The Delicate Art of Thumb Twirling

For the record, there IS such a thing as the "Art of Thumb Twirling"--and I would know, since I am the official founder of the "Edthumb Method" (I am still working on the name...). Anyway, I thought I would share my secrets with all of you, sitting mindlessly at your computers, lost as to the meaning of life. Lemme tell ya, I've been there (thanks to my current internship at DeVito/Verdi), and I have finally discovered life's best well-kept secret:

Thumb-twirling.


Sure, it doesn't sound very impressive... but you would be dead wrong if you were to underestimate the intricacies of this hush-hush activity. As a matter of fact, just two days ago, I had to explain how mentally taxing the presumed "simple" task was to a friend over msn. Needless to say, he was not at all prepared for the apparent demands of this form of meditation:

jawz@home, working says: oh help me find some stats...
jawz@home, working says: this one is hard to find... ><
jawz@home, working says: malaysia's monthly life insurance premium since april, 2004
me: >.>
me: you do know I too have work to do while I'm at work <.< [note: Here by "work" i mean thumb-twirling, of course~]
jawz@home, working says: no u don't.... [note: Never underestimate the art...]
jawz@home, working says: u're just twirling ur thumb [note: "JUST"?! The nerve!! ...and apparently he's psychic]
me: twirling with grace, I might add...
jawz@home, working says: yes now... please gracefully use ur graceful fingers to search for the figures for me...
me: I'm sorry. Twirling my thumbs takes up all of my fingers'time
jawz@home, working says: but u know... u need use some of ur other fingers too... or else they'll be numb... so might as well give ur graceful thumbs a break
me: My other fingers provide the necessary anchor and stability for my thumbs to twirl ever so gracefully
jawz@home, working says: they're not moving...
jawz@home, working says: hence numbage
me: and they should stay that way if my thumbs were to continue to twirl gracefully
jawz@home, working says: but u know they want to know the insurance premium for malyasian life insurance sooo badly
me: unfortunately my brains are not located in my thumbs
me: ...and yes, I have multiplie "brains"
jawz@home, working says: er
jawz@home, working says: i dun get it ><
me: I don't know what that means either >.>
jawz@home, working says: keke
jawz@home, working says: so u found it already?
me: you wish
jawz@home, working says: ah u fool
jawz@home, working says: go away lol

Indeed, practitioners of this art are often ignorantly labelled as "fools". Us thumb-twirlers must bear the scorn of society as our fingers dance in the shadows of corporate offices everywhere.



Therefore, my dear friends, if you ever get a chance to hear more about or, by golly, witness this delicate art, consider yourself blessed. Jawz@home, working had that opportunity slip through his fingers (EDIT: literally).

That was his mistake.

You Got a Little Ugly on Your Face

Someone today made it quite clear Bubba is not blessed with the looks:

"She said you were ugly....but smart"



--And this wasn't the worst part. The deadly-flying-uppercut-knockout-blow came from the fact that the comment was said so as-a-matter-of-factly--with so much conviction--that it was as if no euphemism or lingual embellishment could save me from the starkly truth.

"....yeah, she can be straightforward at times..."



The point is painstakingly clear: 'You got a little ugly on your face', now get over it! Not that I am particularly obsessed with appearances, but I've always secretly wished--even sometimes believed--I was somehow dating-supermodels worthy. What I lacked in monetary wealth and rugged-good looks, I made up for with my wit and charm. I've almost convinced myself that my sarcastic bitterness can be very attractive (when the lighting's just right, of course!). The rest of the world, however, seems to disagree.

"....but she did say you were smart..."



Ouch. Rub it in, will ya? And to think, both the messenger and the critic have already tried to find something redeemable in my stubborn insistence on continuing to breathe: my intelligence.

Ok, Bubba glad Bubba not dumb rock, but damn... UGLY?

That's harsh.

Kill Bubba

My name is Bubba. Bubba is me. Me am Bubba. Bubba likes play fiddle. Bubble poke bastards with sticks. Ergo, Bubba fiddlesticks.

If you come make fun of Bubba, Bubba sad. Bubba no like. No hurt Bubba or Bubba hurt you comme les merdes. Bubba's stick Hattori Hanzo make. Kill Bubba? Bubba laugh:

Bubba was five and she was six,
we rode on horses made of sticks.
She wore black and Bubba wore white,
she would always win the fight.

BANG! BANG!
She shot Bubba down
BANG! BANG!
Bubba hit the ground
BANG! BANG!
That awful sound...

BANG!
BANG!

My baby shot Bubba down.



...But Bubba again rise, no die.
This is Bubba's "House of Flying Sticks".


IRRASHAIMASE!