Nuptial Congratulations/Death/A fat man's worldview

First off, I did like to congratulate Ms(or should that be Mrs. now?) Chompunatt Krenger on tying the knot with Mr Krenger. Your brother was kind enough to send some of the pictures and like I told him, you looked beautiful. Here's to having many many many years of marital bliss and happiness.

Death has not been kind. Not to the celebrities anyway. I mean, I realize that death is an everyday part of life. Just last week there was a funeral behind my house. And a dead dog that was repeated run over till it resembled something akin to tomato puree near my dad's house. And the 5 mosquitoes I just killed and impaled their heads upon little improvised pikes to scare away their kin before they take another bite from He who's Blood is Like a Nutmeg and Honey Donut with Chocolate Sprinklings , or in mosquitonese. EEeEEEEeeeeeeeeE. And the 50 ants I killed with Commercial insect spray. You get what I mean. Death happens. But only to us "normies". Its like every week there's a celebrity death. Ms. Fawcett, Mr Jackson, Ms Ahmad, Mr Robson, Mr Mays. The list goes on. And it was all in the space of one month. Methinks death has become bored of us normies and craves to be hispter death with above mentioned celebrities. Or maybe he's forming a football team, with Mr Bobby Robson as coach. Anyway, what Im trying to say is, death is stalking, paparazzi style, and its disconcerting. These people entertained us and will no longer now. Instead the guilty, the corrupt and the immoral are still as springy as a spring chicken and no doubt at this very moment making the world a lot more shittier for the rest of us normies. Disconcerting. Oh, and I suppose condolences to the family and acquaintances of the deceased mentioned above. You touched our lives briefly but you touched us nonetheless. Metaphorically.

So, I admit i read Michelle's blog off and on. And surprisingly, Im not angry or "emo" as she put it anymore. In fact Im happy that she's found some happiness and is getting on with her life rather well. I don't know if its sincerity or indifference. Or maybe a bit of both. I can't say. All i can say is that Im not angry anymore and our chapter has come to a close. She has been relegated(or elevated) to memory of which i sometimes recall and then smile and say, that is the past and promptly get distracted by a scantily glad girl sashaying her way across the street while I hum The Door's "hello I love you" in my head and stare, at which point said girl catches my stare and promptly walks away faster upon realizing that she received a stare from a potential contestant on The Biggest Loser Asia.

Speaking of which, I entertained the thought of entering said competition, mainly for the money, partly for the weight loss which will guarantee me a 110% increase in pussy getting. Pussy as in the derogatory term for a woman's vagina and not the Michael(the cat) kind. But upon sizing up( pun unintended) the competition, I felt that I would dismissed out of hand as someone who requires just a little bit more exercise to ensure hot tamale-esque physique. It also got me thinking that I should befriend some of the said competition to be used as a foil so that I would seem thinner in the group of the BMI challenged. Having established what a bastard I am to think of such a thought, I promptly wondered if my friends see me that way since they all aren't BMI challenged while I am bordering on said levels. I then despaired till i saw a girl in short shorts(or micro minies..whooo) and fishnets with a tube top(and looking good I might add) and all was well again. Yes, I seem to live or be at areas where hot people peruse and wander through, causing us normies to stare and have a sharp intake of breath and spontaneously burst into humming obscure dittys about hot girls. Or the playlist at zouk, whichever takes one's fancy first.

Great, now i can't get that door's song out of my head. Then again I just came back from a mamak which catered to the after clubbing hours crowd and I was humming the song for a good half an hour.