about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Monday, April 05, 2004

Watched the Formula 1 Bahrain Grand Prix last night.

Despite the inevitable conclusion (Ferrari winning AGAIN), I'm glad everywhere else on the track, there was a lot of honest-to-goodness, wheel-to-wheel racing that I thought F1 never had. All too often the 16 or so races seem so processional and boring. No wonder WRC now has more viewers.

Bahrain proved F1 has what it takes to win the hearts of race aficionados. I just wish there were more tracks like it, the kind that provide overtaking opportunities EVERYWHERE, not just in the pits. No one enjoys watching clever pit strategy, Mr. Ecclestone.

Am very disappointed with McLaren-Mercedes Benz, whom I've supported ever since I followed F1. All their cars seem to get worse and worse each year. What use is getting the best race drivers when you can't get them the machinery to do their jobs in?

But now I'm very delighted with British American Racing Honda's consistent performance, winning their second straight podium position in third. Honda seem to be able to recoup their humiliating recent record of grenading engines. Kudos to long-overdue miracle boy Jenson Button...I am now officially one of his fans.
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After two weeks of missing badminton, I am pleasantly surprised at how well I did today, when I did come back to play. Today's record: three wins, one loss.

I am ON today.
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Found a dead mosquito in our rice bowl tonight as I was having dinner. It must have died from the trapped heat. Ewww.

No matter what people say about eating insects as an extra dose of protein, I cannot stomach eating them.
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Amazing how true friends can find enough time from their busy schedules to listen to others rant and whine.

Thanks for the advice, Cher. Amishu. Am always here if you need help. *LOTSAHUGS*
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I've long been
Staring at your life
A forbidden glance
Into the secrets you hold
The workings of your mind
The yearnings of your soul
Yet I find
When it comes to being
What I want to be to you
All the staring I do
Into your being
No matter how hard
No matter how long
No matter how often
I find myself
As confused as ever
I always return
To the nothingness I began with

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