1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

Money is a many splendored thing. I spend time worrying about money like someone who cares about the planet spends time thinking about all the ways Mother Earth could combust or collapse from all the fucking terrible stuff we're pouring into her. I dream about money, all the ways I could spend it, the clink-clinking sound of coins dropping onto cold, hard marble-topped counters ringing in my ears. Man, nobody wants money like I do. I dream of holding it in my hand, the green dollar bills crisp and tight and smelling like Wall Street Greed, which to me, smelled like bagels and lox. It smelled like high-end sofas and shit like that. It's a pity when when Gordon Gekko said, '' Gimme guys who are poor, smart and hungry," he forgot the girls and he definitely forgot someone like me. I kept a copy of the Wall Street Journal under my pillow at night and I read it like the Bible. People around me always aspiring to be doctors to cure cancer, engineers and lawyers- sure,...

'Sorry, Q, Mama said knock you out.' I imagine myself saying this to the tall, ginger Q. She has an upturned, ski-slope nose that is somehow in keeping with the rest of her careful, precise features- the small off-purple lips that seem devoid of oxygen, the sparse red eyebrows plucked almost to non-existence, the storm of freckles that dominate her sunken cheekbones that are vaguely reminiscent of a Viking forefather. Sharp chin, angular face like the rest of her, even her personality like her body seemed to be filled with hidden edges, sharp angles, no soft crevice. She'd be shocked, tucking her long hair behind her pointy ears, pressing her folded arms against her chest. Then it would turn into subdued annoyance, at my obstinance, for she hated anyone questioning her authority. 'You what?' she'd say, the words blasé from her puckered painted pink mouth, not like a rosebud but a plump pomfret mouth, the fishy lips quivering indignantly.  Her uppe...

She spits the blood out of her mouth onto the bathroom floor; staining the impeccably white marble tiles a scarlet red. He pushes her down to the floor and kicks the area she thinks her left kidney might be and slams the mahogany door shut. A sudden bout of nausea takes ahold of her and she crawls, with great difficulty to the expensive toilet, and grips the toilet seat. Her stomach heaves a few times. But she doesn't throw up. Too little food, she thinks, silently in her mind. She lies against the wall, a frail hand resting on her throbbing back, the other on her throbbing head. Out of nowhere, or perhaps somewhere, a dark faraway somewhere, there flitted out a memory. Blurred, unfocused and most certainly hazy, but still a memory. She was sitting at her neighbourhood's library and worrying about her university exams, rubbing a spot just above the left side of her temple, where she frequently got headaches.  Her hands were shoved inside her warm purple jacket sleeves as...

Ok, so if it hasn't been made obvious, although I think it is pretty obvious, I am a left-winger. What does this mean??  Quite a Nice explanation Yeah, this generally means I wouldn't support anything remotely related to Donald Trump/ Republicans (for you Americans :) ) or for a matter of fact, anything Israeli.  If a country itself should be so blatantly right-wing, I think the award should go to Israel. And yet I do not condemn Israel. Or rather, I do condemn its actions especially in Palestine, but I think I am free from prejudice about Israelis in general or Jews.  Most people, particularly in Asia mistake anti-Israel sentiments for anti-semitism. It is a most dangerous mistake.  Jerusalem But, back to the BREAKING NEWS bit. So my senior- let's call him Tom, recently defended a certain local celebrity for selling hijabs to Israelis. This made me infinitely more interesting to me. Think how a guy with a girlfriend would be infinitely more interest...

" L 'enfer, c'est les autres"- Sartre The camera pans in, on an eye. (the eye is black irised, as opaque as possible) I want the eye to blink; sounds of footsteps , high heels.  Cut to a woman walking the empty corridor (front view)then cut to her walking from side view. Her phones bleeps, she draws it from her side pocket and breaks into a run.  *Full Moon - The Black Ghosts*/ 'let me know-silver swans' the camera follows her , alternating between angles. She reaches the hill outside dorm house.  It's raining, and she sits down on the hill. Pulls out a map. *Camera sees the red line she draws on the map. Map labelled with 'dreams' untidy writing' Zoom on her smile  her bag, the grass.  -she throws out all the things that have held her back.  *books *glasses *picture of her boyfriend *money *lithium looks up at sky, bites lip. turns to the sky, camera does 360 around her. she says silent prayer. Mouths the wordS ...

'If you are absolutely determined to make a lawyer out of yourself, the thing is more than half done already."- Abraham Lincoln So totally true I think I have finally found my calling; after serious deliberation, and a few nervous nail biting episodes, I have settled on pursuing a law degree then becoming a solicitor/barrister  . After this, I intend to become a judge.  I thought hard about becoming an accountant but how long can one sit pressing a calculator? It's true only the best survive but then again, I really think it runs in my blood.  I would work myself to the bone if only I was given a chance. As Leslie Chow from the Hangover said, 'He gave me a fighting chance. That's all Chow needs.' I'm sure I would enjoy those torturously long hours writing essays, and slaving over court cases.  Marshall Eriksen from 'How I Met Your Mother' is probably my role model. It's not going to be easy, certainly not, but then I am pre...