Tagged like a grocery item

So Yokie comes over to my little chatterbox and tells me that I've been tagged. Bugger that. So Fikri and I held a little "conference" (that lasted nothing more than 12.6 seconds) and decided that blog-tagging does NOT constitute as part of blogger ethics. After all, I use my blog as my online portfolio of my creative works. Despite all this, in my magnanimous nature, I have taken it upon myself to respond, not out of obligation, but out of friendship.

In lieu of this, I would like to take this opportunity to remind everybody that I do this ALL the time on Friendster (for those of you that don't know), and that my blog is strictly for, well "blogging". So if anyone else should tag me after this, I am under no pressure or obligation whatsoever to respond.

Now that I've said my piece, on to the "whatever" I'm supposed to do.

And it goes like this:

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Edwin Aegnor I
2. Eddie G.
3. Sorhai!

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. Eddie G. says, "On this Planet, you will die. I have seen it"
2. His Grace Lord Edwin Aegnor, Highchancellor of Redundance and the close-lying Realms of Hogwash and Snot
3. All Beautiful Things Go "Splat"

THREE THINGS THAT YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Wasting my time and my effort on an illusion
2. An always-almost-empty wallet
3. An inexplicable, yet unentirely unwelcomed arrogance

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. My "pointed" ears, obviously of Elvish descent
2. My aloof nature, inherited also from the Elven community
3. A tendency to get bored easily, apparently inherited from my mother

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Fear itself
2. The notion that I've to share this World with mortals
3. Coming to an end of myself

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. My wits
2. My sanity (on the verge of being taken from me)
3. *Her* smile

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Shirt
2. Shorts
3. Shoes (dammit what else am I supposed to say? My th- nevermind)

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Abdul's Discount Camels (naturally *hehz*)
2. "Weird Al" Yankovic
3. Smash Mouth

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS:
1. "Weird Al" Yankovic - Everything You Know Is Wrong
2. Smash Mouth - Always Gets Her Way
3. "Moronic Tendencies" written by Eddie G.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Someone whom I can provide for and love unconditionally
2. Knowing that no matter what, we'll always be there for each other
3. The ability to turn the simplest of things into something really, really special

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. As I've said before, the smile
2. Engaging and enchanting eyes
3. Possessing grace and elegance (subtle or otherwise) in all that she does

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Computer gaming! (This is what I live for, baby!)
2. Writing and composing
3. Archery (I figured that Cupid is probably sleeping on MY job and it's probably going to be a matter of time before I decide to take matters into my own hands)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. GO BACK TO SINGAPORE!!! And jam my worries away
2. Meeting up with my peeps in the Fine City to catch up with old times
3. Sing in a choir once more (I missed those times dreadfully)

THREE PEOPLE WHO FOLLOW IN MY WAKE: (ADHERING TO MY OWN PRINCIPLES, I SHALL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU)
1. Lee Weng Fong (just so to prove that the wanker NEVER visits my blog! pfah!)
2. Leanne Crystal Lim (no running away for you, dearest)
3. Yong Sze Mun (swear and curse at me all you want, why else do you think I put your name here? Muahahahahaaaaaaa!)

p.s. And since you've come this far, why not take the time to read the preceding post "The Curse of Being Eddie G. II" as well. I promise you will not be disappointed. :)

The Curse of Being Eddie G. II

By Eddie G.

I awoke to find myself in the Cathedral of Shattered Emotions, not knowing how I had initially ended up there. Typical. I never had full grasp on where I was heading anyway, which made it all the more amusing whenever I would try to remember which tavern I was at the night before. The sunlight filtered through the stained glass of the Cathedral window, casting my face as the backdrop of a prismatic spray. I closed my eyes as I allowed the technicolour sunshine to warm my face. I knew full well I had a reputation for sleeping in church, but this must surely take the cake.

All around me I heard hushed whispers and distressed weeping. Not uncommon in church, if you ask me. No confession would be complete without a good amount of self-effacing. Still I kept my eyes closed; let them think that they're closed in reverential reflecting; let them realize that I'm holier than they are because I've got nothing to mourn about.

Nothing, save for myself.

I awoke to find myself in the Cathedral of Shattered Emotions, not knowing how I had initially ended up there. Typical. I figured to myself that it was probably noon. No longer was the sun glaring at my pathetic existence through the stained glassed; the masonry of the Cathedral ceiling saved me that discomfort. The whispering and weeping had ceased, not that it really mattered. I allowed my gaze to wander across the elaborate strip tiles of the ceiling, occasionally coming to rest on the odd gargoyle statues that glared nonchalently back at me.

