Do you know how this was supposed to go?


So, I kinda managed to maim my left arm. How did you manage to do that, you ask? Short answer- I fell off a running treadmill, my hand got wedged under the belt and I couldn’t use my left hand for 2 weeks. There’s no long answer. As a consequence, I have had a startlingly, excitingly and positively tingly new excuse to put off writing a new post, despite the amazing post titles that line my dashboard with the content part empty, looking solemn under the brilliant headings. I’ve decided to give free reign to my inner environmentalist and recycle some old content. Besides, posting love stoires always seems to garner more attention than my witty commentary on American Television shows. So without further ado, here’s a tale I wrote some years ago, not based on fact or anything that really ever happened, but, you know it does have snippets of inspiration from real life, as most tales do:


I want to ask you this, out of curiosity more than anything else. From what I’ve heard, what happened and what should have happened are two very different things. 

We were supposed to bump into each other on a rainy day, you would pick up the books you had knocked out of my hand and we’d smile at each other, shy from under a shared umbrella. I met you at a bar, a shady one at that. 

Apologies were to have been exchanged, and then you would proffer an offering of peace, coffee perhaps. I bought you the drink at the bar, upon encouragement from a close personal friend.

You would pay for it like a gentleman, waiving my enthusiastic protests, and in a manner that is both cute and awkward you would ask for my number. I didn’t give you my number. You didn’t ask for it, you sipped the drink I’d bought you and flashed me a grin from across the room.

You would call three days later after a couple of casual texts, and ask me to coffee again. I would say yes, and spend three hours worrying about what to wear-something sexy, but also cute. I watched you make your way to me, striding casually, gaze fixed on me, hungry. You leaned into my ear, to make a whispered proposition, one I couldn’t refuse.

You would ask me about myself – my family, what I do and my interests. You would feign interest occasionally and more often than not you would like everything everything I had to say. I blushed at the forwardness of your proposition, squirmed on the bar stool and looked away. 

You would smile and answer my queries about you in return, as you pour me a glass of wine. I made to get off the bar stool, when my close personal friend interrupted me. She convinced me that your proposition wasn’t in my best interests and that, come morning I wouldn’t be happy with it. I accepted her flawless logic, and with that I bade you a remorseful farewell, not without slipping you my number.

I would smile when I see your name on my phone, I would re-read your messages and feel warm and fuzzy inside. You messaged me alright, and I did re-read those messages, not once, but many times. 

So, time would fly, when not spent in each other’s company. A couple of months later, something brought us together again. It wasn’t fate, I checked. You just came to that bar often, and everytime you did you would text me to come meet you.

We would meet each other’s families, exchange pleasantries and gifts even.You whispered the same proposition, this time knowing me only little more than you did last time. There was no one to talk sense into me this time, with a kiss the deal was sealed. 

Schedules would me drawn up, Christmas with myfolks, Thanksgiving with yours. We did draw up a schedule- no strings attached was the only rule, that’s what I assumed. I didn’t ask, it occurred to me, sure, but I didn’t ask. 

You would ask me to move in with you, give me a key to your apartment maybe. Or maybe we would get a house that is “ours” in the suburbs. It’s called a ‘Booty call’ apparently, what we were doing. I was amused, it was fun and fun was always a good thing. 

We would check in with each other everyday, maybe twice even. I’d call you, tell you to get take out for dinner, or just maybe let you know I’d be home late from work. I knew what you did for a living-an artist, that was the extent of my knowledge, you knew even less about me. I would ask, as a friend of course, you replied courteously, but never with the enthusiasm I expected. It’s been 6 months since we last spoke. I keep count, but I won’t pick up the phone. 

You would start acting funny, I would wonder if you were cheating on me, until I find a ring in a shoe-box hidden in your closet. You would propose, I would accept. There would be champagne, the company of family, friends and acquaintances. None of my friends knew you existed, mostly I am glad for that. You were my dirty little secret, and I yours. The sneaking around was fun. I haven’t deleted your number, but someday soon the courage will come. When 6 months grow to a year. 

