Desmond and 'Blog'.

It has been very many hours and very many days, and I can't help but wonder if self-professed 'Regularly-Updated' blogs were really meant to function in this irregular manner.

Probably not.

I blame the heat you know. Something about the humidity and the sweaty palms (and consequentially, sweaty keyboard) really puts me off blogging and thinking in general. And spare me the "we need the heat to survive" tune. Sure, heat is a good thing. But you know what they say about too much of a good thing, don't you? Besides, heat exhaustion is a very real condition.

So World -- or rather, Blog? You shall now be known monosyllabic-ally. Gone are the messy, pressurising titles that precede your name. From now on, you are Blog, and nothing else.

At least until the weather decides to turn in my favour.

Desmond and the Pineapple Tarts.

I've always thought pineapple tarts to be the de facto poster boy of the Chinese New Year. And for good reason too. I mean, topping yourself with a pineapple filling and then diving head-first into the oven? Pure genius and - dare I say it - nerves of steel!

And yes, while it's true the other goodies go through the fire too, I'm going to give Pineapple Tarts the benefit of the doubt. What can I say, I'm a Pineapple-Tarts Tub Half Full kinda guy.

Happy Chinese New Year Everyone!

Desmond and the Cheap Bahamas Trip.

I changed me toothbrush today!

Sure, so it isn't like the Queen came over for tea, because I change my toothbrush regularly and she comes over, well, never. But a new toothbrush is always exciting. New toothbrushes are like fresh towels, or new year clothes. New toothbrushes are cheap holidays to the Bahamas; the poor man's alternative to getting a new Porsche.

And World, I really did need a new toothbrush.

(Coincidentally, This Individual also changed to a fresh towel today. Is today the best day ever or what!?)

Desmond and the Chippolation.

(Article here, if you can be bothered. I couldn't.)

I was thinking the other day about chips -- admittedly a strange thing to give thought to -- and I came to a chippolation. (Read: Revelation about chips.)

Chips have evolved. Long gone are the tubes and packets of 'Original' and 'BBQ'. Now, we have Sweet Thai Chilli and Wasabi (puke!). We have Shrimp and Vinegar; Pizza and Green Tea. Not that all of these inventive, out-of-the-tube flavoured potato chips are bad, but honestly? Methinks Wasabi should be kept in the corner of the fridge which never sees the light of Kitchen Light.

In any case, little ol' me will reach for the lightly-salted chips on my next snack-shopping. A little tastelessness could bode well for me -- I'm sick of strange flavours.

(This Individual confesses to never having seen Wasabi-flavoured potato chips before. Still, he hates Wasabi-anything with a vengence. Especially the packet of Wasabi-flavoured nuggets sitting in the corner of his fridge, which incidentally never sees the light of Kitchen Light. Puke.)

Desmond and Blogging's Sake.

There's been a slight struggle to blog these past few days. Perhaps writing-me has expended all his blog-worthy topics. Or maybe it's just that thing with me and laziness. Whatever it is, I'm not here to judge, least of all myself.

So let's just leave it at that: I'm blogging for blogging's sake.
Please don't judge me.

Desmond and the Rascals.

So much to say, so little motivation to; World, I am a lazy, lazy bum -- at least with respect to blogging. School has started and the readings, projects and other whatnots have been waiting in line, all ready to jump me at the blow of a whistle.

Come to think of it, the whistle has already been blown.

Needless to say (although I still will for want of something to blog), blogging has been a little more difficult to find time for. Now before you burst open the celebratory drinks and go around congratulating each other for my trivial job undone, I will have you know that writing helps me find myself.

You know how it is, the journey within; discovering your inner-child; getting in touch with the man inside. And we have to find our own methods towards discovery. Well, writing helps me realise that at the core of it all, I am really, really just a lazy bum.

A lazy, lazy bum.

(You must take all he says with a sea of salt, this Individual reckons. After all, there's no such thing as an inner-child. There is an inner-thigh, and this he has bruised quite ingloriously. This Individual feels motivated to blame his night cycling for his bruise, but he must be honest -- it was really the fault of his (should-have-been-non-existent) inner-child. Children can be such rascals.)

Desmond and the Violent Man-Fear.

I thought I'd better squeeze in one last incoherent ramble before my holidays bow out for the next few months. It's sad, yes -- as the end of vacations always are -- and it's in these moments when the end draws nigh that the fear of loss and the departure of consistency grips you the hardest.

