Game of Thrones: Season 6 Review (Spoilers)

As much as it pained me to see King's Landing burn to ashes, taking down some of my favourite characters with it, I also derived perverse satisfaction watching the Mountain do whatever he did to Septa Unella. For a show that prides itself in its gory and violent themes, Season six was taken to a whole new level with the inclusion of several crucial pieces that had been long missing from the puzzle. From this season, we were able to discern Jon Snow's ancestry, watch Arya's transition from a No one to one of the bloodthirstiest assassins in the Seven Kingdoms, Cersei's return to being the evil mastermind, a fierce battle that was almost lost if not for Sansa's last minute improvisation and Ramsay's gruesome end at the hand of his hounds (or more accurately, jaws). Walder Frey's death after nearly devouring his son's remains in Arya's special Frey pie was as revolting as it was satisfying. I've never been much of a Daenerys fan particularly because the continuous repetition of one's ranking and titles gets tiring after a while, and as most of her powers were entitled to her by birthright. However, the dragons were a treat to watch, in addition to Tyrion's never ending monologues about nothing in particular. Furthermore, a showdown between Daenerys, Jon Snow and Cersei in Westeros would certainly be an entertaining prospect for the next season, and could culminate in some nasty bloodshed typical of GoT.  Rickon's five minutes of fame couldn't have been more tragic, signifying the rarity of  Stark reunions. The storyline of Arya's return to her former self seemed a bit bungled, leaving most of us wondering why the House of Black and White apprenticeship and punishment was necessary at all. For those of you wondering how the show will eventually end; this is Game of Thrones we're talking about. Anything can and will happen. Some burning questions we all have in relation to the upcoming Season 7 are: 

What does Littlefinger have planned up his sleeve? What's with that sly look he aimed at Sansa when Jon Snow was proclaimed the King of the North? 

Who will Daenerys marry? What will Jorah's fate be? I have an inkling of a feeling that Jon Snow will be less than thrilled to be in Daenerys's company and they'll probably be at odds with each other. 

Will Bran reveal Snow's parentage? What will Bran's role be taking into account his new found ability to look into both future and past and change them. What does Targaryen blood spell for Jon Snow, besides surviving flames and having an affinity for dragons? 

The Dorne plot was disappointing this season. I never recovered from Oberyn's unforgettable skull crushing scene and Ellaria's horror. Can't wait to see what's in store for their enemies.  

What will Jaime's reaction to the death of Tommen, the destruction of his home and the coronation of Cersei be? We cannot help but ponder the final prediction of Cersei being killed off by a certain younger brother.  Will Tyrion do the honors?

Who's next on Arya's deadly little hit list? Blood pudding anyone?  

What havoc is Melisandre going to create on behalf of her elusive Lord of Light, after being exiled from the North? 

And last, but definitely not the least, how do the horrifying white walkers and their king plan to strike? 

I love George Raymond Richard Martin and his penchant for writing about bastards. I truly do. 

McCrackin

It was a typical day of confused Melburnian weather, marking the end of a long winter and severe vitamin D deficiency. I stepped through the threshold to stretch my legs and take in a breath full of clean air, only to spot a stunningly handsome man vaguely resembling a cute rodent; and yammering feverishly into his phone. Wanting to avoid a confrontation and the predictable exchange of greetings, I silently hopped back into the room, prompting a clumsy bang of the door screen behind me. As anticipated, this drew the rat's attention, forcing me to meet his rather startled gaze with one of conviction. Before I could continue on to the kitchen for a cup of mocha, I couldn't help but notice the hurt visibly plastered on his beautiful features, betraying an anxiety that stemmed from a not-too-distant troubled past. This cat and mouse game of me avoiding him each time a confrontation was inevitable, carried on tediously for months. He was undeterred by my lack of response and proceeded to wave at me with childish glee, accompanied by a loud 'hallo' that begun to thaw at my icy reserve. His surprise at being offered a neighborly treat on Christmas eve was charming in a self-effacing way. The torment within his soul was, however, evident from the soul wracking melodies he played on his guitar, that would stretch across the night to tickle the constellations that were much too bright and much too oblivious to his pain. By the time I was ready to open up to him and his persistent attempts at befriending me, he'd finally met his match in a woman physically akin to a walrus. Gone were the days when he'd try to sneak inquisitive peeks into my transient home through partially shut blinds and make discomfiting and lengthy eye contact with me.  I still wonder to this very moment how things might have played out had I just let go of my inhibitions and given him a chance. Was it never meant to work and leave me stranded with regrets? It is highly probable that years of rejection, deceit and humiliation from the opposite gender, have erected a metaphorical wall around me that even the formidable white walkers from Game of Thrones wouldn't be able or willing to scale. 

My Saturday meal: Malaysian Assam Pedas Lobster Dish

Recipe:
I carrot (diced)
A bunch of spring onions (chopped)
Egg noodles (boiled separately and seasoned with salt)
Chopped Lobster balls (available at any Chinese/Malaysian store)
A dollop of Assam Pedas Paste (For fish recipes)

Mix the above ingredients in a Wok with pre-heated oil. Allow to cook for 15 minutes and Voila! Ready to be served.

