The simpleton life has been anything but crazy for the past few weeks. While it makes me super sad to be typing yet another post [which I intend to complete before I hit the sack tonight (did not happen)- the simpleton needs her beauty sleep dah-lings!] I must go ahead and hit the publish button on this one or I will lose faith in this blog, my sarcasm and ability to write. And no I don’t want to know about how you already think that way.

Now you are all aware of my sheer love for social networking and how it has revolutionized socializing as we know it. How else would you know ‘xyz‘ is on vacation in London and having the time of her / his life there. No, I’m not judging I completely understand, no other way this life altering news reach you? One must put technology to its right use. And let’s no forget the amount of new material it adds to the (frequently) occasional gossip sessions. I mean informative discussions, excuse me oh Savvy Ones, I tread along the wrong route of thoughts and words sometimes – its a rare case of sarcasm, incurable I hear.

It’s rather efficient isn’t it though? If you’re all updated on the ‘basics’ of who wore what to the last charity event, all you need to do is follow up on how much money was spent and who was talking to whom because of course, those things only come from careful observation. A skill, I might add, that one only acquires with experience, dedication and truly precious times to kill. I don’t underestimate you, at all.

While I was thinking about what I can only describe as my close-to-obsession with social networking (oh what I would do without it), I did realize, quite humbly so, that my Facebook life is next to non-existent (damn it!). I should have left the darn website ages ago but I must admit, it keep you rather (annoyingly) well informed. Especially, if you’re away from home. I decided I’d take the role of the ‘bitch’ as always and describe all the great things I miss out on by not showing any commitment whatsoever to the Virtual Social Life (referred to as VSF from this point on).

Also I must add my friend, earlier referred to as the ‘friend in higher places‘, oh yes I am well connected, decided to quit Facebook and only lasted for a good 3 days. The man has triggered my curiosity.

Disclaimer before I move forward:

– I use ‘I’ because I’m the only one that’s deprived of all that is great about the Facebook. Also because I can’t take names. Let’s be honest, I find you quite sad and I know you feel the same way about my lack of VSF. Perhaps we could call it even but the simpleton bitch in me just wouldn’t settle. Sorry?

– This VSF business is specific to FB (acronyms dah-lings) because it has the ability to piss me off the most. I hear about this new ‘G+‘, the guys at Google just couldn’t stand anyone growing bigger than them. Greedy Bastards! It almost sounds like the lame song about the stick. NO not that stick pervert. So far, I don’t find G+ even bitch worthy (read: comment worthy). Hence I must settle for an old enemy.

So here goes – deep breath.

If I had a life on Facebook….

1. I’d have 500+ friends. Online.

50% would be people I met through work or friends and I would have no interest whatsoever in seeing them again. Yet I’d still wish them, because you know, Facebook told me to.

20% would be friends from say, 15 years ago, and now we just like to see them growing in pictures and while I have never met them, I will know exactly who their loved ones are.

15% would be people I knew in school / university etc. so well you know, friends by association of some sort….

5% would be family. Few of those who I actually decided to befriend and keep on limited profile because it’s just not polite to ignore their ‘Friend Request’ and deprive them of a growing friends list.

I can safely assume that the remaining 10 – 20 would be actual friends and quite honestly I wouldn’t need Facebook to update me about their lives.

2. Everyone on my FB would know about all the important events in my life. Everything from my birthday to my graduation will be duly promoted, recognized and wished upon. Have to give them credit for persistence, I wonder if the website has considered developing template messages like the ones that used to be in Nokia phone, to save time I suppose. If they did decide to launch it, I believe these would be the words:


Super like

Thank you



:), 😦 [and that heart symbol I still can’t figure out how to make, of course I want to use it on Rockstar Boyfriend‘s wall, you are so smart sometimes!]

Suggestion for more dah-lings? I know you love using those template comments, it’s almost as if you itch to respond. The VSF does have its own evil temptations.

3. I’d have a cult or if you must put it politely a fan base. Every time I’d put a new picture of an object as lame as a lifeless stuffed dog, I would attract at least 50 people who would think its cute and looks amazing [refer to point: 3]. Yes, I can’t wait for lifeless dog compliments! Sigh.

4. People would have an archive, nay, a database of how I have evolved (physically) in the past 5 years. This would include some pictures of me that wouldn’t quite match the pretty dressed up me but you will still find it worth commenting on.

5. Any data required to stalk, mug or harass me at any given point in time would be readily available. If any ‘friend‘ decided to rob me, I would just make it easier. In fact, I might just add the list of my non-existent assets too.

6. My geographical locations in a day could be easily marked on a map including the restaurants I have been to and with whom. I can totally imagine a friend suddenly thinking ‘Where might she be? Let me check Facebook.’ Really, because people do that in real life.

7. I would update the most trivial details of my life because I know you would give a shit (I mean care). Yes, using my new phone to access Facebook for the very first time is news and you must know it. It’s like when my child said his / herfirst words (teary eyed and what not) – isn’t it?

8. I would tell you exactly what I ate for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks in the middle and what it tasted like. And maybe, just maybe, if I’m in a good mood I’ll also let you know when / how / where it all came out. It’s all in the details dah-lings.

9. I would duly learn about the ‘Unwritten Facebook Etiquette’ – what is it you ask? Blasphemy! Apparently it is so sacred that I can’t even mention it. However, just to make my case I will give you an insight, you know how people sometimes ‘like’ everything, its all UFE. If you want to be on top of having VSF you have to know the UFE. So an equation you must never forget if you ever want an active VSF –

Awesome VSF = Abide by UFE

Not that I’m allowed to but if you have any interest in the text I could share the document with you for a very affordable price. Sorry Mark Zuckerberg I, too, need to pay for college not that you would know.

10. My VSF life would be the dream life or pretty much a dream. Almost felt like I went all Inception on you, the lame social- networking-blogger version of course. Time to wake up, dah-lings?


Okay, no such declaration has been made by any authority. But, being the awfully modest soul that I am, I would accept the title of the ‘All Ruling Coffee Authority‘ quite happily. Yes, the title is fictitious too but isn’t it an idea worth thinking about?

