Date Archives December 2014


I wish for your sake I had taken a picture of my two-days old toothbrush while it was unused. Although I must admit that doesn’t cross the mind of many at the time of purchase. 
So at FoodCo stores, I bought a toothbrush, uhm ‘dynamic plus’. DISCLAIMER; this is not a hate post just in case your cousin’s friend’s nephew works there. So there I was at the toothbrush section, having a dilemma. What toothbrush to pick, what toothbrush to pick. There was the familiar oral B then others. Among others, I saw a beautiful pink and white toothbrush. I selected it. I had even had some minutes discussion with my sister on why she should pick oral B while I picked this one. 
Well first night, I used it before I slept and it was frigging hard. Someone say hard. Really it was but no cause for alarm. Now night two rolled around ( just in case you’re wondering, I did brush in the morning, just with my old toothbrush) and I took the toothbrush again but this time, amidst the foam in my mouth, I felt something else. It was only when I brought out my toothbrush out that I discover it was all coming out. I mean the white strands which brush the teeth themselves. The brush. Really just touch them and they pull off. How much weaker can you get?
 I’m currently staring at the toothbrush, dazed. Even the N30 brush I bought in school once was better! So I just really had that surprise paralysis then decided to make a post to the effect of my new toothbrush. Enclosed are pictures. For now, I leave you with a poem;
It is pink and white
It is fake
It is soft to touch
Hard to brush
Oh who shall deliver me from the power of toothbrush
The pictures aren’t very clear, i took them with my laptop. I also took these with my laptop
This is my room. Roommates are saying hello.

green and yellow

Well I wrote this about five months ago. Here:
the lady with the green and yellow umbrella
I watched her go
a little stiffness to her steps
a little rigidity of the back
dressed in a beautiful suit
but you can tell by the shoes
brown leather shoes; it had it’s victory story
it had been with the cobbler one too many times
it had fought it’s own good fight.
She’s in her late thirties
wondering when it will pay off
countless sacrifices
sleepless nights, long nights at the office
no significant progress
perhaps I’m wrong
perhaps I’m quick to judge
but my silent apology dies in my mouth
and against my wish my lips tug up as my predictions do not taunt me
a lady in an Honda accord comes speeding by, splashing water on her
she screams out
her bag falls from her hand
she drops to her knees sobbing
just before
the green and yellow umbrella comes tumbling down