THE DUNG BEETLE

When I'm mad at someone I usually just count to ten and get it over with, but it's proving impossible to do, when the loser shares a class with me. I can sense his desperation and loneliness a mile away, when his loser video-gaming buddies come over. It's like as though he's never had friends his entire life and feels compelled to shove that fact down the throats of his insignificant apartment-mates. The way he laps up all the attention and disgusting pet-name calling is so repulsive; it makes me feel like throwing up over and over again, straight into his sickeningly dull face. His protruding bulgy eyes, annoyingly hoarse voice, sparse crown of hair, shapeless face, and creepy/stalkerish aura drive me up the wall with the force of my gag reflex that acts up whenever he gets too close. He talks over the phone during day, trying to make himself seem more in-demand than he really is and spends the night serenading and making pathetic love to his laptop, since obviously no girl on this entire planet, would tolerate physical contact with him without wanting to puke out her dinner. His taste in clothes is shameful , making him look much like an overgrown 9-year old with a reversed aging disorder. He indulges in pretty much every self-destructive habit ever known to exist; dope, booze, chain-smoking, you name it.

I need to forget about him and erase all memories I've ever had with the douchebag, since nothing good can possible come out of knowing him. Furthermore, it kills me to know I made an effort to befriend him and be nice to him, despite all the cutting remarks and periods of silent punishment I had to suffer. I refuse to take any more crap from this latest crap-wallowing bug; and hopefully, if I succeed in ignoring the nasty creature it'll probably wallow in it's own poop elsewhere.

Change is in the air

I'm still putting up with the bitchy Bombaiite, the whistling Bill Gates wannabe, a moody Mexican and the freaked out Melbourne weather. It's only a matter of time before I lose my cool and blow up in the bitch's face, play a dangerous prank on the whistler and ask the latino out on a date. As for the weather, there's nothing much I can do except snuggle in blankets. According to numerology, 2014 is my number 9 year and the last year of a ten-year cycle which basically means this is the year to get rid of all that's dragging me down into the stagnant pool of the past. This would explain why I've been unable to tolerate most people and the bullshit they have to offer, lately. The whistling buffoon still hasn't come to terms with being in a beautiful country and just keeps shagging his Mac instead of leaving his geeky dungeon. The Bombay bitch thinks she's on top of the world and proceeds to dominate every situation she finds herself in. The cute Mexican is manipulative and unfocused, swinging from one extreme to another, while the rest of us struggle to maintain a balance between assignments and sleep. Strange to say, I've begun feeling strongly for him and this deep spiritual but platonic connection we share just pulls us closer to one another. I didn't want to think about it all this time fearing disappointment, but I can't keep my feelings for him at bay any longer. Waiting eagerly for next week when I purposely forget to wish birthday boy and have no classes to attend. Yippee. Did I mention my latest lesbian crush on Tina Arena?

On An Intense Winter Night

So, I'm bored and slightly angsty watching Vampire Diaries in my room and decide to stir things up a bit. I climb three flights of stairs till I reach the terrace and the beauty of the night just overwhelms me. And I realize what I'd been missing. I was hiding all along, from a part of myself that embraces the empty darkness, the chill and the danger of unfamiliarity. Playing 'Take my Breath Away' and 'I don't love you' on full volume on my iPOD, I begin snapping away with my cell cam. Here's what I captured in four shots. There's no way I'm putting them on Facebook; dumbasses there won't understand or even try to comprehend what I felt for those amazing ten minutes on the terrace, just me and the starlit heavens above.

Tragic Endings for Assholes

Cycledude:
Why?
Because all the emotional drama in my life began with him. Before him there was peace all round.

How does it have to end?
He goes cycling late at night, encounters the creepy smiling man on the way (See here) and gets chased right into a deep pit full of piranhas.

Preacherdude:
Why?
Suffered years of heartache thanks to him. Hate him.

How does it have to end?
He gets tricked into thinking he's on a pilgrimage, but accidentally stumbles upon a top-secret meeting of Yakuzas. His little finger is instantly chopped off as per Yakuza tradition, and slashety slash....that's the end of the rest of him.

Preacher dude's brother:
Why?
Because he's a little pansy who whines and thinks he's royalty from the medieval ages or Marie Antoinette or something.

How does it have to end?
He's deceived into thinking he owns a kingdom. While he carries on with his debauched ways, sleeping around with several maidens and a courtesan, one of them sets an asp free into his pants. He faints in a girly fashion and then passes away from the bites.

Knight of Wands
Why?
For making me wait 3 years and doing nothing at the end of it.

How does it have to end?
He's listening to his headphones as usual, when he suddenly gets a high voltage shock due to static electricity buildup and malfunctioning of his iPOD. He goes deaf and dies at the same time.

Gorilla-Pervert
Why?
For initially flirting with me, forcing me to tolerate his stench and later bitching about me while making life hell for my project group in third year.

How does it have to end?
A couple of gorillas seduce him into their cages and ass-rape him to death for the entire zoo to see.

DistilleryDude
Why?
For making my first kiss the worst and least memorable as well as for drilling the significance of his caste, religion and job into my brain repeatedly.