The past month has been rather exciting for the simpleton. No dah-lings, the coffee kitty parties were not keeping me busy I have a somewhat ‘real’ life that was making itself happen. How, you ask? Let’s just say my life has been like an ‘Angry Birds’ game that aims at something, lands someplace else and and doesn’t really get me to level 2 but I can’t deny they haven’t always hit the wrong targets.

Although I have another post pending (an awesome one I must add) I had to type this one out first. My food, sleep and caffeine deprived mind is currently going through mad levels of overdrive. While I’d like to blame this on the month of fasting (did I say too much?) I also think the fact that I’m back to school has much to do with it. But one must give credit where its due, my writing inspiration somehow comes from the dread of  deadlines which have unusually made themselves happen much earlier in the semester (those no good egg throwing White Angry Bird types that get you nowhere). If you are in fact a tea / coke person and end up resenting this post and blog to its fullest please blame my grad school or the Angry Birds or the meal you had for lunch or the bad cup of coffee you just sipped OR the person sitting next to you (I’m really counting on this person for my survival – Po Kung Fu face ON!).

Awesome Lego Credit: Yiu Keung. Shitty Photoshop Credit: Me.

So among other things my caffeine deprivation has also lead me to believe that the ‘obvious’ needs to happen and needs to happen fast. You see we simpletons cannot commit to is large scale fund raisers with an A-list talking about politics and world peace over a 4 course meal. Our tolerance levels for such events are very much in the negative. We only cook up small initiatives that might have major impact – I’m afraid I’m not sane enough anymore to join a global / peace loving organization because post grad is literally  fucking me over and I’m quite lazy. However, I have done my share of being in a cult-like phase while volunteering for an organization of a similar nature. I suppose it would be apt to say that you reach a point in life where you think world change can come from caffeine – and why the hell not? We’re running short of water, I say go for the caffeine.

I knew you’d be skeptical and ready to switch windows! You only landed here because of the sweet virtual smell of coffee didn’t you and now you’re not interested anymore? Craving a good old cup of java (oh whoever uses that term to refer to coffee anymore?) that throws out heavenly scents aren’t you? Before you reach out for your wallets / handbags / clothes or whatever you might need to get out of the house – just bear with me for a few more paragraphs while I make my case will you? If I can convince you to go buy coffee without even trying I bet I can convince you about anything.

I must share this with all the savvy, not-so-savvy, wouldn’t-give-a-shit-about-being-savvy, don’t-care-what-savvy means people out there. I think I have a case. Feedback of all sorts will be much appreciated but remember, I get to hit the ‘approve’ button. So here goes:

1. Kids on Caffeine.

All you parental beings out there – aren’t you always complaining that kids aren’t active or smart enough anymore? Imagine the kid on caffeine – mind in overdrive, body in overdrive, ahead of schedule at all times! Yes, they will no longer want to play Wii they’ll want to do it all live. Well, in retrospect that might not go down too well but I do expect you to train them well. And I promise they will kickass at school. And wouldn’t we all love our kids zombie-d out once in a while?  (No I have none yet, Celebrity Sister’s Fabulous Two are quite a handful)

2. Limitless – Drug.

Okay, I should tell you this now cause the guys in Hollywood would never spill the coffee beans. That dude from The HangoverBradley Cooper was it? He was on a caffeine pill, in fact I’m pretty sure some hot shot coffee company sponsored the movie. Of course they wouldn’t want you to know this, why would they just reveal the world’s best kept secret? Trust the simpleton to keep you informed. While we’re at it, does anyone else see the irony in Bradley Cooper first starring in The Hangover and then Limitless – makes you wonder if the man has substance issues…

Courtesy: Law Coffee

3. Energy Drinks are so 2005.

With the myriad  of energy drinks out there with albeit very smart advertising that really don’t ever give you wings you must seriously reconsider the concept of energy drinks. They’re essentially formulas that didn’t go so well in the lab and ended up looking like piss. It’s all part of the great big advertising game, If the wings were really happening I’d currently be on Pluto (yes, back in the days when it existed).

4. Coffee is food for thought.

I can understand why generations of people have been ‘convinced’ into believing that ‘thought’ is food for the soul. Now these philosophers were not born in the age of ‘hole-in-wall’ coffee shops and barristas who can brew your woes away – ooh I should propose this line to my barrista! So in order to enable ‘thinking’ you need a steaming cup of coffee. Let’s look at this logically – when you get to work in the morning its not the breakfast that wakes you up or makes you think its your cup of coffee (sorry no association with tea whatsoever). When you’re bogged down with assignments from work or school – you rely on that sweet cup of caffeine to get you through. When you need to pull a mildly productive all-nighter, coffee is your best friend. So essentially, if we kind of kick thought out of the equation:

Coffee = food for the soul

Thought = Highly dependent on caffeine levels in your system

5. Coffee in Hand = Contemporary Chic.

Ooooh did my fashion conscious readers just turn their trendy radars on? Yes dah-lings, back in the day holding a cigarette in one hand a glass of white wine in the other was considered savvy but now a cup of coffee will do just fine for you. Now I know the savvy souls out there don’t exactly prefer the ‘no-frills’ look like the simpletons who would prefer their most comfy pair of slippers over those God forsaken heels. Remember the ‘click‘ that was meant for morning earthquakes? Well, now all you need to do is: order a decent sized cup of coffee, know how to pronounce it, know exactly how you’d like your coffee (don’t look so confused it’s just a question of milk and sugar) and hold it as confidently as possible and voila – you were born smart. With that, you just successfully pulled ‘Contemporary Chic in 2011’.

I must stop before I hit a 2000 word post again and some of my regular followers might complain. Oh yes, I receive your fan mail and don’t tell me I didn’t listen. I hope I have you convinced about this noble cause. If you want to survive in 2020, I say ditch the water – if you OD in the process and do end up in a sad place be sure to find yourself a computer with a browser and an internet connection. I will be updating the blog to entertain you for the rest of your time.

