Siana Bangura: Week 8
This week SIANA enjoys the little things, such as random, useless nuggets of facts.
I am the master of procrastination. I have been known to kill five hours plus with ease, and have very little to say for myself.
And this week my attempts to delay writing my supervision essay led me to discover a world of weird and wonderful (new) facts that I can now use as dinner table banter when conversation runs dry and my wine glass gets dangerously close to being empty. Now, as the end of term draws ever closer and the great finishing line seems so near and yet so bloody far, it’s the small things that keep me amused and at a safe distance from ‘the edge’.
As it’s been an almighty dull week – I have nothing new to rant about and I haven’t gone through my weekly process of self-discovery – I thought I’d simply share some of my favourite ‘facts’ that I came across. I don’t expect you to appreciate them as much as I do (if at all) but I’m going to share anyway.
At the start of my week, I noticed that at least once a month there is some sort of ‘National’ day being celebrated and apparently the 19th of November is ‘National Have a Bad Day’ day. Well, that explains why that Monday was particularly shit. Only another eleven months and twenty-five days to go until the next one.
Next, whilst I was scanning through the Urban Dictionary to sharpen my hood lingo and maintain my street cred, I thought I’d get a ‘proper’ definition of this term ‘SWAG’ because I find it so annoying and corny, and yet I am fascinated by how many people use it in their common parlance. It seems that it is not just a nonsense catchphrase used by, and I quote, ‘Wannabe gangstas, douchebags, and tools everywhere’. Aside from being a debauch deviation from ‘gentlemanly swagger’, I hear that it was not only the title of a 1976 crime novel by Elmore Leonard, but ‘The Swag’ was a magazine published quarterly for Catholic priests in Australia. I didn’t go as far to find out what was written in such a publication. I was too busy imagining a Catholic priest in low-riders, high-tops, and a snap-back.
Mid-week I chose a map from Google and picked a random place I’d like to visit. I discovered a place in France called Grenoble. It sounds more like a cereal bar to me than an actual place but I vow to become more cultured. After this discovery, I then decided to Google my name (don’t even tell me you’ve never done that) and was reminded that it is a village in the Jalore district of Rajsthan. I hear I have a population of 9,994 people.
In other news, ‘recent studies show’ that the average person laughs thirteen times a day. I definitely laugh more times than that in the day, but before I had time to think on this too much, I stumbled across another ‘study’ that claims French kissing can prevent cavities. Any aspiring dentists out there who fancy explaining this to me please holler. On a similar note, I learnt that Ramses II (apparently) fathered over 160 children. That’s so much sex, and so many women scorned.
As I don’t foresee myself having as much sex as Ramses to pass the time when I’m not working or procrastinating, I entertained the thought of growing my nails out and challenging the current Guinness World Record holder, whose combined nail length averages out to approximately twenty feet. It’s the most innovative method of making sure you cop a feel of your own ovaries but it sounds like a lot of effort. In any case, after all that wasted time, I needed one more push to get my essay done. For some people, all it takes is a quick bop to ‘Eye of the Tiger’ on full volume. For me, I needed a quick look at a picture that never fails to reduce me to inconsolable tears of laughter (mascara, eyeliner, and drool everywhere): The man who looks like a thumb.
He REALLY REALLY does look like a thumb. Check out the picture and thank me later.
And on that note… back to the grind.