Sometimes, I am hit with the creative bug.
Unfortunately for me, my bug is a bit on the retarded side, so my creative output is never
as gorgeous as I would like. Since I only have half a brain, I must needs make do with what I have - I lost myself in that sentence there...
So I pick up my pencil, pen, ruler, coloured pencils (lame, I know) and attack my poor page.
This one and the one before, I plan on using as the back/front side of a Moo calling card.
I have more of my 'creations' here
Alas and alack.
I miss my Froopert :(
I'm getting like the Count!
I wonder how her fisherman training is going?
Anyhow, on to more serious matters.
Look at this picture. Did the ancient Egyptians really have snakes with ears? Bunny ears at that? Wow. They must be extinct, surely. Or National Geographic - a favorite of Ratnesh's mother, would surely have had a documentary on it.
I went to the British Museum last autumn and viewed a few artifacts... This caught my eye, being a lover of nature and animals and all that good stuff. I wonder what happened to the bunny eared snakes...
In this picture, you can see under the real rabbit's paws, an ancient Egyptian tv antenna. Very interesting indeed.
We are always being fooled by our own feelings of superiority to the ancient civilisations and then end up realising we are not all that great.
This is another example - These people had TVs so many thousands of years ago.
I dearly love museums and as you can see - I always come out smarter than when I went in!
:D
Frooples.
So Froopert left Trinidad this morning to go to Tobago - the idyllic sister isle.
She will be there for one week, learning to be a fisherman. She will be specialising in catching crabs and pacro.
You can view a pacro here on Froopert's less insane blog.
I also have a small video of one being pried loose from it's rock.
Because I will not be able to chat as usual with Froopert while she's fishing, I stayed up until 2:30am talking and laughing with her and our other good friend, Abi.
I am 6 hours ahead of Froopert, and even more hrs ahead of Abi in Costa Rica, so they started to tease me that I was the only awake person in Bucharest.
I was dubbed the 'Coffin shop Stalker' by Abi, because she remembered said I live opposite coffin maker's shop...
I'm trying hard to be offended, but somehow I find that's kinda cool...
*sigh*
Froopert and I have been wanting to go down that memory lane with our readers. We wanted to talk about some special memory, that was close to our heart.
However, after a few minutes of racking our brains, we came up empty (that should not surprise you by now).
So I decided to talk about animal bites.
Lets go down the memory lane of animal bites.
I will go first.
When I was about 11 yrs old and Froopert was a devilish 4yrs old, we stayed in a beach house, in Mayaro - for those of you who know Trinidad.
One early morning, we all (parents and cousins etc) went to see what the fishermmen pulled up and we were given some smallish, but still very appreciated cutlassfish.
(Look at it here!)
(The women of the party fried them).
Anyhow, Froopert took up a fish that was still alive and flung it at me for no reason (naturally) and the thing bit me!!!!! I still have the scar. :(
That was the only time I was ever bitten by an animal. Yet.
and I have the lovely Froopert to thank for it...
So, let's hear your stories!!!
Two days ago I went to a new outlet mall recently opened in the outskirts of Bucharest.
It's on the road leading to Pitesti, in case you want to go later.
I can't remember the name of the place, but it was cool. Most of the stores weren't opened yet and the food court also wasn't ready. But that's cool. Oh, and all the service people were surly and not in the least bit helpful. That wasn't cool.
I didn't know I was still capable of saying "cool" so many times in the space of 2.5 minutes. I'm well past my teenage years... This is strange...
Anyhoooo, on the way back home, we (Costel and I, Costel being my driver) spotted this specimen of engineering technology.
I have no idea what category it falls under - bicycle, moped, car
truck....
It looked like something the driver made in his shop at home.
There were welded edges and the paint looked like it was
applied with a brush. Still, it got the man to where he wanted to go (I assume).
So, who am I to laugh? (snigger)
Here he is, changing lanes - such workmanship, an engineering marvel to be sure.
The next time you are unhappy with the form of vehicular transport you may own,
think of this guy and be ashamed, cause he made this and you paid somebody for that piece of crap u have parked outside.
LOL.
With lots of love,
Froopert.