While we’re on the topic of coffee I must share this with you before I sign off. I recently visited Melbourne and based on some convincing reviews decided to visit a coffee shop called ‘Brother Baba Budan’ – quite lost about the meaning of the name. After trying that brown liquid (refuse to call it coffee) I posted a sweet review on a website. The cult of that cafe didn’t take it so well. No sense of real coffeee or criticism but for those of you who like a little bit of cafe experience I must admit it is a nicely done place. The picture is posted below and so is my review. I claim full responsibility for the content cause quite frankly dah-lings, I couldn’t give a fuck.

Photo Credit: Me. Decor Credit: Brother Baba Budan. Coffee? No comment.


I was visiting Melbourne last week and had been duly informed by reliable sources that Melbourne is the city of great coffee. I am studying in Canberra and while I would usually undermine everything the city has to offer, the one pure bliss of my life in this city is coffee from ‘Bean in the City’ (yes, there have been reports of caffeine instead of blood in my veins). So here I am craving a good cup of coffee and quite frankly not enjoying the ‘Starbucks Experience’ as much. My sister googled ‘best coffee on bourke street’ and found ‘Brother Baba Budan’. And I’m still quite curious about the name, anyone know what it means?

On day 1, I walked with my 8 year old nephew using dodgy Google maps (or perhaps we could blame that on my tired mind) looking for this joint. Finally, after 30 minutes going in all directions (ironically, in one big square) we found the place only to find out that it closes at 5pm. Absolutely disappointed and in complete awe of the decor I couldn’t wait to return and try a cup.

On the last day of our trip, I decided to try one more time. I just didn’t want to leave without tasting this so-called ‘divine’ cup of coffee. I had been up since 6am (albeit on vacation) and about an hour before I had to leave for the airport, I decided to ditch the packing and head towards BBB. There was something more than enthusiasm in my stride, perhaps a dash of hope?

I walked in to find the place packed. It felt like all the coffee lovers in the city had just decided to come there, some of them sketching, others chatting away over coffees and muffins and other had managed to comfortably stuff themselves in little corners. I thought, there had to be something about this place that would make people want to treat it like a second home. I ordered my cup and patiently waited by the side. Popped out my camera for a few quick pictures (because it does deserve credit for its creatively wild interior). I silently observed people, conversation and the barista (yes I was literally hanging by every drop of coffee he made, I wanted MY cup). So after a good 10 minutes wait (ordered mochas by the way) – I decided to first sip the coffee with my sister rather than being greedy. So I headed back to my hotel and the anticipation – well, in retrospect, I can tell you it was much higher than what the coffee actually offered.

I rushed inside the hotel and decided to take the first sip while in the lift, yes I cheated a little bit. However, it is quite sad for me to say, the betrayal wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t exactly the best cup of coffee I’d tasted and only made me want to go back to the coffee joint in Canberra (just the joint, if I may add).

So I say, the place is nice and comfy, great for people looking to meet other like-minded, caffeine loving, escape from 9-5 jobs, creative souls etc. but the coffee is at best, mediocre. Apologies to the die-hard BBB fans but I have definitely tasted better coffee.

Now, Savvy Siders (oh yes, I do have a new term for you), before you wander off to the fantasies of of Vegas in all its glitz and glamour I would suggest you hold your horses or Hubby dah-lings’ new Porsche, if I may? My simpleton readers, modest souls that they are, only associate the simple entertainment of gambling and drunken nights (Hangover taught us well) with the city hence it is essential that I bring them up to speed with the latest trends.

There is indeed more to Vegas or the foreign lands these days and my trendy readers would know, I recently learned that its one of the venues for the trend I shall disclose soon. Ohh  I foresee some excitement wait till we get to it and I stop my usual digression. To those who belong to the regular breed of the likes of me this will come as a shock so I suggest you hold on to your hearts, cups of coffee, mind and mp3 devices very very close.

The story for this post goes (as they always do with me),  I was discussing the logo for this blog with Celebrity Sister and let’s just say the parents were successful in transferring the creative gene to her (god only knows how that went down!) and not so much with me. I suppose I got the B and S gene in abundance (read: Bitchy and Sarcastic). As all of you of the female / metro / bi / hetro breed would know, such random yet landmark-ish discussions also present a rare opportunity to share a little bit of gossip. What can I say, all we need is a good excuse. Almost like a treat at the end of a ‘productive’ brainstorming session. Now before you assume I’m discriminating against the hetro boys here, I’m not there’s just too much testosterone there to carry out a decent gossip session, they just aren’t programmed well enough.

So back to gossip – don’t get me wrong, I am well aware how my savvy readers have a different definition on how gossip is conducted – yes, we need a round table at the new 5 star restaurant, a new designer bag in one hand a ‘princess’ cut diamond ring in the other (I know a thing or two from those dreadful shopping trips to the jewelry store) and a newly acquired accent to go with it. Oh honey, we don’t do British or American anymore – we can do French, Italian and even that Spanish accent that Penelope Cruz speaks in is oh-so-sexy. This particularly applies to my savvy readers from Asia – oh we all want everything ‘foreign’ don’t we and accents are just an indirect way of saying – ‘I have traveled to America 10 times, albeit for trips that hardly lasted a month, I am American already’. So gossip has 03 levels – no, actually make that 04.


Level 1 – Innocent Gossip

This is the lowest level – this is like finding out about something and discussing it without even trying. This is purely innocent. If gossip was a crime and they had to allow some element of it to exist for the sanity of humans – this is the one that the judicial system would allow, it is THAT innocent. (Just had an internal laugh at the thought of ‘Gossip Police’). The general assumption with this one is the we only ever engage in innocent gossip but unfortunately that isn’t really the case is it?

Level 2 – Intentional Gossip

This is a notch up from Innocent Gossip but involves all the intentions of discussing the newly acquired information further. How x event happened, who was involved, what are the expected consequences of the situation (we’re all experts you see). This is still usually conducted with a close group of friends and family. Fuck it – they’re all presumably close friends and family. Can’t go as far as to make that claim ‘just’ yet, must apply for ‘know-it-all’ status asap.

