<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725</id><updated>2011-11-28T05:23:26.374+05:30</updated><category term='Cars'/><category term='Simon Cowel'/><category term='Reality TV'/><category term='George Lucas'/><category term='Murali'/><category term='Chrisopher Nolan'/><category term='Jaffna'/><category term='The Lord of the Rings'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Cricket'/><category term='Attempts at fiction writing'/><category term='Bush'/><category term='Lust'/><category term='Comics'/><category term='Bikes'/><category term='Israel'/><category term='Batman'/><category term='Heath Ledger'/><category term='American Idol'/><category term='Anime'/><category term='Sanga'/><category term='Christian Bale'/><category term='Attempts at photography'/><category term='Rants'/><category term='The Joker'/><category term='Sri Lanka'/><category term='Ramblings'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Attempts at poetry'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='Star Wars'/><category term='Michael Jackson'/><category term='Television'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Star Trek'/><category term='Calvin and Hobbes'/><category term='The Dark Knight'/><category term='Issues'/><title type='text'>The Paparé Chronicles</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>65</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7022273862087384073</id><published>2010-04-26T01:22:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-26T01:22:31.574+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><title type='text'>This is not a poem</title><content type='html'>You think your opinion counts&lt;br /&gt;Think you make the world go round&lt;br /&gt;It's all abut sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll&lt;br /&gt;What on Earth can you do? Fuck-all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You dream of a better tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Where there is no hunger or sorrow&lt;br /&gt;You kid yourself, thinking yours is the only way&lt;br /&gt;And feed your crap to the kids everyday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You speak of a world where everyone is the same&lt;br /&gt;Little do they realise you're just playing a sick game&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's gonna change; the end is nigh&lt;br /&gt;So fuck this shit and let's get high?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not that simple, as you very well know&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later, she is going to blow&lt;br /&gt;What then, are they to do?&lt;br /&gt;Get up and shout "fuck you too"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7022273862087384073?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7022273862087384073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7022273862087384073' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7022273862087384073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7022273862087384073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-is-not-poem.html' title='This is not a poem'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7223695826383814011</id><published>2010-03-26T11:31:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-26T11:31:49.087+05:30</updated><title type='text'>To all you disappointed Akon fans (and haters)</title><content type='html'>The director and, quite possibly, the art director for the music video of Sexy Bitch by David Guetta feat. Akon made a mistake by using a Buddha statue as a prop. It couldn't possibly have been unintentional on their part. Even if the statue was already there near that swimming pool, there is no way they could've missed it. However, having said that, I find the suggestion that it was done intentionally as a mark of disrespect for Buddhism a little hard to swallow. Maybe it was; I do not know. What I do know is that the Western psyche is such that, in the eyes of the average white boy/girl, anything Asian/Indian/Chinese/Japanese is of an 'exotic' nature and they have somehow got to have a replica of that in their living room (or near their swimming pool, in this case).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, even if it was not intentional, they should've known better, considering the American pop music industry is no longer exclusive to American audiences. These music videos receive worldwide airplay every single day on MTV, VH1, etc., etc. It would've/should've occured to SOMEONE on the production team, from the record label, or at least one of the distributors that it was wrong, unethical and bound to cause a stir in some distant corner of the world. But as we all know, most Americans are only vaguely aware of a world outside their borders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the video was made, the song became an international hit almost overnight and the rest, as they say, is history. There's no point regurgitating the things that happened and the things that were said following the announcement of Akon's proposed performance in Sri Lanka. I don't know if Akon himself had anything to do with the production of the video. He probably didn't. Especially since he was a featured artist, I'm guessing he didn't have a lot of creative control, if at all. So, I don't know how fair it was to pin the blame on him and him alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, shit happens, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it is my personal belief that the government made the right choice in the end, it goes without saying that on an international level the government's decision to refuse to allow the Senegalese-American singer a Visa to enter Sri Lanka has done nothing to improve the country's image. Also, we missed a golden opportunity to promote tourism and make some decent foreign revenue by "importing" fans from neighbouring countries for the concert. However, it is safe to say that the government, taking all things into consideration, managed to prevent a sequel to the 2004 Sharukh Khan drama from being played out, which can only be a good thing if you really think about it. Human lives are far more important than money. God knows, enough blood has been shed on this land already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, chill out and go see Gay Sean... and do some butt-wiggling... if you're into that sorta thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7223695826383814011?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7223695826383814011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7223695826383814011' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7223695826383814011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7223695826383814011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-all-you-disappointed-akon-fans-and.html' title='To all you disappointed Akon fans (and haters)'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1806427669192375938</id><published>2010-03-22T11:49:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-22T11:55:01.282+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Truly, madly, deeply in love... with a song</title><content type='html'>Can someone please (pretty please) tell me where I can find the full version of this particular remix?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qN9Ab7j1cQA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qN9Ab7j1cQA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="305"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1806427669192375938?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1806427669192375938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1806427669192375938' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1806427669192375938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1806427669192375938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/03/truly-madly-deeply-in-love-with-song.html' title='Truly, madly, deeply in love... with a song'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-998317499488139540</id><published>2010-03-08T23:56:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-03-08T23:56:56.034+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><title type='text'>Meh?</title><content type='html'>I want to write a poem about you&lt;br /&gt;Something silly, immature and maybe a little weird&lt;br /&gt;But I can’t seem to find the right words&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I’m just too lazy and tired&lt;br /&gt;I dunno…&lt;br /&gt;See, I can’t even get this to rhyme&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that means something&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it doesn’t&lt;br /&gt;Who knows? Who cares?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what to think&lt;br /&gt;One minute I want you forever&lt;br /&gt;Next minute I’m not so sure&lt;br /&gt;Ah, I think I managed a little rhyme there&lt;br /&gt;No, not really… yeah&lt;br /&gt;Anyway…&lt;br /&gt;I think I like you&lt;br /&gt;Kind of&lt;br /&gt;Sort of&lt;br /&gt;A little bit&lt;br /&gt;Or more&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;I do know one thing, though&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday…&lt;br /&gt;I missed you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-998317499488139540?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/998317499488139540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=998317499488139540' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/998317499488139540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/998317499488139540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/03/meh.html' title='Meh?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6971614985112719200</id><published>2010-02-04T00:16:00.016+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-04T00:32:03.430+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><title type='text'>Independence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They came, they saw, they conquered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They stole, they doled, they wandered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked, we fought, we thundered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We won, we stalled, we blundered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m clearly no poet but if I could sum up our post-independence history, that’s how I would do it. It has been 62 long years since our first prime minister, the honourable D. S. Senanayake, proudly hoisted the national flag that black and white February 4th morning (I say black and white because the only footage available of that historic moment is, sadly, in black and white) and, looking back, we have to ask ourselves how far we’ve come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2nGrYXSb1I/AAAAAAAAAIc/cB717N67WK8/s1600-h/800px-Flag_of_Sri_Lanka.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 119px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2nGrYXSb1I/AAAAAAAAAIc/cB717N67WK8/s400/800px-Flag_of_Sri_Lanka.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434092873976016722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A lot of blood and sweat was shed to achieve independence from our colonial masters, and although some might argue that we didn’t “win” our independence but it was merely given to us purely for the sake of circumstantial expediency, the fact remains that our national heroes of all ethnicities, religions and castes fought tirelessly with much vigour and patriotism to win our freedom and that freedom struggle paved the way to achieving Dominion status in 1948, effectively ending a 133 year British occupation (yes, it was an occupation – in many ways).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, decades later, it is safe to say that those national heroes must be spinning in their graves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our freedom struggle, although not a perfect one, was unique in that it was a true manifestation of the hackneyed phrase ‘unity in diversity’. The Sinhalese, Tamils, Muslims and Burghers were all united, at least on the surface, in the face of a powerful foreign adversary and they were able to work towards the one common goal of gaining independence for Ceylon – and they pulled it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ever happened to that unity? Why were we not able to hold on to that? Where did we go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now divided along lines of ethnicity, religion, financial status, political predisposition, etc., etc. Not that such division wasn’t always there, but back then it wasn’t so apparent and we had the capacity to not let that get in the way of moving ahead as a nation. What changed all that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at the results of last week’s Presidential Elections for instance. There is a clear division of the vote along ethnic and financial lines. While an overwhelming majority of the rural Sinhalese voted for President Mahinda Rajapaksa, the Tamils in the North as well as voters in the heart of Colombo and other urban areas voted en masse for General (Rtd) Sarath Fonseka, which begs the question, WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do the Tamils feel that they must not vote for the preferred candidate of the Sinhalese, and vice versa? Why does the so called Colombo Elite not want to elect a candidate not backed by the UNP for once? Aren’t we all part of the same citizenry? This is not to say that everyone should’ve voted for one candidate and not the other, but shouldn’t we as a country give priority to the bigger issues, such as, I dunno, the freedom and the resultant, (albeit short-lived) togetherness and harmony our forefathers fought so hard for? Shouldn’t we all at least &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;vote&lt;/span&gt; as one nation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The country is at an important crossroads now. A three-decade-old bloody, meaningless war has come to an end. We’re in the threshold of achieving economic stability, if not fast paced development. Isn’t it high time we put these petty differences behind us and moved on, at least as a mark of respect for the likes of Mr. Senanayake to whom we owe so much? It's better than celebrating them once a year, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Image courtesy &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Flag_of_Sri_Lanka.svg" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6971614985112719200?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6971614985112719200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6971614985112719200' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6971614985112719200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6971614985112719200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/02/independence.html' title='Independence?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2nGrYXSb1I/AAAAAAAAAIc/cB717N67WK8/s72-c/800px-Flag_of_Sri_Lanka.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7027180633631335791</id><published>2010-02-01T18:35:00.010+05:30</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:52:14.376+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jaffna'/><title type='text'>On the road to Jaffna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bTODUJXsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qMCzxcireXg/s1600-h/Welcome-Nortice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 60px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bTODUJXsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qMCzxcireXg/s400/Welcome-Nortice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433262238830517954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in Jaffna two weeks ago, backpacking and camping. And it was awesome. There is no other word to describe the experience. It was my first time in the fabled peninsula famous for its Palmyra trees, grapes, terrorists and friendly people. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to travel to the country’s formerly war torn North, and when I finally got around to doing that last week, it was truly a rewarding experience. I couldn’t help but feel it was worth the years and years of waiting. It was that good. Even after decades of conflict, Jaffna didn’t disappoint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train ride from Colombo to Vavuniya was fast and uneventful, but it was a pleasant one nonetheless. As the train was whizzing through the outskirts of the North Central Province, I took a quick peek outside the window, just to have a look at the night sky outside. What I saw blew my mind. The sky was crystal clear and was littered with hundreds and hundreds of the brightest stars you could ever hope to see with the naked eye on an earthbound location. If you’re into astronomy like me, it’s worth taking the Vavuniya train just for this. The cold wind hitting your face while you’re traveling at 60 miles per hour with your head sticking out the train window only adds to the overall effect. It’s out of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back to the story, Vavuniya is where the journey to Jaffna really begins. The town doesn’t look very different from towns closer to home, like Kurunegala or Ragama. Take out the Sinhala signboards and replace them with Tamil ones, add a little more heat, and also a few extra pinches of salt to the food, and you have Vavuniya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn’t look like the three decade war has had much effect on the place. If there is a strong military presence in the town area, it is hardly visible. The people seem to get about their business unhindered and happy. We didn’t get to spend much time exploring the neighbourhood, though. We had a bus to catch - the Vavuniya-Jaffna bus plying on the world famous A9 highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bUYuGGsCI/AAAAAAAAAIE/3jqLFVEVkKA/s1600-h/Jaffna-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 177px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bUYuGGsCI/AAAAAAAAAIE/3jqLFVEVkKA/s400/Jaffna-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433263521624666146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bussing it is the way to go when you’re up in the North. I spent almost the entirety of that three and a half hour bus ride from Vavuniya to Jaffna on the footboard of the crowded CTB bus and I’m glad I did. The footboard offers the best possible view of the beautiful landscape on either side of the nearly uniformly straight A9. Barring a stretch of about 15 kilometres where it gets a bit jolty due to a few scattered pot holes, the road is mostly well carpeted and is super flat. You can easily hit a 120 here. It’s every driver’s dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus was stopped at the Omanthai entry-exit point for checking. It was surprisingly quick, but very thorough. The soldiers who checked my backpack were pleasantly surprised to hear that me and my ragtag band of friends were from Colombo and wanted to know about the eclipse we were going to see. They were a friendly bunch, I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speeding through Kilinochchi, I found my eyes wandering the waysides desperately looking for any sign of its bloody history, and I found nothing. The only thing to indicate that it was the epicenter of a massive battle just over a year ago was a gigantic water tank that had been ‘chopped down’ using explosives, like a tree. There was nothing at all to indicate that it was once the “capital” of land controlled by the LTTE. Everything appeared to have been erased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing through Elephant Pass and getting into the Jaffna lagoon was one of the highlights of the trip. There were no elephants, but the sheer vastness of the open terrain with water on either side of the road was mesmerising. It’s enough to take your breath away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bUlbE2DrI/AAAAAAAAAIM/MCAHH0zNZxQ/s1600-h/Jaffana-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bUlbE2DrI/AAAAAAAAAIM/MCAHH0zNZxQ/s400/Jaffana-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433263739857407666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we finally got to Jaffna Town we were all hungry and exhausted but immensely satisfied. The peninsula itself will take a few pages to describe, what with the friendly people, the colourful shops and Kovils, Point Pedro, the beautiful beaches on the west coast of the peninsula and a host of other sights that could probably fill a book. I shall not attempt to do that here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let me try and describe what the town is like. The average Jaffna citizen’s preferred mode of transport seems to be the bicycle. I think there are more bicycles here than there is any other type of vehicle. I could be wrong, but there was a bicycle everywhere I looked. The town is reminiscent of towns like Wellawatte where there is a large Tamil population, but there is something uniquely different yet very familiar about the place. It is abuzz with activity, much like Wellawatte, but not so much that it suffocates you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shops and street vendors that sell all sorts of food items, toys, coloured Papadam, etc., etc. line up Jaffna’s busy streets, occasionally interrupted by a ‘saivar’ joint. And these saivar joints are where it’s at, so to speak. You have just got to try out them out. The food is nothing mouthwateringly exotic, but eating dosai or string hoppers off a banana leaf in a crowded Jaffna r&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bU7m_2KEI/AAAAAAAAAIU/8AnjKxADf1s/s1600-h/Jaffna-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bU7m_2KEI/AAAAAAAAAIU/8AnjKxADf1s/s400/Jaffna-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433264121014790210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;estaurant is an experience worth having. Just make sure you throw the leaf into the dustbin before you go. If you don’t, the waiter will ask you why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is much, much more to be said about this amazing place of course. This post will not do it justice. &lt;a href="http://sinhalayatravels.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;SinhalayaTravels&lt;/a&gt; will probably have something up soon. But I have to say, the trip taught me a lot of things. The most important lesson I learnt was that there is still hope for this country. Peace IS possible. The war is no longer there and the people in the North genuinely want to live peacefully with the rest of us. It shows when they help you pick the right mangoes, when they stop to give you directions to the bus stop. They’re as sick of this meaningless “conflict” as the rest of us. Now is the best time to visit Jaffna and other places in the North and East. If you have the time and the ability to make your way there, please do so. It will go a long way in building peace and harmony. You owe it to this country. Think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7027180633631335791?