In the spirit of product- One of the many things that Froop squared holds very dear to our hearts, I have compiled a song in honour of this subject. Surely you will understand what product is by the end of my song. Please note this song is simply a new and improved version of Aly & AJ's "Careful with Words" which is in itself and excellent song. Please view the original lyrics here and listen to the song so you'll be able to sing along with my new and improved version which I know you'll want to do because it's just so catchy and it is a most pressing matter that affects us all at one point in our lives (or more for some of us).
So I've been having fun on YouTube and making some videos.
Yessiree Bawb.
I made a lovely (tooting my own horn here - "toot" is a hideous word, ent?) video of the sunrise a couple days ago and got some positive responses.
This video I added is not the 'lovely' one, this is a second, slightly less lovely one - but I deleted the lovely one from my laptop after saving it on a dvd that I promptly lost. So, we'll all have to settle for less today I'm afraid.
If you want to see the lovely one, you can look to the right - It's labelled "Sunrise - Ravi Shankar"
So of course my head got all swollen with the praise (self and otherwise) and I decided I will make a series of sunrise videos, and if I can manage it, some sunsets too.
Now, as ye olde seasons having been changing from winter to spring, I've been having a terrible time trying to get out of bed and begin life everyday. But last night I said I was going to make me a sunrise video and I valiantly battled myself and I won!
I woke up, actually got out of the bed and got dressed. With camera and tripod in hand, I walked to the balcony door.
Lo! and behold, when I open my sleeping eyes, to my utter dismay, all I see is fog.
And the fog lasted ALL ...DAY... LONG.
Froo...ples.
Many years ago, Frooples and I decided to make a list of all the words for "Butt" since there was a radio DJ whose last name was "Butts". The plan was to call him and read a list of what his last name could have been.
Thus, welcome to my first installment of "Froopert's Synonym Fiesta" where I will type synonyms for a certain word and of course, you may add to my list. This is of vital importance as it will no doubt be useful in for future generations.
Today's word: "Butt"
Bottom
Bumper
Backside
Tuchus
Derriere
Romp
Bamsie (Trini)
Bumsie (Trini)
Bam Bam (Trini)
Bum Bum (Trini)
Arse
A$$
Rear
Rear End
Tail
Hind
Hindquarters
Shank
Behind- Submitted by Earl
o-shiri (Japanese)
bum (British, I think?)
soft-serve ice cream dispenser? (How about that? my invention:P)
pelvis/seat cushion? (provided that you have a rounded but and not a FLAT one)
exit? (I'm racking my brains here)
The bottom of the bottomless pit (somehow I feel I'm talking about the wrong area.)
I'll stop.
Frooples
I can't think of anymore. Help me out Ratnesh, you look like you know a lot of words for A$$ seeing as you are one.
While moseying around the intertubes, I discovered a great blog
http://presentsimple.blogspot.com/
I've been having a great time reading this blog interspersed with loads of laughs.
Check her out!
Frooples.
I had some friends over for new year's eve last year (31.12.08) and one of them brought me this delicious dessert wine.
I have been drinking it since last night, and I must say "this thing tasting nice".
It's called "Tokaji Aszu" and I am seeing a "1631" on the label. It's from Hungary.
I would recommend this wine to anyone who likes sweet dessert wines, or anything that tastes sweet like a dessert and makes you tipsy like if you drank hard lika. I mean Liquor.
The photo stuck on the cork board behind the wine is of me. I figure I should put a little something for my loyal stalk.. I mean READERS.
Kampai!
Frooples.
As you may or may not know, I call my sister Froopert. Years ago, we used to look at this ODD cartoon that I think was called "Rupert the dancing grouper."
It was about Rupert, a grouper who would leave his bowl and dance and then inevitably die.
But the song was hilarious! They stress on the name 'Rupert' and it came out as
" Roooo-perrrrrt".
So naturally, I had to call my baby sister "Froooo-perrrt".
Not to be outdone by me, she came up with "Frooples".
Why Frooples and not, say, Froopat or Froopit etc. you ask? Because, she said, it rhymes with "scruples".
Such genius is without compare.