There would be a wedding to plan-flowers,cake, bridesmaids’ dresses. I used to be married a long time ago, that went to hell. He cheated on me, that’s why I was at that bar 6 months ago. In 6 months, I’ve turned down 5 men, who could have been Mr.Rachel. I don’t owe you anything, I don’t have to be faithful to you. It was in the contract. Then why?

I would see you standing at the end of that aisle, smiling like I’m all you ever wanted. I would walk slowly, in pace with my father, eager to get to you, seeing our whole life ahead of us. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”. I do, love you.  


Fast 6


So I saw the movie some time ago and as usual I am not gonna review it or anything, because like I said, that’s what rotten tomatoes, imdb and coupla zillion other sites and bloggers are for. I do what I do what I do that I do- mock, ridicule, question and make accusations. In this movie however there was so much to mock and so much to ridicule and just SO much inconsistency plot-wise that I was left with just one thought.

Can’t you just picture The Rock as Hobbes the Tiger, ignore the treacherous bitch next to him in the picture.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the movie- high-speed car chases, explosions, Vin Diesel driving some petrol cars, that evil dude who looks like Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s evil British twin Hoit Gordon-Levitt.



Luke Evans aka Less-cute, more Evil

Luke Evans aka Less-cute, more Evil










Add to that, the fact that I kept picturing The Rock as a fluffy tiger and well I was pretty much winded from rolling on the floor of the theater laughing. I also got a good workout kicking the guy in front of me who kept shoving his seat into my knee.


Fuck Yeah JGL

Also in case they take down that awesome video here’s the gist


Note to Self: Must watch Magic Mike

Speaking of which, double bonus, you lucky dog you! So maybe your boss is a stingy li’l Theon Greyjoy type person and the bonus he promised you this year came in the form of a ‘Thank you for being a wonderful Employee’ Hallmark card, you should just Channing all over his um, just watch this, it’ll cheer you up. Boys, Olivia Munn is in there too.

That’s just super


As hard I made it for you to guess the theme here, it’s superman. I’ve never been a huge fan of the tale. I like my superheroes, like I like my food- hot, spicy with a hint of saucy. Iron-Man RDJ fits the bill perfectly with the playboy, your-opinion-is-irrelevant attitude


I am a MARVEL girl, for real. When I was born, the doctors said ‘She’s a marvel this one, you are the luckiest parents alive.’ I also like the Marvel comics. X-Men ftw. My biggest dream as a kid was to be Rogue especially when I started watching X-Men Evolution. She was the brooding face of my earliest blog and continues to be my favorite comic-book character for reasons that probably extend beyond her wardrobe.

Like I said, probably.

Which brings us to Man of Steel or does it? Well before we get to that, I just have like a small subset of the million things I have to say, that I have to list.

Best Lois ever- Erica Durance

Pitbull on a pantleg

Best Lois & Clark ever- Teri Hatcher & Dean Cain

They have Chemistry and Dean Cain is just chilled out and funny and doesn’t spend all his time brooding in a barn.

Hottest Superman or blur or whatever- Tom Welling Hands down

That’s not from Smallville, it’s from when he was an Abercrombie model, but so cute and hot. It can’t be easy to be both those things at the same time.

But here’s a ranking  if you wanna see the contenders or if you’re one of those people who finds Daniel Craig attractive.

Man of Steel- the real story

So my best friend calls me when the movie was still in production and is like ‘OMG WE HAVE TO GO FOR IT!’ and I’m like sure, but why so much enthusiasm, shouldn’t you attempt to curb it and then well:

1.She tells me Henry Cavill is superman. I’m like who is that?

She tells me Henry Cavill is superman. I'm like who is that?

2. After I Google Henry Cavill

After I Google Henry Cavill

3. She tells me Amy Adams is playing Lois Lane

It takes me a while to get over that one.

