The Hundred and Thirty Fourth Award Ceremony

THE #GRAMMYs ARE IN FOUR DAYS!!!!! I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SO EXCITED Y’ALL!! [Well, I’m also kind of sour about the whole affair, considering how I was SUPPOSED to have gotten my big break by now and should’ve been up there performing one of my numerous #1 singles with Sam Smith instead of lounging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn that either has too much pepper or too little salt -Oh wait, I can’t even do THAT because 1) I’m a dog and dog’s aren’t allowed on the furniture and 2) Popcorn is apparently “bad” for us canines so I can’t even binge on THAT!! -Although I’m sure that all these diet restrictions have been imposed on us poor creatures just so that humans can hog all the London Dairy Tiramisu ice cream in the fridge and not offer us any but still feel good about it- Gawd, being me doesn’t just majorly SUCK, it STINKS TO THE HIGH HEAVENS]

I can’t WAIT WAIT WAIT to watch all those divalicious performances and [not to mention] crazy dance moves busted by some of our favorite pop stars. But most of all, I can’t WAIT to watch Queen Bey get awarded Album of the Year!! [FINALLY!!!] See, i’ve got it all worked out; from all the nominees, the only album that is capable of winning against Bey’s LEGENDARY surprise album is Beck’s. But it’s only CAPABLE. Will it WIN?? Not in this world, Becky Boy!!

I mean, take a moment to think about it; between XO and Flawless, Drunk in Love and Pretty Hurts, our Sasha Fierce leaves not much space for criticism. How could she possible NOT win?! I mean, this is BEYONCÉ we’re talking about!!

Oof, all this fangirling has got me hungry. Time to scout the dustbins for suitable leftovers!!

The Hundred and Thirty Third Bonus


I’m probably the last person you’d turn to for exam advice. Heck, I’m the last person I’d ask for a helping hand when it comes to making Chemistry notes or tidying-up a packed schedule.

But that’s only because I am the most put-it-away-for-later kind of person who’s ever walked the face of the earth, and for ONCE, I am SO not exaggerating [OK, maybe a little].

Sure, I MEAN well. I make all sorts of timetables and programmes and to-do lists and in my mind, I’m always thinking stuff like, “By tomorrow, I should be finished with this chapter as well as those Algebra formulas, so that by next week, I will only have one lesson to complete,” and all sorts of other academic baloney. And, to be honest, in my MIND, everything is always running smooooothly.

But in reality?? Things are much, MUCH different.

For example, my brain thinks I’m all prepared for the exams. I mean, it muses, all I have to do is mug a couple more French irregular verbs and a few of those weird Biology diagrams and I’m good to go. How hard can labelling a few pictures really be, right??

Well, my dear darling brain, considering how I have the attention span of a potted plant, even “labelling a few pictures” can turn out to be a real nightmare.

If you think about it, bearing in mind that my exams are a mere twenty days away, I should be a lot more panicky. I’ve barely skimmed through a single chapter, forget crammed all of that crazy Congruent gobbledygook. But hey, maybe the best way to prepare is not to prepare at all [or at least that’s what I keep telling myself]…

The Hundred and Thirty Second Classic [In My Opinion] Review


To be honest, when I first saw the front of Adichie’s debut novel, my instinct was to place it back on the bookshelf and walk away. And, believe me when I say this, I KNOW not to judge a book by its cover, but how could I, a mere kid of TWELVE, have been attracted to a jacket that displayed a somewhat blurry female clutching a violet flower?? Sorry, but NO WAY.

That’s where Dad came in. He promptly chose that particular book as his weekend-read and the next thing I know, he placed the book on my bedside table with four simple words taped to it; “Must Read; Brilliant Book.”

I kind of had a minor heart-attack right on the spot, because my FATHER just praised something. My FATHER!!!!!!! The last time he uttered the words “Brilliant” was when Hakan Sukur scored his first FIFA goal within eleven -ELEVEN!!- seconds of the match starting.

