Watch Out

I have been idly toying with several post its ideas. I mean, I enjoy expressing my feelins here but sometimes, I don't like rereading all the mushy stuff I write. It makes me want to go puke my guts out.

I have not watched anything really satisfactory lately. I have been bingeing on a diet of animated fables and I have immersed myself on the familiar...all safe. No fringe lit, no fringe movies ( I don't watch indie films anyway) and no nothing. ( I live my life totally on te fringe!).

But, I have discovered a rather dirty past time. Huh. You just have to believe it.

As a fringe faculty in my old time Alma Mater, I have been treated to a lot of live shows lately (sometimes, it involves me, but usually, it involves others.) And what funtastic shows they were. They often range from the hilarious to the downright grotesque.

Teachers do have penchants to burst out once in a while and head teachers are more human than they would care to admit. Besides, a hair-challenged principal could not really claim his total fame to notoreity unless he lives up to his underlings expectations (ie. be hair jealous).

Anyway, my stay here at my beloved Alma MAter has been a definite eye opener. Haha.

I was passing by the notorious watchman who trains the school band about lunch time earlier. I still had to log on to the ever-respected school bundy clock and Mrs. Bund Clocks husband (the great watchman) was busy checking department logbooks all the while muttering inanities to himself.

Huh.

You might say that our official watchman (as in he watched men log in and out daily) was the perfect eye of the hair-challenged principal. Yes, what a perfect eye. He is always there, in the guard house during log in and out times, his hawklike eyes watching over us in fear that a kindly co teacher logs on for another (it happens anyway).

But, as the saying goes, when hair-challenged god goes away, the bundy clock husband will play.

(Am I trying too hard to be satirical here? In truth, I am afraid. A co teacher just might read all this crap and reveal me for a lambaster that I am. They all think I am a nice, cute and quiet harmless little mouse.)

Anyway, Mr. Watchman would often leave his wife alone for hours on end when the boss is out. And the rest of the people? Of course, they'd have a good time. Helping their fellows meet the required working hours without even going to schools.

And Mr. Watchman? He'd be standing guard of course, when the boss has come back once more.

Human nature. Is it not fun? I mean, we tend to be really self-righteous all the time believing ourselves as uncanny arbiters of the one and only truth.

I guess, I'll be spending most of my time watching colleagues at work. The watchman is not really an easy target.

You see, I really did not care about him. I just did not like his bossiness earlier.

Someday, I'll tell you about the bundy clock and how it helped the teachers shake lose the guilt they would ordinarily feel if they don't do their duties well.

I might also tell you about my own self-discoveries. But that would come later.

Anyway, right now, I am rereading a Paulo Coelho book. It really is different to read something after several years. I was only eighteen when I first read The Alchemist. Five years later, I realized I missed a lot of things from my previous haphazard reading.

Anyway, I hope I can share my thoughts about this one later. Working in an internet cafe where battle cries and sounds ring all over you is not really good for the concentration.

It makes one wish that the player gets hit by the rain of bullets. Bratatatatat!!!

The Pulp Demigods

I feel sick.

I have been surfing one big romance publishers website for over an hour now. I was checking out books descriptions and I am starting to feel a bit dizzy.

The most common hero archetype in pulp romance,especially the ones I buy are actually the hot-blooded Mediterranean (hey, did I speel that correctly. I always stumble on that word!) men.

I have always made a point of buying titles with rich, Italian, Greek, Sicilian and whatever -ian creatures you have there as heroes.

It was, honestly, an unconscious choice. I usually get hooked first by the description in the back cover and before I knew it, I end up with a romance novel with a rich Greek tycoon or an Italian prince of a pretty obscure kingdom.

They usually are dominating men, good in bed and quite the hero. I always feel excited aboiut them. And before I knew it, I have now developed a fascination for Greeks and Italians.

However, after my one hour tour, I am wondering, aren't they overrated? I mean, no ones perfect.

So, why are there a lot of Italian and Greek romance heroes?And why do they always have to be rich and influential and not just like ordinary people?