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7027180633631335791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7027180633631335791' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7027180633631335791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7027180633631335791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/02/on-road-to-jaffna.html' title='On the road to Jaffna'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/S2bTODUJXsI/AAAAAAAAAHk/qMCzxcireXg/s72-c/Welcome-Nortice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2362177729762690884</id><published>2010-01-30T13:47:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-30T13:49:10.628+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The world is just awesome</title><content type='html'>These ads aren’t exactly brand spanking new; most of you with access to cable TV might have already seen them. I, however, discovered them only recently and was simply blown away by their sheer brilliance. Thought I’d share. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5BxymuiAxQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V5BxymuiAxQ&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a0jZzBEKIMc&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a0jZzBEKIMc&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the more recognisable faces in the two commercials…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Stroud from Survivorman, James Cameron, Bear Grylls from Man vs. Wild, the MythBusters guys, the great Stephen Hawking and everyone’s favourite Autobot Optimus Prime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many can you spot?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2362177729762690884?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2362177729762690884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2362177729762690884' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2362177729762690884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2362177729762690884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/01/world-is-just-awesome.html' title='The world is just awesome'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-9124049068901467174</id><published>2010-01-11T11:12:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2010-01-11T11:18:38.316+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Why we vote</title><content type='html'>So the colleagues have started debating the outcome of the upcoming elections – to death. There is more or less equal support for the two main candidates right now, although things could change over the coming weeks. Everyone is passionately trying to convince those from the other camp that &lt;i&gt;their&lt;/i&gt; candidate is the one that should and &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; win. They’re so into it, you’d think their lives depended on it. They argue every morning. They talk about it during lunch. They talk about it at office meetings. It’s insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes a few people from one camp will get together and start talking among themselves about how their man is the best candidate ever, while not forgetting to eagerly and liberally badmouth the other guy like he’s the antichrist or something, as if he’d personally done something evil to them. It must be the whole ‘feel-good’ factor of it all. Apparently it makes you feel good to team up with a bunch of likeminded individuals (even if you hate their guts) and bash a common “enemy”, especially when he can’t hear a word you’re saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above, I’m sure, is a phenomenon that is taking place not just in my office, but pretty much everywhere else in the country right now. There is nothing wrong with a healthy debate of course. This is a democracy after all, at least on the surface. But I can’t help but wonder why we do what we do. What is it about these candidates that make people abandon all reason and rationality and follow them blindly like a herd of sheep, defending their every sin? What makes us so passionate about our political stance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, they say, is a political animal. Like it or not, politics plays an integral part in our lives. Sri Lankans, especially, live, eat, drink and breathe politics. We all know that an overwhelming majority of our politicians, whatever party or political ideology they claim to represent, are nothing but a bunch of daylight robbers who lie through their teeth on a daily basis. They cheat us, steal from us at every opportunity they get and generally mess things up for everyone, but have the audacity to come knocking on our doors whenever an election is announced, begging for our vote. And we vote them regardless. We blame them for everything that has gone wrong in this country since “independence” and yet, come election time, we’re more than happy to cast our vote for them. That’s how much we love our politicians. And they love us too. It’s a complex love-hate relationship that is almost beautiful and poetic by nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They need us to stay in power. We need them to provide us with &lt;s&gt;entertainment&lt;/s&gt; solutions to our problems. We vote one party (or several, as the case may be) into power, and when we get sick of it we replace it with another. More often than not the replacement is just as inefficient and corrupt as the replaced, if not more so. So, despite our knowing better, we queue up at the polling booths every six or so years eagerly awaiting our turn to mark the ballot paper thinking we have the power to change things. We delude ourselves into thinking that we, the people, are powerful and call all the shots when, in reality, that is never the case. The reality is that a powerful few keep exchanging control of the powerless masses, ably aided and abetted by the latter. It’s a cycle. Is that necessarily a bad thing, though, considering we seem to be doing relatively well compared to some of our neighbours? We may never know. But one thing is certain: it is here to stay. Unless we wake up from this slumber, this trend will not change; and as things stand now, chances are that might never happen. The question is: do we really &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; it to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-9124049068901467174?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/9124049068901467174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=9124049068901467174' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/9124049068901467174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/9124049068901467174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-we-vote.html' title='Why we vote'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1700445945889675750</id><published>2009-12-21T00:05:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-21T00:05:25.634+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><title type='text'>You are...</title><content type='html'>An enigma to many&lt;br /&gt;A bit naive to some&lt;br /&gt;A nuisance to a few&lt;br /&gt;You are..&lt;br /&gt;An oasis to "them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make you...&lt;br /&gt;A loser&lt;br /&gt;An idiot&lt;br /&gt;A loner&lt;br /&gt;I make you...&lt;br /&gt;One of "them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me...&lt;br /&gt;A freak&lt;br /&gt;An addict&lt;br /&gt;A thief&lt;br /&gt;You make me...&lt;br /&gt;A criminal to "them"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are...&lt;br /&gt;A dream&lt;br /&gt;A nightmare&lt;br /&gt;A story&lt;br /&gt;We are...&lt;br /&gt;... nothing to "them"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1700445945889675750?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1700445945889675750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1700445945889675750' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1700445945889675750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1700445945889675750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/you-are.html' title='You are...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7870240406129705150</id><published>2009-12-14T10:45:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-15T10:31:26.885+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Jingle bells, Christmas sells</title><content type='html'>Jingle bells&lt;br /&gt;Christmas sells&lt;br /&gt;No one gives a damn&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what fun,&lt;br /&gt;It is to ride an open market scam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jingle Bells&lt;br /&gt;Christmas sells&lt;br /&gt;No one gives a damn&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what fun,&lt;br /&gt;It is to ride an open market scam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dashing through the gore&lt;br /&gt;In a one-track bullshit sleigh&lt;br /&gt;O’er the mires we go&lt;br /&gt;Laughing all the waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;@#*$&amp;^!*^$(@!#$^(*@#$^(*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK commercialism!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspired by the Joker’s version of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Veju4PxhuGc" target="_blank"&gt;Jingle Bells&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7870240406129705150?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7870240406129705150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7870240406129705150' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7870240406129705150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7870240406129705150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/jingle-bells-christmas-sells.html' title='Jingle bells, Christmas sells'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7406680345925263370</id><published>2009-12-11T16:25:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-11T21:36:49.284+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><title type='text'>Movie of the year?</title><content type='html'>Please vote for your favourite flick of 2009. The poll is on the right side of your screen. Feel free to leave a comment about your pick.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7406680345925263370?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7406680345925263370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7406680345925263370' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7406680345925263370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7406680345925263370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/movie-of-year.html' title='Movie of the year?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1005711693496380633</id><published>2009-12-11T14:40:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-15T10:29:24.337+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Freedom?</title><content type='html'>“It is better to starve free than be a fat slave,” is a quote attributed to Aesop of Aesop’s Fables fame, although its authenticity (and amazingly Aesop’s very existence) is somewhat disputed. Well, whoever said that obviously hadn’t tasted a burger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re all a bunch of big fat slaves, irrespective of waist size, and we know it. We are slaves to multinational companies who force their products down our throats. We are slaves to a global mass media whose lies we swallow whole. We are slaves to organised religion. We are slaves to our own egos. We are slaves to ourselves. And you know what the best part is? We enjoy every minute of it, yours truly included.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s right. We have become such a commodity-centric species that our very survival depends on mass consumption of poison, lies and delusions on a daily basis. Isn’t that just great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there’s the fact that we are so morally bankrupt that we think it’s okay to steamroll our way to a predefined, elusive ‘success’, losing whatever that is left of our integrity along the way. We don’t even realise that, in our almost indecent hurry to get there, we have effectively eliminated any chance of freeing ourselves from this bondage, this shameless servitude that we have the audacity to call freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I did not contradict myself there. How can you ‘free’ yourself from freedom itself, you ask? The answer is you can’t. Why? Because you’re a slave; a slave to a psycho-physical construct the little red horned guy on your left shoulder wants you to call freedom, freewill, independence, or what-have-you. You’re not free. You never will be. Don’t kid yourself. ‘Freedom’ itself has you on a leash, bound and gagged. And you like it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t get me wrong; this is not paranoia talking. Heck, it’s what I want. How can I be paranoid about something I know I want, nay need? That’s just tosh. And I’m not preaching either; far from it. Why would I want to be a killjoy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point is, no human being on this planet is truly free till he or she has given up his or her quest for freedom. We spend all our lives looking for it; much like the knights of yore who went in search for the mythical white stag; but, unfortunately, few of us will ever find it. Reason being this ‘freedom’ we so desperately crave is, in fact, just another commodity, to put it crudely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mere rhetoric? Hardly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it: you have so many obligations to fulfill, so many goals and expectations to live up to, so much to accomplish that you hardly have the time to do anything else. That is why you have become a slave to the system, as a means of escape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food you eat, the books you read, the music you listen to is all part and parcel of that system. And you, out of sheer helplessness (inadvertently of course) have labeled it freedom. In other words, you have paid for that ‘freedom’. Hence my argument that freedom as we know it is a commodity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that a bad thing, though?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one ever said it was. Our species wouldn’t have come this far without it, and if we were to suddenly change things around (which, by the way, will never happen) we would stop ‘progressing’. We don’t want that now, do we?&lt;br /&gt;Now go slave away please, and don’t forget the ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;______________&lt;br /&gt;The above is something I wrote a few weeks ago as part of work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1005711693496380633?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1005711693496380633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1005711693496380633' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1005711693496380633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1005711693496380633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/freedom.html' title='Freedom?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6531962544692618317</id><published>2009-12-10T16:16:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-10T16:48:01.998+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mysterious lights over Norway: Aliens or failed Russian missile or complete hoax?</title><content type='html'>You be the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lYvM68AtlbA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lYvM68AtlbA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1hrWjkn_DHs&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1hrWjkn_DHs&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6531962544692618317?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6531962544692618317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6531962544692618317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6531962544692618317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6531962544692618317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/mysterious-lights-over-norway-aliens-or.html' title='Mysterious lights over Norway: Aliens or failed Russian missile or complete hoax?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-8096888688396932431</id><published>2009-12-07T17:33:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-11T21:37:18.136+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Dear MR and SF</title><content type='html'>Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Papare Boy, a 25 year old citizen of the country that you both claim to love endlessly. I too love my country endlessly, though probably not the same way you do, but let’s not get into that right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I hear the two of you are running for President and I understand that one of you is already the hot favourite to win the race to the throne while the other is not too far behind, catching up slowly but surely. Good - democracy is not dead yet; not completely, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we go any further, let me tell you a few things about myself. I absolutely loathe politics. Getting into politics in this Paradise Isle, in my humble opinion, is like diving headfirst into a cesspit – if you ever get out alive, you’re going to smell like shit the rest of your life. Excuse my French.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am no peacenik or NGO activist. Nor am I a chest-beating “patriot”. Although I have my reservations about the way you conducted the war (and believe me, I do), I am sincerely thankful for the two of you for putting an end to that three decade old curse. I suppose it was a necessary evil that was required for the greater good. This 65,000 square-kilometre land that all three of us call home is too small, and too precious, to be divided into pieces. So, I say kudos to the both of you on ensuring that our country’s territorial integrity remained intact, against heavy odds – even though it was achieved at a very high cost. My only question is: what next? We won the war, but what have we really done to win the peace? But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you both have children around my age and I’m sure neither of you has forgotten the fact that young people make a sizeable portion of your potential vote banks, which brings me to the point of this letter – what have you two planned to do for the betterment of this country’s youth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As young people of Sri Lanka we are in an unenviable position today. We have no one to guide us when it comes to matters of national importance. We vote for whoever our parents/relatives/peers vote for. An overwhelming majority of us are politically illiterate – including me, unfortunately. For instance, not many of us can say we know what the 17th amendment to the constitution is. Heck, most of us don’t even know if the print on the constitution’s cover is black on white or white on black. This speaks volumes about this country’s future voters. We’re unable to make educated political decisions, an attribute vital for the wellbeing of any democracy. And that is a frightening scenario as I’m sure you’ll agree, considering the pace at which the rest of the world is progressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there’s that little issue with the economy. There are many people my age without proper jobs. By proper jobs I don’t mean the traditional doctor/lawyer/engineer jobs; I mean the kind of jobs that they can actually enjoy doing as opposed to wasting away behind a desk. The jobs are there, but there isn’t enough government backing for such professions and there is little to no school-level encouragement for students to go for fields that are outside the accepted norm. Some are contemplating leaving the country in search of greener pastures, but I know for a fact that most of us would much rather stay here and give back to the country, as unbelievable as that may sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are millions of other issues to be discussed of course, but I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plates already. So, I shall stop my rambling now. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not blaming either of you for any of these problems. But as the next president of this great nation, one of you will have the power to address these issues and really make a difference. What with the end of the war, there is so much potential for us to go to very great heights and I’m sure both of you are equally capable of taking us there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, I shall take my leave with a bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck to you both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May the best man win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours respectfully,&lt;br /&gt;Papare Boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Only one of you can win this race, and I’m sure I’m speaking for 20 million people when I ask you to respect the final result and work together with the victor to bring peace and development to this battered land. Thank you for hearing me out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-8096888688396932431?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8096888688396932431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=8096888688396932431' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8096888688396932431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8096888688396932431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/12/dear-mr-and-sf.html' title='Dear MR and SF'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6508702709807045918</id><published>2009-11-30T14:32:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-30T14:32:33.925+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Oh</title><content type='html'>Who goes there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What bringeth you here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Tis of no concern to you, my love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me, I am but following orders&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Follow your heart instead, beloved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would if I could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must go back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, but not without what I came for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you seek?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you hide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not mine to be given at will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot let you in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You shall not pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m already in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6508702709807045918?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6508702709807045918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6508702709807045918' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6508702709807045918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6508702709807045918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/11/oh.html' title='Oh'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1626952218214071994</id><published>2009-11-27T17:00:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-27T21:12:45.934+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Letter to my 16-year-old self</title><content type='html'>Dear 16-year-old me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How goes it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too well, eh? Your O/Ls are coming up and you haven’t studied shit. Don’t bother starting now – you’re not going to remember anything; you know that. You’re one of those last-minute slackers who won’t be caught dead studying for an exam until you’re left with only three months to go Yes, you’re not going to touch your books till September; mark my words..