Level 3 – Gossip as A Cause

Don’t you dare hide, you know who you are! This is when gossip is treated like a cause, a purposeful cause. It MUST be done, obviously there is some element of entertainment attached to it. Come on, who the fuck are we kidding? It’s like discussing  a soap and that is exactly why we do it. There is no cause or purpose or ‘wellbeing’ that we’re concerned about. The false assumption with this goes, ‘I only talk, because I care’.

Level 4 – Bitch Session

Oh this is my favorite on some days. Add a cup of coffee and a shisha (hookah) – and I feel like an empress from the Mughal era. Sitting on my throne (usually a wooden, shaky chair), puffing away and discussing people and their lives as if my take on it will determine their future. If only, I was the authority of all things (sigh), the truth is, this is the dirtiest, filthiest of them all. Later, once karma kicks in you feel like the bitch.

But for reference purposes, I was indulging in only level 2 gossip that day. Discussing the activities of a family friend. And this is how the post came to me, we were discussing how ‘someone’ had gone off to Vegas to deliver their baby. This someone lives miles away in Pakistan and honey, if you go to Vegas to deliver there’s clearly some crazy shit we missed in the rule book. Now all of you might wonder why am I targeting Vegas, I’m not, I just think my title sounds savvier with Vegas in it but what really gets to me is this traveling across continents to deliver a baby. According to popular belief, the babies come out with accents. Nah, that’s just a myth but one worth experimenting.

So I started thinking,what inspires this whole international babies business. I belong to a developing (questionable) country and hence, many people I know travel abroad to pop because it’s quite the trend. I have hardly ever heard of a British family moving to India, Pakistan or Bangladesh to bring their little one into the world – I suppose it would just be too loud for them. And I don’t blame them. So I thought perhaps there must be a good rationale for this ‘International Baby Business’. Having taken a course in International Management recently I am even more intrigued about this genre of reproduction and am tempted to apply my classroom concepts but I think I wouldn’t be doing justice to all my readers – hence I should stick to the sarcastic bitch in me. Apologies in advance.


So here’s a list of why I think these parents believe delivering abroad, especially, in Vegas may have its advantages. All of us deserve a fair chance.

The passport – Now that’s fair isn’t it? You were born with a shitty passport that wouldn’t even allow you into Africa without a visa so you think how about I make it easier for my kid who will one day (hopefully) make it easier for me. Sorry to break it to you mum and dad, but kids these days learn how to say fuck before they can properly pronounce ‘Barney’ (yes, the same one who once loved us all, what a Play Boy that one turned out to be). If you don’t believe me do visit FML, a recent discovery courtesy Rockstar Boyfriend. I’m not too sure if they’d be too excited to share their ticket to the moon with you. But do try.

– Social Support (not the government kind) – You know that one person in the group who always has something they bought ‘abroad’ – well guess what? You have a baby from abroad. Who the fuck can top that? I bet their new Louis Vitton cannot drool and smile like an angel?

– Travel Excuse – ‘Now, dah-lings, I am only in my 2nd week I should be on board a flight and off to greener pastures way before my travel is banned by the doctors.’ Must find the version of ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting‘ that gives you this advice.

– Internationalism in the Blood – Now let’s not be so modest. We all love a little bit of international in us. How else do you explain the obsessive love affair with India and other ‘exotic’ locations that some celebrities have / had (Madonna in the 90’s anyone?). Hence, once this international mini being is popped out, you suddenly have internationalism flowing in your genes and you are now authorized to associate it with the family. ‘Oh with x in our family, we’re half British anyway’ (insert fake British accent practiced in the hospital with the nurse who was actually Irish – oops?) you poor innocent soul, if you just delivered the baby in Britain, it just means you paid about $1000 extra for a job you could have had done in your own home country.

– Delivery-cation – Okay, so since you don’t actually live in the country / city you’ve moved to bring your child to the world in, you must decide on how to kill time. No, reading and coffee just don’t cut it. Since we ARE going to deliver in another country why not pick the best city where we can also spend money on ‘maybe’ making money? That’s right – Vegas baby! Like I mentioned, true story! And if you’re really lucky, the baby might just pop out a professional gambler – oh that should change things for you!

– Developed Country Deception – Now, I know you all won’t agree with me and those with some credible medical degrees will probably never come back to this blog (and I care). Here’s my theory,  it’s a pretty sweet deal if you can deliver your baby in a more developed country where its not as loud as back home, where you’re not hounded by family members to pull on the baby’s cheeks every darn day they spend in that hospital cot, where you’re not forced make your baby try food that it shouldn’t eat for another 5 years or so, where you’re not panicking every second about what might happen to the country. However, when you take the baby back to your home country and things are not as sweet as they were in what you can only call paradise – you’re kind of fucking with their head. I say save on the $1000 and keep it real, if you can?

– ABC & XYZ did it too – ‘Dah-ling, if my Savvy Sider friends are now getting involved in IBB (umm, International Baby Business, keep up!), we must all do it too. There’s no way around it. Even if there is – we refuse to see it, because we can afford to.

Bottom Line: Popping Babies while Partying in Vegas is the absurd fashion statement of 2011. Too bad we can’t put a bar code on human babies with a ‘Made in Vegas‘ stamp eh? Would be so damn savvy!

Ooh, I am so excited about this post for many many reasons. And they are as follows:

a) My title sounds like something off the cover of Cosmo (oh, yeah bitches!). I will soon have my very own publication and the Simpletons will finally be on magazine covers making fashion statement. Fuck, did I just spill the grand plan?

b) My semester has finally ended and I will not be interrupting this post with random thoughts on human behavior at work. Please go ahead and sigh that sigh you’ve been holding back.

c) This also means I’m officially on vacation AND have been reeling this post for the past week, imagine the restraint. Celebrity Sister and Rockstar Boyfriend (oh I haven’t mentioned him, he’s quite the shit dah-lings!) usually suffered the brunt

d) And finally, I’m in a super savvy place while I type this post, trust me, at this point you could use some of that envious blood against a simpleton, it will be well spent. I just have some friends in some very high places is all I can say at this point. (Update: I am now back to the real world, this post did not see its end in that fancy location, I suppose it’s a sign!)

