Life is Crapfuckingtastic!

9/30/2005 11:31:00 AM Edit This 1 Comment »

I'm horrifically busy, exhasuted and too bloody aggravated to blog. Not that anyone's missing anything.

In othernews, I may be moving from Blogger to Blogsome, in order to use the wordpress system cause frankly, I'm bored with Blogger. It will be a bittersweet breakup. It was nice while it lasted, it's not you it's me. Let's just be friends and let me use for photos for my new blog. You're such a good host. Maybe we'll hook up for sex and a smoke soon. Minus the smoke, I like my lungs unblackened and not cancer-ridden.

I've spent the last four days slaving over two psychology essays which are due tomorrow morning and I am one hell of a procrastinator. Which means it will be finished by 8:45 am on Saturday morning, printed and delivered by 9am.... or later. Long live "Later".

In other news, getting money from my mum to buy a new phone (I'm a fucking college student give me a fucking break) is like negotiating with Brad Pitt's character Mickey in Snatch. You have to pay get your ass handed back to you. The woman is fucking relentless. Sweet, caring lady my left ass cheek!

Anyways, I'm off to not finish my essay on time. See you eventually. I'll bore you sometime next week if I get something interesting to say which is highly unfucking likely as my social life is going to shit. Eh. C'est la vie.

Since when did I become such a fucking pottymouth. Shit.

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Battle of the Bulge and the Bi-sexuals.

9/26/2005 05:33:00 PM Edit This 3 Comments »

BC by Johnny Hart

My "chub" and I have a love/ hate relationship. It loves to hate me. I can't tell you how many times I've tried the diet thing (quite unsuccessfully I might add) and it's even harder because I've been slightly overweight for most of my life, since I was 7... What I wouldn't do to turn back time and learn some self control. I'm going to try again. Let's see how long it lasts this time.

In other news, I went to a club on Saturday night. Now, I'm am not a club person, I am pretty much a contented homebody. Give me a DVD, some good company and some Papa John's and I'm good as gravy. But, Mr. S wanted to go, so I obliged. My favorite cousin, who's as close as a sister to me came as well.

Upon entering the club's small, dark, less than flashy interior we were greeted by a crowded bar and an empty dancefloor. Not a good sign. The first think my cuz goes for is a beer. I'm not much of a drinker but I had one too (the only one for the night because I know I can't handle my alcho.) So all three of us go to talk on the side. My cousin has this thing of using me as a block when guys come to bother her (she acts as though I'm her girlfriend.) She's a cute chick so the men in the area start checking her out and as a reflex she grabs on to me. Mind you I'm with my boyfriend as well so frankly he looks like the luckiest man in the club with two "bi" women on his arm. 20 minutes pass, and my cousin downs another beer.

Then I start to notice this girl who looks about 19 dressed like a guy checking my cousin out. To me, this is amusing so I laugh and mention to "C" that she has an admirer. She laughs, blushes and grips me even tighter. Our side of the club was pretty damn boring so we move to the next side where some guys were breakdancing. The D.J. finally starts playing some decent tunes so we start dancing, all 3 of us. Mind you, Trinidadians don't really dance in the generic sense. We "wine". It would look like dry humping to a foreigner to put it simply. So there we were, 2 girls and one guy dry humping on an almost empty dancefloor with all eyes on us. We couldn't be bothered cause we're having fun.

Soon we're sweaty and suddenly aware of the stares, so we take a breather and my cousin goes to the bathroom and I chill in the corner with my boyfriend. As soon as my cousin disappears, I notice the girl dressed like a guy and two of her cohorts follow. I am suspicious but not perturbed so I continue sipping on my beer. A minute later, C comes skating out of the bathroom laughing to tell me she was just it on by the three women and they grabbed her ass. My eyebrow shoots up and I smirk not sure what to think. C seems to enjoy the attention so I dismissed it while she goes to get another beer. The third for the night. Her limit. A few hours pass and the club gets a bit more lively. C is a little high now but still pretty much sober and she decides to go dance with her new admirers.

The minute she started dancing with one of the ladies, five more move in like white on rice and it's suddenly an orgy. Breasts, hands and asses were up for grabs. I didn't even know this was a gay club. So I keep an eye on her in case she needs an out but the obvious elation on her face tells me otherwise. I eventually turn around and start dancing with Mr. S. C comes back mussed and grinning saying she's going for another drink. I ask her not to because I know she'll get drunk so she doesn't. We start dancing again. Having a good time. Giggling about C's mini orgy. When one of her neighbours suddenly shows up with another drink. Things quickly went downhill from there.

