Monday, November 27, 2006
Don't you ever hurt Nanna, the most sensitive and mellowdrama girl in this already dramacus world.
Because it's not very good to see what happens after Nanna cries or mumbles or shouts.
"Why is that?" Ok it's not you asking, but yes someone was asking, so I'd better answer.
"Because Nanna could be really blue," I answered.
"Everybody can be blue when they're sad," someone answered back.
"It's different," I answered back back. "Nanna could be obviously blue, like the blue shirt or blueberry jam or blue car."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" You finally shouted. (yes, YOU. You. The one who is reading this weird capsule called computer like right now)
I cleared my throat. "Nanna's hair becomes blue, her eyebrows become blue, her lips become blue, her eyeballs become blue, her freckles become blue, her pimples become blue...and her heart (if you could ever X-ray her body) also becomes blue."
"Roses are red,
Nanna is blue,
Sugar is sweet
and so are you"
Anybody doesn't get this story interesting raise your hand!
No!No! Put it down. Just pretend you like it, because Nanna could be really sad if she finds out this story about her doesn't goal your satisfaction. You don't want to make her blue ait....
"Do I really look like a bull?" Jan suddenly asked his friend, Moore, while they were eating banana pancakes for breakfast at The Low Budget Cafe, the right cafe for taxi drivers, constructing workers, or magazine sellers. Jan and Moore are taxi drivers.
Moore snickered. "Man, I don't know...your nose is yes like a bull, but all the girls tell me you're cute. So don't you ever think about nip/tucking your bully nose. Since we won't spend our money for that inhumanity job. Right?"
Jan shrugged. "I just can't stand those eyes staring at my nose. This big, this bully, and this scary nose. I don't feel completed."
Moore didn't really understand his bestbud's last words.
Jan thought for a while, then he pointed his finger to the sky.
Moore stared up to the ceiling. "What?"
Jan rolled his eyes. "No, it's not about the ceiling. I just got an idea. I'll be back. Catch you later after our last shift HERE." Then he ran outside the cafe.
Moore only rubbed his perfect nose. "Thank God you're normal, my lovely nose. You're normal."
Eight hours later Moore has already been seated nicely at the cafe. He was terribly curious of what Jan might have done to his bully nose.
Ten minutes later, the cafe was buzzing like bugs.
A guy just walked into the cafe with his smiling face. Someone famous and perfectly handsome.
"Tom Cruise is in the house!" someone whispered from Moore's back.
Moore was now staring closely. Yes, it's Tom Cruise walking into this low-budget cafe. Where's Katie Holmes? No around?
Less than in a minute, Tom Cruise has stood up in front of Moore's face. "Moore..it's me, dude."
Moore shook his hand. "Yes, Tom. I know you. But...hey..you know me???"
This time Tom Cruise pointed his nose. Perfect nose. "I've changed myself to this guy named Tom Cruise. I'm Jan, stupid."
Moore almost choked his cigarette into his throat. "Holy cow!!! How come???"
Jan laughed. "I just talked to the real bull at the Oxteen Farm. I told that fucking bull to let me surrender this bully nose. He agreed and I suddenly became this fucking Tom Cruise in less than three minutes. No, it's actually four minutes."
Moore still almost choked himself. "You're telling me a bull shit!"
Jan/Tom Cruise nodded. "Yes, bull shit actually happens. And it's no bull shit."
Moore didn't have more words to say about bull thing.
Under that one big sky, people live differently. Someone is now making mustard sauce, other someone is buying a fish, other someone is walking his new dog, other someone is kissing other someone on the mouth, and Filipi is now hunting for a flower called "strada".
Her teacher told her that there's no such a thing as "strada" flower, or "strada" plant, or "strada" grass, but Filipi kept her wonderland mind inside her head. There is such a thing as "strada" flower, she said.
Filipi has been walking inside the jungle for 3 hours. Without companion, without food, without I-pod, and even without map.
She was really craving for that "strada" flower. Why?
It is because "strada" flower can make your lips popping up. Filipi loves pop-ups, from children pop-up storybook to pop-up birthday card. Now, she wants her lips to pop-up like those charming stuff. How could she ever get an idea about "strada" flower then? It's all from "kolk bug" pill. Guess what, I think you've given up all of her wonderland mind eh. Just forget it. Maybe this time we should better just leave it up to Filipi.
"I found it! I found it!" Filipi yelled to herself, and two squirrels not too far from her spot. "I found my "strada" flower!"
It's black, sometimes purplish under the lightest sunshine, and smells like a birthday card.
Filipi couldn't hide her glorifying laughters. "See! See! It's "strada" flower."
Then Filipi rubbed the flower all over her mouth as it was a lipgloss. Then...in 6 seconds, Filipi's lips felt like pumping and pumping...and she could feel it now. They're now popping up!
Filipi now got pop-up lips.
"Friends," said Filipi with her funny lips. "Since i've achieved this "strada" flower, now I want to look for "hugebell" fruit. It can grow up a pair of wings from your ribs."
Here Filipi goes again.
That one day, Rein was eating pop corn in front of her 20" television, watching no good shows, listening to old buzzing radio next to her couch, moving-up-and-moving-down eyelids, shrieking Sam that little puppy, beating roofs of discoing mice, and on-and-off lamp on the desk. Rein wasn't an inspiring person, but she got this bow tie named Louisa, totally a trophy! She always wore Louisa to make sure that she still got someone to tight with.
Suddenly her cell phone rang. Rein was as shocked as she's once seen a wild cat wearing G-string around its butt and walking slowly like a stoned ho.
Her phone rang again. She never expected someone to give her a call outside office hour. She got nobody to talk to, usually, and now she had to pick up the reality.
Someone (a man): Hi, you're Rein?
Rein: Who's this? Maybe you wish to call another Rein? There's also other Rein in my office. Rein Dass, she's the sales director. We split up customers sometimes, maybe--
Someone: I think I'm calling the right Rein. You're Rein Ortogello?
Rein (getting dizzy): What do you want, Sir?
Someone: I'm Stephen, I think we've met before. Remember? At Comfort Mart?
Rein: The guy with brown curly hair and lime green tennis shirt?
Stephen: Aha! You remember! Hi, how are you?
Rein: Are you still working as Comfort Mart's cashier?
Stephen (coughing): erhg..yes, Rein. But I'm the head of all the cashiers.
Rein: where did you get my number?
Stephen: You filled in that survey, and gave it to me. I just copied your phone number. Hope you're not mad?
Rein: You always do this to every customer? Bad you.
Stephen (as he looked to other 34 surveys with 34 names of single ladies on his lap): Yes.
Rein: (hung up the phone)
Stephen: I mean... no. damn!
Stupid Stephen calling, and Stephen couldn't do a simple white lie. Guess what, Rein almost dropped her frozen heart to that playboy head of cashier. So thank God that Stupid Stephen couldn't do a white lie.