Ramblin'

God, just my second month of trying to blog and I can't even think of anything to write!
So, I am going to do the real 'blog' thing.

First up, one of the best collection of signboards that you will find on the Internet,
Funniest top 10 signs
Check that out. I personally liked the Most Obvious One.

The past couple of weeks, I have been trying to find a movie called "Glengarry Glen Ross".

Glengarry Glen Ross is a 1992 independent film, adapted by David Mamet from his acclaimed 1984 Pulitzer Prize- and Tony-winning play of the same name. The film depicts two days in the lives of four real estate agents and how they become desperate when the corporate office sends a representative to "motivate" them by announcing that, in one week, all except the top two salesmen will be fired. The film, like the play, is notorious for its use of profanity, leading the cast to jokingly refer to the film as "Death of a Fuckin' Salesman".^[1] The actual title of the film comes from the names of two of the real estate developments being peddled by the salesmen characters (Glengarry Highlands and Glen Ross Farms).

No Luck yet. But any of you loyal readers find it, give me a shout.

Wystan Hugh Auden (21 February 1907–29 September 1973), who signed his works W. H. Auden, was an Anglo-American poet, born in England, later an American citizen.
"Funeral Blues" or "Stop all the clocks" is a poem first published in 1936 by W. H. Auden.
I first heard it in "Four Weddings And A Funeral"

Here is to one of the greatest poets of the English language that you may never hear of -

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Real reason for remembering him now is the alarming number and significance of deaths in 2009.
Here is the complete list - Death09.

Brittany Murphy died yesterday at 1800 GMT. I watched 8 Mile a while back and Happy Feet yesterday (6th time). I found out today.
Man, life is sure screwed up.
She still missed the magic figure, though.
33
Bruce Lee & Jesus H. Christ.
No kidding. Both died at the age of 33. (The 2nd one is more of a probability)

Do you ever get the feeling that this world is not really what it looks like?
I get that a lot of times. But not the deep philosophical feeling.
I am talking about the superficial, empty feeling you get when you see something really crazy and twisted in this puppet play.

Sometimes I think we are just some high-er school ubër nerds' Science project. He (Could it be a She?) just decided on a whim to add a little soda bicarb to the classic high school Volcano exhibit and Hey, Presto! - Earth in all its heathen glory.
Don't get me wrong.
I am not complaining about my life or anybody else.
It's just that I sometimes wish that there is some method to THE madness.
And also secretly pray that the kid does not get tired of us and give us up for something else
(which may have already happened)
OR even worse, decides to trash Project Earth completely...

Do You?