She takes the drink ( her last for the night) and sips it slowly. We continue dancing, her neighbour joins in, one of her new admirers join in and C is jacked against a wall sandwiched between the two. Suddenly, C puts her hand to her mouth and races to the bathroom. I follow because I know she's going to puke. She does. 5 times. This is where the party ends. I clean her up and take her to the pool room in the back where she can sit until she sobers up a bit. Mr. S sits next to us worried.

A minute later, we're back over the porcelain throne again. I close the door this time so that no one will see her. The knob soon turns and someone tries to get in. "Someone's in here" The person still tries opening it "Someone's in here" I say louder. It continues I yell this time " Fuck! Stop it There is someone in here" . It stops. I clean C up again and we open the stall door to get her to the sinks so she can wash her face. C's first admirer is standing there waiting for her. She starts asking me "Are you okay? Need me to take you home?" Staring at C a hungry look on her face. The nerve!

I roll my eyes and answers "Yeah, she's fine. She pukes when she's happy and she'll be going home with me". The bathroom door opens again. Two more. They chime in " We were looking all over for you (My cousin)" She shrugs and smiles groggily. The door opens again. Another one. I start to get worried because they all look like they want a piece of my poor drunk cuz. I put the meanest look I can muster on my face and push my way out of the tiny bathroom. My boyfriend is standing outside. He noticed them coming in droves. He wanted to make sure we were okay.

We got C some club soda and helped her downstairs to the outside of the club for some fresh air. Her Dad would be coming soon. We needed to sober her up. 3 cups of club soda and a bucket full of puke later she is drained and falls asleep on my lap. The hyenas kept coming outside looking for her. Her Dad was taking way too long to get there. So we took a ride from her neigbbour in his very compact vintage buggy, crammed ourselves in the back and I took her home. That's right, hyenas I took her home.. That's MY bitch.

I don't think I'll be going clubbing again anytime soon.

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Trini Legends and Folklore: Part 3- La Diablesse

9/24/2005 08:41:00 AM Edit This 1 Comment »

This is one of the most popular Legends of Trinidad and Tobago. The story of the La Diablesse is one of intrigue, sedcution and deception so it is easy to see why

'La Diablesse', the devil woman of Trinidad and Tobago folklore, is sometimes personified as an old crone, who steps forth with her cloven hoof from behind a tree on a lonely road, the sound of chains mingling with the rustle of her petticoat.

La Diablesse appears as a tall, handsome Creole woman who with swinging gait and erect stature.She has eyes like burning coals and a face resembling that of a corpse, but hides it under a beautiful wide-brimmed hat and a veil over her face. She may have a bag of bones, graveyard dirt and shells, she may cast a spell and be perceived as young and desirable, her rich perfume blending with the smell of damp and decaying things. Although she may appear young, she will be dressed in the ancient costume of these islands: a brilliant madras turban, chemise with half sleeves and much embroidery and lace, 'zepingue tremblant' (trembling pins of gold), and all the finery of by-gone days. Or the more modern dress of a blouse with puffy sleeves and long, petticoated skirts.

This creature is one of the most feared of all the legends of T&T as she, unlike other creatures, is not bound to the night.

In the daytime she passes through a cane or cocoa field at noon where her mysterious beauty catches the eye of a man who then proceeds to follow her but is never able to catch up with her because her feet hardly touch the ground. Soon finds himself lost, bewildered, far from home and he is never himself again.

She is even more fearsome when she roams at night. Hiding her cloven foot under her long skirts, she turns up at village dances, where she is immediately disliked by the women present. She utterly charms the men spinning tales of a majestic and refined life. Feigning weariness she asks one of her new suitors to take her home. He follows her obediently, totally under her spell.
She lures him deep into the woods and then suddenly she disappears. Unable to find his way home, the poor fellow stumbles around in the dark wood until he either falls (or is pushed) into a ravine or a river to his death or gets attacked by wild hogs or some other beast.
To discourage the attentions of the La Diablesse, the potential victim should wear his garments inside out. The reasons for this are believed to be a result of her being such a stylish dresser, that she will lose all interest and seek her victim elsewhere.

I assume this story is told often by parents to their sons to caution them of the wiles of women, which quite frankly, could turn out to be deadly.

Next Week: Mama D'Lo.

Credits go to The National Library of Trinidad and Tobago, Best Caribbean Holidays, David James (Colour Image) See more of his amazing art here and The Superstitions of Trinidad and Tobago (illustration).

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Fashionista in the making.

