It hasn’t been quite my creative phase yet, these past few weeks. First I tried to cheat with some arbit pics; and then I thought I’d cheat with some of my Twitter stuff (the #sss series) and got too busy or bored with that.
And, then there was the Buzz.
By Buzz, I don’t only mean the social media arrogation of Google, which sought, in its defense, to connect strangers with complete strangers. Oh, what IS social media for anyway. I mean, Google should decide to allow random access without so much as by your leave, AFTER the friendly neighbourhood Facebook was nearly defaced when users strongly objected to privacy clauses being tweaked. Because the Google God has created only the smartest geeks on the planet and they would, on day 1, no, make that Day ZERO, quickly run to settings and shut themselves off from pesky l’etrangers and l’escargos, including perv ex-husbands.
After struggling with annoying buzzes on my Gmail screen during the time I attempted to understand the extent of Google’s excesses, I gave up and simply turned it off. Okay, my status messages are still visible across the spectrum of contacts who may, in their unwisdom, continue to keep Buzz turned on and follow me. The time will surely come, when I have the time and inclination to do this. OR worse still, an occasion.
That’s most of that Buzz solved. But the bleeding buzz, literally, tortures the body and soul at night. I mean, have you seen them buzzards? Fat, bursting with your anemic blood?! They’re so well fed, four of them together might yet be able to carry you off to some slimy, stagnant pool where they lay their eggs. Like in Scream Yeah, the ones that breed in slush are the night monsters, the day monsters apparently live in clear-ish puddles and give you chikungunya and dengue. And for chrissakes, don’t they know we’re in summer already, advancing already to peak season? What, say, are mosquitoes doing in Chennai in weather that could burn skin off your nose.
The Chinese are brilliant, yes, and they have invented the next-best-thing-after-the-western-closet – the electric mosquito bat that simply fries em up. Things have been going steadily downhill since last season’s bat gave up the ghost with one last smelly frizzle. I need to buy another. Already. Squashing’s a tough job, plus it’s bloody, messes up the floor and furniture, is inaccurate, and probably unscientific. I will, yes. Buy another. But meanwhile, is it too much to wish that the little critters would just buzz off with the heat?
wii fit should make one of those mosquito bat thing games… fitness and health!