As the Indian monsoon set in and the roads turned murky with suspicious flotsam and jetsam bobbing merrily into gutters, potholes and other unfortunate orifices, the damp air appeared to have affected the workings of otherwise rational human minds.
Monsoon madness, it would appear, is upon us.
How else could you explain why Bin would hurl a whole bottle of Bacardi Breezer in the Ant’s face, mistaking the figure skulking by her car to be a -- of all things -- a watermelon thief? Never mind that there may have been laptops, mobile phones, wallets and other valuables lying carelessly about -- oh, no sirree, that crouching form must most certainly have come for watermelons. This begs the question -- what watermelons? I have no answer to that one, simply because there were none in the vicinity. A more likely explanation would be that Bin has been afflicted by the monsoon madness.
The madness does not end there.
No doubt the deluge of Jamaican Passion upon the Ant’s face coupled with the shock of being pronounced a watermelon thief had a more damaging impact on the Ant’s brain than initially suspected. Some days later, in the midst of a mundane conversation, I mentioned something to the effect of “I will give her a call” or something equally bland. The Ant went saucer-eyed before exclaiming, “What! KO has nipple rings?”
I was completely befuddled. How on earth did a completely innocuous statement suddenly transform into something with earth-shattering implications? I mean, if KO sports radical pieces of jewellery, I can bet my bottom paisa that the pope would sport a tattoo -- if you get my drift.
KO reacted with the expected level of shock and horror when accused about her “dirty little secret”. The allegation, born out of a much mildewed mind, had a profound impact on the poor lass. She packed her bright red suitcase, wrapped a brighter green ribbon around it and presented herself at Oo’s doorstep in Ireland, calling herself an early Christmas present. I haven’t seen her in almost a month. (Read KO’s Irish escapades here)
The only apparently unaffected soul is BC, who appears to have pulled through the dreary weather relatively unscathed. However, considering that even BC has been babbling something about her being possibly kidnapped and taken back as a price bride for the Kikuyu people, I might just have to resign myself to the fact that I seem to be the sole survivor of this drizzly season.
I am Legend! Woot!
(As you can probably tell, Basically Blah has no material to blah about and is looking to incite a riot. My apologies to my regular readers, especially the ones who take all that time and effort to Google my blog every single day!)