Doctor, Please Help Me!!

It's a quarter after four, I'm little drunk and I need you now,

I wonder if  ever crossed your mind, For me it happens all the time. -adapted from a song of the radio playing in the background.

Sending this out to the one that got away. Your know your "The Cure" that I've been looking for.

Good Night Doc.

Return of The Usual Suspect

Time: 3.59am
Last Blog Post: 2years 4months ago.

Initially, this blog was inspired by a good friend and her life back in University. Having to deal with problems of a final year student didn't much help due to the fact that the only person she "had loved" was far out at sea. Well as the saying goes, "Nothing lasts forever"..hmm, kinda reminds me of  a song I once heard. Oh well if you must know, she's currently enjoying life in Borneo with a new hunk. So yeah, here I am left with no source of inspiration and nothing to blog about.

Well I guess these days, it's very much subjective on what a blog is to a person be it for promoting their thoughts, ranting their hearts out or even just treating it like a diary for people to read.

"Life As It Is" : is mostly going to be about the random thoughts, feelings and emotions that this writer will occasionally rant out for the world to read. Yeah, real personal diary its gonna be ain't it. So if your thinking like what the hell is he talking about???, don't bother troubling yourself and just click that little ("x" button) on the top right hand corner of your screen and save us both a lot of trouble... =)

If your still reading this line, then through some miracle I must have intrigued you to carry on this little journey with me. So if you have the time and nothing better to do, which I know most of you do (spending hours on facebook or twitter isn't exactly spending your time well u know) then your more then most welcomed to have a look.

An Extraordinary Gentleman

She had been trying very hard not to admit it, but there was something about this new person that made her hair stand on it's ends whenever she was around him. Ever since their first encounter at his presentation, she would often get caught red handed by her peers giggling to herself  like a "no brain bimbo" for no reason at all. Perhaps she was too lost in her little fairytale, where she would immense herself being pampered and treated by this refined young lad. She had a weakness for men that wore shirts and had rolled up sleeves, and it so happened he fell in that category. One would think that a simple crush or so she portrayed it to be would be harmless, but if  a crush that lasted for 7 to 8 years would be bordering obsession and deep down inside she knew this all too well.

He came from a well to do family that lived in an area where the rich and wealthy called home. He was educated in one of the finest learning institutions and later had a spell abroad to gain further exposure in developing his already outstanding career. He was top of his class acing every examination and maintaining a 3.98 average over the years not to mention the way he gave his speeches was as if one was listening to a future democrat at a bi-election campaign for human rights. Clearly, he was head and shoulders above her previous crush and was far better in many ways. Ahhh..truly he was the man of every girl's dreams and she was one of them.

But she was afraid that a girl like her would never meet his expectations amidst the numerous drooling girls he had chasing at his feet. She did not have a face that would appear on the covers of top magazines nor possess a physique that would get her top modelling contract deals, everyday was a bad hair day and she was as clumsy as a drunk trying to juggle beer glasses when he was way over his limit.

However, during lunch one day, she was astonished to find out from a friend that he was indeed very easy going and would walk up to girls to introduce himself with a handshake. No wonder all the girls went crazy over him. There were several cases where girls would feel their legs turning soft as they melted away like butter on a hot pan whenever they were in his presence. Some girls on the other hand couldn't  even find themselves looking directly into his eyes for fear they would st udder to find the right words or be left dumbfounded when he greeted them.

All this new found information that she discovered was a bit overwhelming but it had brought her liking of him to an entirely new level. And she did what girls do best..just like what all girls do when they are unable to confront the man of their dreams.....She STALKED HIM.

Why Are You So Obssessed With Me??

DISCLAIMER - The author of this blog intends to make known that posts are purely work fiction and the sole purpose is to entertain readers and not to damage or hurt any particular person / party's reputation in the process. Any parties that may feel or claim to have similar happenings in their own lives should disregard and not read this blog should they feel it to bring or cause them mental or emotional harm. The author does not wish to be sued for "libel" charges and NO, THE AUTHOR IS NOT OBSESSED WITH YOU.

That being said, happy reading folks.

~Cheers

The Case of the Red Paint

It was in the wee hours of the morning just like any other day, when her beloved bunker boy got out of his bunk, put on his overalls and headed up to deck to begin his 12-hour shift. Working on board a dredger sure was tough but he didn't mind it at all. He knew that come month end he would have money to send back to the folks, some to put away in his stash which he was saving up to get married perhaps, and a little balance to get by. He didn't need much as he had lead a simple life growing up.

Mid day and already feeling the effects of the hard labor getting at his thin yet muscular physique, he decided to pause for awhile to catch his breath. As he stood in the corner, he reached for his cell phone  which was tucked away in the right pocket of his overalls. Taking it out, he opened it and had a look at the screen. Of course there were no incoming messages as they were far out at sea and there was seldom any reception. However, it was not for that reason that he drew his phone, rather it was so that he could have a view of his beloved which was the wallpaper on his fragile flimsy yet still usable phone. Every time he looked at her, it was as if he had a breath of fresh within him. It got him through the rough times and always reminded him that back on shore she was always there, waiting patiently for his return. Every night, after a hard days work, he would call her at their usual time. It was like a 12.35am routine you might say and even though their conversations were  short and most of the time she would be either busy or half asleep, getting to hear her voice was more then he could ask for.

He gave the screen a short peck and then slipped it back before returning to his work. It was only  awhile later that he realized his right pocket was feeling a little bit lighter then usual. You know how things are when you put them in your pocket, they add a little bit of weight as you move around. As he moved his hand over his overalls to feel for his cell phone, a sense of horror struck him. He had been sure he had put it back in its place but where was it?? It wasn't there??

He looked around for a bit before hurrying back to the corner where he had taken a short breather.To his misery it was there that he discovered his cell phone swimming in a red bucket of paint. With  a heavy heart, he dipped his hand to retrieve it. As picked up the soaked phone, it had gotten from "Scratched up Silver" to a new "Solid Red.."

Would this be the end of his calls to his beloved?? Would he ever get to hear her voice again?? Well for most that would have been the end, but not for our young lad as he would find other ways. He would not give up that easily and be beaten by a bucket of red pain, no sir he wouldn't. And you can bet your bottom dollar at exactly 12.35am that night..... "ring ring..." , "ring ring...."  *incoming call from Bunker Boy*.