4. It takes me a while to get over that one 

She tells me Amy Adams is playing Lois Lane

5. We debate what the casting director was thinking and question his/her better judgement about the Amy Adams decision

We debate what the casting director was thinking and question his/her better judgement about the Amy Adams decision

6. I start watching the movie and Henry Cavill comes on screen 

sooo hot

7. We can’t help ourselves as we watch the culmination of manly perfection despite his terrible acting

low how big he is with sush

8. Amy Adams comes on screen 

amy adams comes on screen

9. Amy Adams has lines.


10. Then Jonathan Kent has to go and die.

Jonathan dies

11. Every time Henry went off screen 

everytime henry went off screen

12. When I realize the guy who plays the good(mostly) Dr.Emil Hamilton on Smallville is playing the Dr’s assistant- Officer Sekowsy, in the movie

omg the mil from smallville is the fake emil s assitant in this movie thatss so fucked up

13. My friend when I point this fact out to her


14. Amy Adams and the sexy new supes start making out almost as randomly as Ron and Hermione in the last Harry Potter movie

amy adams kissing hc

15. I find out that they’re planning on making this a trilogy

say what now

16. Henry Cavill comes back on screen yelling and flying and seemingly devoid of any actual lines

tell me i m pretty

17. Amy Adams starts talking again

no i dont wanna hear it

18. I remember the trilogy thing and ask God WHY they do such things


19. I start praying for mercy and that by some miracle Christopher Nolan will MAKE more Batman movies and not lend a producer credit to “meh”inducers like this movie and start muttering in frustration

why cant you just make more batman

20. Finally, I go to seek solace in galleries of Tom Welling

me at TW



More elaborate and less Cavill-centric, accurate description of the Man Of Steel Movie

5 Terrible Lessons We Learned from Superman Movies


All reactions shown here were sourced from

With this post I thee commence


As the lyrical genius  Eminem ( after whom I assumed the candies were named or possibly things are the other way around) once said “I’m not afraid, to take a stand, everybody, come take my hand” . Except, I’m deathly scared, afraid, petrified even and let’s face it I have symptoms of mild germophobia so everybody taking my hand is outta the question, also I just graduated…yay, then again maybe not.

Out of college, 4 years spent studying engineering because let’s face it without a degree in engineering your life is unlikely to ever be worthwhile…EVER, I’m at the mythical crossroads. You know the one, with the signboard with two arrows pointing in opposite directions, both of them have no labels and you’re literally in the middle of nowhere, and mostly you don’t want to screw up and yo’re wondering whether risks are really worth taking. I studied in what has been described as the dream college and the ideal spot for learning…by no one. It’s funny how a reputation outlives what it was built on for so long. I’m waiting to hear back from NYU about admissions and I’ve been trying to just get my final transcripts from the stupid effin Anna University to send to NYU, apparently it takes 2 weeks to print out a sheet of ugly paper and if you can’t wait that long well they don’t really give a shit. Sadists I will never understand. I kinda hope BDSM catches on in this city, the government officials in the stupidest yet somehow weirdly powerful jobs (like the guy who hands out the marksheets) could use a different outlet for these dominatrix, sadistic and taboo tendencies. I think it would definitely be for the best.

Another awesome thing about college here: you learn NOTHING to prepare you for life and they don’t even hold the bloody official graduation ceremony until a year after you actually climb out of the hellhole. So there’s one more thing I can’t cross off my bucket-list-a crazy inspirational commencement address.

I read a post about the most inspirational commencement speeches ever on FastCo and while those were amazing, here’s my pick:

The brilliant & the obvious 

It’s been played over and over and quoted again and again and it’s become the obvious pick, but not without reason. Everytime I think twice about what I want to do with my life, I can’t see the point in doing things that don’t make me happy- writing, reading, singing (Seemingly like Adele when I actually sound like this guy). So anyway, this speech kinda reminds me that risks are worth taking, you never know what tomorrow brings, you only live once and all that jazz.

