Until she sings.
Until she sings.
That is it.
A colleague at work laughed out loud when I told him I listen to rock music (and also when I tell him that I do drive to work).
What is it with the skepticism and incredulity surrounding me these days?
Looks like I have to pierce and dangle five large and long ear rings in each ear, get a tattoo of a three-headed bulldog somewhere on my left arm, and a thick black string with a clean white tooth of a cobra (albeit with a little dent on its edges, due to a vicious fight between said cobra and a spotted leopard) attached to it as a necklace. I shall have to learn to plaster a smug yet sulky look on my face, while holding a small, rolled up piece of paper between my fingers (hey, I am too cool to smoke).
To top it all off, I will have to wear clothes of the darkest colours possible, don a pair of sunglasses even at night, with matching boots that reach right up to my knees and emit the most annoying sounds whenever I walk. It might look ridiculous if I were to drive a Renault Kangoo, so I will have to settle with a red hot Ferrari instead.
Apparently I look so unconvincing and unsuspecting most of the time, that no one takes me seriously.
Not that it is totally a bad thing, really.
Well, I guess no matter what anyone else says, the members of the society do judge others by the way they look.
Interestingly enough, there is an article concerning the Malaysian blogging community published in a local magazine with the title, coincidently (or not) – ‘Boleh Blogs’, although I doubt that it has anything to do with BolehBlogs at all. Still, I am considering buying the magazine just for the thrill of seeing the name of my pet project in print – despite the spacing between the words ‘Boleh’ and ‘Blogs’, as present in the title of the article. It had better be a RM3 well spent.
Trivial spaces do make all the difference there is, I suppose.
Do I sound disgruntled?
On air now: She Has No Time, Keane