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry too much, though; you’re going to do just fine. The results won’t be anything spectacular; but at least they won’t make your aunts and uncles wanna disown you – that’s not going to happen for another four years (oops, have I said too much there?) Here’s a teaser: You’re getting ‘A’s for the subjects that matter (five of those) – go figure. But do take your studies a bit more seriously. I can’t tell you right now whether or not you’ll regret your current attitude towards academia and the usefulness of paper qualifications (or the lack of it). I honestly don’t know yet. But the ‘what-if-ness’ of it all is going to haunt you for some time to come. So, be warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s talk about your nonexistent love life now. How’s that girl from Literature class you’ve been eyeing? Yeah, the really cute one. You’re going to ask her out a few months from now. Oh, yes, you are. And she’s going to tell you that she’s already seeing someone. Guess who that someone is?  It’s that slimeball/douchebag/asshole who’s always sweet talking all the girls in class – including the 60-something teacher. But don’t worry; you’ll be over her in no time. And then you’ll move on to bigger and better things – literally (don’t ask). But she too is going to break your heart when you learn that she’s been in a serious relationship for several years. And guess what? Eight years later she’s still seeing that guy. You’re going to be happy for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re not done yet. Two years from now you’re going to fall for yet another girl from that same Lit. class. Don’t ask me who that is. Where’s the fun in that? But seriously, WTF, man? Three girls from the same frickin’ class? What is WRONG with you? Oh, W. T. F. stands for ‘what the fuck, by the way’. It’s… er… ‘netspeak. Never mind. You’ll learn these things soon enough. Anyway, this girl is going to confuse you a little. Not intentionally, though. She’s a complete sweetheart (despite the fact that she’ll be going out with one of your closest friends from school. Yes, yikes! I know). I’m meeting her and another old friend for lunch tomorrow. So, don’t worry. It’s all good. And, yes, you’re going to be over her too – and you’re going to remain friends. Isn’t that great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re probably worried sick right now after reading this. My apologies. Don’t worry, dude. You’re not going to remain single for too long. You’ll find love in the strangest and most amazing places. Yes, plural. Just hang in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be nice to your best friend. I know he seems like a dick at times, but he’s been your best friend since the first day of school and he really cares about you. A few years from now the two of you are going to have a major falling out. He’s going to stop talking to you for some time. It’s only going to be temporary but you WILL miss him a lot – even though you’ll never admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That other old friend I mentioned… the one I’m meeting tomorrow together with your ex-crush… she’s going to be the reason for the fallout, through no fault of her own (you’ll be meeting her next year). She, you and your best friend are going to be really close. Really close. It’s going to be a beautiful (read cheesy) friendship that will last a long time… until another mutual friend from school starts dating her. This is going to piss your best friend off for some reason. He’s going to blame you for it and accuse you of siding with her when she gets tired of arguing with him. You’re going to get caught in the middle. To you, they’ll both be equally important, but life is never fair, and so things will naturally get ugly and that’ll be the end of that dream friendship. You’ll lose them both. But don’t feel too bad. Your best friend will come back, eventually. And you’ll mend fences with the other one, years later. Tomorrow’s meet up has aptly been titled the “Super-awkward-meet-up-2009” by her – wish me luck, by the way, I’m meeting her AND my ex-crush at the same time after a very long time. As for your best friend, he’s in Singapore now. I’m still in touch with him and we’re still good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I bet you’re feeling all dizzy and stuff now after hearing all these bizarre “predictions”. So I’m just gonna bugger off now and leave you dazed and confused – which was kinda what I had in mind when I decided to write to you. I’m masochistic like that. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay….. Adios then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wait… one piece of advice before I go: Don’t ever, I mean EVER get an internet connection. It’s going to destroy you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I kidding? We both know you’re not going to listen to me. Fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours truly,&lt;br /&gt;25-year-old me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse the disjointed, somewhat long-ass post. Kinda got carried away and I AM supposed to be at work after all. -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thanks to Ladida a.k.a. &lt;a href="http://thegutterflower.blogspot.com" target="_blank"&gt;Gutterflower&lt;/a&gt; for the tag. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hereby tag &lt;a href="http://tikakpissu.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Makuluwo&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://chavie101.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Chavie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://chathuraw.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Chathura&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.wwwthedarkasylum.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Nefarious&lt;/a&gt;. Take it away, guys. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1626952218214071994?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1626952218214071994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1626952218214071994' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1626952218214071994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1626952218214071994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/11/letter-to-my-16-year-old-self.html' title='Letter to my 16-year-old self'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2774748066001770710</id><published>2009-11-05T16:31:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-11-27T21:22:02.419+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at fiction writing'/><title type='text'>Work in progress</title><content type='html'>Peter "Gabriel" Abraham picked up his pace. He had no time to lose. It was starting to get dark around him. Clouds had gathered overhead and there was a sense of gloom in the air. A cat meowed in the distance and an old homeless man rummaging through a trashcan paused to have a look at him. The man considered the stranger for a moment and went back to his business, clearly uninterested. The wind was beginning to pick up speed and Peter had to adjust his hat more than once; but he kept on walking. He had less than an hour to complete his task.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had barely walked ten paces down the alley when Peter found himself staring at the dead-end ahead. It was lit by a single Sodium lamp and the light was casting eerie shadows on the brick walls nearby. The sun appeared to have set. Or maybe it was her, thought Peter. He could see there was a figure moving impatiently in the shadows. Lucy had arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re late,” spat Lucy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I got held up,” said Peter nervously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucy stepped closer to him and as the light hit her face Peter could tell she was trying hard to suppress her anger. Brow furrowed and jaws clenched, she had an air of someone ready to kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Tracker gave Peter a piercing stare.  Her cold, dark eyes seemed to bore into his, as if she was trying to read his every thought. It did nothing to improve his nerves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where is it?” she demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Somewhere safe.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Somewhere safe? &lt;i&gt;Somewhere safe?&lt;/i&gt; I thought I told you to bring it to me!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well,” said Peter, still nervous but not giving in, “it’s safer where it is right now. In any case, I couldn’t have removed it even if I wanted to. He wouldn’t have let me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Then you should’ve fought for it, fool,” snapped Lucy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I didn’t want to.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a pause. Peter could hear the distant rumbling of thunder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why ever not?” she asked curtly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I… I’m no match for him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re pathetic,” she spat again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry,” said Peter, and he meant it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re sorry? No, Gabriel, you’re not sorry. Not yet, anyway.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter looked at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kneel!” she commanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter did as he was told. He didn’t know what Lucy was about to do but he hoped and prayed she would be lenient with him. She took his hat and tossed it aside unceremoniously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter watched as it rolled away into a nearby dent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucy put her right hand on his head. Her long, sharp nail dug into his scalp and Peter let out a whimper of pain as she began to draw a line across it. He felt her finger move in the shape of a triangle. Blood started trickling down his hair and Peter watched, horrified, as a big drop of it fell from the tip of his nose to the ground with an audible &lt;i&gt;thwack&lt;/i&gt;. His entire body was shaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Get up,” she barked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2774748066001770710?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2774748066001770710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2774748066001770710' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2774748066001770710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2774748066001770710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/11/work-in-progress.html' title='Work in progress'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3004423542578440338</id><published>2009-09-08T17:42:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-08T17:48:15.726+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>What is love?</title><content type='html'>None of you bastards tagged me in your stupid "♫ What is love, baby, don't hurt me, baby don't hurt me ♫" posts. But Makuluwo and Chavie have left an open tag so... here goes... -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'Love' as we know it is a product manufactured in Hollywood by the media. What we call love is actually affection generated by lust. Love is essentially lust. There's no such thing as 'love at first sight'. It's always LUST at first sight.&lt;br /&gt;Real love is selfless, unconditional and transcends lust and attraction. That kinda love only exists between parents and children.&lt;br /&gt;However, romantic love too can come to that stage, but it takes YEARS to develop. I would say old couples are really "in love". The younger ones are more "in lust".&lt;br /&gt;Just my $0.02."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left the above as a comment on a friend's FB note on the same topic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3004423542578440338?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3004423542578440338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3004423542578440338' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3004423542578440338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3004423542578440338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-is-love.html' title='What is love?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3901317773107506896</id><published>2009-09-06T23:37:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T00:26:55.593+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Sinhala Unicode FTW!</title><content type='html'>අඩෝ, මේක පට්ට ආකල්! Type කරන්න නං ටිකක් අමාරුයි තමයි, හැබැයි පුරුදු වුනහම සිරා. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://colomborantings.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;ඩී සී&lt;/a&gt; ගෙ සිංහල &lt;a href="http://colomborantings.blogspot.com/2009/08/bob-marley.html" target="_blank"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; එකෙන් තමයි idea එක ආවෙ, ඒ වුනා‍ට ලියන්න දෙයක් නැහැනෙ. :S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;නිදිමතයි. මං ගියා.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3901317773107506896?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3901317773107506896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3901317773107506896' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3901317773107506896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3901317773107506896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/09/sinhala-unicode-ftw.html' title='Sinhala Unicode FTW!'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7589505162725066774</id><published>2009-09-04T14:17:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-04T14:19:24.171+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><title type='text'>Good stuff</title><content type='html'>Two of the greatest animated movies ever made. Watch them if you haven't already. They will blow your mind away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spirited Away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6az9wGfeSgM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6az9wGfeSgM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________&lt;br /&gt;Uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/cosmo111687" target="_blank"&gt;cosmo111687&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Princess Mononoke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkWWWKKA8jY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pkWWWKKA8jY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________&lt;br /&gt;Uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/kindredweasel" target="_blank"&gt;kindredweasel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7589505162725066774?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7589505162725066774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7589505162725066774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7589505162725066774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7589505162725066774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-stuff.html' title='Good stuff'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1142281223868378949</id><published>2009-08-31T11:09:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-31T11:30:30.264+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Star Trek'/><title type='text'>Star Trek: The Sexed Generation</title><content type='html'>Two words: fucking hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ReOw_2f4lpY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ReOw_2f4lpY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;Clip created by &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/acornfilms" target="_blank"&gt;acornfilms&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1142281223868378949?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1142281223868378949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1142281223868378949' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1142281223868378949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1142281223868378949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/08/star-trek-sexed-generation_31.html' title='Star Trek: The Sexed Generation'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2174329390832572397</id><published>2009-08-18T00:11:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-18T00:11:44.751+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><title type='text'>Snakes and ladders</title><content type='html'>You slither, you hiss&lt;br /&gt;You embrace, you kiss&lt;br /&gt;I wither, I miss&lt;br /&gt;My disgrace, my bliss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hallows, she mellows&lt;br /&gt;He bellows, she follows&lt;br /&gt;He wallows, she swallows&lt;br /&gt;How hollow, how shallow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch, you mock&lt;br /&gt;The cradle won't rock&lt;br /&gt;They botch, they dock&lt;br /&gt;The ladle won't wok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You slither, and smother&lt;br /&gt;Hither and thither,&lt;br /&gt;I gather their blather&lt;br /&gt;And lather your tether&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2174329390832572397?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2174329390832572397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2174329390832572397' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2174329390832572397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2174329390832572397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/08/snakes-and-ladders.html' title='Snakes and ladders'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3601842429962184607</id><published>2009-08-07T00:07:00.007+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-07T19:40:53.386+05:30</updated><title type='text'>My version of the uh... "trip"</title><content type='html'>In pictures. Can't be arsed to post all the photos here on the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thewhacksterslair.blogspot.com/2009/08/yesterday.html" target="_blank"&gt;Whacko&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://saintfallen.wordpress.com/2009/08/06/the-papare-falls/" target="_blank"&gt;Fallen&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://thejester100.wordpress.com/2009/08/06/the-epic-win-that-was-yesterday/" target="_blank"&gt;Jarry&lt;/a&gt; have already written their detailed (and extremely biased) accounts of yesterday's events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm just gonna lay it bare graphically. Pictures don't lie, do they? :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click here if you're interested. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3601842429962184607?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3601842429962184607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3601842429962184607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3601842429962184607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3601842429962184607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-version-of-uh-trip.html' title='My version of the uh... &quot;trip&quot;'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-251112481231037802</id><published>2009-08-04T01:11:00.012+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T12:11:22.111+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bikes'/><title type='text'>Katukurunda Races</title><content type='html'>Shot with a Canon 350d with a 18-55 lens with the WRONG setting! :|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camera courtesy friend and photographer &lt;a href="http://dilesh.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Dilesh Weerasuriya&lt;/a&gt;. Click &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/dileshw/" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for his Flickr photostream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBziwPzGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lK6RMGY6LEw/s1600-h/IMG_0767.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBziwPzGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lK6RMGY6LEw/s400/IMG_0767.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829834793536610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBzScuq0I/AAAAAAAAAGE/s9WyZrP6j50/s1600-h/IMG_0760.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBzScuq0I/AAAAAAAAAGE/s9WyZrP6j50/s400/IMG_0760.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829830416706370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBywD2XiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-q6P6x9T9cY/s1600-h/IMG_0735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 243px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBywD2XiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-q6P6x9T9cY/s400/IMG_0735.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829821185547810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBOUFFnzI/AAAAAAAAAF0/bRa5Xyj8pwg/s1600-h/IMG_0731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 203px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBOUFFnzI/AAAAAAAAAF0/bRa5Xyj8pwg/s400/IMG_0731.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829195199258418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBOJvaxqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/EKrhVfvVDS8/s1600-h/IMG_0724.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBOJvaxqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/EKrhVfvVDS8/s400/IMG_0724.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829192424015522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBN8BCckI/AAAAAAAAAFk/wYij4ix1Bvo/s1600-h/IMG_0715.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBN8BCckI/AAAAAAAAAFk/wYij4ix1Bvo/s400/IMG_0715.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829188739822146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBNgSTdyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/g0C9EGMf-Wo/s1600-h/IMG_0700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBNgSTdyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/g0C9EGMf-Wo/s400/IMG_0700.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829181296047906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBNe4C-DI/AAAAAAAAAFU/xsqFEl9RXFw/s1600-h/IMG_0682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 244px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBNe4C-DI/AAAAAAAAAFU/xsqFEl9RXFw/s400/IMG_0682.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365829180917479474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAye2nYPI/AAAAAAAAAFM/VRH8foA3Hlc/s1600-h/IMG_0656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAye2nYPI/AAAAAAAAAFM/VRH8foA3Hlc/s400/IMG_0656.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828717055009010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAyJH_t-I/AAAAAAAAAFE/zvJMsgDeuKU/s1600-h/IMG_0655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 203px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAyJH_t-I/AAAAAAAAAFE/zvJMsgDeuKU/s400/IMG_0655.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828711222327266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxyrHt7I/AAAAAAAAAE8/ElPIFyYe7fk/s1600-h/IMG_0652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxyrHt7I/AAAAAAAAAE8/ElPIFyYe7fk/s400/IMG_0652.