Now, moving on to the topic at hand – this concept (of sorts), came to me while I  was busy stalling studying and wasting time in the mall.  Don’t worry the cause was novel as it happens, I was providing moral support to Celebrity Sister while she got her haircut. If you’re a female I’m sure you understand the importance of moral support pre, during and post a haircut. The term for this is ‘Moral Haircut Reinforcement‘ and this is how it works: There can be a total of 4 reactions to a haircut by the ‘haircut-ee’ and all reactions need an equally reassuring reaction.

Reaction 1:

Haircut-ee: ‘Love it! This is amazing, I think I look even better than x celebrity who had the same one.’ (Insert tons of gloating)

MHR: ‘Yeah! Totally, you look sooo great. It’s amazing – wow, I think I want it too!’ (Absolute lie alert) Now here’s the thing, the MHR may or may not agree with this, she might just think  the haircut is okay and not really all that better from the celebrity BUT in order to cover this truth and avoid lying – she will also say ‘And I love the blow dry, they’ve done such a great job’. Strategically evaded.

Reaction 2:

Haircut-ee: ‘WTF! I look ugly, this is not what I wanted and I couldn’t even say anything to the fussy hairdresser – unbelievable!’

MHR: Enter comforting role. ‘Of course not. It’s not that bad at all, you actually look different and err, refreshing – you needed this. And yes, I agree the hairdresser should have listened, you were so specific about your instructions.’ Think Damage Control – great way to get some PR Experience!

Reaction 3:

Haircut-ee: ‘So what do you think? I like it but you know the length is not what I wanted. I mean she did a good job, she spent so much time with attention to detail. But you know, if only she’d focused on the length…what do you say?’

MHR: ‘Oh no, it’s not that bad! The length might be a bit short but you can’t tell really (heck, I couldn’t tell earlier either) but it still looks great.’

Reaction 4:

Haircut-ee: ‘Phew! semi annual haircut out of the way. Looks good I think. Hairdresser, could you keep the blow dry on the down low? I don’t want to walk out looking like the 80’s just big-banged in my hair.’

MHR: ‘Noway! It looks soo good. Keep the blow dry (also could be a way of saying your haircut ain’t that great, hun! keep the blowdry).’

And in case you are wondering, I’m usually number 4 as the haircut-ee and have experienced all the ones before too. We all need an MHR once in a while no point in denying that. Please don’t get into a frenzy of trying to figure out what your last MHR did, I do want to live thank you very much. Besides, I expect Celebrity Sister to scream call me from the other room as soon she reads this, I’m in danger in my own house at the moment – no point in coming after me!

Now, before you go off making me digress yet again – let’s cut to the chase shall we? So while I am performing the role of the reinforcer and avoiding the temptation of running off to K Mart or Cotton On (the two loves of my shopping life these days) – it hits me! We are all shopaholics at heart just at varying degrees and with various strategic objectives (ignore the business student in me ladies). I came up with a list of Shopaholic types. They’re just my version of the average shopper and I promise there’s no quiz with points at the end, either you’re one of the following or two or you might not find a match at all – this is purely for my entertainment only.


1. Serial Shopper

Now we all know the popular, Serial Killers. These are killers of a different variety, they are satiated by the idea of going out for a shopping ‘kill’. These shoppers are very very particular about what they want and how they want it. My advice don’t be the one standing in their way, you never know what they might do.

2. MI Shopper (Mission Impossible dah-lings, now just because he’s aging we must not forget his handsome good looks in the first 2 movies or was it 3?)

This is one shopper who will never ever ever ever decide on one thing or find what he/she is looking for. No, I’m not talking about ‘hey I can’t decide – help me out. This or that or the other’ – this one will just NOT decide. They will just make the objective of a shopping trip, which is in fact, shopping – absolutely futile. My advice: let them go on their own and make the salesperson’s life a living hell. God bless their poor soul. This state is also recognized as a ‘Decision Impairment’ if you ever notice the symptoms, I say run in the very opposite direction and it would work out perfectly fine if you decide not to return. You just might live.

3. Impulse Buyer


This one’s my personal favorite. They have this genius plan worked out which is absolutely guilt free and gets you the goods too. No, not those kinds of goods, hands away from the pants now. This is what they’ll do – they’ll budget for a very innocent ‘stroll’ to the mall. They will walk in and purchase that ‘shampoo’ which is an everyday item. Fairly honest and harmless. However, while they’re there, they think, maybe I should have a look at the ‘skin care’ section and of course – there will be something I really need and must buy and hence starts the impulse buying spree. Oh and the boys, you’re no less – you might not do this with creams (unless you’re one of my metro friends, respect for you and your hands that are softer than mine on most days), men tend to do it with clothes. What starts with a shirt for work, ends with an additional pair of pants and belts. Don’t squirm, we all have an impulse buyer living inside us or on the left side of our head, possible with a tail and 2 horns – whatever suits you. You’re the savvy souls now aren’t you?

4. Retail Therapy Thirsty aka The Fix-er

Ever experienced feeling miserable, low, depressed, anti-work, anti-boss, anti-the-whole-world – and then as soon as you stepped inside a store where you found something you’ve set your eyes on for ages (read: exactly 2 days and 5 hours) is for sale be it 5%, its a sale! And the moment that lovely person behind the counter, who was atrocious the last time you came to the store, hands you a bag with a smile that only your mum would give you even when you screwed up big time – saying – ‘It’s all good, I got you. You deserve whatever it is that you’re buying’ (they’re also giving you that smile because it adds to their commission and kind of helps them feel good when they buy something but that’s all economics in crazy action). Then my savvy reader, you’re retail therapy thirsty or the ‘fix-er’. All those times you thought it was the ‘going out’ that was making you feel good or better about your sordid life, it was really that small shopping bag you had in your hand. You need a shopping fix to make the world a better place again and that’s just how you roll.

5. Guilt Trip Shopper

Okay so while some of you believe that guilt trip shopping and retail therapy are the same thing – it most certainly isn’t. This is all because you’re reading too many of those lousy articles/posts on those meaningless blogs about meaningless things, refer Brotip #818.  And no, my blog is not meaningless, it has an absolutely distorted purpose which it successfully achieves so essentially, it’s a purposeful blog. Now before you really start thinking about the gibberish I just pulled, let’s stick to the point.