9/22/2005 09:30:00 PM Edit This 3 Comments »

Look, not everyone is a size -2 okay. Some of us have some meat on our bones. I've got some meat... with gravy...and my gravy doesn't fit in a half yard of fabric. I get so tired of having to drudge around from place to place to place looking for clothing that would cover BOTH my breasts. Shopping in Trinidad especially, is the WORST! Especially, if you are plus size. You always get stuck with dowdy, frumpy, generic "I'm-fat-so-let-me-in-a-tent" stuff. I'm friggin 20 years old Why the hell would I want to look like my grandmother. Jeez!

In my quest for clothing I have come across very few lucky finds but many, many hideous ones. I had even done a mini shoot for a friend of mine who was doing a article on plus size clothing in Trinidad and where to find it. She had asked me to be her model. The first store we went to was the run of the mill frumpy crap. What was interesting was the owner of the store and her passion for her Haute Couture tents. When my friend was doing the interview the owner was so enthusiastic it was hard not to get excited. She said has spent over 20 years in the clothing business and knows what people want. She said that she was the shopper for a successful company before she opened up her store. She expressed her disgust at plus size women wearing revealing clothing and demanded that they cover up from head to toe. And she had just the right tenting. I wouldn't let her shop for me if she tarred and feathered me, tied me up and placed me naked and wriggling on a railroad track with a train charging ahead.

The clothes were horrendous. Ugly and baggy and ..... Ugh! There was this one dress, a black and blue disaster with so many strings I wanted to hang myself. All of the clothing in the store were drab and shapeless. Business suits that I would make it my business to destroy, casual wear that I would never care to wear. Disaster upon disaster was piled upon me.

To make a long story short. I am grateful the pictures never made it to print.

Soooo.. I've decided to make and design my own clothes. My mum is a seamstress, she runs a little, but maniacally sucessful sewing shop from our home. I actually recycled an old jacket I had that I loved too much to throw away. When I was done mangling it, it looked awesome. If I had a digi cam I would have shown you. Soon I will be raiding local art stores for supplies and I shall make MYSELF fabulous. Jeans, tees, skirts, whatever. Versace ain't got notthin' with me.

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9/21/2005 12:22:00 PM Edit This 2 Comments »

I've been trying to write the same essay for that past 4 days. First essay of the semester and I've got block. I think I must have written the same paragraph over 10 times but it doesn't seem right. *sigh* *bangs head on desk*

*Update* Two hours later, still on same sentence. Had lunch (Chicken corn soup rocks) and now I am falling asleep on myself. Class is at nine tomorrow morning and I may have to read the essay to the class. At this rate, all that will be there is....

Student Id: 000000
Fundamentals of Politics
"What are the ingredients necessary for Politics to exist in Trinidad and Tobago?"

The ingredients necessary for Politics are

2 bickering political parties
1 inadequate Prime Minister
1 even more inept Oppostion Leader
1 country at the mercy of Morons
A handful of sycophantic fools who with iron clad and often ignorant Party Loyalty
1.5 million dissatisfied Trinidadians
0 Trinidadians doing anything about it
2 tablespoons get me the hell off this island
1 lb Screw this shit I'm going to Fiji.

Preheat oven to Fire and Brimstone.
Mix well, throw in a optional dash of corruption, kidnapping and crime to taste.
Serve immediately.

I think this is good enough, don't you?

Scratch that Fiji thing... I'm going to Chicago... where Oprah gives away Free Men. You gotta love her.

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Interdependent Woman

9/20/2005 08:54:00 PM Edit This 2 Comments »

I'm a college student living at home, leeching off my parents but I like to do things on my own. I like paying my on way, buying stuff for myself with my own money, paying my own bills. I am a living oxymoron.

I've been with my boyfriend, Mr. S, for a year and a half. We have been through so much together and I love him to death. But only recently (as in the last six months) really allowed or even asked him to pay my way. I was all for going Dutch or even paying for him on occasion, having a man pay for me was so taboo in my books. Even if he insisted, I'd insist that I pay for stuff the next time just to even the score. It was a bit of an obsession. This was me fooling myself into thinking I was independent, when back home, I sucked my parents dry.

I've become so comfortable with him, and frankly he should be happy about this, that I'd ask him to get me stuff on his way to come see me, like food or a DVD etc. Ordinarily, I'd starve before I did that. But now, I'm starting to think I may be overdoing it. To the point that I am feeling guilty about it.

All of this I only just realized today.

I have a problem with taking advantage of people. I am really very introspective and a firm believer in "Do unto others". I spoil my friends and close family. As in I'd buy them stuff for no reason, or pay for them to go see a movie and then buy them dinner. I enjoy doing this for those who deserve it. This doesn't seem to be much but please remember that I am working on a college student's allowance here. I do not get paid, I get an allowance. $40 TT a day (that is equivalent to a little more that $5 US) a little more if I beg. So really, this is me treating people extravagantly, on a very low budget. Gimme a break already. I come from a middle class family. My mum owns a little clothing store and my father, whose income I am no longer privy too, is a owns a small taxi service. Nothing special, nothing out of the norm. And I do understand the concept of working hard for what I get.