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828705195636658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxpf1fUI/AAAAAAAAAE0/58hekFPBKzw/s1600-h/IMG_0651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxpf1fUI/AAAAAAAAAE0/58hekFPBKzw/s400/IMG_0651.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828702732385602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxek-HrI/AAAAAAAAAEs/YD6bmTsaMDY/s1600-h/IMG_0631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndAxek-HrI/AAAAAAAAAEs/YD6bmTsaMDY/s400/IMG_0631.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828699801132722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_9btSQ2I/AAAAAAAAAEk/RGqBBnH4MbY/s1600-h/IMG_0590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 193px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_9btSQ2I/AAAAAAAAAEk/RGqBBnH4MbY/s400/IMG_0590.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827805677503330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_9N1x9sI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ou-OuaWHxDc/s1600-h/IMG_0586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 220px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_9N1x9sI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ou-OuaWHxDc/s400/IMG_0586.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827801955038914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8-crMbI/AAAAAAAAAEU/2UXuhnrXMtg/s1600-h/IMG_0563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8-crMbI/AAAAAAAAAEU/2UXuhnrXMtg/s400/IMG_0563.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827797823205810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8nd-L-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/3umGi5ZDtPU/s1600-h/IMG_0560.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8nd-L-I/AAAAAAAAAEM/3umGi5ZDtPU/s400/IMG_0560.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827791654629346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8Ypy6CI/AAAAAAAAAEE/GqTu0qeoxnY/s1600-h/IMG_0529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_8Ypy6CI/AAAAAAAAAEE/GqTu0qeoxnY/s400/IMG_0529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827787677689890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_hKSe2vI/AAAAAAAAAD8/3R3_djyAsY4/s1600-h/IMG_0478.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_hKSe2vI/AAAAAAAAAD8/3R3_djyAsY4/s400/IMG_0478.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827319965342450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_hAN7QDI/AAAAAAAAAD0/izzL6cwf9XM/s1600-h/IMG_0465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 328px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_hAN7QDI/AAAAAAAAAD0/izzL6cwf9XM/s400/IMG_0465.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827317261877298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_g5zBFlI/AAAAAAAAADs/FZTyt4vsNm4/s1600-h/IMG_0452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 181px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_g5zBFlI/AAAAAAAAADs/FZTyt4vsNm4/s400/IMG_0452.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827315538400850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_gVK3c5I/AAAAAAAAADk/vieiBoSfu9I/s1600-h/IMG_0450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_gVK3c5I/AAAAAAAAADk/vieiBoSfu9I/s400/IMG_0450.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827305706320786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_gKfREBI/AAAAAAAAADc/w1ReUIELshY/s1600-h/DSC_0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc_gKfREBI/AAAAAAAAADc/w1ReUIELshY/s400/DSC_0453.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365827302839095314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc-_6fw4II/AAAAAAAAADU/Mj2TsymgMF8/s1600-h/DSC_0443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 187px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc-_6fw4II/AAAAAAAAADU/Mj2TsymgMF8/s400/DSC_0443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365826748790399106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try 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href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc-_IjlQHI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JDp79turpp4/s1600-h/DSC_0101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc-_IjlQHI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JDp79turpp4/s400/DSC_0101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365826735384641650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc--204NRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/JSqd9VEXLY4/s1600-h/DSC_0099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Snc--204NRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/JSqd9VEXLY4/s400/DSC_0099.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365826730625348882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-251112481231037802?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/251112481231037802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=251112481231037802' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/251112481231037802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/251112481231037802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/08/katukurunda-races.html' title='Katukurunda Races'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SndBziwPzGI/AAAAAAAAAGM/lK6RMGY6LEw/s72-c/IMG_0767.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-4419583489923877613</id><published>2009-07-25T01:56:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T13:47:34.917+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Shall I compare thee to a winter's day?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;With apologies to Mr. William Shakespeare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall I compare thee to a winter's day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thou art more cold and maketh me desperate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hailstorms deter not the lone wolf on its way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And winter's lease leaveth no room for hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes too deep run the crevices of lust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oft is its crimson complexion dimm'd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no fair from fair will ever rust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By chance nor nature's changing course untrimm'd:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thy eternal winter shall not fade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor lose possession of that poison that thou owest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Death himself is but thyself slowest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In other words, I'm crazy about you when I know I shouldn't be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-4419583489923877613?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4419583489923877613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=4419583489923877613' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4419583489923877613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4419583489923877613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/07/shall-i-compare-thee-to-winters-day.html' title='Shall I compare thee to a winter&apos;s day?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7305608597052372246</id><published>2009-07-14T21:47:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:04:05.679+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Doomsday? Really?</title><content type='html'>Apparently the world is going to go kaboom on December 21 (or 23, depending on who you ask), 2012 (conveniently a few weeks after the US elections).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believers will tell you this is because the last day of the Mayan &lt;br /&gt;Calendar falls on this date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As absurd as this... uh... "prediction" sounds, there are people out there who seem to be taking it very, very seriously. Just do a random search for 2012 and you'll see what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if the world as we know it is really going to end in another three years, WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO DO TO SAVE OUR ASSES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I'm not saying I believe this stuff. It may or may not happen. It could happen in 2012 or even 3012. Point is is we just don't fucking know! Heck, it could happen even TOMORROW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have we, as a world, and as a species done to prepare for such an eventuality?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much obviously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully at least  this (KICK ASS) movie will wake us up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hz86TsGx3fc" target="_blank"&gt;2012&lt;/a&gt; by disaster movie pro Roland Emmerich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepare to drool. It looks fuckin' amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7305608597052372246?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7305608597052372246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7305608597052372246' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7305608597052372246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7305608597052372246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/07/doomsday-really.html' title='Doomsday? Really?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7362476323447489814</id><published>2009-06-26T11:43:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-27T22:07:55.063+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><title type='text'>To the King of Pop...</title><content type='html'>Dear Michael Jackson,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke up to the news that you are no more. I didn't know what to think. I still don't. I did not want to believe it. How could you, a king in every sense of the word, be dead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it seems that you are, and that saddens me to no end. Like millions of others across the globe, I grew up listening to you and idolising you. I know the words to every single one of your hits. I have seen every single one of your music videos, hundreds of times, seen most of your concerts on VHS and later on on DVD. Over the years, I've tried to emulate you, to copy your innovative dance moves, especially your signature moonwalk. Tried and failed miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me it didn't matter if you were "black or white"; you were a living legend. You were an awe inspiring performer and an entertainer extradionaire. Your career was a "thriller" to your loyal fans. When controversy was threatening to turn you into a "stranger in Moscow" you told your critics to "beat it" in your own quiet, soft-spoken way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're truly a king. Every man, woman and child on Earth knows your name. There are millions who'd give anything to see you perform live. It's always been one of my biggest dreams to see you on stage, but I guess that dream will never come true now. But no matter. You have given me enough to be thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace, your majesty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7362476323447489814?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7362476323447489814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7362476323447489814' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7362476323447489814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7362476323447489814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-king-of-pop_26.html' title='To the King of Pop...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3004698820203154105</id><published>2009-06-21T22:41:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:04:58.585+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sanga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><title type='text'>We didn't lose</title><content type='html'>:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the 2007 World Cup all over again. Reach the finals undefeated only to lose heartbreakingly. :|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no matter. We gave a good fight. And we won every single game that led to the finals. Congrats to Sanga and the entire team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dilshan, Mendis, Malinga, Mathew, Sanath, Murali, Mahela, Mubarak, Udana, Chamara, Kulasekara... well done, boys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA - Sanga thanked the spectators in Sinhala! Fuckin' AWESOME! Didn't see that one coming. I'm not sad about losing anymore. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3004698820203154105?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3004698820203154105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3004698820203154105' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3004698820203154105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3004698820203154105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-didnt-lose.html' title='We didn&apos;t lose'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2719704130427595710</id><published>2009-06-09T01:35:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:06:11.922+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><title type='text'>WE WON!</title><content type='html'>Man, that felt &lt;i&gt;good&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we wait...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2719704130427595710?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2719704130427595710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2719704130427595710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2719704130427595710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2719704130427595710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-won.html' title='WE WON!'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1707457225153194782</id><published>2009-06-05T01:40:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-05T01:58:52.579+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>These trolls...</title><content type='html'>I happen to like trolls. Including, but not limited to, &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/yourblogsucks" target="_blank"&gt;the ones&lt;/a&gt; that trash &lt;a href="http://padashow.wordpress.com/2009/06/03/and-while-we-wait-for-nb-to-respond/" target="_blank"&gt;me&lt;/a&gt;.:p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't get why everyone's so worked up about this. Why is everyone suddenly all up in arms about the whole thing? So they make fun of us. So what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's humour. A tad tasteless and crude, yes, but it's humour nonetheless. Lighten up already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1707457225153194782?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1707457225153194782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1707457225153194782' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1707457225153194782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1707457225153194782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/06/these-trolls.html' title='These trolls...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-798350641039558996</id><published>2009-06-02T21:22:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-02T21:27:29.031+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Am I in deep shit?</title><content type='html'>A little over a month ago yours-truly quit his permanent job at the [arguably] safe, old, comfortable weekend newspaper and stepped into the murky world of advertising. Still not sure if it was a wise decision on my part, but then it's only been four weeks, so I guess a fair assessment is not possible at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my work there were met with positive enthusiasm by Palpatine himself, some didn't make it past Lord Vader's usually generous lightsaber (it really is a lightsaber... don't ask). I suppose only time will tell whether I made the right choice or not. But right now the prospects aren't looking that good, and something tells me the force isn't that strong with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, at least I'm getting paid. For now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-798350641039558996?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/798350641039558996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=798350641039558996' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/798350641039558996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/798350641039558996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/06/am-i-in-deep-shit_2592.html' title='Am I in deep shit?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1153473808552425925</id><published>2009-06-02T01:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-06-02T21:21:41.805+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><title type='text'>The politics of language</title><content type='html'>A &lt;a href="http://messiahofmadness.wordpress.com/2009/05/31/tag-thread/" target="_blank"&gt;retrospective post&lt;/a&gt; on the current situation in Sri Lanka by &lt;a href="http://messiahofmadness.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;The Puppeteer&lt;/a&gt; got me thinking yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Being part of a minority within a minority, I don’t think Sri Lanka has fully accepted us as a part of the nation. Recently, attempts have been made- my community was wedged into the President’s post LTTE speech, it’s been included in newspaper articles as well as the government registration website. However, it would seem that the President hasn’t quite wrapped his head around who we are and how we configure in the scheme of races in the island. &lt;b&gt;Where I’m going with this is simply that I was never made to feel as though I belonged here. While I adore Sri Lanka there’s still a certain degree of detachment I apperceive from the people here&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Emphasis mine).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hardly an expert on matters relating to ethnicity, but it is my personal belief that this "degree of detachment" minorities apperceive from the majority community (in any nation state home to diverse "races", and not just Sri Lanka), as I said in a comment I made on her post, is mainly due to the language barrier that exists between the different communities more than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm aware that The Puppeteer is only referring to her community in her post and is not speaking for the other minorities here, but it's a safe bet that a lot of people from those communities also feel the same way. This is in no way a rebuttal to her post or an attempt to state that Sri Lanka is completely devoid of racism. The latter would be naivety at best and complete BS at worst. However, I do feel the need to say that not everyone in our country is a racist and I truly believe that language really is a big part of the solution to this "problem" (for the lack of a better word).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sense of belonging The Puppeteer alludes to in her post is a very human emotion, something that we all crave for regardless of race, creed, religion and other worldly differences. Nobody likes to feel left out. Nobody likes to be intimidated by a person with a stronger arm than their own. The same applies to all the "groups" that we have divided ourselves into along lines of race, caste, religion, etc.,etc. One group does not want to be overshadowed/ignored/looked down upon by another, especially when it lacks the numbers of the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, unfortunately, realpolitik demands that that be the case. There will always be differences. There will always be clashes of opinion and conflicts of interest. The point is to say "screw that" and just get along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easier said than done of course, because, in order to 'get along', the different groups need to be able to communicate with each other. And the only viable form of communication that will serve this purpose is speech/conversation. And that requires an understanding of each groups's language or at least a language common to all groups. This is where English comes in to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it. Those of us (from different communities) who speak any English "get along" well because it is a language that we all understand. The place I used to work where The Puppeteer is still employed at is an office full of people from all the major and minor ethnic and religious groups from Sri Lanka. But our differences were hardly noticeable because all of us spoke the same language and could see where everyone was coming from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When talking to another person from a community outside of your own in a language spoken and understood by both, the factors that make you 'different' from each other tend to go unnoticed. Even if they are not fully ignored, you learn not to care about such trivialities as you go along, and these differences become part of who the other person is, a part of what makes them interesting and appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is that when you're able to communicate with someone who doesn't "belong to" your social subset you realise that theirs is not that alien to your own. They just speak a different language, practice a different religion, have a different skin colour, etc., but in every other aspect, they're no more different from you than a dog with brown spots is different from a dog with black spots; they're still canine and they still bark, and we're still human... and we all talk; it's just that we, unlike dogs, just happen to speak different languages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If &lt;i&gt;we&lt;/i&gt; (the youth with a means of communication with those from other communities) are capable of such peaceful coexistence who is to say that the rest of the country would be any different if they were given a chance to learn the same?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sri Lanka is not the racist, chauvinistic nation the Western media makes it out to be. An overwhelming majority of our people really do want our different ethnic groups to coexist; even the masses that supported the war. The problem lies in reaching out to them, the minorities. We get stuck when we attempt to do that, because we _just_don't_ speak their language, and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything that can be done about this? I suppose making it compulsory for children to learn the three main languages at school level is a start. But it must be done in such a way that it will not make them feel as though they're being forced to learn a language they won't otherwise speak outside the school premises. And it must also not be seen as an attempt to suppress the importance of the language of the majority community. It is up to our policy makers to come up with a strategy to tackle this problem without hurting the sensitivities of the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This however is a formidable task, and we as responsible citizens cannot and must not expect the government in power to do all the work for us. We have to make a sincere effort in trying to understand what Saman, Kumar, David, Ahmed, Nimali, Kumari, Mary and Fathima are trying to tell us. It is only then that the fruits of a war free Sri Lankan can truly be enjoyed by all its citizens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping that a lasting peace will not remain the pipe dream it once was. Viva Sri Lanka!