Guilt Trip Shopping ≠ Retail Therapy

While retail therapy is completely restricted to those ‘low’ days, guilt trip shopping is designed (by the Shopping Gods) to temporary rid you off your guilt. We don’t credit ourselves enough for our ability to realize our own bad-ass acts and at times we’re so aware of them that we’ll do just about anything to avoid thinking about them. Yes, talking to people you know or your pets or random people on the bus might help but it really doesn’t do it for you. And all my fitness freak readers out there, really, working out is good for frustrations but never really helps with the guilt. But shopping – oh bring the fancy items with those price tags on. Items which will never reply back or remind you of the madness of the world. This is pure unadulterated bliss. I mean of course, 24 hours later you will experience serious guilt about the amount you just spent on a branded pair of sunglasses that DO NOT make you look like George Clooney but someone has to keep those guys in business.

6. The Spending Spree Shopper

Oh this one’s a special for my fashionistas. This shopper was born to shop. If the Westfield people are planning to open a new mall in a new location, they will first count the number of these shopaholics to decide. Nothing like a good spending spree-er. And all you simpletons out there (didn’t think I forgot you, did you?), don’t take these ones lightly and shrug them off. They tend to have ‘Serial Shopper’ potential and of the extreme kind. If these shoppers come out with a purpose, it’s strong enough to kill. Now, you must not confuse them, they don’t have particular lists. They have basic ideas of what they want – if an average shopaholic mind works like – ‘Hey, black is cool, it will go with my green, blue blah coloured shirt’. The Shopping Spree-er thinks ‘Oh black, yeah should go with that one white shirt’ and that’s where it stops for everything else there should be something separate. They cannot leave a vicinity with shopping potential, be it one of these tourist-y shops with overpriced merchandise, without running their card. Oh dah-lings they only do cards, the banks pretty much thrive on these people along with those high end brands. How else can you explain the sale of some of the most hideous pieces of fashion one has ever witnessed by those upscale fashion designers – they are paid to be crazy by the crazy. And in case you’re still having a difficult time identifying one just browse through your social network list and see who has uploaded the pictures of new items that they own most AND/OR upload new pictures of themselves every other day wearing something new. Get my drift?

And while the list continues to grow and enter the dark side I must not divulge. After all, I too am a shopalaulic at heart. Damn it!

I have spent much time considering my new post picking up random bits and pieces of inspiration here and there. And while I keep hitting the refresh button on my stats (575 hits, yes I am an absolute show off, and you thought all simpletons were docile, modest souls – seriously, we’re simpletons not cats) I’ve been processing the ‘preconceived notions’ that come attached with the simpleton label.

I won’t deny that being one has its perks, I get to be in other people’s heads. How? It’s quite simple (lack of a better word:)), while they ‘sum’ me up as a simpleton, I prepare a nice little comeback for when they finally give in to that nagging urge and slip a comment about me. And yes I say this from quite some experience (I remember all you calculative, presumptuous souls, you know who, where, what you are). We’re all humans, there’s nothing stopping us from our judgements and I don’t blame you for your instincts. However, we came gifted with our set of instincts too (come on, The Big Guy’s got to be fair) and they usually appear in the form of sarcasm and a series of witty comebacks so it’s all part of the package. Too bad you were busy focusing on getting the right amount of product stuffed into your brains, I mean, face then. So I’d say, non-simpletons need this list more than the likes of me, but then again, I tend to be wrong quite more frequently than one could imagine.

Special Note: These myths are not necessarily a prevailing ‘trait’ of every simpleton so should not be considered in their totality but in complete isolation.

We all wear glasses.

While I squint my eyes to the extreme (almost resembling my cat when she knowingly avoids people) while typing this post without my specs I must clarify all the bespectacled souls in the world (while you all have my squinting sympathy and respect) are not simpletons. They are just merely people with different personalities and (oh my God this might come as a surprise, try and control your reaction before you read this) weak eyesight. Yes, believe it or not that is why people wear glasses and for us it is definitely not a simpleton fashion statement. An JUST for clarification purposes alone, we don’t come of out of the womb wearing glasses either. I know this kills it for some of you but really it’s time you started facing the harsh realities of life.

– We are all hippies / goths / mentally disturbed / want to kill ourselves.

To date, no medical research has been initiated to establish the connection between being a simpleton and mental illness. It has absolutely nothing to do with our mental wiring. Of course, I am not saying we’re all normal (well, most of us) but rest assured it is not a clinical problem. We do not need a psychiatrist. God just programmed us slightly differently and then added super awesome powers like the ones mentioned above. That’s all. Jealous much?

– We live or dream the perfect life.

No such faulty aspirations whatsoever. Refer to Superman for the Not So Savvy for our version of Prince Harming, erm, I meant Charming. Yes, I must admit, we do thrive on your misery on some days when you wear those uncomfortable ‘click clack’ heels that practically kill your toes. And they also serve the dual purpose of a substitute for caffeine in the workplace (JUST in case your morning coffee had not woken you up). Basically, the heels bring anything but good news. Yes, to us this is all very entertaining and no reconsidering point 2 in reference to our mental state after reading point 3 is not an option. This is a very sequential post.

– We’re too simple for bullshit.

This one’s a special for the guys. Listen, just because you think we’re low maintenance (and you’re wrong, refer to point 6 – not without reading this and 5 though – slow down) and a little out there does not mean when you throw self righteous bull shit at us, we will take it. In fact, we will take it and then we will shove it in your face (I would like for this blog to survive hence the lack of a more ‘appropriate’ part of the human anatomy, but do feel free to use your imagination the way you fancy).

– Unruly hair is part of the act.

Okay, let’s get it out in the open, the hair has got nothing to do with simplicity. It has much to do with laziness and even more to do with not wanting to look like an ad for a shampoo brand 24/7. Other than that, really, we’re all pretty normal about our hair. Yes, you may not start counting all the people you know with unruly hair and wrote off as simpletons.