Of late I have noticed some, for lack of a better word, very large faults in some of the friends I keep. They have gotten so used to people, rather me, paying their way on occasion that they, suddenly and conveniently, run out of funds when I am around. And I, pushover that I am, always open my wallet and sacrifice myself for their sake. These Nosferatu frenemies bask in the luxury of my not-so-fat wallet, smile and laugh, then disappear when a problem arises. Unconcerned and pretensive. How very interesting. Me thinks it's time to pull off some parasites.

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I'm not racist, I have colour TV.

9/20/2005 02:05:00 AM Edit This 6 Comments »

I read this story today.

Let's take this in steps shall we?

"What's up with your shirt?"

Those are the words a former senior at Fleming Island High School remembers hearing as he walked from his fifth-period algebra class toward the gym. The 18-year-old, who is not being identified due to his family's concerns of safety, had just taken off his Dixie Outfitter T-shirt, exposing a highly offensive shirt.

"What about it?" replied the 18-year-old, skinny and white.

"Well, you know it's racial," said a black student, now in a group confronting the 18-year-old.

"Yeah. So?"

The undershirt the white student wore had a confederate flag on the front with the words "Keep it flying." On the back, a cartoon depicted a group of hooded Klansmen standing outside a church, waving to two others who had just pulled away in a car reading "Just married." Two black men in nooses were being dragged behind.

Firstly, how can you NOT see something wrong with a shirt depicting something like that. How twisted or just plain stupid must you be to wear that to SCHOOL where you know there are BLACK student who would be offended by it? How ignorant can you be that you would purchase something like that in the first place? How small minded and backward is this kid?

The white student said he left the school following a three-day suspension. He said he was supposed to go back on a Friday but school officials called and asked his family to keep him home until the following week because "the school's in an uproar."

"Everybody was threatening to come jump me, so we were like, whatever," he said. "So I'm not going to deal with it over some stupid shirt."

I wonder why, future Klansman?

Clay County school officials said the incident is isolated and both students involved were disciplined "quickly and appropriately," although they would not release specifics citing privacy concerns.

"There's no way you can prevent it when you've got students coming and bringing an attitude like that to school," said Ben Wortham, deputy superintendent.

(1) What exactly is quickly and appropriately? Does this also include quietly? Is this one of those things you would sweep under the rug? Hmmm?

(2) I'm torn on the deputy's statement. I know ignorance breeds hate and hate breeds ignorance but it doesn't seem like they are trying at all. That kid has a blatant case of I-don't-give-a-damn-itis and may be too far gone to stop him now, but didn't they notice symptoms of potential racism before.

"I'm not racist or anything," he said. "It's just, some people I hate, some people I don't get along with. And black people just happen to be the ones because they think they're better than everyone else."

So what the fuck is he? A martyr? The quote "A rose by any other name" comes flying to mind here. He hates black people because they think they are better than anyone else? What horseshit! What's the basis of that statement? What the hell has he been taught? Oh wait...

The student said his parents were shocked at his decision, Mom dismayed and Dad disappointed.

"I just can't believe you'd wear a shirt like that to school," he said was their reaction. "My mom was kind of upset about it. My dad was like, whatever, it's your life."

*Slap on the wrist* "Don't make fun of the colored folk in public, son. We taught you better than that. You know how ignorant and belligerent they get."
"Yes Pa!, I didn't think I'd be a big deal cause....

The 18-year-old said he has friends who are black, and he said he does not think they would be mad at him because they know he would not do what was depicted on the shirt
That always makes it better, doesn't it. But if he thinks black people think they are better than everyone else, what makes them different? Do they call you "Massa"? Or do they understand that....

"I'm a redneck," he said. "But no, I'm not racist."

Upset by the shirt, a 17-year-old black student hit the white student in the head. A crowd of about 100 students gathered to watch the Aug. 29 fight before authorities intervened
Frankly, FUCK YEAH! If you haven't guessed by now, I am a black female or for the politically correct few "Afro- Trinidadian female" He would have gotten a lot more than that where I come from. *No, I am not advocating violence, contrary to popular belief*

Let me digress for a moment here, how would you feel watching someone parade around in slanderous clothing, promoting lynching and fostering hate, around you as though nothing is wrong? The white student was asked if he knew the shirt was racist, and candidly replied "Yeah. so?" This isn't just one person he hates, it's an entire race of people. I think this goes beyond ignorance into something alot more disturbing. What would you have done in this situation? The black student acted instinctivelty, and no, I don't blame him. I do agree he could have lodged a complaint but what would that have done. Nothing. Even after the fight was over and the authorites took over it seems as though nothing but a slap on the wrist was given. Not from his parents, the school he attends ( he is being allowed back in) Lesser acts than this have solicited expulsion. Didn't this warrant the same?