"You awaken, child," one of them had said. "You were not supposed to."

"You should talk," I shot back.

"True, true," it had said. "Go back to sleep then, and so shall I."

I awoke to find myself in the Cathedral of Shattered Emotions, not knowing how I had initially ended up there. Typical. The sun was already about to set, and it filled my heart with trepidation. Perhaps it wasn't the dark that I feared, but rather the cold, irrefutable truth that lurked within. I raised myself up on my elbows. Pathetic. After so many hours of sleep and still so weak. The silk interior of my casket lured me return to where I was.

No. Not this time.

As I got out of the casket, I took slow deliberate steps across the Cathedral and stalked out of the great double doors. A crowd of mourners looked up at me, and screamed.

"Hark! The Necromancer has raised himself!" cried one of them. Chaos and pandemonium pervaded the very last fibre of each and every of their being.

I grabbed the one who had cried out by the collar and pulled him closer.

"Hypocrite!" I hissed, "didn't your Lord raise Himself after the Third Day?"

"Do not blaspheme my Lord, Necromancer! Only He has the power over life and death!"

"Fool!" I cried, tossing him aside like a sack of potatoes, "we all have the power over our own lives... and our own deaths. Now I choose to live, just like how I had chosen... to die."

The one who had cried out rose to his feet to catch up with the rest of the panicking crowd. Good riddance to them. I never liked the roses anyway. One by one, they disappeared into the horizon.

But she remained.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Edwin?"

I swept past her, my burial clothes trailing in my wake, a makeshift of the iridescent black cloaks that we Necromancers would wear.

"Answer me!" she cried, "Why do you do this to yourself?"

I turned briefly to face her.

"Because I want to."

I returned into the Cathedral of Shattered Emotions, walked up to the casket in which I once had lain, and closed it.

After a moment's worth of deliberation, I opened it again. I might need it again one day. Through it all, her voice rang clear and strong.

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

There was one thing left for me to do. I shuffled painfully to the confession box.

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

Closing the door behind me, hearing her voice being drowned out by the overwhelming silence, I knelt.

"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned."

"Repentance is the key to redemption, my son. How is it that you have sinned?"

I awoke to find myself in my own casket of a bed, in my own Cathedral of a room. And this time, gazing out of the stained glass of my tears, I knew how I ended up here.

"I still love her..."

William's Wicked Weasels

Once upon a time, there was a man called William the Wicked. Now William was nothing short of a sniveling, conniving little bastard who'd love nothing more than to see the people of the World suffer. But of course, ever since the dawn of time, there have been people like that.

Unlike the norm, William the Wicked devised an almost foolproof plan to take over the World. Of course, that was what every mad scientist would claim - that they're plan was foolproof, and that no matter how much their doofus lackeys would witlessly screw up, the plan would inevitably succeed. Their misplaced confidence oft led to their own downfalls, with the works. Scrambler Beams would well, scramble everything up, inadvertently disemboweling the scientist; Death Rays would live up to their name, usually as far as their creators were concerned; Red Buttons would always fail to be pushed at the opportune moment, resulting in comical albeit messy aftermaths; oh, and of course there was the case of meddling superheroes who always always ALWAYS spoil the bloody show just as they're about to succeed.

However, William the Wicked really did invent something that would result in the destruction of the World. He called it "William's Wicked Weasels", or WWW for short.

"First, we shall release the Weasels into selected households," explained William the Wicked to Gucci-Goo, his teddy bear, who didn't really show much inclination to pay attention (for obvious reasons), "and then, people will start talking about how cute and useful the Weasels are. And then in a matter of years, everyone will want a Weasel too."

On cue, William the Wicked broke into a fit of maniacal laughter. It was hard to break away from genre.

"Soon, every household will have themselves a Weasel. And they will tell the Weasels everything, from their credit card number to how they like steak done. They will form an inseparable bond with the Weasels. They will live with them, sleep with them, talk about them, hold forums about them, debate about the ethics on keeping them. And before you know it, they will be totally dependent on them."

More maniacal laughter. He was really getting good at this.

"And finally, when they least expect it, the Weasels will latch on to them, sucking their blood dry. But they will be too attached for them to let go. I will know their deepest, darkest secrets, because the Weasels will tell me. And I will exploit them, and they will be powerless to respond in kind! Muahah- Gucci-Goo, are you listening to me?!?!"

That was a long time ago. Today, William the Wicked sits on his little throne, the metaphoric testicles of the World held snugly in his Right Hand, and Gucci-Goo in his left. Yes. After so, so long, William the Wicked succeeded in destroying the World. You don't believe me? Well the Weasels are all around us now. You can find them on Google at www...