The "gyul.pus" was explained here - "The Origins of Gyul.Pus"
The photo is of my baby "Rainbow the bear" posing on my desk with a cup of Froop yoghurt. I bought it because of the name, and I will not be buying it again because of the taste.
Frooples
I have been having a lot of difficulty sleeping as of late. Perhaps it may be due to the unusual dreams I have been having of strange male persons. I dreamt that I met one such person online who asked me to tell me about my country and every time I sent him some information, he would proclaim angrily "I DO NOT LIKE THAT!" as if I had FORCED the information on him.
What a Freak!
I wonder what is causing these dreams...
Froopert.
Our latest commentator's name in Ratnesh.
I never heard of ANYONE named RATnesh.
Is that really a name?
That boy's mother really didn't like him.
The people responsible allowed her to put "Ratnesh" on the birth certificate?
They issused a birth certificate with the name "Ratnesh Preetum Toteelalsingh" ?
Poor fella, were they calling him 'Ratty' in school?
Ha ha ha
*sigh*
Thank goodness he seems to be in love with Froopert and not me :P
Frooples.
I think I have two confirmed stalkers.
Earl the Whittler - who has forgotten me in his money making frenzy,
and Anoneemuz - an arrogant imbicile.
My sister Froopert, has one (a very un-dead sounding character) and it seems a new wet-behind-the-ears-whelp has popped up.
I think this calls for some poetry.
I don't like poetry, It doesn't stir my soul or anything.
But a haiku is the only way I know how to express my feelings in this case.
(btw, the photo is me in Kyoto Costume Museum, dressed as a Heian Noblewoman)
so hear goes...
Boys, get lives and stop
stalking me. Just read the blog.
Don't get all weird. Thanks.
Frooples.
Your haikus are welcome too - it must be directed to the stalkers however.
The photo I took in Kyoto's Fushimi Inari Shrine, Japan.
The movie I took in Kyoto's Fushimi Inari Shrine, Japan.
Froopert here. You know what tonsiloliths are? They are otherwise refered to as "tonsil stones". They are the most vile, disgusting and putrid thing that comes out of the human body.
So, I have had something poking my tonsil region for quite a while. I would take a flashlight and inspect said region only to find that there is nothing there. Yesterday however, I felt such a sharp sensation that I decided that I will not quit until the foul inhabitant of my tonsil was evicted.
Sure enough, when I pulled the skin back with an outstretched pin, there was a small dot of yellow matter peeping out (I want to throw upwriting this). After many minutes of prodding, hacking, dribbling and literal tears, A LARGE and STINK mass flew out of my piehole. It was horrible. I thought I would pass out. It seems that the particle was stuck therein for so long that it was no longer yellow but brown. Imagine my disbelief (and wooziness) as such a terrible discovery!
I hope you want to throw up now.
The end.
BTW- My stalker's name is Count Ruprecht Lestat Bathory Tepes von Khevenhuller and allegedly is of noble blood. I have never met this person and he is in the habit of speaking as if we are long lost lovers or as if we were together in another life. Dearest Count, please be informed that I have lived only a mere 22 years thus far and therefore most probably am not the person you are thinking of. Perhaps you should re-consider your stalkerage of me.
Additionally, why are you ill and what are your pills for? Everyone wants to know.
The End.
So apparently I've commited a faux pas and insulted my stalkers.
I now need to attempt to extricate my foot from my mouth.
*sigh*
My "friend" the whittler who is currently making money selling his wooden teeth on this blog is called Earl. His full name is Earl Buck Bobby Jimmy Bo Kincade. Quite a mouthful.
For the sake of time, we will call him Earl and hopefully he will sign his posts as Earl too.
I have decided he can sell his wooden teeth on this blog. I think it will be beneficial for both parties to join forces. To what end, I have no idea.
My other "friend" is apparently a polyglot Lawyer and his appellation is as follows:
*deep breath*
Charles Ruthven Oliver Benjamin Anoneemuz (wth?) Hansen the third.
This gentleman is not selling any products or services on this blog at the moment.
I mistook the lawyer, who for brevity's sake I will refer to as Charles Hansen the Third, for Earl the Whittler.