There are so many thought running through my head on this issue right now but I'll leave with a quote and an open ended question...

The most powerful stimulus for changing minds is not a chemical. Or a baseball bat. It is a word. -George A. Miller
Do you think the black students were justified in wanting to beat the hell out of him? How would you have dealt with the situation?

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Pass me a Prozac

9/19/2005 12:03:00 PM Edit This 3 Comments »

This is my second semester at my university. A small, private, heavily competitive institution with students who are obsessed with grades, flip flops, high pitched voices, navel breakers and Daddy's Money. Needless to say, Hell, for someone who came from a laidback public high school that was more concerned with the football (soccer for you Americans) than grades. Not that I didn't do relatively well.

To put it bluntly, when you are 5'11, chubby and a bit of a bookwormish recluse.. you tend to stand out like a sore thumb. If I have to hear, "Wow, you are really tall" from one of those stunted banshees one more time I swear I'll pop a blood vessel.

The lecturers range from extremely soporific (amazingly snooze-worthy) to lively and a bit snooty. They have been spoiled rotten by all the whiny little know-it-all who have their noses stuck up their asses.

Other than that it's relatively bearable even fun on occasions thanks to the "characters" who make the date with fire and brimstone worthwhile.

In my Politics class, there was a certain individual, a scrawny boy with product soaked hair and baggy hip hop clothing who during the mandatory introductions, claimed that his hobbies were: Gaming, Arsony and Explosives. Coming soon after the Port of Spain bombings, of course, there was a collective gasp, a chuckle here and there (one came from me) and numerous people (the lecturer included) picking their jaws up off the floor. The lecturer, stunned, asked him to repeat what he said, disbelieving. The guy, in turn, repeated exactly what he had said with a mischievious grin plastered on his face. That was a true Kodak moment.

Right now, projects and essays are piling up, midterms shall soon be upon me, and I haven't a care in the long as I pop my Prozac.

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9/19/2005 06:33:00 AM Edit This 0 Comments »

Hey, I got smacked! (More like bitchslapped actually LOL) Here is my bad review from the ladies at Thanks Guys Posted by Picasa

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Would it hurt you?

9/18/2005 10:49:00 AM Edit This 1 Comment »

I came across this site PostSecret while reading Colin's Blog. It is "an ongoing community art project where people mail-in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard."
I started reading some of them when I came across this one...

Now I don't have a stepfather, a husband, or a wedding planned anytime soon for that matter but it got me thinking. My father and I don't have the best relationship. As of April of this year we don't have a relationship at all. I haven't found the courage yet to open up completely and say why we don't have one , maybe one day....

I do plan to get married of course. Most likely to my current boyfriend who is the best thing that has ever happened to me but, of course, that won't go over too well with dear old Daddy. Not that I really care what he thinks, I'm going to marry whoever the hell I want, but I digress...

The postcard made me think of whether or not he would walk me down the aisle or even be invited to the wedding. Frankly, my father fucked up. It's so strained right now I don't think I would ever forgive him for what he has did and continues to do to this day. There are people who would say "Quit bitching about it, your childhood is over and you should get over it" but how the fuck do you get over something or someone when they have become the proverbial thorn embedded deep into your ribcage and bleed you dry. Everytime, I heal it happens again and I am so fucking gullible I allow it to happen. Over and over again. Getting worse everytime. I can probably forgive in time, but to forget would be an injustice to myself. It would allow me to set myself up to have my dignity ripped to shreds and shoved up my ass wrapped in razorwire. Yes, it's that bad.

I have contemplated so many ways of getting revenge. Of evening the score, to hurt him like he hurt me. But what would that prove? That I am as bad as he is? That I am vindictive like he is? That I am following in his disatrous footsteps? It would be my greatest fear realized. But it seems so inevitable.

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Trini Legends and Folklore: Part 2 - The Douens

9/17/2005 07:52:00 AM Edit This 4 Comments »

In keeping with the promise I made, I shall continue the Trini Legends series on Saturdays from now on... until I run out of local superstitions to talk about.

This week belongs to the Douens.