How does it have to end?
With a passionate kiss from a Sumo wrestler, a long steamy shower and intimacy soon after. You can imagine how that would end.

Lying Dickhead
Why?
For lying to me about him still seeing his ex and expecting me to anticipate dates for which he'd never turn up.

How does it have to end?
He takes his cheap girlfriend to a seedy bar cum restaurant, where he orders for a plate of burgers. The catch? The burgers are filled with ground-up glass resulting in a slow and painful death for the two of them.

Whistler
Why?
For acting like a psychotic prick; talking to me one minute and ignoring me the next. And also for whistling, slamming doors, jumping on his bed and making beeping sounds when I'm exhausted and eager for some shut-eye.

How does it have to end?
He plays video games on his laptop, when his operating system is all of a sudden infected with a deadly virus. His laptop shuts down, triggering an emotional tantrum from its owner who is sucked up by the frustrated virus and pixelated to fit into the system. He is stuck there for an eternity, with no way out and as good as dead.

Caught in The Web of Destiny

Before things get too hectic with assignments and presentations, I thought I'd mention life at the amazing university I'm currently studying at as well as it's lovely campus.Walking back after lectures, I pass the Ian Potter Museum of Art and plan strategically how the rest of my day should go. The icy cold wind hits me and I pull my jacket around me tighter, wondering if it would still be dreadfully cold the next day. And if so, then how I'd wake myself up the next morning from the heavy slumber winter tends to trap us in. I plan my day's shopping at Aldis and Queen Vic market, hoping the whistling geek next door would have the foresight and caring, to pop up magically out of nowhere and help me with the bags. Better still, I wish we could both go shopping together. Him, with his usual skepticism and I, stuck in my daydreams. After we arrive back home, I'd prepare a meal for the two of us followed by a trip to the park nearby and gaze silently into the rippling water of the fountains. Oh, how I despise building castles in the air, only to have them completely demolished by time and our respective careers. Something tells me that I'll never meet so kindred a spirit as you, ever again and to grab hold of these precious moments and fantasies while they last. I  hope that day at the wishing well beside the Cathedral did the trick. Dearly hope it did.

Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) - Best Kiss Scene Ever!

In a gender-reversed version of his previous hit Pretty in Pink, John Hughes retreads all-too- familiar ground in Some Kind of Wonderful, the story of a sensitive, young would-be artist, Keith , who vies for the affection of his high school's popularity queen, Amanda (Lea Thompson), seemingly out of some deep-rooted insecurity regarding his social ineptitude. He enlists the help of his butch best friend and fellow misfit, Watts, unaware that she secretly pines for him. While she goads him to give up his pointless pursuit of Amanda, he encounters one other small obstacle -- Amanda's rich bully of a boyfriend, Hardy who threatens Keith with a face rearrangement. Undeterred, Keith decides he will, by any means necessary, escort his dream girl to the prom -- but not before he buys her expensive jewelry with the money from his college fund in order to impress her.  -Rottentomatoes

Why I'm Going to Miss True Blood Forever

• Things are way more messed up in Bontemps as they are in the world we experience. Imagine a vampire's face appearing at the window in the dark when you're about to get into bed. Or being confronted with a werewolf when you're going for a pee in the bushes during a nightly stroll. It makes us realize how safe we truly are, away from supernatural elements...with no one to fear but ourselves, other human beings and the rest of the animal kingdom.

• It's comforting in a twisted way to know that the characters of the television series suffer way more than we do, until their imminent deaths. It makes suffering and misery seem really cool. It's as though the more problematic your life is, the more you can relate to the lives of the main characters.

• It glamorizes Death. Some of people's worst fears are always connected with Death such as the fear of heights, dolls or clowns. Heights aren't what really scare us; it's the fact that jumping all that distance may be leading us to the ultimate end. People may not think about their lives eventually coming to an end, but its the most deep seated fear in all of us. No matter how tired and bored of living we may seem, we do value our lives highly.

• The vampires just don't give a damn about anything. Speak their minds without thinking twice, go about murdering people like roaches, shag anything that moves and hurl about torrents of verbal abuse, despite the fact that they aren't really immortal and can cease to exist with a wooden stake through their hearts. That seems to really highlight the aphorism 'Carpe diem' and kick us out of the rut we've stuck ourselves in by being too cautious. You're just going to die in the end anyway. No one wins, no one loses. Not even an amoeba.

• Alcide, Jason, Eric and Sam happen to be my most interesting fictional crushes ever. So much alpha masculine power packed into one TV show. Sigh.

• You're either bad or good. No sugar icing bullshit. It's one of the two extremes. There are hardly any characters who merge in with the background and remain neutral or undivided between the two extremes. Every character seems to have a dark side to them that is exposed eventually. You tend to admire them for who they are, no matter how diabolically calculating they may seem. Not even gentlemanly Bill can seem angelic for very long.

• And last of all, there won't be anything worthwhile to look forward to on TV on a Sunday. No more squishy vampire guts, needless violence, graphic adult scenes or emotional drama to stir you out of your lazy weekend slumber.