So Mr. Charles Hansen III, I am sorry for speaking about your rear end, and making threats to your person. Also, I hope you will forgive me for making disparaging remarks about your education... I will however appreciate it if you don't harass my other valued readers.
Earl, I hope you are not offended and will continue to read our blog. You are one of our first readers and I will not like to loose you - please don't take that sentence in the wrong way - PLEASE.
My sister, Froopert, also has "special" readers who seem to interested in her words, but I don't think I have the energy to try to explain. I'll leave that up to her - my brain is tired. In the words of one of our readers " I need my pills."
Frooples
Thank you Gemma Longman for letting me use your great photo
Here's the link to more of her very interesting photos -
http://www.flickr.com/photos/g-hat/
Today I slammed my fingers in the drawer of a cash register.
Am I an idiot?
Or was the cash register conspiring against me since I called it a stupid, useless, pathetic excuse for an overgrown, retarded, unnecessarily large and over-glorified calculator?
Froopert
I don't understand why parents see fit to lie to their children about one of the most natural occurences in life.
(Other natural occurences include bowel movements, peeing in the bush and spending all your money in sales).
I for one, am already prepared in the event that I produce offspring and that one of them is fortunate enough to be lucid.
I have my answer all planned. I will not lie to my progeny, I wish to be a good mother. I will bite the bullet and explain the truth to my child.
Child: Mommy, where do babies come from?
Me: Well, my dearly beloved, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very, very much, they go to the Prefectural Office and fill out some forms and pay stamp duty and wait nine months.
Then, after nine months they go to the hospital where the stork drops off the brand new baby!
See? It wasn't so hard, parents, don't lie to your innocent Babes in the wood. Tell them the truth!
Frooples
When we first entered this apartment, 3 yrs ago, our very friendly and accommodating landlord provided us with 2 rolls of toilet paper.
Now I went on Wikipedia and looked up "toilet paper" and saw that the first line included the word "soft". (A fascinating article, btw.)
These two rolls we received were decidedly *hard*.
They were eye-bugging-out-of-your-head hard.
I was wondering for a while if it really was, in fact, toilet paper, or if it was supposed to be used around the kitchen etc. like mini Bounty paper towels - Bounty is softer than this t.p. mind you.
I thought I made use of the wrong sort of paper in my attempt at personal hygiene. Nope, the things were toilet paper.
This paper refused to get wet even! I tried using them to wipe up spills etc., but they would just spread the liquid around and not make the slightest effort to absorb anything! It performed and felt to the skin, like if each block was dipped in varnish. *sheesh*
It should be illegal to sell varnish coated ice-off-your-windshields-in-winter scrapers under the name "toilet paper". 
Anyhow, the first thing I went out and bought was REAL toilet paper.
I read in a book (yep, I can read, and I actually own a book, I even plan on buying one with bigger words when I go back to the bookstore) that the British used scraps of paper before "real" t.p. was invented.
They would collect all the flyers and paper used to wrap their parcels in etc., and then one lucky lady would get the joyous job of cutting then down to size. The harder paper/cardboardy types, would be used as "spills" to light candles etc. I most certainly can imagine the scenario, since I experienced it myself.
I also read that the Japanese once used wooden sticks to do the job - wooooooooooohooooooooo.... Sounds like fun!!
Wikipedia has a lovely photograph of the items (look up 'Toilet Paper')- somehow I believe they were called "chugi". Somebody please tell me if I'm wrong.
A member of my family on the Japanese side is a huge fan of the TOTO toilets. The ones with the built in bidet, bum dryer, waxer, blush applicator and prober (to check for worms).
She insisted I use the thing (not the prober, I already know I have worms) and told me how wondeful I'll feel after.
UGH, it wasn't wondeful in the least. It's an admirable idea, but it certainly doesn't get the job done AT ALL.
The spray just isn't strong enough. They also need to develop a hand (perferably one one out of a latexy material and not, say, steel) to extend and assist with the washing process. Soap wouldn't go amiss either.
I resorted to wet wipes.
How do you attend to the (hopefully) daily business of personal hygeine?
