India Broadband

24 06 2008

I seriously don’t know what India Broadband is to be truthful. But here I am, writing a blog about it. Long time no see, fellow readers. Thought I was dead, didn’t you? Well, don’t worry, for a moment there, I was. So why India Broadband? My questions is, why not? The forum’s great.

It has slightly interesting things like a Bollywood topic, an automobile topic and a buy, sell or trade forum. Just explore the forum and find something that suits you.





Sex Wednesdays

16 04 2008

If you’re looking for the normal Sexually based posts, but can’t find them? Then head over to SEX WEDNESDAYS!

WordPress was being a little bitch with me because of the sexual nature, but censored photos, of my blogs that they decided to close me off from the public eye.





Okay All

14 04 2008

Ennui Prayer readers, add this to your RSS

Ennui Review readers, add this to your RSS

Sex Wednesday readers, add this to your RSS





I’m Leaving

14 04 2008

I’m returning back to Blogger and creating a separate site for Sex Wednesdays. I’m not sure what that’ll be, but I’ll be sure to post it up when the time comes. In the meantime, visit me at http://www.ennuiprayer.blogspot.com





HEY, WORDPRESS, YOU LISTENING?

14 04 2008

PINCHE MARICON FLAMIN’ ASSHOLES!

FUCK YOU AND YOUR NEW DESIGN.

FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID EDITOR!

FUCK YOUR MAMA!

FUCK YOUR DADDY!

FUCK YOUR SISTERS AND YOUR BROTHERS!

BUT MOST OF ALL, FUCK YOU!

For those of you who aren’t in the know, WordPress has removed me from their public listings. Some fucking prude Christian anal whore moron (who probably masturbates to the shit I post up here) probably reported me mature, and WordPress, being the God cocksuckers’ cocksucker, decided on listing me as a null and void blog. Well fuck you!





Silence

14 04 2008

I can hear the silence buzzing in my ears. It’s a horrible sound. The last words I told her still echo in my head and I slowly feel stupid after I say them. We’re I’m in habit of telling her certain things, sweet things, I suppose, but it all depends on taste. I told her Sweet dreams as we were hanging up. She replied in the same manner.

“Always and only of…” and I held that upward inflection. What was she supposed to say? What was I supposed to say? In the past it would be followed by a you, but now what? Always and only of what we had before all this mess came into our lives? Before the urge to live a new life, a single life? There wasn’t anything I wanted to hear at that moment but I was longing for the you – the me. She always had dreams of me, didn’t she? At least the sweetest ones were of me, right? They were always of her, mostly, usually.

She just said goodnight again. I accepted it because I had done something that I didn’t want to do. This, what we have now, is all that I can expect. I shouldn’t expect more. I wish I could.

Philosopher and I were at Hastings on Friday and I saw this book. Religion has very rarely been a method for me to heal – it hasn’t been one since I was a kid and naive enough to believe that the world was created in only seven days in only a thousand handful of years ago. But Buddhism seems to come more natural to me than any other. I always said if I would allow myself to be naive and believe in something, Buddhism would be my religion.

I should’ve bought it, but I didn’t. Instead I opted for something else – a Soduku book that Jyg and I could share. Something we could do together and prove that two people can be friends despite the break up.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. That last time I told her that we were still together and things were going well – well enough to stick it through. And the urge for affection is greatly needed. I’m sick and tired of being the bum friend, the writer with a dream. The person who doesn’t drive because of some inane fears. All these things were fine and perfect when I was a kid, but I’m in the real world now, aren’t I? And the more I start to self-analyze myself, the more I’m convinced that nothing short of an asylum is for me. Somewhere I can be locked up and forgotten.

Or perhaps, I’m just reading into all the shitty thoughts I’ve been having.





Nose Bleed Fears

13 04 2008

The weather has been crappy these last few days. My nostrils are drying than an old woman’s cunt (I’ve always wanted to say that, by the way). This leaves me in constant fear every time my nose begins to drip. I quickly hold my hand over it, and then check if the fluid’s clear of it’s red.

Just a moment ago, something fell out of my nose. Gross, I know, but it wasn’t liquid. I grabbed a tissue and swiped it up from the floor and notice it was both green (gross, I know) and red. Fuck, early signs. Other early signs? About two or so weeks ago, Philosopher and I were at Barnes and I suddenly got a whiff of blood – the iron scent that chills my spine.

Most people get nose bleeds every so often, or whenever they can’t avoid shoving a finger or three up their nostrils. Mine, however, are caused with humidity rises or the air becomes awfully dry – thank goodness I live in the butt fuck of South Texas, right? And not to mention around Spring/Summer time when my allergies are at their worse. So I bleed, but because I’m blessed with such thin blood and a weak body that doesn’t heal so quickly, I really just gush out blood. Stream actually, like those lawn ornaments that piss water from their peckers, only my hose is shoved up my nose (thank you John Travolta!).

I had my last nose bleed about a year ago. The fucker gushed like you wouldn’t believed and I was in class when it happened. The weather was cooler – I know because I was wearing a jacket and the sleeve was soaked in blood by the time I got into the stall. I whirled the toilet paper and grabbed me a gob of it. I let it bleed in there for a while and sat still on the seat – yes, I checked if there was piss first. After a while I decided that the bleeding had stopped so I grabbed more toilet paper and blew my nose. This time, a gob of red goo had flung out of my nose and into the red stained paper. It was gross and it started more bleeding. I let it flow into the paper again and then blew my nose, this time being careful not to allow more gobs of goo out.

Later that week, my nose started bleeding again – nothing out of the ordinary because I’ve been bleeding like this since I was a kid. This time, I became weak because there just was so much blood coming out of my nose that it made me dizzy – Note: I wasn’t dizzy because I lost pints of blood (it was probably a cup or so) but because it seemed I would never stop bleeding. I wiped my nose, felt that I still had more blood to lose and placed a tissue into my nostril. When I felt it stop, I pulled the tissue out slowly, and lo and behold, another gob of goo, this time, still connected to me. As I pulled out the clot – I’m not sure what to call it – I felt it coming from deep up my nose. Oh great, that’s all I needed to know, my brain was really trying to escape.*

I bleed some more and then it stopped. I began to fear that the nose bleeds had finally taken on another level and were now trying to end me. My father suffered from nose bleeds like I did and the only way to correct it was through surgery. I’m afraid my pour nose will have to endure that.

*This refers to a short story (Bizarro) about my brain escaping. If you’re good, I’ll post it up, or at least a video of me reading it.








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