The next thing I knew, my arms, as if on autopilot,  stretched out, grabbed the paperback, commanded my butt to seat itself on a chair and my eyes started a long pleasurable journey.

It’s a book with something for everyone; young love for the romantics, an almost-devilish father [who thinks he’s doing the right thing] for the people who generally hate others and, of course, a brilliant story for the general bookworms.

There isn’t a single word in Purple Hibiscus I would edit. There isn’t a sentence I would replace. There isn’t a paragraph that was slightly out of place. Everything fit like jigsaw pieces; without even a slight edge of awkwardness.

I enjoyed the book immensely. The last fifty pages are but a blur because of the pace I was reading them. I wanted to know more, to reach the end and relieve my mind of this constant burning sensation that commanded me to read as quickly as possible and waste no time to figure out how it all ended.

Purple Hibiscus is a gem in itself; a carefully plotted masterpiece that I wish I could relive.

Thank you, Adichie, for penning out a novel that will forever more haunt me.

The Hundred and Thirty First Book Review [In VERSE]


From the first moment on

I was totally gripped

From my hands to my feet

From my knees to my hip

My eyes bulged with fear

My temple-vein throbbed

I felt like I had

Of my life been robbed

For I couldn’t really focus

On anything else all day

Neither could I work

Nor could I play

All I could think of was

“Gotta’ get back to that book,”

As I said before,

I was TOTALLY hooked

The twists and the turns

That snaked through each page

The characters emotions

Their sweat, blood and rage

I FELT their triumphs

I FELT their falls

I FELT like I had

Been through it all

I could barely breathe

[Let alone study math]

My attention was keen

I was oh so rapt

When at last I read

Through the final few words

I couldn’t believe it

The way it HURT

Like a part of me

Was wrenched away

Like I could never be

Again this way

The Hundred and Thirtieth Movie Review


Let me start by saying; Gosh, that movie was HOT!! [The cruel irony of the film industry, eh??]

I couldn’t TEAR my eyes off the TV screen even for a short potty break. [yeah, I just said “potty”] I mean, SERIOUSLY. [OK, I said the “P” word in public. Now could you please get over it??] It was THAT great. [POTTY!!!! POTTY!!!! POTTY!!!!! Is THAT POTTYlicious enough for you?? You poop hating FREAKS!!!!!!]

-Let’s start this over-

Under usual circumstances, I would begin a movie review with maybe a few newspaper ratings and boring stats like the sold-out theatres, broken records, blah, blah, blah. But, let me remind you, there is NOTHING normal about Frozen, the SENSATIONAL animated Disney movie that won TWO Oscars at the 86th academy awards [there I go with the stats again].

From the moment the picture started, I was GLUED. My whole body tensed up, waiting for the next revelation. I had so many questions, and I was blood hungry for the answers.

The clothes were elegant, the story itself was quite interesting, the songs were catchy and fun to sing along to, [not that I have them on Replay or anything. Why would I?? Right??] it was very child-friendly and clean.

It WAS cliche, I’ll admit it. [Princess meets Prince. Princess falls in love with Price. Princess marries Prince. Princess meets Man Who Sells Ice. Man Who Sells Ice falls in love with Princess. Princess finds out that Prince is not in love with her and wants to take over her kingdom. Princess dumps Prince. Princess falls in love with Man Who Sells Ice. The End. -OK, it may not be THAT cliche…-] But it did have tons of original ideas. Like the Snowman, Olaf. [A personal favorite]

Although it was very, very good, I have a few doubts I want to clear with the script writers. I mean,

Why did Elsa have magic powers that she didn’t even want?? Couldn’t she somehow magically donate it to someone who actually cared two hoots whether they could shoot frost out of their hands?? [Like me??]