Please comment! I'd LOVE to know :D
Frooples
Hello my Dearly Beloved,
This is Frooples.
I hope you are in the best of health.
So I am currently having some problems with 2 of my 4 mandibular third molars, a.k.a my wisdom teeth. My upper left and lower right are in the process of moving around under there.
All four of them are impacted by the way, and my upper right actually came out and is now viewing the world from the direction of my ear and not downward like his brothers ( yes, my teeth are all male).
The lower right (and left) are probably inside my jaw and I rue the day when I will have to operate (not me operate on myself, I mean when I'll go to a dental surgeon and ask him to oblige).
The upper left, like his comrade on the right, is already partially exposed and making sure that I know he's there. Of course, this emergence of new and unwelcome teeth means trouble for the teeth I am already using.
The tooth next to my front teeth, what's that called again? My incisor? has decided he's crowded and is valiantly trying to escape my mouth.
In the space of two weeks, this tooth has moved out of the ranks and is trying to go AWOL.
Fortunately, my upper lip is handling the situation for the moment and I don't have a snaggle tooth poking out the front of my face . . . yet.
My lower jaw, on the right side is swollen and my totally erupted upper right wisdom teeth is rubbing against my tender, swollen gum. (I don't know how it can face my ear and still do that) Not comfortable in the least. Anyhow, don't worry too much about me - fortunately I am still capable to swallowing, if not chewing my food :)
So, a few days ago I told my good friend about my wisdom teeth issues and she looked at me with a surprised expression and said "Aren't you a little bit OLD for wisdom teeth problems?" I am 29 years old dear reader. I asked her what age did you evict your wisdom teeth? "Oh! I got them out at around 22 yrs!"
So I checked Wikipedia and sure enough, I'm too old for these kinda shinanegans. My answer, to her and to you is:
What do you expect, from a person who only has half a brain? Obviously I will develop slower than others! Du-uh!
I will get them yanked out, just the timing isn't right. Later this year, surely.
Now, on to more important topics, I think I have a stalker!
He has commented on my last post and showed an unnatural interest me. It's a bit unnerving to know there is a creep out there who is waiting patiently by his computer, to see when I post, so he can reply... Frankly, I'm surprised a man with wooden teeth actually HAS a computer... I wonder where he got it, maybe he can get one for me...
Hello, this is Froopert speaking.
I had a horrible nightmare just now and I thought I would share it with you.
It seems I was getting a sore throat in my dream. Everyone around me was sick. Throwing up, coughing, passing out, $**tting themselves and what not. Eventually, people started to drop down dead around me and rotting.
I woke up scared because the rain started to fall so abruptly and heavily that I thought it was the end of the world and I was getting sick in my dream which means I was about to drop dead soon and I didn't want to stick around for that.
I woke up with a sore throat this morning...
So I started drinking coffee when I was 14. Yes, I know it's a tad young to begin imbibing the
ubiquitous bean, but such is life.
I drank Nescafe instant with sugar and milk. Later I graduated to sugar only (with the coffee, not a cup of pure sugar), and then to black.
By the time I was working, I was drinking instant (what else is there?) and evaporated milk - an acquired taste to be sure. Around 5 yrs ago, I suddenly didn't like coffee anymore.
Drinking those fancy coffees in fancy cafes and even a starbucks coffee (plain black) would make me queasy and more often than not, cause me to have to visit the w.c. more often than was comfortable, or that was allowed for in my schedule...
That's when my obsession with tea began (you thought I made a mistake in the title, ent?)
I began to drink black tea with evaporated milk and sugar and soon realised that the extra sugar in my already sugary diet wasn't helping my...um... physique.
So I switched to milk and honey and Earl Grey tea - no, I don't put lemon in Earl Grey, I like it with milk.
Anyways, when I moved to Romania about 3 years ago, I bought a cute mug with a pig on it because one of my nicknames, other than "Frooples" and 'fatty' etc. is "Kobuta" which is the Japanese for 'piglet'. Yes, I got that name due to the fact that piglets in general, and I have the same BMI.