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1153473808552425925?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1153473808552425925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1153473808552425925' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1153473808552425925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1153473808552425925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/05/politics-of-language.html' title='The politics of language'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2875176846559686821</id><published>2009-05-30T20:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-05-30T22:18:34.805+05:30</updated><title type='text'>This tagging business...</title><content type='html'>I've been &lt;a href="http://not-so-pseudorandom.blogspot.com/2009/05/lankan-tag-o-rama.html" target="_blank"&gt;tagged&lt;/a&gt;, by none other than the illustrious &lt;a href="http://not-so-pseudorandom.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;PseudoRandom&lt;/a&gt; herself... because... apparently...  I've "not been blogging recently and this is supposed to be a kick up the backside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really a big fan of this kinda thing (tagging/chain letter sorta stuff), but right now, I'm not complaining cuz it feels good to be kicked in the rear by someone as delightful as Ms. Random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here are the so called "rules" written by God-knows-who:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You write five words to describe how you feel about recent events in Sri Lanka.&lt;br /&gt;You tag five bloggers.&lt;br /&gt;You sit back and relax.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My five words are...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Shock&lt;br /&gt;2. Fear&lt;br /&gt;3. Sadness&lt;br /&gt;4. Relief&lt;br /&gt;5. Hope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got no one to tag cuz all the bloggers I follow have already been tagged, so I'm gonna tag the trolls instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/yourblogsucks" target="_blank"&gt;Your Blog Sucks&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://maharajahofbad.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;The Maharajah of Bad&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://padashow.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Padashow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/swucker" target="_blank"&gt;Suck My Tweet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://stabmewithaspoon.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;HH Zoltan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2875176846559686821?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2875176846559686821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2875176846559686821' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2875176846559686821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2875176846559686821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-tagging-business.html' title='This tagging business...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3235264647450899301</id><published>2009-05-05T10:13:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:07:06.324+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at photography'/><title type='text'>Attempts at photography</title><content type='html'>All taken with my humble point-and-shoot. And I'm stil learning. Don't judge me. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_IvzqOnYI/AAAAAAAAACs/XRGeaXyl2y4/s1600-h/2848_181450105170_586790170_6495151_6233969_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 227px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_IvzqOnYI/AAAAAAAAACs/XRGeaXyl2y4/s400/2848_181450105170_586790170_6495151_6233969_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332201207476690306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EyAKTWFI/AAAAAAAAACk/guAmowWNGQo/s1600-h/n586790170_1183385_235.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EyAKTWFI/AAAAAAAAACk/guAmowWNGQo/s400/n586790170_1183385_235.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196847145670738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_Er0O4IWI/AAAAAAAAACc/FWqmV3exQWU/s1600-h/2848_181450150170_586790170_6495160_1156242_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_Er0O4IWI/AAAAAAAAACc/FWqmV3exQWU/s400/2848_181450150170_586790170_6495160_1156242_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196740864418146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_En-nIfWI/AAAAAAAAACU/G9trudLQOJc/s1600-h/2848_181450140170_586790170_6495158_1423395_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_En-nIfWI/AAAAAAAAACU/G9trudLQOJc/s400/2848_181450140170_586790170_6495158_1423395_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196674931031394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EiVCh5EI/AAAAAAAAACM/Xia8CInXDjs/s1600-h/n586790170_4279877_9154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EiVCh5EI/AAAAAAAAACM/Xia8CInXDjs/s400/n586790170_4279877_9154.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196577872307266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_Eabu8oYI/AAAAAAAAACE/VX5JRY89K6A/s1600-h/n586790170_3216524_1086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_Eabu8oYI/AAAAAAAAACE/VX5JRY89K6A/s400/n586790170_3216524_1086.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196442230268290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EULjaCuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ErudNzmerCU/s1600-h/2848_181450240170_586790170_6495177_5787766_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EULjaCuI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ErudNzmerCU/s400/2848_181450240170_586790170_6495177_5787766_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196334807681762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EMiNA3qI/AAAAAAAAAB0/hCovelxP_l8/s1600-h/2848_181450175170_586790170_6495165_7881774_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EMiNA3qI/AAAAAAAAAB0/hCovelxP_l8/s400/2848_181450175170_586790170_6495165_7881774_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196203448819362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EH7j3b5I/AAAAAAAAABs/ROqwvbdLPIA/s1600-h/n586790170_1183402_9015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_EH7j3b5I/AAAAAAAAABs/ROqwvbdLPIA/s400/n586790170_1183402_9015.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332196124356210578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3235264647450899301?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3235264647450899301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3235264647450899301' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3235264647450899301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3235264647450899301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/05/attempts-at-photography.html' title='Attempts at photography'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sf_IvzqOnYI/AAAAAAAAACs/XRGeaXyl2y4/s72-c/2848_181450105170_586790170_6495151_6233969_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6274568230650727342</id><published>2009-04-23T23:39:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-23T23:51:03.866+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Hooked on Twitter</title><content type='html'>I'm hooked. It's like a drug now. I'm so hooked I can't even blog anymore. HELP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That aside, &lt;a href="http://chavie101.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Chavie101&lt;/a&gt; dug &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_bljSRIcxM" target="_blank"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; up on YouTube recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the nostalgia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6274568230650727342?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6274568230650727342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6274568230650727342' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6274568230650727342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6274568230650727342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/04/hooked-on-twitter.html' title='Hooked on Twitter'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-839203562284434990</id><published>2009-04-15T22:58:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:24:55.263+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry</title><content type='html'>I seem to have made the Top Five Posts list on Kottu this week... for the wrong reasons. I'm not going to explain myself or anything here, but suffice to say that I'm not proud of what I wrote, and so, I deleted the effin thing. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, no, I didn't write it for the attention either. I was pissed out of my mind, and I needed to let it out. I felt betrayed, used, and unceremoniously discarded over something "better"... all at the same time... by someone I was prepared to do anything for. I was pushed, nay shoved, over the edge. And quite deliberately so. So I do believe my anger was more than justified. But still, I don't think I should've written it the way I did. That's just stooping to the level of the said post's subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry if I sound like a self righteous bitch and a drama queen all rolled into one, but I'm sincerely sorry I wrote that "thing" and I've got to say it (that I'm not proud of it) one way or the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's a done deal now. Time for me to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-839203562284434990?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/839203562284434990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=839203562284434990' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/839203562284434990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/839203562284434990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7074719760785430185</id><published>2009-04-02T01:01:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-04-02T01:05:02.419+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Public Service Announcement</title><content type='html'>Someone I know is flooding everyone's blog with comments pretending to be me. Please watch out. Any comment from "Paparé Boy" (with or without the accented é) that professes my undying love to you or one that tells you to shut the fuck up or anything else of an equally dubious nature is NOT FROM ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7074719760785430185?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7074719760785430185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7074719760785430185' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7074719760785430185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7074719760785430185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/04/public-service-announcement.html' title='Public Service Announcement'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7864810516527974767</id><published>2009-03-31T21:13:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:08:08.850+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love is...</title><content type='html'>An illusion... for it's a mere magic trick played on the weak and gullible &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mirage... for it's something that is really not there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lie... for no one really means it when they say 'I love you'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A trap... for it ensnares the senses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A book... that no one will ever finish reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A puzzle... that no one has yet solved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A riddle... that no one will ever figure out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quagmire... that no one will ever get out of alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dagger... that can kill you in an instant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A poison... that can kill you slowly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bullet... that can pierce your heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sword... that can sever your head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A load of crap, that we all so desperately crave for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A weapon... of mass destruction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finito&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7864810516527974767?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7864810516527974767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7864810516527974767' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7864810516527974767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7864810516527974767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/love-is.html' title='Love is...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5116182499785515788</id><published>2009-03-20T19:58:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-20T22:10:00.068+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I'm still straight and I'm still Paparé BOY, thank you very much</title><content type='html'>Everyone, please ignore the previous post. As you can see, it was obviously not written by yours truly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the handy work of an overly bored &lt;a href="http://messiahofmadness.wordpress.com" target="_blank"&gt;messiahofmadness&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://queenofdreams.wordpress.com" target="_blank"&gt;tulie&lt;/a&gt;, who thought they'd have a good laugh at my expense while I was looking the other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, we all work at the same office and I just happened to be away from the PC for a little bit, when these two &lt;s&gt;jobless peabrains&lt;/s&gt; classy ladies saw that I'd left my blog open and, worse, signed in, and decided to make a little tea party of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And later, halfway into their post, I saw what they were up to, tried to confront them, and gave up. Thought I'd let them have their fun, the poor souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the post is on Kottu now. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd delete it, but being the &lt;s&gt;attention seeking prat&lt;/s&gt; nice guy that I am, I think I'm gonna leave it be. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited to add: I'm so &lt;s&gt;over enthusiastic&lt;/s&gt; excited about finally being able to use the strike/scratch tag. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5116182499785515788?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5116182499785515788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5116182499785515788' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5116182499785515788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5116182499785515788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-still-straight-and-im-still-papare.html' title='I&apos;m still straight and I&apos;m still Paparé BOY, thank you very much'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5088584121875743620</id><published>2009-03-20T18:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-20T19:32:26.751+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Considering Transgender operation</title><content type='html'>I always thought I was straight all this time, seriously, but that was before I attended open mic last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many HAWT Guys. I have always had this habit of checking out guys but I didn't realize the implications until now. I never believed in Love at First Sight either, BUT THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell in Love - Instantaneous, utterly and completely - with a guy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do, I have to cope with my newly discovered sexual inclination as well cope with my new found love. But it's a wonderful feeling - I AM IN LOOOOVVVVEEE! YAAAAAYYY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends tell me that it was just the arrack mallum having a perverse effect on me. But it's not, this is the real deal, I felt all the things the poets wax lyrical about, the tingling, the high, the bells ringing, I felt it all I tell you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's when I hit upon the idea for a sex change operation. My one true love is straight, he will never have anything to do with me as a guy so.... The depth of my love is such that I am going to turn myself into the girl of his dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh!!! His Mahagony coloured skin glowed in the dark. His T-shirt clung sexily to his amazing physique. Ok,I know not everyone will think so but to me, he was perfection!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...Here I am at a turning point in my life after attending open mic (I never had any inkling when I set out so carefreely, last night that THIS would happen - who would have thought?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my dream guy, I know you'll read this even though you'll never guess it's dedicated to you - Look out for a sexy, hot chick who's going to crash into your life soon - Papare Boy is about to turn into Papare Girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5088584121875743620?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5088584121875743620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5088584121875743620' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5088584121875743620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5088584121875743620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/considering-transgender-operation.html' title='Considering Transgender operation'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7966746615871202105</id><published>2009-03-18T00:42:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:08:51.580+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>The songs that turn us on</title><content type='html'>OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.. er... I'm back... If you noticed that I'd disappeared, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... um... yeah, the plan is to start blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh fuck it. Yes, I'm back. The shit that caused me to become all melodramatic and take a sudden break from blogging has, by no means, disappeared, but I figured that quitting blogging (that sounds HORRIBLY sing-song by the way) was not going to make matters any better, and so, here I am, back in business. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks a lot to everyone who commented on my previous post, to &lt;a href="http://vileness.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;goddessofvileness&lt;/a&gt; who convinced me to start again, and to &lt;a href="http://themissingsandwich.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;The Missing Sandwich&lt;/a&gt; who took the time and effort to actually send me a mail and cheer me up; ME- an anonymous blogger she's never even met. (That was very sweet of you, TMS). :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also to &lt;a href="http://messiahofmadness.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;messiahofmadness&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://queenofdreams.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"&gt;tulie&lt;/a&gt; for doing the same in their own unique way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks a mil, guys. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. Now that the cheese is out of the way, let's get back on topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been annoying my friends lately, asking them to send me lists of songs that they find 'sexy' (for the lack of a better word). I'm trying to compile a Top 10 and so far I've been told that the following songs make some of my friends feel all hot and sweaty. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye&lt;br /&gt;You Sexy Thing - Hot Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;Layla - Eric Clapton&lt;br /&gt;Skin To Skin - Harry Belafonte&lt;br /&gt;Smooth - Carlos Santa ft. Rob Thomas&lt;br /&gt;All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You - Heart&lt;br /&gt;I've Got You Under My Skin - Frank Sinatra ft. Bono&lt;br /&gt;All I Want Is You - U2&lt;br /&gt;Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me - U2&lt;br /&gt;Fire - Babyface &amp; Desree&lt;br /&gt;Push it Push it - Inner Circle&lt;br /&gt;Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye&lt;br /&gt;"Any Barry White song" (apparently)&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Child of Mine and November Rain - Guns 'n' Roses&lt;br /&gt;Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen&lt;br /&gt;I am Sailing - Rod Stewart&lt;br /&gt;Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis&lt;br /&gt;Imagine and Let it Be - Beatles&lt;br /&gt;Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones&lt;br /&gt;Hallowed Be Thy Name - Iron Maiden&lt;br /&gt;Number of the beast - Iron Maiden&lt;br /&gt;Breaking the law -  Judas Priest&lt;br /&gt;Highway to hell - AC/DC&lt;br /&gt;TNT - AC/DC&lt;br /&gt;Stuff - Blank Sabath&lt;br /&gt;Stuff - Disturbed&lt;br /&gt;Goofy Goober - Spongebob (don't ask)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. Some very different genres there. Anyone care to help a dude out? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7966746615871202105?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7966746615871202105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7966746615871202105' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7966746615871202105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7966746615871202105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/songs-that-turn-us-on.html' title='The songs that turn us on'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-829573949709762315</id><published>2009-03-08T02:25:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-08T02:41:09.208+05:30</updated><title type='text'>This is it</title><content type='html'>I'm depressed. I don't think I've been this depressed in a very long time. I don't like to write personal shit, and I'm not gonna do that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to go away. And that's what I'm going to do now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might come back... if I feel like it. But somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen. I think I've hit an all time low this time around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know I probably sound like a drama queen. Well, quite frankly, I don't give a rat's ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-829573949709762315?