Why did Anna want Else back so badly?? Even after Elsa practically KILLED her at her ice-fort thingy. Yeah, this is a true demonstration of  a sister’s love and all, but when does this happen in REAL life?? [The place where dancing dollops of snow and rock-trolls don’t exist]

How on EARTH does Kristoff’s [A.K.A Man Who Sells Ice] reindeer live THAT long?? AND be so fit and healthy?????????

I’d love to go on, but Mum’s calling me in for lunch. Boy, am I starving!! And we’re having my favorite today; Food!! I’ll see you later, Reader. Oh, and FOLLOW!!!!!

The Hundred And Twenty-Ninth Book Review

Hey you guys!! It’s Feni the Bloggin’ Dog here and I was wondering whether this month could be Media Review Month?? I mean, who better to educate you on what to read and watch than ME, the most culturally enriched being to ever walk the face of the planet, right?! 

So here goes…


Let me get this straight; I LIKED The Fault in Our Stars. That said, let me also add that, apart from the few, hilarious sentences scattered throughout the duration of the book, I found it to be… well, little more than pleasant.

A friend had told me about the story a few weeks prior to my reading it. Of course, I’d HEARD of it [very few people haven’t] but had never really thought about reading it until I noticed a classmate leafing through it during History one fateful Tuesday.

Two minutes later, I was plonked on my bench, my whole being absorbed in the novel cradled in my hands.

I LOVED the first chapter. 10 out of mind-blowing 10.

The second chapter was good, but not great. 9/10

The third chapter was also good, though nothing special. 8/10

And so it progressed.

I had to actually FORCE myself to plough through the last 50-odd pages of the book. FORCE. And, believe me, that isn’t something you want to do while reading a book that has been chalked down by the media as “damn near genius.”

One thing that REALLY confused me was the way Hazel and Gus conversed. In the beginning, they were all Shakespeare-esque, what with their never-ending sentences and their frequent use of words that crossed the 15-alphabet mark. And as you read on, they suddenly morph into normal teens and utter monosyllables like there’s no tomorrow. What’s up with THAT??

Another thing that bugged me was that, after about a hundred and fifty pages, it became absolutely clear that Augustus wasn’t going to make it to the end. Just the fact that I was able to PREDICT a vital element of the book is pretty sad.

Oh, and the whole An Imperial Affliction thing?? I thought that it was an actual book that I would have to read so as to TRULY understand Gus and Hazel’s relationship, but NOOOO. Turns out, AIA doesn’t even EXIST!!!! Talk about a MAJOR disappointment.

I guess the ‘Okay’ ‘Okay’ ‘Okay’ bits were pretty cool. So was the ‘Isaac egged his ex’s car’ part.

And, OK, there were some parts that had me laughing my head off. And there were others that made me feel pangs of sympathy for Hazel. But nothing more.

I didn’t “weep my eyes off” as the bookstore adverts assured me. Neither did I “chuckle myself hoarse” as book reviewers stated.

I didn’t even feel a strong-enough bond between Hazel and I. You would think that it would be easy enough to form one, seeing how she’s a cancer patient who has been terminal upon diagnosis and all. But apparently not.

In my humble, twelve-year-old opinion, TFIOS was mainly hype. If not for the raving reviews strategically placed at the back of the book, or the love-struck fans who ran around town screaming that this was the one book you must read or even the friend who casually mentioned it to me, I might not even have given it a second thought.

Which doesn’t say a lot, does it??

The Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Bough of Holly


I can’t wait for the family to come downstairs and open up the amazing presents I’ve bought them. I can’t WAIT to see their faces when they see the untidy name tag, stating that the presents are from ME, their DOG. I’m suppressing excited giggles just at the THOUGHT.

Oh, and before I forget, I want to take back what I said before. You know. When I so arrogantly put-forth how I hate Christmas shopping.

Because, I’ve realized, that when you love the person you’re gifting enough, not having any money and being forbidden to enter malls due to the species you are a part of are but small hurdles that can be avoided with graceful ease.

I wish I could elaborate some more, but I can hear the padded footsteps of the kids as they creep down to peek at the presents…