– We are low maintenance.

Yes, we don’t have taste for expensive rocks and face paint and I don’t say this with mockery, try being in a conversation with 4 people of the same gender and having absolutely nothing to contribute but sarcastic remarks. It’s not pretty. But that does not mean we’re low maintenance, we just like to compensate in, let’s just say, other materialistic things. In case, you’re wondering what they are and I know you are. I would like to introduce you to what I call the ‘Maintenance Meter‘ – very interesting concept. Whether we like to admit it or not, as humans we have a certain level of maintenance that we require, these usually exist in the form of random demands that might mean shit loads to you, quite rightly so but to those around who are trying to ‘support’ your demands, well, they’re a pain in the ass. So assuming that an average girl has a meter that goes up to say 5000 (tangible, intangible and everything else in between!) – this would be my ‘Maintenance Meter’  and mind you this is only based on my top 5 demands!

The Meter Effect Takes a Toll on the Wallet Too!

i. Travel the world

Maintenance Meter: +1500

ii. Own a sexy Mini Cooper one day

Maintenance Meter: +1000

iii. Collect all Angry Birds merchandise (subject to change based on mood and love for angry birds)

Maintenance Meter: +200 (not having them all can lead to serious mood swings!)

iv.  Beat Aki in ipod Tennis atleast 5 times with 6 to none (That’s right, bitch! No offense to the Japanese of course, this is strictly between virtual Aki and me)

Maintenance Meter: +500 (this package comes with serious abuse and temper tolerance and calming down abilities)

v. Aviator sun glasses, Fossil watch (2 sweet treats from the only watch company that should exist, I don’t expect my savvy readers to understand, of course to you if it’s not Guess it probably doesn’t tell the time right) AND lusting after a Wii or U for no reason at all

Maintenance Meter: +700

[Yes, they’re actually 7, you’re not that smart, I made a commitment and 7 looks so incomplete, its not even a list then]

I think I heard, ka-ching sound go off in the distance somewhere but I guess it’s just in someone’s sweet little head.

This post was originally meant to have 10 points but really I think I have hit the bitchy limit with this one so I must stop. And based on my latest inspiration from the Oatmeal (not the kind you eat dah-lings), I realize if you take the numbers away, lists look super sexy and long! <—- And  that’s my ‘listing’ fashion advice for Australian Winter 2011 ladies! So inspiring, sigh.

That’s it from me. If I don’t post again, my savvy friends sent a squad over to get rid of me and that too on the risk of chipping their nails and missing their weekly manicures so in all honesty you should give them due credit for their commitment to the cause.

Now while you go along judging my age and me before reading this post, I say hold your horses. While I’m a perfectly young 20-something who was not only there when the likes of Orkut and My Space happened, but also during the sad days  of mIRC and ICQ. Oh wait, that does imply I’m ancient! But it also indicates that I am highly experienced in what once used to be ‘random internet interaction‘ and is now ‘familiar social networking‘. It’s all about replacing old ideas with new technology and giving them a fancy name. You will be shunned if you are even caught referring to using ‘Facebook Chat’ or ‘Google Talk’ as ‘chatting‘ – that is soooo 90’s dah-lings isn’t it? My non-simpleton readers are just cringing with disgust right now. sigh.

Having spent the morning reading a case study on Nintendo Wii and desiring one (again, donations are duly welcome) – I couldn’t help but post this before I went back to studying. After all, I have literally been dreaming about writing this post. Revelations if you must.

So here’s how it goes, back in the late 90’s the internet was a rarity in my part of the world and my Celebrity Sister would generously allocate 15 whole minutes (fortnightly basis only) to me for ‘internet usage’.  This basically entailed me randomly going on to ‘irc‘ (as we called it back then) and talk to random people. Yes, that is sad. And in those 900 sweet seconds I thought I was at the peak of technology as it was happening. This was the 90’s baby and I was there. Well, in retrospect, not even close. But the possibility of being in a space where people didn’t know anything about you was perfect. In a city, where the ‘cool‘ few were distinct quite obviously from the ‘random‘ many this was an opportunity to make yourself just about anyone. It was a dream come true. Of course later, finding out that the person you’re talking to is also your brother’s friend who in real life thinks you’re a complete dork would not work out for you. But that’s another story.

The ‘chat platforms‘ (just to save myself from all those savvy people reading this post), continued to evolve. We decided that talking to random people was perhaps not the way to go. We decided to leave that to the online forums and ‘interest chat rooms’, which we weren’t really interested in to begin with. We stuck to the likes of MSN and then the true purpose in life was the number of contacts I can gain? Do I have more ‘friends’ than my friend x or even better am I running out of categories to put people in? And yes, while we believed the random contacting was sooo out of fashion we seriously thought adding people with random email addresses with ‘cute’, ‘sweet’, ‘caring’ and the best of them all, a cartoon character, was perhaps the best description of someone’s personality. Sigh, good old presumptuous days.

As the possibilities of the internet expanded and we all got cable television (yes, I’m from that time too) we felt closer to the celebrities we all aspired to be. Not necessarily pop stars and actors but business tycoons, authors, royal family members and even philanthropists. We had more information about them, we had websites dedicated to them – we somehow felt inspired to lead their busy lives or learn from their personalities. I remember spending tons of time on such websites tracking future tours of (I don’t want to say boy bands I still have a reputation) some very popular music bands. Now we all started looking for the opportunity to really be ‘someone’ beyond our happening (read: sordid) lives. Besides, this was the age of the internet, wasn’t it ‘Time’ that named ‘You’ as person of the year in 2006. This was supposed to be our fucking time damn it.

And hence, along came Orkut. This social networking site was launched when I was in my undergrad (stop making calculations, you won’t get very far) and it was all over the place. This was what we wanted, a web page dedicated to ourselves with our friends and what we like or believe in and of course, we could all use a good ego rub with an endorsement from a good friend. Yes, that’s right, you write me an endorsement and I am your best friend. Those were the days! Now this stumped irc and MSN – why? Because now we didn’t randomly talk to people, only interacted with those we knew AND could first scan profiles of. Perhaps, ‘stalking’ would be too harsh a word? It was perfect, you go out with a few people, see someone you want to get to know, look them up on Orkut, get to know them on the very authentic information they post about themselves and befriend them. The world, an ideal, happy happy place.