By Definition

Douens are the spirits of children who have died before they were baptized and as such, they are fated to roam the forests of Trinidad, practising their wide repertoire of pranks. They take the form of naked children, never growing in excess of two or three feet in height. Their faces, which are featureless with the exception of a small mouth, are hidden behind a large, floppy, straw hat but, you can identify a Douen by his feet, which are turned backward, heels facing forward. Malicious little creatures, Douens take pleasure in luring normal children away from their homes and deep into the woods until they become lost. Parents are advised not to shout the names of their children in open places as Douens use this knowledge to entice young ones away. However mischievous they may be, Douens do have a good natured side. They have been know to aid Papa Bois in the forest by leading him to injured or trapped animals and imitating animal calls to throw hunters off track.

They are supposedly found in rural areas where there the source of their favourite food, Crayfish or River crabs, reside. Their footprints are very misleading due to the fact that they would be going in one direction and the prints would be facing the other way.

When I was younger I was given a book called Crick Crack by my godfather, it was filled with local superstitions. One of which involved the story of a man who was walking through the forest and came across a silk cotton tree. These trees have a reputation for being the gateway for Jumbies (a local word for ghosts and goblins). Under the tree, the man saw a baby crying and wriggling. Feeling sorry for the child he picked it up and decided to take it home where he and his wife would take care of it. It was a long way home and the man noticed that the child seemed to be getting heavier and larger with every step. Ignoring it , he kept shifting the child about his body so that he would he able to carry him better. Eventually, he moved the now very large child to his back when the "child" suddenly started choking him and in a very deep, manly voice chanted "Put meh back where yuh find meh!" The man, eyes bulging, ran all the way back to the tree. On his way back, the thing reverted to it's original size and fell asleep when he placed it, once again, under the silk cotton tree.

That story used to scared the shit out of me. Still does every time I read it.

This particular superstition, I have heard many other stories about from family and friends who claim to have encountered them. My closest cousin, claimed to have seen one while going for a walk around the hills where she lives. She was passing a large stretch of grass, when she noticed a large straw hat moving about in them. She stopped and observed for a while, then (for what reason I don't know) called out to the "person". It stopped and looked around and she claimed to see nothing but a gaping mouth and then it started coming toward her. Of course she ran screaming all the way home and has never been back that way since.

Another claimed to have encountered it on the way home from school and it tried to draw him into the bushes. But he noticed it's backward feet and ran in the other direction.

Also here is a poem written by Lauren K. Alleyne

That's all for now.
Next week, the La Diablesse.

Credits for the definition go to Best Caribbean Holidays.

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Hello Stranger.

9/16/2005 07:14:00 AM Edit This 5 Comments »

It's amazing how you can know someone for 5 years and not know a damn thing about them. Maintaining friendships, seeing them and talking to them almost everyday for two years, talking to them on the phone every once in a while and seeing and speaking them at almost every get together you have had for the past 3 years. You run in the same circles, you have the same friends, you have more or less the same interests... but you don't know squat about them.

But it takes one night, and instant messaging program and a bad incident and suddenly you see aspects of the person you never though existed. You are intrigued, shocked, surprized and relieved all at the same time. This person is more like you than you had ever dreamed. You see them in a new light and pat yourself on the back for knowing how to choose friends. This is a friend you intend to keep for life.

I will never divulge the information I was amazed and honoured to be privy too. But I had to write something. It was nice to Finally meet them. These are the moments I live for.

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Honesty is no longer the best policy? I didn't get that memo.

9/14/2005 08:09:00 AM Edit This 6 Comments »

Forgive my idealism but where has honesty gone? Where have all the good people in this world disappeared to? Have they been shipped off to some newly discovered planet where entry is permissible only though genuine politeness or something?

I lost my cell phone last night. I am notoriously absentminded so I blame this on myself. I was sitting on a bench in front of a bank talking to my boyfriend. I had just texted someone and must have put it down beside me and forgot about it when we were on our way back home. I realized I missed it only 2 minutes later and hurried back to see if by some miracle of human nature it was still there. We were calling it frantically on the way back hoping someone would answer (now that I think of it, that was probably a stupid move as it would draw attention to it).

When we got there, there was no sign of it. Only a trio of people sitting on the other bench talking. One man in the trio looked very suspicious (Intuition or paranoia I know not what it was) as he had his hands firmly in his pocket looking very uncomfortable. My phone lights up and vibrates when rung. So there was one of two possibilities, (1) He was trying to hide the ringing phone in his pocket or (2) was pleasuring himself in public. Neither seemed palatable. Nonetheless, my boyfriend asked them if they saw the phone and we got the expected answer o "no".

We continued calling the phone hoping that the person was honest enough to answer but eventually they shut the phone off. Evil cocksuckers! I called again this morning and it rang only to be cut off by the third ring and completely shut off by the next call 5 seconds later. Apparently, they enjoyed raping my meager minutes the night before, well into the morning.

