I... am a wannabe social animal. I cling onto my friends for dear life, and yet cannot push past the boundaries of closeness. At the same time, I am preoccupied with my private space, and am filled with wrath against those that would cross that line. Give me my book, good music and a comforter and I am a happy person. And still I need my frens to validate me. It's a connundrum I tell u.

Went on a lunch date with gorgeous person Rani. And let me once again say (or for the first time say... whichever) that buttered scallops covered with garlic on a hot plate, is one of Man's better inventions. Sigh, yes I know, I shouldnt eat expensive food. But... it's... buttered scallops covered with garlic on a hot plate. BUTTERED SCALLOPS COVERED WITH GARLIC ON A HOT PLATE. A HOT PLATE.

ahem

Also learnt how women can be scary at times. Hell hath no fury like a woman's wrath. Or something like that.

And in the evening, caught that dish-dashing movie that is Tokyo Drifters. Mighty fine cars. Mighty fine drifting. Mighty fine FINE ladies. Life can't be better. Though my right eye is blind from trying to follow all those flashing shots, and my brain feels much smaller now. Still, my pulse is racing and I saw FINE ladies, so all is good.

Now I should sleep. To wake up at 430 for spain. Go Spain.

And all that.

Italy 1, Australia 0

and thats the end of that dream.

Days of excitement are here ladies and semi-gents. Y? Cause my fairly-weathered frens of carbon origins,
KNOCKOUT ROUNDS ARE HERE.

There. The CAPS have arrived, meaning that that last statement... was IMPORTANT.

Knock out rounds are fun. They determine the character of the teams, the willingness of the player. The fire. The fight.

Ah... to be alive!

And awake. I slept at 12am, then woke at 430 to watch Argentina and Mexico duke it out. Then slept again at 730, only to rouse myself from such rest at 1230pm. Ah the rigors of the day.

Struck once again by the sense of melanchony. But I will persevere! Depression begone!
In the meantime, here are some pictures :D



Ahhh... the Happy Horse. Scourge of Depression. Champion of the Mildly Deranged and Infinite Peppy. Like Crack. Crack Horse he is.



As pretentious as it might seem, I quite enjoy this shot. That artsy feel you know.



OMFG. I say old chap, who is that dashing fellow over there. So Godlike and young and nubile and... ah crap...

Now go home.