When you're left feeling choked and suffocated, your instinct then works two ways: it either attempts to pull you back to pre-pre-end safety, or it propels you beyond the end, into the start of a new season. It fights to release the grip, pulling at your attacker; or it pushes at him, in a fruitless bid to convince a violent man to leave.

But maybe the man simply wants to talk. Or maybe he is numb from head to toe, and his hand against your throat is just that - his hand on your neck. Harmless, innocent, benign. Powerless. And weak. When you finally do stop struggling, perhaps it will be plain: you were choking the air out of yourself with another man's hand. And while no one has ever (and can never) strangle himself (to death), maybe you'd save yourself all the fear if you'd just stop worrying.

Tomorrow must come, as it always has, until the Higher Power says otherwise. Months must come, and Pre-pre-ends must be promoted to Pre-ends, and then Ends, just as New Seasons become Seasons, then finally Ended Seasons.

Time and Tide wait for no man. Any strife with Them is a useless attempt to turn away seasons. Seasons will turn themselves, in time.

So then, my fast-ending Holidays, I bid you goodbye, with a hint of sorrow and sadness. But there still is hope in me yet, because Holidays will come again. And until Again comes, I will yet hope.

Desmond and The Need to Get A Cow.

How absolutely strange and cool is this?! I want mine to be drawn by a cow.
With Sprite instead of Coke.

Desmond, Avatar and Notting Hill.

*Possible Spoilers Ahead.*

I watched Avatar (in 3D!) yesterday, as my first movie of the year, and I really liked it. Then when I got home, I found Notting Hill playing on HBO, and that was bloody brilliant too, as Hugh Grant might say.

I must admit I've never watched Notting Hill in its entirety. Yesterday's viewing was the closest to the full thing. And it was predictable, and sweet, and a little incredulous at some points. But it was also simple: just about a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.

Avatar was pretty nifty too. It's what you'd get if you crossed Pocahontas with Narnia and Smurfs on steroids. The story was, like Notting Hill, predictable. Still, I think that predictability made the film work. With all its stunning technical animations and scenes, it was its simple storyline that balanced out the film.

The simplicity of the story reflected Jake Sully's (the protagonist, played by Sam Worthington) person: flawed hero with a quiet strength, who's unannounced. Had it been a bigger, more complicated story, it would have detracted from the earnestness Sully (and Worthington) carries. And like the (somewhat political and LiveEarth-y) current of the film, it's a reminder to return to simpler things.

Avatar managed to carry through its bladder-defying 162 minutes without really losing steam. And I liked that its messages were subtle and subservient to the plot. Of course, this is all subjective, but I think I enjoyed the film enough to ramble about it with such bias.

Critics often lament the lack of surprises and clever twists in shows. They throw a million and one expectations, and then wonder why they leave feeling unsatisfied. And perhaps that's valid. But sometimes, when faced with a world that's ever-changing and oh-so-unpredictable, it's the constant things that appeal to me.

The unchanging, if predictable, stories.

Desmond and the Mashup 09'.

I don't normally fancy dance music, and I have a certain disdain for remixes, but this is really rather nifty. Some guy created a mashup of the top 25 songs of 2009, and it's a pretty catchy result.

Still can't believe Christmas is over and it's another twelve months to go, but regardless, Happy New Year!!

Desmond and the Close of 09'.

I must admit to having had tonnes of fun blogging this year. Perhaps the world has been bored to tears by my incessant Irishing, Keating, Westlifing and Wet Weathering, but I have this to say: tough.

Honestly, I can't say for sure what I will blog about in the coming year but don't count on these disappearing all too soon!

Besides, if you think about it, the jump between years lies merely between today and tomorrow. Sure, a lot of things could change in a year but I'm pretty certain 'year' is a measure of time (365 days) as opposed to one minute from night to midnight; from Thursday to Friday; from 09' to 10'.

Anyways, it's been a blast! Thank you World for listening to me crazy ramblings this past, or passing, year. Or perhaps, thank you for leaving me be by having never read my blog. (In which case, my gratitude must go unacknowledged; which is fine, since if you'd acknowledged it, you'd not be leaving me to my neurosis.)

So then--Adios 09'!
And World, I'll write you soon! Perhaps sooner than you think!

Desmond and The Passing of Christmas 09'.

And so Christmas passes, taking along with it my Tree. Yes -- my beautiful, albeit fake, Christmas Tree has been packed into its cardboard prison, where it must stay until December 10' approaches.

Which might take a while.
Aw, Christmas. I miss you already.