To add insult to injury, I called the phone company (TSTT), yes, we only have one right now and they enjoy flexing their monopolistic muscles with horrible service and astonishingly high prices. After spending more than an amalgamation of three hours on hold, listening to horrible music and repetitive advertisements, I finally was able to speak to an agent. Unfortunately, I was informed that since the phone was not under my name (it was given to me as a gift) I was unable to disconnect or even block outgoing calls! WTF! I am sure as hell not paying that bill the end of the month!

My conclusion to this story is a question. Where have all the honest people gone? Has honesty been outmoded by combativeness and the mentality of "survival of the fittest"? Are 'Good Samaritans" a myth? Should I hunt down the asshole that stole my phone and take an axe to them?

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Trini Legends and Folklore

9/10/2005 12:21:00 PM Edit This 3 Comments »

For those of you who do not know, I am a Trinidadian (from Trinidad and Tobago in theCaribbean) and proud of it. Admittedly, I haven't really been giving much information on my country and it's culture, which as rich, beautiful and diverse as the island itself. So I am going to change that. Of course, you shouldn't expect my blog to turn into a Tourist Ad fro T&T. Far from it. In fact, I like talking about myself too much to change.

Anyway, to start I will share some of our local legends and superstitions with you. Actually just one today. If it solicits enough response I will make it a regular thing on Saturdays.

So the first is a legend called the Soucouyant (pronounced soo-coo-yah), or in Jamaica as Ol' Higue. Our version of the Vampire.

She is generally described as an old woman who lives alone at the end of the village road, seldom seen, her house always closed up as she sleeps away the day. She is said to have made a pact with the devil for eternal life. Her daylight exhaustion is well earned, however, for the Soucouyant's nights are sadly spent. In exchange for her longevity, she must shed her human skin each night and change into animal form, or that of her customary ball of fire.

While in her transformed state, she has the power to turn other people into animals, to increase the yield of crops, or make them wither. Before each night is over, though she must target one victim and suck out their life-force (or, blood depending on legends) to refresh her spirit for the next day. She must also slip back into her human skin before the cocks begin to crow the dawn. Should she be unable to return into her skin, she is trapped in her altered state without benefit of her powers during the daylight hours.

Her skin is usually hidden in bushes or trees or deposited into a mortar, and the myth goes on that if one fills the Soucouyant's skin with salt she will be unable to return into her flesh for a number of days, and even then it will cause her great pain and would likely scream "skin, kin, kin, you na no me, you na no me", she sings, crooning softly, pleading to the wrinkled, dreadful thing. "You na no me, old skin" as it (her skin) falls away from her and shrinks. Anyone foolish enough to do such a disservice to the Soucouyant, however is likely to find themselves turned into some manner of creepy, crawling creature before long, or, even more likely, as her meal the following night.

To reveal a Soucouyant, one must empty 100 lbs of rice at the village crossroads where she will be compelled to pick it up one grain at a time or beat her black and blue in her fiery state; the next morning she will be revealed as a severely bruised old woman.

So there you have it, our version of a Vampire with O.C.D.

What are the local legends of your country?

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I'm a dirty Trini Skitzo that's pimping lesbians with camel toe.

9/09/2005 09:26:00 AM Edit This 0 Comments »

And I'm encouraging the perverts. These are the top 13 searches I have had recently. Oy vey!

  1. "aversion to cleaning" psychology (Google)
  2. amazing sex change (Yahoo)
  3. girl voyeurs (Yahoo)
  4. Katherine Moennig tattoo (MSN)
  5. little skirt showing ass (MSN)
  6. my camel toe is showing (MSN)
  7. pic of sarah shahi (MSN)
  8. skitzophrenic (MSN)
  9. trinidad girl italian man relationship (Yahoo)
  10. trinidadian slang (Yahoo)
  11. true voyeurs (Yahoo)
  12. VOUYERS (Yahoo)
  13. young girls camel toe showing (Yahoo)

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When birds attack

9/08/2005 10:23:00 PM Edit This 4 Comments »

I hate birds. Don't be decieved by their looks and the gentle way they are portrayed on television. That is nothing but false, malinformed propoganda. Birds are evil. They are noisy, agressive, annoying and they shit on you. I've been attacked and shat upon so many times it's dizzying. After being chased by a turkey at 5 years old, attacked by pigeons as a teenager and nearly impaled by vicious blackbirds, I really fucking hate 'em.

I got planted just today while talking to some of my friends in the most public place in Trinidad on the busiest time of day. Those winged bastards have no mercy. In Italy, that is supposed to be a good omen. To me, wiping seedy, sticky bird shit out of your newly washed hair is ... well... shitty. And the bastard, not the birds, just laughed at me. I saw red to say the least.

