus the 7 dwarves, minus the chio-ness and minus the Prince Charming…..although, even if Prince Charming had been there, he'd probably run away screaming. And the Dwarves welcome me as their brothers...

c. My bedroom is on the second floor. I live in a Goode Olde 5-rm Mansionette. I must reinforce this point so u guys can understand that I wasn’t intentionally trying to give anyone a show or grope by sleeping sooooo close to the window. Anyone just had to poke their fingers…poke only! And u would have touched me.

But you’ll either have to be 4m tall. Have 3m long arms. Or 2m long fingers. You choose.

d. I wasn’t anything to look at. Which made this peeping-Tom incident so utterly bewildering to me. Want to break the law? Should do it with more finesse, style and above all, good taste mah! Regardless the punishment shall be the same anyway, so just pick a good sultry, nubile target lah! Haiyah! Even I myself think it’s so wasted!

It all started close to the end of the semester. Not only am I a chao-kuan KS student, I’m also a 1st-class chao-mugger. 1st class not meaning that I score well. The essence of mugging, as this model chao mugger shall tell you now, is not reflected in the grades.

No, the essence of mugging is in spending the huge fricking amount of time to study one choujibloodydan module, night and day, no skiving, no resting and still end up with choujibloodydan results like the next guy who spent that same fricking amount of time playing soccer….

I have honed this mugger attitude right down to its very existence, its very being!Find me anyone who can mug like I do and still score like I did and I shall embrace him/her as my equal….

OK, back to 3rd year. The finals were fast approaching so I was executing the fine art of Chao-mugger-ness late into the night for the past few days.

I’m sure you all have heard and tried this style before, but I bet you guys don’t know its name. For shame! It is the 1-Ton-Textbook-on-Bed-Soft-Like-Lotus-Petals Technique. This ancient technique is practised by every able-bodied mugger, but beware! Practise it too much and it shall ruin your Life! Because most often than not, practitioners of this style become highly addicted to it and slowly lose their focus (tak-chekiness).

In fact, many who tried too much and too hard, have fallen to the dark side (or-or-koon) because they are not skilled enough to handle its mesmeric power. Many highest level Chao Muggers have fallen in its trap, dreaming that they are studying in their sleep.

All along, I’ve been studying in school (1-Ton-Textbook-on-Hard-Bench-Like-Nails). So the introduction of the new Mug-Fu gave my aching body a much needed reprieve. But as you can guess, being a novice of this new dlang, I started going home earlier and earlier. My textbooks and notes begin a revolution on my bed. I wake up suddenly at curious hours in the night with the light on, with no recollection of having studied and yet, my face adorned with backward print. Yes, I was going the sieh-tao.

One fine night, I was alone and about to execute it again the door bell rang. A strange uncle with long straggly hair, singlet and shorts, greeted me beyond my grilles.

He spake thusly, ‘Someone’s watching you.’

And I said, ‘Who?

And he said, ‘I dunno.’

I was about to ram my big wooden door on his fingers and run screaming for the phone when he blurted out.

‘He looks at you when you sleep. From the window, he looks at you.’

My hand released itself from the door and calmly amid rising gore, I said,

‘Uncle, tell me all.’

And he told me.

For the past few nights that I have been practising 1-TTOBLSLP, someone had been climbing the water-pipes to the second floor of my home and peeped in on me. Mr Ravi stayed at an opposite block level with mine and had been catching Late-Night Soccer on his TV which was placed under his window. So for the past 3 nights, he had seen this black shadow standing on the small parapet outside my corridor.

I was scared out of my wits.

‘Uncle, did you see what he did?’

‘Yes, he did nothing, just look. Hands on the grille.’

‘How long?’

’10 minutes.’

I was aghast.

‘Uncle, why you never call Police?’

Mr Ravi shrugged.

‘I thought he your secret boyfriend. Like Romeo and Juliet.’

I felt faint.....

‘Then why now you telling me?’

‘Because yesterday, he climbed up another window after he climbed yours.’

Good Grief…..

To make matters somehow worse, I went upstairs to check on my belongings and truly, as Mr Ravi said, he did not take anything, even my HP, which was held in a hanging basket right beside the window in plain view. When I unlock the grille and stepped out to check the water-pipe, I found blackened footprints all over it….

Why didn’t anyone see it? I was feeling real scared by then….

Our block has an Official Peeping Tom. Who had nothing to do and was peeping at me! ME!!! Why is he still walking the Earth? Why is he still alive?! At the very least, how come he's not blind yet?!

So the police were called, and Mr Ravi puffed up his chest Big-big to tell the police everything he knew and saw, then had to be put under Suspicion and Interrogated because the police was wondering why he did not make a report earlier. By then, I was thinking really hard the past few night wondering if I had been groped, molested or stroked anywhere across my body. No leh, I tell myself, but I was dead to the world siah, like how to know?

I was acting slightly hysterical liao, so I was following a hansem policeman around, asking him to take his notes properly, tried to do the policing for him, correcting his spelling etc. and showing him the prints left along the parapet.

‘Sir, look at them, they are quite small, so he must be quite short.’

*scribble scribble* ‘OK.’

‘Erm, is that all you are going to do?’

*looks at me* ‘Yes?’

‘Well?! That's it? Aren’t you going to do something about it?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like, u know, brush it and lift it? Make a copy of it??’

‘No, Ma’am. We don’t do that.’