There are many versions on Youtube I chose this one because I love the name of the channel 😛 (peestandingup)

Because things can get Harry sometimes 

JKR is da man. I mean talk about a phenom. And as someone who aspires to reach her level or fame, success both in terms of literature and mimicking her accent, I have to say her speech reminds me that I am wrong about the two thoughts that always plague me and get me down- ‘there’s no turning back if you make a bad decision’ and ‘just because a majority thingks something is right and you don’t agree, you’re probably the wrong one’. FYI those are stupid thoughts that stem from the deepest darkest annals of my tumultuous relationship with my parents. Which brings me to the most important reason why I love this speech. She reminds me that there’s a point beyond which you need to stop blaming your parents, hitch your pants a little higher on your waist, roll-up your sleeves and just charge. I have always been a whiner when it comes to this, I blame my parents for a lot (actually pretty much everything) of things and I still do, but I like to think that the speech has had an impact. I do try to whine less and just move past it all. Grow up and all that.

I want to be the President of the United States’ speechwriter

This one is inspirational only because it reminds me that I can be funny and I wouldn’t be ruling out the possibility of working for the President someday. I also learnt that bullshit is a bad word, who knew. Jon Levett you awesome S.o.B!

These are the speeches I gifted myself, for putting myself through 4 years of a life I didn’t want, for making it to the finish without causing my hairline to recede, for managing to have fun with it anyway, for making some friends who made a difference and mostly for not giving up on the dream I’ve had since much before those 4 years. Someday (hopefully before I’m 30) I will be giving one of these speeches and all I can promise is that it won’t be boring, it won’t be profound, but it will be true.

Bonus: My new mantra/screensaver. 

Will Smith always knows what he’s talking about, but then again I haven’t seen After Earth yet.

Father’s Day Weekend. So Happy Father’s Day to all the Good dads out there, the ones who said ‘whatever’ when your girlfriend passed the pregnancy test, this does NOT go out to you! Happy Father’s day to my dad as well, because you aren’t as bad as I tell other people you are and I do love you for everything you’ve done for me, (not so much for the things, like engineering, that your forced me to do…see what I mean about the whining).

The funny commencement speech also given on Father’s day weekend, not too inspiring, but sure as hell entertaining.

Game of Thrones: the Stark reality! …jk just read on


My approach to TV show viewing in like a literature class, open to interpretation, discussion, debate and paper-airplane throwing and most importantly there is no right answer.

So I watched 3 seasons worth of Game of Thrones in roughly 5 days and then I watched yesterday’s episode and I died. Every single frikkin person I was rooting for on that show aka the Starks  was butchered and well let’s just say if it weren’t for Khaleesi I would have no hope for anything ever. Even considering how much of a junkie I am when it comes to shows, I think I’m invested in GoT waay to much for my own good. My own tweet sums it up nicely.

I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the next season- everyone on Game of Thrones

I really should’ve known better after Eddard was killed and worse yet, they had to go and kill the wolf :'((. I wonder how likely it is that George R.R Martin would’ve written a GoT version of PETA into his books to protest on behalf of those wolves. PETA and GoT do have a lot in common- they love nudity, boobies and fighting for causes. Khaleesi would look hella awesome as a PETA ambassador.

Khaleesi’s PETA campaign

I also found out that the actress I’d been raving about from the Elementary finale is Natalie Dormer aaaaand she plays Margaery Tyrell on Game of Thrones-brilliant she is. She also has a rather amusing and permanent duckface.

Just adding some hotness to your daily routine.

See what I mean, but I love her anyhoo.

I have also come up with a law that I shall hereby christen Riley’s Law of tele-viewing.

Riley’s law of tele-viewing states that “The more one despises an actor on screen, the more one is likely to love the actor off it”, in other words the amount of hatred you have for onscreen characters played by talented Game of Thrones type actors, is directly proportional to the amount of love you will have for them off screen.

Lena Headey who plays the “the queen we all love to hate”-Sersei Lannister, is just so much fun on the Comic Con GoT panel and on this:

If you have doubts about RIley’s law, well then you are a fool and I happen to enjoy Fool’s Gold( money I get by tricking fools I come across, NOT the awful Matthew Mcconaughey movie- I HATE THAT GUY). Another example of RIley’s law- Michael Rosenbaum who played Lex Luthor on Smallville. You have no choice to fucking hate his sorry bald guts on the show, but the bloopers are a whole another very real, very funny story. John Glover is awesome too.