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/829573949709762315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=829573949709762315' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/829573949709762315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/829573949709762315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-it.html' title='This is it'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-8109452805260801890</id><published>2009-03-06T21:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-06T21:35:58.930+05:30</updated><title type='text'>See? (Part II)</title><content type='html'>No, you don't see it. You'll never see what I see in you the way I see it. Even if you did see it, you wouldn't get it. And we both know why, don't we? Although, I'm pretty sure you have no idea what on Earth I'm talking about. Heck, I doubt you even realise it's YOU that I'm talking to here. Why would you? All you see is what you want to see. That's all that you seem to have eyes for, and not for what you ought to see. Well guess what? I don't want to be what you ought to see. I want to be what you want to see. But I know I'll never be that. So I'm gonna bugger off now, because if and when you eventually do see me, I don't want to be blocking your view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________&lt;br /&gt;Why, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;I'd much rather see you smile, even if it's not me that you're smiling at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to the four people who know my real name - The above (and the previous post) is pure fiction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-8109452805260801890?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8109452805260801890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=8109452805260801890' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8109452805260801890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8109452805260801890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/see-part-ii.html' title='See? (Part II)'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-8009520797467392907</id><published>2009-03-06T00:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-06T01:10:07.961+05:30</updated><title type='text'>See?</title><content type='html'>I wish you could see what I see in you the way I see it, but I know you won't see it since we don't see what's right in front of us when we're so blinded by the glow of what we want to see and not what we ought to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now do you see what I see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I tried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-8009520797467392907?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8009520797467392907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=8009520797467392907' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8009520797467392907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8009520797467392907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/see.html' title='See?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1221292579941278076</id><published>2009-03-03T20:05:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:13:04.533+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Attempts at poetry'/><title type='text'>The Watchmaker</title><content type='html'>He sits in silence bent over his desk…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He watches his watch dying a slow agonising death…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows what he is… a surgeon…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A life saver… he must do this; it is no burden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wears no mask, he fears nothing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For he is always certain he knows what’s coming…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picks his tools, and shifts on his stool…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And imagines himself drowning in a pool…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wiping the sweat off of his tired face…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wearily looks at the finish line of the race…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s not that far, he knows he can make it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for how long does he think he can fake it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;OK, I admit. Poetry is not my strong point. This is just something I wrote over a year ago. It's... weird, to say the least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1221292579941278076?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1221292579941278076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1221292579941278076' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1221292579941278076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1221292579941278076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/watchmaker.html' title='The Watchmaker'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-2401450030146224973</id><published>2009-03-02T23:02:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-03-03T20:29:39.600+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>How do we know Humpty Dumpty was an egg?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sa1FeN0Ro1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/4EUN0dbZfNI/s1600-h/HumptyDumpty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 233px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sa1FeN0Ro1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/4EUN0dbZfNI/s320/HumptyDumpty.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308975921146995538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Age old question, I know. But seriously, why is Humpty always depicted as an egg? Nowhere in the rhyme is it mentioned that the little bugger was an egg. In fact, it doesn't say what he was at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall&lt;br /&gt;    Humpty Dumpty had a great fall&lt;br /&gt;    All the king's horses and all the king's men&lt;br /&gt;    Couldn't put Humpty together again &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all the kings men and all the kings horses couldn't put him back together again? So what? Doesn't mean he had to have been an EGG. Why couldn't he have been... made of porcelain or something? Why an egg (of all things)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________&lt;br /&gt;Bored. Nothing better to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Image courtesy &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-2401450030146224973?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/2401450030146224973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=2401450030146224973' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2401450030146224973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/2401450030146224973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/03/how-do-we-know-humpty-dumpty-was-egg.html' title='How do we know Humpty Dumpty was an egg?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sa1FeN0Ro1I/AAAAAAAAAA0/4EUN0dbZfNI/s72-c/HumptyDumpty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-4396854702347944410</id><published>2009-02-28T23:30:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2009-12-15T10:31:53.722+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Birthday blues</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's my birthday today. It will end in a few minutes. It's almost midnight now. And guess where I am right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. I'm at work. On Saturday. My birthday. More than half of it spent right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, here I am, sitting in front of the only PC at office that doesn't have access blocked to half the world wide web (including the Proxy sites), writing this blog post, because I have nothing better to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, it gets worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got two passes for the Lite FM Flashback party safely tucked away in my bag right now, each worth a whopping thousand bucks and probably wondering what the fuck they're still doing in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my friend tells me the party is in full swing. She wants to know why I'm not there partying the night away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what really sucks, man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's MY fault that I'm not there right now having a ball as I know I fuckin' should be, and I'm here instead, whining and complaining and boring you with this rather tedious read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I have no one but myself to blame for my current predicament. Here's why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not dressed for a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As shallow and superficial as that may sound, I can't be seen at a party wearing what I'm wearing right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's common practice here at my work place for employees to dress down on Saturdays (and by down I mean &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; down). You could say it's an unwritten law of sorts. And I, assuming that I wasn't going for this party tonight because one of my friends who was supposed to join us had dropped out at the last minute, decided I wasn't going to break the rules today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don't give a flying fuck about what others think of me, but if only I had the sense to wear something nice or at the very least, to bring a change of clothes to work, I wouldn't be here right now writing this shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were in decent clothing today, I could've easily thrown my stock excuse of "family dinner" at my boss and he would've let me go, no questions asked, just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I couldn't care less about what others think of my appearance but a guy's gotta look socially acceptable at least on his birthday, yeah? I mean, I don't mean to sound gay or anything (no offence to anyone) but I'm just not properly attired for a party tonight. To be blunt, I just look plain shabby right now. I do realise that sounds incredibly shallow on my part, but you'd understand if the shit you were in was similar in depth to that of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, I &lt;i&gt;am&lt;/i&gt; in deep shit at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ex girlfriend thinks I deserve what I got and is threatening to cut all ties with me. All because I went to watch Hamlet at Elsie's Bar yesterday with some friends that included someone she isn't particularly fond of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want her to hate me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently, I'm a liar, a fucker, a bastard, and a moron for doing what I did yesterday (in that order). Yeah, and she tells me all of this on MY BIRTHDAY! Yippee fuckin' ya ye, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be fair to her, though, I did keep the details rather vague. For instance, I didn't tell her that some people who were supposed to join us yesterday for Hamlet had told me a couple of days earlier that they wouldn't be able to make it. I didn't tell her this. With good reason; I didn't want another argument and, more importantly, I didn't want her to get unnecessarily worked up over nothing. But, as you may have guessed, she found out somehow (she forced it out of me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took the whole thing the wrong way and accused me of doing all sorts of horrible things and called me all of those names I have mentioned above (and more). Oh and she also added "and all the bad things in the world".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a birthday, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... It's 1 a.m. now. Apparently we're finishing early today. Time for me to bugger off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-4396854702347944410?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4396854702347944410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=4396854702347944410' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4396854702347944410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4396854702347944410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthday-blues.html' title='Birthday blues'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5884029488033621620</id><published>2009-02-25T21:42:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-25T22:38:05.202+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Got this in the mail today</title><content type='html'>Thought I'd share. Whoever wrote this is a genius. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I never quite figured out why the sexual urge of men and women differ so much. And I never have figured out the whole Venus and Mars thing.&lt;br /&gt;I have never figured out why men think with their head and women with their heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR EXAMPLE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One evening last week, my girlfriend and I were getting into bed.&lt;br /&gt;Well, the passion starts to heat up, and she eventually says, 'I don't feel like it, I just want you to hold me.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, 'WHAT??!! What was that?!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she says the words that every boyfriend on the planet dreads to hear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You're just not in touch with my emotional needs as a woman enough for me to satisfy your physical needs as a man.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She responded to my puzzled look by saying, 'Can't you just love me for who I am and not what I do for you in the bedroom?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing that nothing was going to happen that night, I went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The very next day I opted to take the day off of work to spend time with her. We went out to a nice lunch and then went shopping at a big, big unnamed department store. I walked around with her while she tried on several different very expensive outfits. She couldn't decide which one to take, so I told her we'd just buy them all. She wanted new&lt;br /&gt;shoes to compliment her new clothes, so I said, 'Lets get a pair for each outfit.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went on to the jewelry department where she picked out a pair of diamond earrings. Let me tell you... she was so excited. She must have thought I was one wave short of a shipwreck. I started to think she was testing me because she asked for a tennis bracelet when she&lt;br /&gt;doesn't even know how to play tennis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I threw her for a loop when I said, 'That's fine, honey.' She&lt;br /&gt;was almost nearing sexual satisfaction from all of the excitement.&lt;br /&gt;Smiling with excited anticipation, she finally said, 'I think this is&lt;br /&gt;all dear, let's go to the cashier.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could hardly contain myself when I blurted out, 'No honey, I don't feel like it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her face just went completely blank as her jaw dropped with a baffled, 'WHAT?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then said, 'Honey! I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while.&lt;br /&gt;You're just not in touch with my financial needs as a man enough for me to satisfy your shopping needs as a woman.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just when she had this look like she was going to kill me, I&lt;br /&gt;added, 'Why can't you just love me for who I am and not for the things I buy you?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I'm not having sex tonight either....but at least that&lt;br /&gt;bitch knows I'm smarter than her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Disclaimer - I didn't write this myself (I wish). Credit goes to whoever that did. Awesome stuff.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5884029488033621620?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5884029488033621620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5884029488033621620' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5884029488033621620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5884029488033621620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/got-this-in-mail-today.html' title='Got this in the mail today'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-8256657765083279285</id><published>2009-02-23T12:46:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-23T12:49:28.487+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><title type='text'>2009 Oscar Opening</title><content type='html'>This year's &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SUJ-7tCIHTU" target="_blank"&gt; Oscar Opening&lt;/a&gt; where Wolverine breaks into song. Check it out. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-8256657765083279285?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/8256657765083279285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=8256657765083279285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8256657765083279285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/8256657765083279285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/2009-oscar-opening.html' title='2009 Oscar Opening'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-3834286655979461163</id><published>2009-02-12T19:36:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-12T20:35:02.699+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Paranoia</title><content type='html'>We are born killers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, as a species, move ever forward eating up all the resources this planet has to offer, and as a token of gratitude we leave utter destruction in our wake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have religions designed to keep us from doing wrong, despite which we commit every sin in the book on a daily basis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have leaders and people making sackfuls of money under the guise of representing us in government.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have governments telling us what to do, all the while breaking their own rules in broad daylight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We whine about it a little, curse them a little, and we, being the hypocrites that we are, vote them back in to power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thrive on division and competition, be it racial, religious, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wage wars against our own kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are systematically destroying everything that is vital to our own survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are well on our way to another stone age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna be awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-3834286655979461163?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/3834286655979461163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=3834286655979461163' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3834286655979461163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/3834286655979461163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/paranoia.html' title='Paranoia'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5174761019925481606</id><published>2009-02-08T19:10:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:44:51.676+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Twenty questions</title><content type='html'>1.  Why do we have earwax? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Why does the moon always look bigger on a Poya day? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Why do supposedly nutritious vegetables like &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/arunsinha/804890585/" target="_blank"&gt;bitter gout&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;i&gt;karavila&lt;/i&gt;) taste so... well... bitter? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Why are the Sigiriya frescoes art, and any Sri Lankan movie with a bit of nudity in it is porn? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Why do lions have manes when other felines don't? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Why is it that in the animal kingdom the male is always better looking than the female? (e.g. - lions, peacocks, all horned animals, elephants, etc.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Why is it that when it comes to humans, it's the other way around? (Women are generally considered more aesthetically pleasing to the eye than men). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Why does everything taste "just like chicken"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Why do romantic comedies seem as if it's the same story over and over again with only the characters and places changed? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Why is nearly every single movie that revolves around the life of a robot so frickin' depressing? (A.I., The Bicentennial Man)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Why do people buy iPods when they already own mobile phones that can play music just as well as any mp3 player in the market?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Why do people hero worship the same bunch of daylight robbers called politicians who cheat them, lie to them and steal their hard earned money every single day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Why do most super heroes wear their &lt;a href="http://tikakpissu.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-see-london-i-see-france.html" target="_blank"&gt;underwear&lt;/a&gt; on the outside?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Why do some people buy designer underwear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Why are a majority of fashion designers gay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Why is it that rockers have long hair and rappers have very short hair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Why are disposable cups made of plastic?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Why are there no time travelers visiting us from the future?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Why is it that in movies aliens only abduct Americans?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Why am I writing this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5174761019925481606?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5174761019925481606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5174761019925481606' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5174761019925481606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5174761019925481606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/20-questions.html' title='Twenty questions'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5554206900158527412</id><published>2009-02-04T21:34:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T23:51:15.386+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Lucas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Star Wars'/><title type='text'>Star Wars in the eyes of a three-year-old</title><content type='html'>Watch &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBM854BTGL0" target="_blank"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George Lucas would be proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited to add: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kG1hkBXh6lc&amp;NR=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Star Wars according to a three-year-old" according to a 23-year-old&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, a parody of the above video. