      |
|---|
In my iPod: Into the Fire (alternate) - Marilyn Manson[download]
State of mind: Scarred
Location: Bhopal, India
Judging from the fucking title, you can safely assume that I have been listening a little too much to Marilyn Manson's The High End of Low. But when it comes to shinning my idol's ass, I cannot talk too much or too highly of him. But I am just going to spare you about Marilyn Manson's new CD that is due for release on the 26 May 2009. How I got this soon to be release album has a lot to do with the beauty of the internet and the people who is always thinking about others like me; a kind Samaritan has bought the pre–released CD, ripped it, placed it on file sharing site and spare me the eternal wait. Alright already, enough of Marilyn Manson; from now onwards, I totally give you my word that this post isn't about licking his ass and how awesome his new CD is.
You fucking know what, I think India has finally taken its toll on me, even though I may be diarrhea free (for now) but my fucking face is starting to show. I can't pinpoint to what directly contributed to my facial rape but I think everything sort of add up cumulatively in a gangbang way to leave my face as it is today. Fucked up complexion, gigantic and visible pores, chicken pox like tiny red dots all over my fucking forehead are some of the fucking symptoms that is plaguing my fucking face at this moment; the main one is the side of my nose; they are so fucking red that one might assume that I was using some red tone blusher to make it rosy. Fuck! Initially, I wanted to fucking blame it on not bringing my Miracle water product along, but come to think of it, it is not that. The fucking heat and amount of dirt and crap in the water here have also play a fucking good part but to top it all, I think my act of going full circle and taking a fucking dip in the world's most polluted river has sealed my fate. So yeah, I totally screw myself over and I have no one to fucking blame but myself.
I was so not in the fucking mood that I totally left my eye brow unattended; with a complexion like this, I wouldn't give a fuck if my eyebrow grows into a fucking bush and join in the middle. Fuck! It is days like these that I wished that it is common for a guy to carry a compact to cake up some makeup and not being look at as a fucking queer. But did I tell you that there are another 7 tracks extra if you purchase the deluxe edition of Marilyn Manson's New CD the High End of Low; which totally makes sense to do so, because the best song in the lot is found in his bonus disc. Oh, I did thought about going to get some facial done on my last day in Varanasi but with a sign like this, I would rather take my chances on just letting it be.
I left a day later than I intended because I was feeling rather frail and weak and I don't think I could go through the ordeal of being cramped inside a curry scented train compartment jammed packed with hundreds of sweaty motherfucking Indians again. So I booked a flight the next day to Bhopal. You know apart from being call the City of Lakes because of the natural and manmade lakes that surrounds it, I am not really sure what Bhopal has to fucking offer. I was told to head here first before Mumbai. So I guess I just need to open my big fucking mouth and ask around in order to find out what's the fucking deal with Bhopal. But first things first, I needed somewhere to lay my ass down for the night. I thought I would slightly pampered myself this time round; so instead of going to the cheapest hotel or inn, I opt for something a little more comfortable and comes with a clean crapping throne, so that I do not need to shit standing up.
So my favorite track to Marilyn Manson's The High End of Low is "Into the Fire (alternate version)"; anyway, back to less important things, as you can see (below), even though it may not be Hilton standard but it was much better than the last 2 hotels I have been in. The totally fake tiger skin print decoration on the wall does gives it an exotic feel but it totally clashes with the bed that comes with it. As a matter of fact, the fucking bedsheet looks like someone's Sarong. Fuck! It fucking feels queer to sleep on a sarong, especially one that looks like it was worn by a guy.
Oh…Did I tell you that you can read my review on Marilyn Manson's new CD HERE... On this part of the room, I think it is a total mismatch; rags and coffee table that could easily be passed as furniture from a 2 star hotel but they had to fucking use plastic chairs. They should totally fire or sack the room interior decorator of this establishment.