See what I mean. Oh and it’s called Riley’s law because I am considering changing my nom de plume to Riley Pendergast. Good idea? Bad Idea? or do you have a better idea?

Also I hate Theon Greyjoy, I think he is a whiny little bitch non-man who deserved to get his junk hacked off.

I love the English people, they’re just so awesome- Ricky Gervais, Jeremy  Clarkson, those other guys who host Top Gear with Jeremy Clarkson, the cast of GoT (here’s a link to a gallery where you can see how much fun they have with their clothes ON). I know this is an odd thing to say, considering the British colonized my country and inflicted atrocities on us, but hey I don’t hold no grudges, especially if you look like this:

It’s crazy, the guy makes Jesus sexy. I’d let him colonize my country so hard.

Lover’s Instinct


I’m going through a weird phase right now, emotionally. Screw the long explanation, there’s a guy, I kinda like him. Blah blah. Whine whine. So anyway whenever I get bummed about this kinda stuff I write emo or semi-emo love stories, with the rare non-emo happy endingiy story. This one is a weird mix of both and also a weird mix of Shakespearean English and my show-obsessed rant English. The melding wasn’t as awkward as I expected, but then again what do I know, I like a guy who thinks getting free stuff is a bad thing. Read, enjoy and please do comment. :

There was a stage. There was a spotlight. And in it I stood on the tiptoes of my feet. My gown was long and abounded with ambiguous stains that come with years of storage. The play was Romeo and Juliet. My part was wonderfully agonizing. I stood there saying those lines. Meaning every one of them, perhaps some more than others.

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

 Okay, I didn’t mean those words at all. I barely understood them. These ones on the other hand:

And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Take all myself, I willed for you to hear. I sought your face in the audience. I saw it, as I always did when I closed my eyes and when I opened them as well. There you were smiling, watching, with your arms linked with her. I am not Juliet and you clearly aren’t my Romeo, or my Shawn Spencer even.

I do not know what love is, I never have. I do not believe it can be called love until there are two. When one heart longs for another, pounding in solitude, aching without solace, it cannot be love can it? I do not believe that could be the case. Love is not the term for affections unrequited, for an invitation declined. It isn’t love when your thoughts are of only one person and that person’s only thoughts are of Spanish supermodels.

The play concluded, the applause and consequent pride took up space in my heart. I smiled at you once again, and you, you winked at me, cheeky, forever playful, constantly tugging at the strings of my heart and as much as it pains me to admit, soul as well.

Behind the stage I was wrapping up when you came up to me. Thankfully you had left her behind. I stood there pretending not to be idle even though I had seen you coming in the mirror. You gave me a hug, one of those you always saved for special occasions- a dollop of warmth, a dash of softness, a wad of affection and just a hint of linger. You have no idea how much I loved the linger, how much I read into it, how many times I have analysed it, counted the seconds and even kept a journal( jk I am not that crazy). It’s been 2 years in the making and I still haven’t told you how I feel, mostly because I don’t like feeling this way, also because I want you to make the first move, ya big oaf!

‘Good stuff’, you said. You had never really been able to compliment me, not in superlatives anyway. Always good, never great. Always okay, never sure. It made me want to chop off your thumb, but then again I would consider the things you and I wouldn’t be able to do without your thumb and avoid succumbing to that instinct.

This instinct however, I was tired of suppressing, irritated with its persistence, positively disgusted with its intensity. I can’t describe it any other way. I didn’t thank you, I didn’t hug you back, I lunged. Grabbing your arms at my waist, I held them tight and kissed you hard. You pushed me up against a rather wobbly dressing room wall and kissed me back. I was tired no more, I loved the instinct, I was elated with its persistence, elated with its existence, elated by its intensity and just so goddamn happy with the response. I was in love and you weren’t far behind.