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda lame, but kinda funny too. I can't decide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5554206900158527412?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5554206900158527412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5554206900158527412' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5554206900158527412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5554206900158527412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/star-wars-way-three-year-old-sees-it.html' title='Star Wars in the eyes of a three-year-old'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1243977715906459703</id><published>2009-02-03T18:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-03T22:35:59.388+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='American Idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Cowel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reality TV'/><title type='text'>How real is Reality TV?</title><content type='html'>How could &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmWL73k11NA" target="_blank"&gt;any of this&lt;/a&gt; not be staged? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there are the occasional deluded souls like you and me who think they're the awesomest shower singers the world will never hear, but, surely, no one is THIS wrong about their... "talents". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying the producers of &lt;i&gt;Idol&lt;/i&gt; are trying to cheat their viewers, and I'm not trying to make fun of those contestants; no way. But it's highly unlikely that anyone would be so stupid as to make fools of themselves on a TV show that is watched by millions of people the world over (unless, of course, it's publicity that they're after.. and, as everyone knows, there's no such thing as bad publicity). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one thing not being able to sing and to give a less than stellar performance (vocals wise), even on international TV, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that (I can't sing for toffees myself :p ), but it's absolute lunacy  to sing something like &lt;i&gt;Genie In A Bottle&lt;/i&gt; and dance like a retard, when you &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; you're a perfectly sane and rational human being. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it all a little hard to swallow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a safe bet that more viewers worldwide watch the latter stages of the show (the run up to the finale) than the audition and 'Hollywood' rounds. This, quite possibly, is the case with a majority of so called reality TV series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it not be a ploy on the part of the powers that be at the big networks aimed at giving a boost to a given season's initial ratings (which, to be fair, is not a heinous crime)? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it ethical, though, to "display" such auditions? Sure, you watch it, have a hearty laugh at someone's expense, and forget it the moment the next contestant comes along. No biggie. After all, what's TV for, if not entertainment, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Idol" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt; has this to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Before contestants get the chance to see the show's judges, they go through two rigorous sets of cuts: the first consists of a brief audition in front of one or two of the show's producers with three other contestants. Contestants are then either sent through to the next round of producers or are asked to leave. Only about 100–200 contestants in each city make it past this round, which is a staggering statistic considering that tens of thousands of people show up to audition in each city.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, clearly, the producers decide who gets to meet the judges (and, consequently, end up on TV). Is it so impossible that they intentionally send the really bad ones to the judges just for laughs? Obviously not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about those over enthusiastic few who go the extra mile to annoy Simon? Contestants are only required to sing; they don't have to do anything else (again, unless they're looking for 15 minutes of fame).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do they really &lt;i&gt;want&lt;/i&gt; to make fools of themselves like that? Or do they genuinely believe that they're good at what they do? &lt;i&gt;OR&lt;/i&gt; are they &lt;i&gt;told&lt;/i&gt; to get all theatrical like that (for a few hundred bucks maybe?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I don't think it's the first two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________&lt;br /&gt;Disjointed post. Tired. Hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1243977715906459703?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1243977715906459703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1243977715906459703' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1243977715906459703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1243977715906459703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-real-is-reality-tv.html' title='How real is Reality TV?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7803089065763435044</id><published>2009-01-29T23:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-30T01:07:07.157+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Senselessly whiny rant</title><content type='html'>So with everyone (including Tom, Dick and two of my bosses) headed to Galle for the weekend for that much hyped "LitFest" (does that sound saucy or what?), and since work prevents me from jumping on the bandwagon, I'm stuck with nothing to do this weekend - well, Sunday to be precise; I have a job that makes me work on Saturday, so I don't really get to have a "weekend" off in its traditional sense... but that's beside the point... So, am looking forward to a Sunday filled with Class A boredom, with nothing to do and the prospect of having to listen to everyone's near-orgasmic accounts of the &lt;i&gt;fest&lt;/i&gt; once they return. It seems EVERYONE I know is willing to shed a few big ones for that... thing. Argh! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, I feel better already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said that, this year's GLF sounds like a pretty big deal and it appears that I'm missing out on some good stuff. I hear they're bringing down the guy who wrote Schindler's Ark. Man, that's big. And I've always wanted to meet Carl Muller. Dunno if he's going to be there this time, though. I'm guessing he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't really know why I'm so worked up. It's not like I'm this hardcore reader who would love nothing more than to attend bookclub meetings in his spare time (do we even &lt;i&gt;have&lt;/i&gt; those things here?). In fact, I've never &lt;i&gt;been&lt;/i&gt; to this GLF thing before... ever. And I'm not the type to be seen sipping coffee with the rich and famous. I despise that sort of thing. So why now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. Maybe I'm just pissed off that I can't get my Saturdays off. And it's not just 9-5, man. For reasons best known to my immediate boss, on Saturdays I'm required to stay at office till 1 am the next frickin' day! I can still remember the look on his face when I asked him if I could be excused to go for Onstage last year. Not that I actually told him I was going for a rock concert, but, you know... &lt;br /&gt;But he's a nice guy, and quite the gentleman, so he let me off. And I actually felt kinda bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I dunno. I don't get to do anything on Saturdays that doesn't involve sitting at a desk and staring into a computer monitor, when I should be out having a ball, or not doing anything at all for that matter. I can't remember the last time I went for a party on a Saturday, and parties are almost always held on Saturdays. Not to say I'm a social butterfly or anything but seriously, man, a guy's gotta have some time off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Can't complain; at least I get paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about all the whining, man (if you're still reading this, that is). :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7803089065763435044?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7803089065763435044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7803089065763435044' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7803089065763435044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7803089065763435044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/senselessly-whiny-rant-ahead.html' title='Senselessly whiny rant'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6358548681984358581</id><published>2009-01-27T22:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-29T00:17:07.160+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Calvin and Hobbes'/><title type='text'>Calvin and Hobbes - seriously funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCKJcaVC6I/AAAAAAAAAAs/DIm7PaT6no4/s1600-h/Calvin_and_Hobbes_Original.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCKJcaVC6I/AAAAAAAAAAs/DIm7PaT6no4/s320/Calvin_and_Hobbes_Original.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296385056637782946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was flipping through the pages of a collection of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvin_and_Hobbes" target="_blank"&gt;Calvin and Hobbes&lt;/a&gt; comics (&lt;i&gt;It's a Magical World&lt;/i&gt; by Bill Watterson) a little while ago and came across something very interesting. Thought I'd share. Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Calivn: Doesn't it seem like everybody just shouts at each other nowadays? I think it's because conflict is drama, drama is entertaining, and entertainment is marketable. Finding consensus and common ground is &lt;i&gt;dull!&lt;/i&gt; Nobody wants to watch a civilized discussion that acknowledges ambiguity and complexity. We want to see fireworks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We want the sense of solidarity and identity that comes from having our interests narrowed and exploited by like-minded zealots! Talk show hosts, political candidates, news programmes, special interest groups... They all become successful by reducing debates to the level of shouted rage. Nothing gets solved, but we're all entertained.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that kid is deep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who haven't yet had the fortune to read this simply awesome comic strip, I highly recommend getting your hands on a copy of at least &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Calvin_and_Hobbes_books" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; of the available titles&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about this kid and his softy-toy tiger who, in the kid's ultra vivid imagination, is a living, talking, but very mild, tiger, and their hilarious misadventures and thought provoking conversations about life that border on the deeply philosophical. The above excerpt ought to give you an idea. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easily one of the best comic strips ever to have been published. Very good read. Go get your copy now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Image courtesy &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;, copyright Bill Watterson; Calvin and Hobbes collections published by Andrews McMeel Publishing and distributed by Universal Press Syndicate.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6358548681984358581?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6358548681984358581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6358548681984358581' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6358548681984358581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6358548681984358581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/calvin-and-hobbes-seriouly-funny.html' title='Calvin and Hobbes - seriously funny'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCKJcaVC6I/AAAAAAAAAAs/DIm7PaT6no4/s72-c/Calvin_and_Hobbes_Original.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1602958871011749603</id><published>2009-01-26T13:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-28T22:33:30.933+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Dark Knight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christian Bale'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Joker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chrisopher Nolan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heath Ledger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Batman'/><title type='text'>Let's put a smile on that face</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCIh750p2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/uwQwWDEe3iY/s1600-h/HeathJoker.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCIh750p2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/uwQwWDEe3iY/s200/HeathJoker.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296383278384981858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think anyone was surprised to hear that, &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28843665/" target="_blank"&gt;last night&lt;/a&gt;, Heath Ledger clinched the coveted Screen Actors' Guild Award for Best Supporting Actor for his absofuckingloutely brilliant portrayal of The Joker in &lt;i&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/i&gt;, a role any actor would kill for, and quite possibly the darkest and most intriguing movie villain of our times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The award, and more importantly, the Oscar nomination, couldn't have come at a more significant time for the family and friends of the late great actor: exactly &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28796818/" target="_blank"&gt;one year&lt;/a&gt; after his tragic death. (Ledger died on January 22, last year; the Oscar nomination was announced on January 22, this year). Many of them have said it was a very bittersweet moment for them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any Batman geek will tell you that Ledger's take on The Joker was by far the best &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt;, even better than that of Jack Nicholson in &lt;i&gt;Batman&lt;/i&gt; (1989). The Joker's fate was left (intentionally?) ambiguous at the end of TDK, but I doubt the producers would want such an iconic character killed off just two movies into the series; it doesn't make sense... at least in terms of "Hollywood Commerce". Now the question is, if The Joker is indeed alive, who's going to play him in a future Batman movie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you can bet that there &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; be at least one more movie in the franchise, and Christoper Nolan and Christian Bale &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; return (they'd BETTER - It's thanks to them that the Batman story is getting the respect it deserves. Anyone remember the disgustingly campy Batman movies of the mid '90s?). And the producers (maybe not Director Nolan, but definitely Warner Bros) &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; be tempted to recast the role. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I really can't think of anyone that could fill the (very big) shoes left by Ledger. I say, if the producers can't find a good enough replacement, then drop the role altogether. That, I think, is the right thing to do, for Ledger &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; for the fans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring on the Oscars, baby. Let's put a smile on that face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Image courtesy &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1602958871011749603?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1602958871011749603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1602958871011749603' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1602958871011749603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1602958871011749603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/lets-put-smile-on-that-face.html' title='Let&apos;s put a smile on that face'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCIh750p2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/uwQwWDEe3iY/s72-c/HeathJoker.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-192474785746042703</id><published>2009-01-25T21:47:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-26T00:17:45.048+05:30</updated><title type='text'>What's up with Blogger?</title><content type='html'>I'm new to this whole blogging business, so I'm not that well acquainted with some of the features of Blogger and Wordpress yet. But I think there's something wrong with my user account on Blogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the prob: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I've written and published a total of eight posts. But, for some inexplicable reason, my dashboard says that I've published 11 posts. And the last time I signed in, it said I had 10 posts even though I still had only eight posts. It seems the post count has gone up even though I didn't actually post anything new. It's weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Appreciate it if someone could shed some light on this. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-192474785746042703?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/192474785746042703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=192474785746042703' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/192474785746042703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/192474785746042703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-up-with-blogger.html' title='What&apos;s up with Blogger?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-1759210791281487328</id><published>2009-01-22T23:04:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-02-04T23:03:51.271+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Dark Knight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Lord of the Rings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Star Wars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heath Ledger'/><title type='text'>That questionnaire - I'm in the mood</title><content type='html'>OK, so everyone's been filling up that questionnaire thing lately, and so I thought I'd take a shot at it myself. Not that I'm really into that sorta thing, but since I'm new here and all... You get the drift...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I'm borrowing &lt;a href="http://tikakpissu.blogspot.com/2009/01/interview-with-spidey.html" target="_blank"&gt;Makuluwo's questions&lt;/a&gt; without her permission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Who are you in one word? Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you believe in true love? I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Are you easy to be friends with? Depends... are &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; easy to be friends with?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. People person? Yes, but again, depends on the people in question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Dreams? Does "to b happy" sound too corny?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Roots? Colombo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Education? Yes. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Music? Rock, rap, hip hop, classical and a bit of techno... Guns n' Roses, Tupac, Enigma, Enya, Yanni, Eminem, Bob Sinclair (when I'm in the mood), the music of the '90s, Michael Jackson (anyone who tells you that they don't like his dancing is a liar. Don't trust them with anything. :p  )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, anything that sounds good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Sound you're hearing right now? That of my CPU fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Last Movie and with who? If you mean at a theater, The Dark Knight with my ex. Planing to go see Madagascar 2 asap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Favorite movie (pick one)? Way too many to list. I'm a sucker for LotR, Star Wars, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love comic book movies, all time favourite being The Dark Knight (they'd &lt;i&gt;better&lt;/i&gt; give Ledger that Oscar he &lt;a href="http://goddessofvileness.wordpress.com/2009/01/22/the-amazing-joker/" target="_blank"&gt;just got nominated for&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jurassic Park, Schindler's List, Munich, The Prestige, Batman Begins, Spider-Man 2, Shrek II, Iron Man, Tropic Thunder, Catch Me If You Can, Forrest Gump, Saving Private Ryan, AI, The Village (not really, but I liked the way it ended), The Blair Witch Project (quite possibly the scariest movie ever made, you don't want to watch it all by yourself, in the dead of night with just the headphones on, trust me), Sin City, the American Pie trilogy (the first three only), Ben Stiller movies, and the list goes on and on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I LOVE to make boring lists that no one will ever find interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Currently reading? The Audacity of Hope by that guy who just moved to the White House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Working at - An office complex somewhere in Colombo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Like your job? Yes and no. The job is something I've always wanted to do... just wish I could say the same about the pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Are you egoistic? Not as much as you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What's the craziest thing you've done? Singing the National Anthem as loud as I possibly could inside a van on my way back to the Unawatuna Beach Resort from Weligama with some friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? I like the melody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What's your favourite song? Do you really want to be bored by another long-ass list?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Favourite hangout? I'm a people person, remember? :p So anywhere is cool with me as long as the crowd's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What do you love most? How do people come up with questions like this? Honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Your weakness? I'm one of those "nice guys", but I'm working on being a nice asshole as per the general consensus reached on what men ought to be in the eyes of women following the comments on &lt;a href="http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-do-nice-guys-finish-last.html" target="_blank"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; by me and &lt;a href="http://thewhacksterslair.