Allow me to smother you with clues that get dumber by the step.

Uno:Teardrops falling from my shoulder, left side
Dos:Basketball (1994-1996) was my buffer and got me into UNC as a point guard freshman
Tres:Drugs have indirectly beaten me down in life (me, C.J. and Tim)
Cuatro:I call USA and Belize (Central America) my home
Cinco:Sydney, Australia year 2000, I can never forget
Seis:My records include 100m(10.65), 200m(21.62), 300m(35.68), 400m(49.59), Long jump(7.31)
Siete:First female track and field athlete to win five medals at a single Olympics

If you still ain't got it, google the last clue. I have made sure the rest were not google friendly.

..Ain't gonna do you no good at all

I've always wanted to be a lyricist. Think about it, you get paid to write stuff like "I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in...." or "..lucky that my breasts are small and humble so you dont confuse them with mountains" and if you're lucky millions of people will be humming it, giving you zero credit unless you also happen to be the singer or guitarist. No, even drummers do not get that kinda recognition except from fans that don't download the songs from a p2p network and make it a point to read the fine print in the covers. Make that like 15% of the people in the world. So, to be a successful lyricist is not easy because you first need to be an aweosme guitarist and/or singer, Which is why I am compelled to crooning in my shower/car and thump on the guitar ignoring neighbours downstairs who I presume are using inverted mops to play pokemon on their ceiling. Yes, I do not get subtle hints. In fact, hit me in the face with a subtle hint and I will twitch my nose searching for that strange breeze that caught my attention. Heyyyyy, getting back to the point, I am already a part-time lyricist and will prove it to you. I twist existing songs and provide new lyrics whenever I dont get the actual ones, which makes me a copy-artist but a lyricist nevertheless. Remember that hip-hop number Tipsy by J-Kwon, well I used to go, and be warned this is neither amusing nor interesting, "EVerbody in the club in Texas" cuz I was in Texas at that time, and a L'ist was born. This is when I realized there was no future for me in the L'ist industry cuz I sucked at it so bad that I could have given the entire
Vogon fleet a run for their money, but I do still carry on singing and thumping for I hope one day the world starts liking sucky lyrics, then I will come out and croon to the swooning crowds. Until then my words will stay burried in my shower.

Harry Potter and the Dark Lord are engaged in a frightening duel. Harry took a lot of damage to his hand in the previous tussle to free Hermoine from the clutches of Snape. An already weakened hand cannot fight Voldermort and Harry shows signs of great strain locked in against the steady flow from Voldermeort's wand. Suddenly, Harry is reminded of the Epic's class from last semester and quickly mutters the words "Mahaaaabhaaaarattthhhh" almost singing it. A shadowy figure arises behind him. Bheeshma blows the conch signalling end of war for the sun has gone down. The dark lord knows the rules and moves back into his den. Harry can now recharge and prepare for battle the next day.

First of, let me mention that I am deeply hurt by my fan base to this blog. My first post has been lying here for more than six months, yet no one responded, I have not been invited to any blog conferences, nor have I been praised for bringing a very important topic to the forefront. I was tempted to leave my first post be for another six months, instead I chose to take the hint and talk on other lines. I decided to comment on others blogs, hows that.

My favourite blog nowadays is chicklitindia. It is so easy to read, almost feels like she's talking to you. Early on I had my doubts if it was a guy faking, but I would very much prefer it if table-mannered was a real girl from Dilli, so I chose to believe in that. A close second has to be the ever popular Megha, her blog is rarely maniacal, if at all, it is a sweet intelligent mind that pens those posts. Of course, thanks to woorkeri wittynathan (who has used more brands of soap than most of us) for introducing me to Megha and the hidden world of blogs-so-fine. Apparently there's more but I prefer to stick to something until it ceases to be interesting, much like Costanza's boss. I solemnly swear to heavily reduce quoting from Seinfeld, Friends and Fresh-Prince from this day onwards. While on that note, I also swear to use fillers like "dude : you know : like : kinda" much lesser. I will provide links to the blogs mentioned earlier in due time (aka when I feel like it). For fine writing there is ofcourse Samanth's place on blogspot, but being a journalist shows in his refined posts, loss of casuality is apparent. Finally there's Dhammo and FieFoFum providing us with 'marathons, eventful train journeys and trivial pursuits' and 'dry sarcasm, yes sarcasm with more juice squeezed out of it, camouflaged by his innovative attempts at photography' respectively.