Rat-a-tat Ta da!

         It was the third time in the same week that I went speechless. No; it was not because my jaws lost the sense of motion after watching Paris Hilton's new video. It was for far more positive reasons.
         The first time was totally unexpected. Exactly a week ago, it so happened that my hormonal upswings were hitting an all time low and I was nowhere near to completing my secret mission of eloping with a gorgeous female by the end of the term. I was pissed and bored. So was Dfock, who was wandering around, aimlessly within the campus with a semi-drunken look. Looked like his self-proclaimed girlfriend had self-ditched him again and our man was totally down among the garbage, trying to sweep himself up. And so, in a machiavellian task of weeding out the evil thoughts that corrupt young, guys' minds and provide them with grades that would help children learn the alphabet in reverse, quickly; we both set off to watch Transformers. We never regretted the fact that we were female-less. We were totally stunned. and of course, speechless.
         The second time was when my splendid marks came. Sometime during the week when I was prancing around in vague happiness, with no idea of the disaster. It was so sudden, that I never knew what hit me until I tripped in the bathroom and banged my head against the soap tray. I broke the soap tray in anger and walked away with a stinging palm. It was really too much.
         The third time was neither unexpected, nor unannounced. I knew about it and I had been waiting for it, for quite some time. It came. I saw. It conquered. (Sheesh. Sounds too corny, even by my standards. My grammar is slowly going to the chihuahuas.)
         Anyway, there are some things in life that are never worth missing. It may be small - a miniscule part of your long, happening, happy lives. But it may make you think in the future about the past. You may find yourself asking the same question again and again, like Siddhartha Basu with short term memory loss, "Had I done it, would it have made any difference?" You never would know. And so, I end my discourse on the parallel thinkings of Sir Walter Scott, with regard to his philosophical ideas surrounding the length of expectation and effect governing a two hour long, visual pleasure that mostly involves digitalized puppets on a big, flat, vertically inclined sheet of opaque material.
         I am extremely sorry for the above digression. Too much of them French dialogues, French accents and French kisses. Take my word. Go for it. Every scene is worth every franc. Bon appetit pour toi heart!