Alrighty!
Chhayanat has come hobbling back again to your darken your virtual doorstep! Honestly speaking these days sometimes I feel like a teeny weeny leetlil chicken running around with its head cut off. This Prairie winter's been howling outside my window for so long that finally I am giving in. My tropical fucking bones need the heat sometimes thank you very much. So however much I liked to meet the magpies in the Mill Creek ravine while they told me how they brought Aurora Borealis from the north pole on one endless dark winter night, squawking and cawing, I want to go back to my effing crowded city full of little brown sweating-profusely people. As it is, half of my time these days is spent lying on a table exposing my slender back to the Chinese horrors of Acuneedles. Believe me or not, I am the Reverse Bhishma Revisited on the bed of arrows.
On other news, I am getting sucked into the lomo-whirlpool big time. So much so that one of these days in spite of my stupor I managed to haul the fishycam to the table of Acuda and demanded that he take a picture or several of my thorn-adorned bare back. Remember Matrix?
Talking about movies, apparently the big Oscar night came and went. I was kind of engaged in some other stuff that required more attention. One such is my first drag show. May be I am at the far end of the spectrum but I miserably failed at seeing the point of nightclubs and drag shows. Nightclubs may be fun for some but they do kill your eardrums. And since I am not planning to get into the whole serious discourse of the politics and economics of sexuality, let's just say that I was not impressed with the drag either. It was a drag queen pageant and it was as sad as any other beauty pageants are. Thank you but no thank you.
Chhayanat has come hobbling back again to your darken your virtual doorstep! Honestly speaking these days sometimes I feel like a teeny weeny leetlil chicken running around with its head cut off. This Prairie winter's been howling outside my window for so long that finally I am giving in. My tropical fucking bones need the heat sometimes thank you very much. So however much I liked to meet the magpies in the Mill Creek ravine while they told me how they brought Aurora Borealis from the north pole on one endless dark winter night, squawking and cawing, I want to go back to my effing crowded city full of little brown sweating-profusely people. As it is, half of my time these days is spent lying on a table exposing my slender back to the Chinese horrors of Acuneedles. Believe me or not, I am the Reverse Bhishma Revisited on the bed of arrows.
On other news, I am getting sucked into the lomo-whirlpool big time. So much so that one of these days in spite of my stupor I managed to haul the fishycam to the table of Acuda and demanded that he take a picture or several of my thorn-adorned bare back. Remember Matrix?
Talking about movies, apparently the big Oscar night came and went. I was kind of engaged in some other stuff that required more attention. One such is my first drag show. May be I am at the far end of the spectrum but I miserably failed at seeing the point of nightclubs and drag shows. Nightclubs may be fun for some but they do kill your eardrums. And since I am not planning to get into the whole serious discourse of the politics and economics of sexuality, let's just say that I was not impressed with the drag either. It was a drag queen pageant and it was as sad as any other beauty pageants are. Thank you but no thank you.