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-subjective-shit-nice-guys-and.html" target="_blank"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt; by TheWhacksteR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What pisses you off? People with superiority complexes. (I had to steal Makuluwo's answer to this one. Sorry, Spidey).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Your Hell? Hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Food? Anything edible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. The ideal lifestyle? Living it up on the monthly interest of your 10 million dollar bank account without having to work. Yes, I'm lazy. Sue me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. If you could have one wish? The power to keep on wishing. Duh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-1759210791281487328?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/1759210791281487328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=1759210791281487328' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1759210791281487328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/1759210791281487328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/that-questionnaire-me-is-in-mood.html' title='That questionnaire - I&apos;m in the mood'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-4524370278096704751</id><published>2009-01-21T00:13:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-28T22:25:26.398+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Issues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michael Jackson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Israel'/><title type='text'>Hello, Mr. President</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCJalUj0zI/AAAAAAAAAAc/skPi0A9qRB8/s1600-h/Official_portrait_of_Barack_Obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 147px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCJalUj0zI/AAAAAAAAAAc/skPi0A9qRB8/s200/Official_portrait_of_Barack_Obama.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296384251575653170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our favourite African American (after Michael Jackson) is having lunch with 200 guests in Washington DC at this precise moment. Among those guests are his erstwhile enemies, harshest critics and those looking to use him to get what they want - and of course those who genuinely and enthusiastically supported his bid for the Presidency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his 18 minute speech that, in my humble opinion, slightly lacked (VERY slightly, microscopically so) the sheer awesomeness of his post-election acceptance speech on November 4 that moved Jessy Jackson and millions of others to tears, he had two important things to say to the enemies of his country - 1) Don't fuck with us, 2) If you really want to fuck with us, let's discuss the terms first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therein lies the difference between Obama and practically every single US President of late, most significant of them being George Walker Bush. Obama will have his gun loaded and ready, but he will not pull the trigger unless he really has to. He'd much rather try talking to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the conservative media led by Faux News tried to paint him as a sympathiser and even worse, an appeaser, of global terror in the run up to the elections (he was actually called a "terrorist" by overenthusiastic McCain supporters at &lt;a href="http://crooksandliars.com/john-amato/obama-called-terrorist-john-mccain-spea" target="_blank"&gt;at least one Republican rally&lt;/a&gt;, largely ignored (if not egged on) by that nightmare of a VP candidate, Palin). Obama appears to have silenced those critics now and today, in true American fashion, he told their "enemies" in no uncertain terms that they need to be watching their asses. "We &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; defeat you," he said quite convincingly. If I were an Al-Qaida dude, I'd start looking for a place to hide right about.. NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, he also said that he's willing to work together with the Muslim world and work towards building trust and understanding based on mutual interests (read oil).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, something's better than nothing, right? There's enough shit going on in the world right now. Even at the risk of letting the ice caps melt, the West and the Middle East need to CHILL, and if that means more oil politics, then so be it. Just enough with the fuckin' violence already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's Gaza, as I said in one of my previous posts, this is one issue on which Obama's stance has been... ambiguous, at best. But according to CNN he has expressed a personal interest in getting involved. Dunno how factual this is, though. If it is then, great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then what can he do? He's just one powerful man against a much more powerful Jewish lobby. His Chief of Staff is Rahm Emmanuel - enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let's wish the man all the best. At least he'll do a better job than his predecessor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way am I the only one who felt kinda bad for Bush Jr today? I mean I know he's responsible for half the shit that's been going down and all, but I dunno... I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy as he sat there, his expressionless face staring into nothingness as he listened to that left wing black guy make some veiled references to some of his supposed blunders. "How dare he?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno. I thought Obama should've cut him some slack there. It was Bush's last day in office after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Just my two cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Image courtesy &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org" target="_blank"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-4524370278096704751?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4524370278096704751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=4524370278096704751' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4524370278096704751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4524370278096704751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/hello-mr-president.html' title='Hello, Mr. President'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/SYCJalUj0zI/AAAAAAAAAAc/skPi0A9qRB8/s72-c/Official_portrait_of_Barack_Obama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6780554153711485674</id><published>2009-01-19T12:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-22T00:01:48.220+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>It feels great to be stabbed in the back!</title><content type='html'>I'm pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just stabbed in the back by a couple of friends who I thought I could trust. I’m pissed off to the hilt. But am I hurt and wallowing in self pity? No. Why, you ask? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, for some weird-ass reason, it feels GOOD to be stabbed in the back. The feeling is quite amazing really. It’s a mixture of pain, anger and, oddly enough, a really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; feeling of being on moral high ground, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;way&lt;/span&gt; above the fucktards who actually did the backstabbing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s weird, but, for some inexplicable reason, it makes you feel good about yourself. It’s like taking a sugar-coated pill, if you get my analogy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gotta feel it to know what it’s like. Hand out a few sharp knives to your friends some time. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Sorry. Didn't want to write this shit down. Not very proud of this post. Oh well. It's just one of those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6780554153711485674?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6780554153711485674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6780554153711485674' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6780554153711485674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6780554153711485674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-feels-great-to-be-stabbed-in-back.html' title='It feels great to be stabbed in the back!'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-5668246870481053387</id><published>2009-01-18T10:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-22T00:02:12.092+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Why do nice guys finish last?</title><content type='html'>I mean seriously, isn't it supposed to be the other way around? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes a nice guy less appealing than, say, a backstabbing jerk who'd dump you for your best friend without a moment's hesitation? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As kids all of us were taught by our parents and teachers that being NICE is the way to go. You be nice to the world, and the world will not bite your ass. You treat the ladies like a gentleman and they will at least CONSIDER going out with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we ALL know that that's not the case. AT ALL! I mean look around you. The hottest chicks are dating the biggest jerks you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a nice guy (ladies, please take note of that :D). Well I am, but I'm not THAT nice. My ex-girlfriend didn't think I was very nice to her while we were breaking up and she was probably right. But then don't all couples tend to feel that way when they're going through a bad break up? (Yes, I'm trying not to sound guilty).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm generally considered a relatively nice guy. A nice-o-meter would give me a 7.5. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK fine, I'm a VERY nice guy. But in my defence, I can be pretty nasty when I'm angry. Not that I ever get violent or anything but I tend to use the F word a lot when I'm pissed. However I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; gotten into a couple of fistfights here and there; but then that was only because I had to defend myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally, I'm cool and don't look for trouble even in the face of extreme provocation; not that I have ever really been provoked as such, but you get the drift. However there are times when I'm so driven up the wall that I just HAVE to deal with it in a physical way, and I do that by taking out my mountain bike and riding it for miles and miles, non-stop, till I my legs start to feel like lead. And I suppose even THAT doesn't make me a non-nice-guy. Argh! But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back to the point I was trying to make, or rather, the question I was trying to raise, WHY do nice guys finish last? Or do they really? Is it just one of those popular misconceptions or is there really some truth to it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get it, man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-5668246870481053387?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/5668246870481053387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=5668246870481053387' title='29 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5668246870481053387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/5668246870481053387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-do-nice-guys-finish-last.html' title='Why do nice guys finish last?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>29</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-6156728471543133834</id><published>2009-01-16T23:48:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-28T22:35:09.047+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Murali'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sanga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><title type='text'>Did you watch the match?</title><content type='html'>Was that a nail biting finish, or what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Sanga and Murali who saved the day for us. Even after getting the Bangladeshis bowled out for a measly 152 we were struggling as if we were facing Australia and South Africa combined! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we won, and I guess at the end of the day that's all that matters. I think Sanga summed it up best when he apparently said during a post-match interview that it was our experience in playing finals that took the game away from the Bangladeshis who, to their credit, played exceedingly well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's no reason to brush aside and ignore our less than perfect performance with the bat today. At one point the scoreboard actually showed more wickets than runs (6 for 5). Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well... we won, and even though we SUCKED today (for the most part), we wouldn't have made it to the finals if we weren't the BEST FRICKIN' TEAM in the whole of South Asia (if not the world)... which, by the way, we ARE! (Yes, that's a fact :p ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sri Lankan Cricket ROCKS, man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-6156728471543133834?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/6156728471543133834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=6156728471543133834' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6156728471543133834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/6156728471543133834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/did-you-watch-match.html' title='Did you watch the match?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-589674698173893408</id><published>2009-01-14T20:52:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-20T01:34:44.563+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Issues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Israel'/><title type='text'>The System 2.0  - Change We Can Believe In?</title><content type='html'>So Barack Obama is gonna take his oaths as Number 44 in less than a week from now. So what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole world watched with baited breath on November 4 waiting for Wolf Blitzer on CNN to break the news that everyone was dying to hear - that Barack Hussein Obama achieved what many thought was an impossible dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People of all ages, races and places were moved beyond words and got pretty emotional at the news, witnessing history in the making. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying. It was a historic moment of epic proportions and there's no denying its significance. Yours-truly had to exercise great self restraint to stop himself from jumping for joy (literally). :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, as any two-year-old would tell you, Obama is going to hold the nuclear codes and, in essence, going be the most powerful man on Earth. But is he really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will they let him? (I know what you're thinking right now, "another conspiracy theorist". No, I'm not that, I assure you). :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a country that is said to be (and clearly is, at least on the surface) free, fair and fully democratic, the much hackneyed "system" that operates in the US of A is pretty fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Simple; it's the far right (and the disgustingly rich) that controls it. Obama maybe the most liberal Democrat to have ever run for office but we can rest assured that it's not going to be him calling all the shots; well, not the ones that matter anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ever present lobbyists are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No amount of "change" can ever stand up to the influence of these lobbies, let alone completely erase it from the picture. I'm not doubting Obama's integrity and I'm sure he'll try his best to live up to his campaign promises, but let's face it, it's gonna be one majorly uphill climb for the guy (not counting the economy crisis).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for instance his as yet ambiguous stance on the situation in Gaza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Innocent people are dying over there as you read this (please tell me SOMEONE is reading this), and Obama hasn't said a word in protest. To use a cliche, his silence has been deafening. Even though he is not a Muslim himself, it's reasonable to assume that his Muslim connections (albeit very distant) lead at least a part of him to believe that there's something wrong with the US policy on the Middle East. Do you even have to be Muslim to be concerned about those poor civilians anyway? I'm not Muslim and yet here I am writing this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess it all comes down to "national interest". At the end of the day, it will not be the lives of a few hundred "outsiders" that will be important, but the rich oil reserves in the Middle East and elsewhere. And it's not just the US, really. Every major power is guilty of this. What matters will not be "equality for all" as preached by practically every single world leader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "system" will continue to ensure that the fittest will survive, whatever the cost, and the weak is either eliminated or suppressed; OK maybe not eliminated but definitely suppressed and kept in their place. I suppose, in that sense, the system hasn't let them down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it won't for a long time to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hopng that Obama will at least use his &lt;a href="http://sundaytimes.lk/090104/Education/eu600.html" target="_blank"&gt;marketing skills&lt;/a&gt; on the powerful lobbyists (wishful thinking, I know). Oh  well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-589674698173893408?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/589674698173893408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=589674698173893408' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/589674698173893408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/589674698173893408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/system-change-we-can-believe-in.html' title='The System 2.0  - Change We Can Believe In?'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-7865926688836930848</id><published>2009-01-14T08:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-28T22:35:47.571+05:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sri Lanka'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Issues'/><title type='text'>Happy New Year (I think)...</title><content type='html'>OK, it's been more than a month since my last (first ever) post. Work (read idling) got in the way of getting this thing off the ground. Can't complain, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, a lot has happened during these one and a half months, but nothing that could not have been predicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new year dawned, and everyone wished each other a happy and fantabulous new year. Whether or not any of us is actually having a happy and fantabulous new year is the real question. The "independent" media of this country sure as heck isn't. And neither is, it appears, &lt;a href="http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/myfox/pages/News/Detail?contentId=8240017&amp;version=1&amp;locale=EN-US&amp;layoutCode=VSTY&amp;pageId=3.11.1" target="_blank"&gt;this guy&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We seem to have officially started racial profiling (that dreaded website &lt;a href="http://thejestah100.blogspot.com/2009/01/jeebus.html" target="_blank"&gt;everyone&lt;/a&gt; seems to be talking about these days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilinochchi and Elephant Pass have been captured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;King Khan still wants to say Hello to the same people who bombed him four years ago, and there's talk that at least one of the current mobile operators will have to start packing their bags soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE ARE WINNING THE TRI-NATION SERIES IN BANGLADESH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The global economic meltdown is said to start melting down the local business community, and by extension the public, &lt;a href="http://sundaytimes.lk/081109/FinancialTimes/ft3035.html" target="_blank"&gt;"sooner or later"&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, did 2009 start with a bang, or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a much lighter note...&lt;br /&gt;Have you seen &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0LgJo9Do-8" target="_blank"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-7865926688836930848?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/7865926688836930848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=7865926688836930848' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7865926688836930848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/7865926688836930848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year-i-think.html' title='Happy New Year (I think)...'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2150370008311645725.post-4711492852025830824</id><published>2008-12-02T02:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-14T13:09:39.928+05:30</updated><title type='text'>First post!</title><content type='html'>Ayubowan, Wanakkam, and Hello to all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is 1.47 am on the dot on a pleasantly cool December night, or should I say morning, in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Colombo&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Sri Lanka&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author of this post who goes by the name Paparé Boy is half asleep at the moment, not entirely sure where this post (AND blog) is headed, and not having the faintest idea as to why he's doing this at all, except that he's always wanted to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, moi is a newbie to the blogosphere. So please excuse any blogging blasphemies on my part. I'm just here to read and (hopefully) be read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here goes nothing... Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2150370008311645725-4711492852025830824?l=thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/feeds/4711492852025830824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2150370008311645725&amp;postID=4711492852025830824' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4711492852025830824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2150370008311645725/posts/default/4711492852025830824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thepaparechronicles.blogspot.com/2008/12/first-post.html' title='First post!'/><author><name>Paparé Boy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00976231243904010566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jLUu8dV3-IY/Sycfiq7g62I/AAAAAAAAAHA/YiuFlFKStZw/S220/Vader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