And if we thought Orkut had offered everything we needed, Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook, trod along to make things better (read: worse for some of us). I must admit, I was as hooked on to Facebook as anyone else who belonged to my generation (yes, laugh!). People follow people right? (quite literally in the case of Facebook and Twitter) – Facebook was a better version of Orkut. A lot more interactive, more personalized, can almost be considered the ‘inventor’ of apps (Sorry Steve Jobs) and best of all it was fun. Moving on from our celebrity profiles on Orkut – we now had a better opportunity not only to form a super sexy profile (come on, it’s true) with the basics from Orkut but add pictures and applications, show off what hot events we’ll be attending this season (you know who you are) and play games – Facebook took on a life of it’s own and had everyone and anyone signing up. While I thoroughly enjoyed Facebook-ing initially, (and I understand this is a very difficult realization for most to reach) there are some things about the site that I still can’t stand. Yet I end up there (usually, without even knowing it, sneaky browsers and fingers definitely conspiring) just to get an update on what’s happening. So for those of you who live by Facebook – I suggest you stop reading for others who enjoy the madness that is Facebook (most times) please read and enjoy the following observations:

1. Random news pieces of extra active people on my profile

You see there is a fine line between reporting an important (questionable) event in your life and giving second by second updates of what you are doing now. No, I do not want to know about your sudden need to inform your 400+ friends that you are bored. Clearly, you’re active on Facebook for a reason. Definitely, don’t want to know about your new found mole and what it might mean. There are medical practitioners for those things.

2. The Games

Thankfully the Farmville phase has finally ended (What? You’re still playing? I think the ‘Facebook Fashionables‘ are looking at you with a lot of disappointment right now) . If I heard one more person I was meeting physically mention their ‘ruined crop’ I would have smashed them. And not in the Facebook app way.

3. My Number of Friends Vs. Your Number of Friends

This battle resulted in, random people I had seen for at least more than 5 years of my life in school everyday yet never spoken to, adding me as their ‘friends’. Now it’s tricky, if you add them you’re just accepting their non-existent friendship but if you don’t you just might see them randomly some day and all you can think of is them thinking – ‘Bitch, never added me‘ and you’re thinking  ‘Damn, I should have added her to avoid the unsaid awkward confrontation.’ You see, it’s quite sticky.

4. Profile Chain

Now some of you may not realize this but when we log in to Facebook randomly, we’re not really looking to spend more than a few minutes on our profiles (stop glaring addicts, I know you spend all day on the darn site while you’re pretending to be busy on your computers at work). But for some of us, we just want to hop in and hop out. That’s not how it works though does it? You start with an innocent log in which usually results in randomly clicking on a comment or a video. This is all just working as per our original plan – BUT little do we realize, this is what’s really happening – suddenly the time is almost 20 minutes past your original allocated time, you’re on some random page or profile that you have basically nothing to do with and you have just ‘liked‘ 3 pages you have no real interest in and you’re about to click on a link / article / video only because 5 people you know think it’s awesome. So for some of us with a weak tolerance of random Facebook-ing, this can be prove to be rather exhausting and mind numbing.

5. ‘Awesome Life’ Update

Here’s the problem, like I said earlier, we all want an opportunity to flaunt our lives – hence, the complete devotion to making our lives ‘look’ (pay attention) – as breathtakingly amazing as possible and even if they aren’t we’ll add an ‘interesting twist’ to it. This incessant need to jazz up every small ‘detail’ of our lives – I fail to understand its mere purpose.

Cartoon Credit: The Boy

Case in point 1:

Current status in real time – Boss at work just gave you shit about some work you were supposed to do, things are relatively down for you today. Perfectly normal down, nothing to go over the moon about.

Current status on Facebook – Oh my God, Some people just suck so much. Looking forward to my ice cream this evening. (because we all care!)

Case in point 2:

[Abc & xyz are good friends. They meet at school, post school hang out with friends, probably are on each others’ fancy chat lists and also are on each other’s bbms (blackberry messengers dah-lings, try and cope now will you) through which they actively communicate – however here’s their conversation on Facebook]

abc: Xyzzzzz, i just saw x movie and omg he looks so hot and did you see him??

xyz: Yes, I saw I saw. And I didn’t tell you guess who I ran into. Wait I’ll bbm you.

abc: Who who? didn’t get your message yet. Btw, what a hottie pic of you and jklm [insert some hearts].

abc: OMG – I just got your message NOWAY! I’m so excited can’t wait to get more details.

xyz: I KNOW. Can’t wait to give you details. Wait, I’ll call you now or no wait I’ll bbm you. Thanks for the pic [insert heart] – I have a few more from that day just bbm-ing them to you.

abc: Nooooo, call me, omg I can’t wait to hear it all.

xyz: Okay calling calling.

Now that I have spent a significant time drafting this 1700 word post – I think I should move back to those finals I have next week!

Sick of the same old ‘rock’ for a wedding / engagement ring. Looking for an alternative that stands out? I may have just what you’re looking for. I say, this season ditch the the budget, the typical patterns / designs they show you in fancy jewelry shops and all those stones. They’re ‘stones’, remember?

My Chunky Pirate Ring

What you must notice is the size of that thing. Oh and yes it is a pirate. But I’m sure you agree, at first sight it is rather deceiving. My advice go the pirate way. Why? For starters, you have something to show when people ask you about your ‘ring’. Yes, those annoying queries about your ring and how pretty it must be. Secondly, Pirates of the Caribbean is all anyone and everyone will be talking about this season (handsome Mr. Depp ladies!).

Ignore the Hands - but check out the B&W Effect!!

I’m wearing the ring as I type this post do don’t even think I’m just fooling around. So my lovely simpletons, we always wanted to be different which is what makes us who we are. No harm in being a little bit crazy?

Note: Yes I have successfully pitched the idea to my boyfriend. He agreed with me. I think we’re still together?

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