Desmond and The Exotic Christmas Dinner.

I hope Christmas is progressing well for you World! I had an early morning, and I think that's the best, because now my Christmas seems infinitely long (roughly four more hours to go).

Also, I've just had a strangely Chinese Christmas dinner, in every sense of the phrase, but that's fine, because I also had Christmas carols playing in the background.

Here's to a merry four hours more! Stay safe!

(This Individual loves how happy this song sounds, but here's the other song he wanted to post: Mick Flannery's 'Christmas Past'. It's a little sappy so this Individual opted in favor of a cheerier tune, since he feels very merry merry. Still, Mick Flannery is mighty brilliant, and if anyone has any idea how to get Flannery's album, this Individual appreciates it in advance.)

Desmond and Christmas 09'.

YIPPEE!!! I'm grinning like mad, but it's alright because I'm in me room and Christmas is finally here! Merry merry Christmas World!!

Let it snow, let it snow!

Desmond and the Re-Cheering.

A couple of weeks ago, I declared the festive spirit would peak just before Christmas, and that, in my own words, was "splendid for me".

But back in the Here and Now, I regret my statement. Christmas celebrations came too soon and now I feel post-boxing-day, even though we're barely at Christmas Eve! I say, that's what you get for judging a book by its festive cheer -- A nice serving of humble pie. Right in the face.

It's a good thing some merry photosurfing can stir up the Yuletide cheer.
CHRISTMAS IS COMING, WORLD! GOOD TIDINGS!

Desmond and the Two Letters.

With all the wet weather, we're just two letters and twenty degrees shy of a White Christmas.

Desmond and the Concoction.

Christmas always stirs a strange mix of feelings in me: one part nostalgia, with nine parts homesickness. Which is strange, because I'm neither overseas nor a father working overtime with eight children waiting at home.

But it happens.

And when it does, one plays Buble's Home.

(He knows Christmas feelings are very real, so this Individual sends his love to people who are far from home this year. And of course, overtiming fathers with eight children. He would also like to shamelessly tout Westlife's cover of Home. Which he really likes, so keep your snide remarks to yourself. No, seriously.)

Desmond and The Spelling of Christmas Revisited.

I happened on a Yahoo!question today which reminded me of something I blogged nearly a year ago. Back then, I ended off by voicing my irritation at the use of 'Xmas' instead of 'Christmas'. Some friends came up to me after and offered the explanation of the 'X'.

According to them, 'X' is a substitute for 'Christ' -- the idea being to cut Christ out of a supposedly Christian holiday. That sounded legit; much better than my reasoning, which, for the record, was less conspiracy-theorist. I just always assumed the 'X' was an homage to Jesus' cross!

Of course you might say by that logic, it should really have been 'tmas'. But 'tmas' is really ugly compared to 'Xmas', and let's face it:"Happy Tuh-mas"? -- Sounds like we're celebrating a new Thermos-flask.

As it turns out, it was never a nefarious plot to cut Christ out of the festival, nor was it hieroglyphic-homage to the cross. Apparently, 'X' is representative of the Greek letter 'chi'. ('Chi' being the first letter of the Greek word for Christ: "Cristos".) Somewhere along history, people became accustomed to using 'X' to represent 'Christ' in writing.

Incidentally, 'Xmas' is pronounced "Christmas' and not "Ex-mas".

Of course, some people do use 'Xmas' for lesser reasons, but I'm glad the word started off with no ill-meaning. Because Christmas feels better when received without scepticism.

('Tmas' is uglier than 'Xmas', but guess what? 'Xmas' is still pretty ugly. This Individual still thinks 'Christmas' is the right way to go for an authentic Christmas experience. Don't be lazy. Here's the article he found that enlightened him, and here's the Wiki-article on the same issue, because people wiki everything.)

Desmond and the Winter Hiatus.

-photo by sam2cents

World, I must take some time to express my disappointment. No, it's not the lack of festive cheer. So far, the festive spirit this year is moving along pretty smoothly. Me thinks it should peak just before Christmas, which is splendid for me.

No, World, I wish to whine about the lack of December-worthy movies. And this little pain-in-my-holiday-tushie called the Winter Hiatus.

What are the holidays without TV-surfing!?

Desmond and "Christmas is Here".

-photo by Garibaldi McFlurry

School is finally out, and with its exit comes the beautiful month of December! A month devoted to blogging, Irish-photo-surfing and Christmas-fanboying.

Ahhh. Truly 'tis be the festive season!