BOREDOM

[NGONGE]

I saw a pigeon carrying a small branch today. It was not a leaf it was a branch! It was an amazing image and it got me thinking. I do not know what YOU would think when seeing such an image. Would you think of god and his creations? Would you think of inspiring things in life? Would you feel sorry for such a small bird carrying something almost twice its size? A peace dove with an olive branch? Surely you must think of something when faced with such a vision!

 

I thought about photography. I want to take up photography. In fact, I tried to take a photo of the pigeon with the branch but the silly bird was camera shy and flew away before I could focus my camera phone on it. This is why I thought about photography. If I had a proper camera on me at all times I would have been ready and the bird would not have flown away.

 

I want to take pictures of birds, drunks, coughing frogs and cringing cats. I want to capture all the amazing images I see. I want to become the best photographer ever and gift the world with impossible pictures. Like with everything else in life, I already know I am good. I just need to learn to work a camera and understand all the tricks of that particular trade. The pictures themselves will be easy; I have an eye for these things.

 

 

Maybe if they invented a camera that can go inside your eye and take pictures as you blink! Maybe then I will be the best ever. I would take pictures of beautiful women with short skirts and hairy legs, men with tight trousers and pot bellies, children sticking pencils up their noses and dogs sniffing their own bottoms. I have an eye for these things. I see these things every day.

 

My pictures will be shown in all the famous galleries of the world and pretentious photography fans will cluster round them discussing the philosophy behind the photograph. But I will smile enigmatically and give them vague replies.

 

 

I will get invited to celebrity parties but I will politely decline. Because I know that should I go to such places, the dense celebrities will coax me into wasting my art on them and take pictures of them drunkenly licking each other’s armpits or something.

 

I will become a recluse and spend months in my own house chasing a cockroach that hid under the floorboards in my kitchen and attempting to take an award winning photo of him. I refer to the cockroach as ‘him’ because after months of chasing him we are going to develop a bond and become best mates. I will call him Harry because he has a red head and lives in a palace. People may scoff and sneer. They may say that my house is not a palace but it is, to Harry. Half of his cousins live in a sewer and he lives under the floorboards of my clean kitchen. Even Confucius would agree it is a palace. For all we know, he probably already agreed. I mean we don’t know everything that Confucius said in his time. I can imagine a time when he mentioned a sewer and a palace in the same sentence. All philosophers and famous-words people do. It has something to do with the way excrement is the lowest thing possible. When I say lowest I don’t mean in the moral or philosophical sense. I mean literally. It goes down and, usually, it stays down. Well, unless you are some sort of astronaut with a faulty space suit. This would actually make a great photograph!

 

I will not only take photos of incontinent astronauts. I will also take photos of great people. THE QUEEN will beg me to take her photo. The Pope will send me several grovelling cardinals. The Saudi king will bribe me with an island in Peru.

 

I will become more famous and respected than David Attenborough. People will flock to me for advice on photography. Journalists will ask me to comment on great war photographs. At first, I would only comment on the photographs themselves. But with time and more questioning I will start giving my opinion on all subjects. If David Attenborough can stop chasing monkeys and start giving precious opinions about global warming and the fate of the world we live in, I too can give advice on how a size twelve woman can appear slimmer by wrapping herself in industrial duct tape. Of course, she will have to choose her colours correctly and fashion them in the style of a tight fitting dress.

 

 

I will become as famous as Mandela, Maradonna and Madonna. Poor children in conflict zones will be seen wearing shirts with my photographs on them as they fled from yet another enemy bombardment. Spoilt rich eccentrics will bid millions just for the privilege of having one of my creations adorning their badly decorated living rooms. Some famous journalist will contact me to write my autobiography and the first thing I will tell him will be about the day I was in two minds about going to lunch and the inspirational pigeon with the branch. English Heritage will place a blue plaque were the legendary pigeon stood. For without the pigeon there won’t be Harry or me.

 

One day when I am old and frail, as I bend down to take a photo of some copulating moths, the excitement will get the better of me and my heart will stop. The world will weep and, like a boring festival of peace, someone will organise for a thousand white doves to be released on the day of my funeral. A bored man trying to decide what to do for lunch will spot them fluttering in the sky and he’ll have an idea! He’ll become a photographer of porn. I wish I had his job, man.

[N.O.R.F]

Originally posted by NGONGE:

Airplanes in the park

 

Today, I saw an airplane. I can’t tell what airline it was. I was walking in the park and the airplane was far away in the sky. I kept on walking while looking up and trying to work out what country that plane belongs to. I then noticed that the plane wasn’t going that fast. I knew it was going really fast but to my naked eye it didn’t seem as if it was! I lowered my head and looked ahead. The park was almost empty and my path forward was clear. I looked up at the airplane and noticed that it was a “couple of meters†ahead of me. I looked ahead again then looked up at the plane. I started running and looking up at the plane. I almost caught up with it. I started thinking of the Olympics. I should have been at the Olympics! I started thinking of running the 100 meters in Athens. Is there enough time left for me to make it there? Could I win it? Of course I could. I’ve just beaten a plane, man. What’s the speed of mere mortals when compared to a 747? I started dreaming of lining up against world record holders and wanna bees. I knew I had the beating of all of them. I started thinking of my preparations for the race. I’ll need to work on my running style. I’ll need to stick to my lane. I’ll need to know how to get out of the blocks quickly enough. Aaah! Blocks? I had no blocks when I beat the plane. Aaah, plane? What are the chances of a plane flying past just as the gun goes at the start of the Olympic 100 meter final?

I decided to run the marathon instead.

Do you run the marathon saxib?

[NGONGE]

^^ With my current weight problems?

[Ibtisam]

Ngonge you must make yourself useful and start writing again. This thread use to help me fill all those hrs when everyone is asleep.

[N.O.R.F]

Ngonge, tell us about it

 

ps remember I said I would send some of your stories to the media? I just did

[NGONGE]

^^ Where? What?

[N.O.R.F]

^Bal sug uun adigu. If they print it tomorrow I will send you the link.

[NGONGE]

^^ A UAE paper? Oh that lot will print anything. They have to cater for the 'Rajo' mindset.

[Ibtisam]

Ngonge Remember you wanted to be on TV? Shall I send a referral your way? Under the Skin of khat chewers

[cynical lady]

@ibti

[Ibtisam]

^^I'm serious, what are you LoLing about @ CL. Ngonge chews from time to time.

[NGONGE]

^^ Chewing once a year doesn't qualify me, I think.

[Faheema.]

^Early signs of an addict...denial

[cynical lady]

That explains it....