I am also in an ongoing battle with some brown doves that keep trying to take up residence in my house. Every few days they would fly into our large, usually open windows, fly around and shit on everything. Not stuff you can clean easily either. The really gross white and green piles of steaming bird crap. Everywhere. When you try to shoo them away they either fly straight at your face like the psychotic ones in "Birds" or face plant into the windows much like that Windex Commercial. They never seem to be able to tell which windows are open. Bloody idiots. The phrase birdbrain is definitely not a stereotype.

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The fidelity of friendship: Moving up and moving on

9/07/2005 04:16:00 AM Edit This 1 Comment »

I'm not a loner or a hermit but I am a bit of a recluse when it comes to friends, these days especially. You know people who use the word associate and acquaintance to describe relationships, I'm one of them. To me, I have 1 boyfriend, 2 best friends, 2 very good friends, few associates and many acquaintances.

I'm the type of person that chooses friends for life rather than an unknown period of time. In my opinion, I am a pretty good judge of character and can sum up a personality after about 3 conversations. I'm like this because I am fickle with trust. I trust so easily to begin with, with no qualms or regrets, but if someone breaks my trust it is near impossible to regain.

I have had the same friends since the beginning of high school up till now. Some falling into oblivion on the way but resurfacing every once in a while. Some have gone away to college but we keep in touch. I never realized how attached I was to some of them until they left and moved on without me.

I always assumed that when this whole college thing was over that it would go right back to the way it was before. I've lied to myself worse before so it felt credible. I always thought that it would be the way it was in Secondary school. Doing everything and nothing at the same time. Sharing lives, the way we used to. At one point, we knew everything about each other. So close it was almost intuitive. No words we necessary. The three of us, I thought were inseparable. Like I said. I lied to myself worse before.

I never realized how much I clung to that friendship. Needing it like the living need air. I deluded myself into thinking we would be this way forever. That even if our lives did go separate ways we could always pick up where we left off as though it never changed. As though we were still the same people we were back then. Now I wonder if they've moved on or moved up.

You know that friend you've had before you could remember. The one who is always reminiscing about the good times you had. What is was like before. How great things were. The friend that was stuck in that time capsule. Whenever you talk to them, it a continuous walk down memory lane and you feel like they don't add anything new to your life. The friendship is stuck and boring like a stick in the mud. Yeah?? Well, I'm that friend.

Everyone around me is doing new things, leading new lives... Getting somewhere. Doing all the things that I would love to do. Living life. Adding to themselves. Whenever they need a fix of the "good old times" they come to me. Whenever they need a tether to the life they had: Time Capsule friend is there. Quite possibly, a necessary evil.

I know nothing about my friends anymore. Well, I know stuff about them. I know what they are doing with their lives and sometimes everyday activity. But I know nothing of their character anymore. They've all grown without me and I'm still a shrub amidst trees. The little sapling that could. Loyal to the end. The one that's easy to leave behind while they all move up and on.

Dammit, now I've gone and depressed myself.

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Katrina post.

9/06/2005 01:57:00 PM Edit This 0 Comments »

I am trying very, very hard to stay mum on the tragedy and the controversy it has uncovered. I am doing very well so far but I'm not so sure how long it will last.

Until then, See Steve Rant. He articulated it the best way possible.

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9/06/2005 09:31:00 AM Edit This 2 Comments »

I have changed my template once again, for the 6th time this year. Got it at Francey.Org. Great site for linkware designs for the HTML hopeless like myself.

Let me know what you think. Still some editing to be done.

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Extracurricular activities for the overworked, underpaid , dissatisfied and homicidal employee

9/03/2005 07:19:00 PM Edit This 0 Comments »

Postal Workers need not apply.

Finally an outlet for the anger.

I especially love the little panic button on the side.

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I know they said Cat Woman was a shitty movie

9/03/2005 06:58:00 PM Edit This 3 Comments »

But DAMN!!!!

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I'm feeling generous

9/03/2005 11:37:00 AM Edit This 1 Comment »

Here are some links to videos I like. All Rock today just cause I'm in that kinda mood.

Freak on a Leash-Korn
Did My Time - Korn
Crawling - Linkin Park
Somewhere I Belong- Linkin Park
Faint- Linkin Park
Place in my head (live) -Linkin Park
Wait and Bleed- Slipknot
Down with the Sickness- Disturbed
Push it- Static X
Toxicity- System of a Down

BYOB- System of a Down

Chop Suey- System of a Down

Commercial they may be, but I love them anyway.


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