‘Why not? Then u can match it to the criminal wat!’

‘Because Ma’am, we only have a database for fingerprints, not footprints.’ I see his mouth twitching already. He must be imagining the process of asking those hard-living criminals to step on a wad of ink, then stomp over a canvas like Hollywood stars.

In the midst of the interview, Mr Incompetent asked,

‘Mr Ravi said the guy peeped in at 2am in the morning. He also mentioned that your night-light was on.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘So what were you doing at that point in time?’

‘I was streaking for him studying on the bed….ahem.’

*perplexed* ‘And u did not see him?’

‘erm…mostly I was sleeping….’

‘but your light is on?’

I looked him at fully in the face, obviously Mr Incompetent-but-Hansem is not a Chao Mugger versed in the art of the 1-Ton-Textbook-on-Bed-Soft-Like-Lotus-Petals.

‘Sir, I tried to study in bed with my light on, but I fell asleep instead.’

‘And you were wearing?’

I closed my eyes. ‘Nothing My textbooks My pyjamas.’



Mr Incompetent-but-oh-so-Hansem screwed his face and tried to imagine why anybody might be interested to climb up a water pipe just to peep in on someone covered from head-to-toe in breathable cotton, lying facedown on a tome with her hands by her sides, with her face and all her interesting bits hidden between her whale-like back and the bed for 3 consecutive days….

The dead have been known to look more alive and naked with better poses.

At the end of the interview, my parents have arrived home and were sincerely concerned. Mr Ravi puffed up his chest again to recount the tale of the shadow-man and his not-so-involved involvement in it.

That very same night, the police laid an ambush for the Shadow-Monkey. But we didn’t care about the police anymore. You see, our own family had a plan. Obviously the guy who peeped on me doesn’t have much taste in women. So we decided that Dad should sleep in my bed that night. To the worker’s thinking (and mine), it might even be an improvement in aesthetics.

And if he were to peep in again, Crouching-Tiger-Hidden-Dragon-Pah shall be ready to take out his eye(!) through our window grill with one of our bamboo pole whose previous role was to sun clothes. This will upset the guy’s precarious balance and hopefully, if my dad pokes him hard enough and far enough (said pole is 2m long), not only will he fall off the second floor of my home, he’ll fall right off the parapet and thus off the entire HDB flat.

It was a cruel trick, I admit, but the whole thing had turned into a Comedy version of Crime-Watch and I wasn’t about to let my dad run away from his daughter-protecting duties. In any case, it was terribly amusing to see my big beefy Dad snuggle under my own covers pretending to be me. We even got him a pair of pyjamas that looked like mine.

Oh, oh, and of cos it was also a cruel trick to want to push the criminal down 8 storeys of thin air. It's gonna really hurt. *cough* BTW, it was pink…my PJs....

It was all terribly exciting. I couldn’t sleep that night because dad was snoring too loudly. My mum and I had fashioned a rough weapon from tying the screwdriver to a short pole, which I slept with at-the-ready leaning against the wall machiam like a soldier. Suddenly we hear a slight scruffling sound and my heart leaped into my throat. I was ready with my screwdriver at the window, prepared to plunge it through no matter who was on the other side. My blurry Dad was having difficulty poking his own pole through cos it was too long.

And then there was a big shout, ‘There! There! He went there!’ It was Mr Ravi, keeping a virgil from the opposite block, with his own arm out frantically waving at the direction of the fleeing peeping Tom. There was a huge burst of sirens from the carpark downstairs and a lot of shouting as plain clothes policemen sprung from both ends of the flat to bear down on the tasteless Pai-lang.

We watched from the window as a skinny Indian man was handcuffed and dragged into 1 of 3 police cars downstairs. The sirens then blared just once and drove away. It was all over in 10 minutes flat.

I have since moved my bed away from the window and added a double-lock and curtains. I never saw Mr Not-that-Incompetent-but-still-very-Hansem anymore. On the other hand, I often see Mr Ravi peering into my room from his whenever the curtains aren't down and waving cheerfully whenever he sees me.

I have a different sort of Peeping Tom now...


AKK :)

The Chronicles of Z ....Vol. 2

I was MSN with Z recently and I experienced a Matrix-moment again. First was when I was at NDP and everything went slow-mo.....

This time .......oh well......just read on.


AKK: hahhaah...i was reading about the female version of F4...

Z: got female version?

AKK: http://emiriyoshikawa.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-f4-girls-amy-tiffany-stacy-fanny.html#links . they don't sing at all... they just have big boobs...

Z: oh... later then i read lah... office how to read?

AKK: muahahaha....scared simi?....hehehe

Z: iShy

AKK: *gag*

Z: tmd.....

AKK: wah....shy still can swear.....

Z: i tmd shy ....

AKK: and i belong to a monastery....

Z: tmd...... -_-"......grrrr......

AKK: hahahahaa.....so cute so cute....

Z: who?

AKK: u lah! haiyah...

Z: bor lah...... *blush*....

AKK: Good grief...here we go again...

Z: iShy

AKK: *gag*

Z: tmd.....

AKK: wah....shy still can swear.....

Z: i tmd shy ....

AKK: and i belong to a monastery....

Z: tmd...... -_-"......grrrr......


...a Matrix-glitch-cum-Groundhog-day-cum-Buttefly-effect Moment....

Round and round and round it goes.... Posted by Picasa