I started realising however that in Romania, my tea just wasn't cutting it. Since I had no desire whatsoever to drink coffee, and was never a big fan of diahreah, I realised something had to be done about the tea situation. (I'm also not much of a hot or cold chocolate drinker, maybe due to my very unwelcome lactose intolerance issues)
I tried many brands, big brands and small brands, loose leaf and bags. Some were just downright terrible and some satisfied me for the first few days and then failed to deliver...
About two weeks ago, I went to a formal lunch (complete with champagne - yummy) and really enjoyed the black tea I got after the meal. "Wow", I asked myself, "what's so different about this tea and mine at home??"
Then it hit me, I had in my hand a *tea* cup (and saucer), which holds about 5oz. of liquid. My Pig *coffee MUG* holds 12 oz.
So I have been all this time, ranting about the quality of tea and racking my brain about why my tea is not good, when in truth and in fact, I have been trying to force a bag of tea designed for about 5oz of water, to perform the same in 12 oz of water.
Baka!!
You try functioning with half a brain and see how far it gets yah.
Hmmph.
Dearly Beloved,
Why "gyulDOTpus" you ask?
Is it English? Is it an expletive? Is it a type of catamaran? Where can I buy one? How does it taste? Does it expire? Does it actually MEAN anything??!?! Yes my friends, it does mean something; something very special to us.
You see, we have a cousin, who we love to pieces, but this girl insists on behaving like an illiterate pickle. She would send us text message after text message sprinkled liberally with generous helpings of "gyul.pus" at the most inopportune moments in the text. This phrase or whatever it professes to be, breaks up the harmony of the text message and causes us to develop a sudden urge to visit the privy and forces us to miss the real message.
It's a type of mobile warfare, or perhaps a psychological test to see if we are mentally strong enough to overpower the extreme disorientating force that "gyul.pus" produces and actually understand the underlying meaning.
We were unworthy to defeat the enemy - we have since become entombed by the waves of nausea and mental lethargy "gyul.pus" emanates and we have actually started calling each other 'gyulDOTpus' in our google talk conversations.
But what does it MEAN you ask?
Well, in Trinidad, our homeland, "gyul" is a slang term for 'girl'.
"Pus", unfortunately, means 'puss' or cat.
The [dot] in the middle is very common in our pickle's, I mean cousin's text messages, it is the equivalent of a *space*.
She is not in the habit of using spaces between her words, she prefers the elegant beauty of a period/dot instead. This may be as a result of her inability to use her cell phone as well but I digress.
So there you have it, "gyul.pus" or as we have come to say, 'gyulDOTpus' means, basically, GIRL. Yep. Girl.
Maybe cat too.
We're actually not too sure why she insists on calling us 'cat'. It's probably not a good thing though...
Anyhoo, to commemorate our endevour and our undying confusion and diarreah, I have decided to submit for your perusal, a Haiku. (I am not particularly good at haiku, but who really cares?)
"You brainwashed us u
pickle. Our half brain has
grown even smaller."
Frooples.
Hello people of Earth and beyond,
This is Frooples typing in Romania, and Froopert is in Trinidad and Tobago contributing via Google Talk.
We are sisters.
I, Frooples, am 29 yrs old, married and living in Bucharest due to hubby's job. I am careerless (except for being a housewife) talentless, beautyless, hobbyless, educationless and childless. I am also athleticly-challenged and most importantly, partially brainless.
Froopert is 22 yrs old, and prides herself on being broke, unmarried, jobless, hobbyless, talentless, slimless and prettyless. She also has an unhealthy obsession with Hello Kitty and is, indeed, also partially brainless. (This brainless issue we shall address later on.)
Later on...
I, Froopert, will now proceed to discuss the issue at hand, viz. being in possession of only half of a brain, and not a particularly efficacious brain at that. It seems that whenever one of us decides to comment on a particular topic the other says the exact thing, in the same words, at the same time. As a result, we have come to the inevitable conclusion that we are, in fact, in possession of two halves of the same cranial organ.
We have decided, via the intertubes, to join forces by combining each of our half brain and prove to the world at large and beyond that it is, in fact, quite probable, to function with only a meagre portion of a brain. Ladies and Gentlemen, we hereby present to you for your stalking pleasure.... gyulDOTpus
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