Bears wearing Topman at Starbucks'

I've been downloading these "Indie/Rock Playlists" which are compiled and released on torrent sites monthly and they're great for getting new music and bands. The genres covered in these compilations range from indie-folk to indie-dance to indie-punk to indie-indie to indie-polka-porno and while there are the occasional gems in there, most of it is pretty rubbish, to be honest.

If not for these monthly downloads, I wouldn't have found out about The Slack Republic ("Wait For Me" makes my rock-hard heart melt), neither would I have realised that beneath all the glossy, exaggerated hype, The Arctic Monkeys actually makes good music. Also, in Indie/Rock Playlist March, there's proof that music doesn't always sound like how their creators look because Lily Allen's songs aren't filled with drool-muffled grunts while she says "I made urine" over and over again.

However, there is always quite a lot of bleepbloopybleepbleep-sounding bands, also known as nu-rave, dance, electronica or pleasure seizure music. I have never been much for these kind of music because whenever one of these songs play, I will get worried because my motherboard produces the same noises when it's under heavy load.

Also, I suggest that these kind of music be categorised as "bleepbloopybleepbleep" just so I can watch hipster kids go, "No, Janice, Dance Dance Bear! isn't bleepbloopybleepbleep, they're more like indie-dance. Bleepbloopybleepbleep is like, Urgasula and He Who Man's first album. Bleepbloopybleepbleep bands must incorporate repeating lyrics over distorted synthesiser beats. No Jam is also bleepbloopybleepbleep and Chi Mpanzee is also bleepbloopybleepbleep. You know, when I did a Google search on bleepbloopybleepbleep, I received results such as 'myspace.com/bleepbloopybleepbleep', 'The History of bleepbloopybleepbleep', 'If you like these bleepbloopybleepbleep bands, you will also like...' and 'bleepbloopybleepbleep songs you will bleep bleep bleep to'. Yesterday, I read Brenda's LJ and she is apparently really into bleepbloopybleepbleep now but look at her! She's totally NOT bleepbloopybleepbleep."

I kid, of course. Some of my favourite bands sing about being in 50s' motorcycle gangs.

But there is one irritating pattern that I can't ignore, the indie-hipsters fucking love bears. Going through the archive of previous Indie/Rock Playlists, I've found these band names:

Grizzly Bear
Minus The Bear (More forgiveable because they've been around for a bit longer, as far as I know)
Panda Bear
Golden Bear
Bears
Bear on Bear
Seabear

That's A FUCKING FUCKLOAD of motherfucking fuck fuck McFuck bears. I remember a few of their songs sounding quite decent but I deleted them anyway because the band having the word "bear" in its name made me feel as if I'm stuffing one through my ear when I'm listening to their songs. And what the fuck is a Seabear?

When I did some thinking about it, these bands using "bear" in their names in their names is kind of justified because their fanbase is actually quite comparable to the animals.

• Bears have enough killing power, jaw strength and intelligence to eat fresh meat and berries but no, they scavenge. Indie kids are more often than not, rich enough to buy imported clothes from Sweden but no, they visit Salvation Army and thrift shops.
• No matter what species of bears you're talking about, you will know it's a bear because of the snout, paws and body of fur. No matter what race of hipsters you're talking about, you will know it's a hipster because of the big hair, tight jeans and MacBook.
• Do you really think all bears love eating fish that much? No, it's because the cooler bears that live upstream FUCKING love eating fish.

I didn't want to complete the last point because that might hurt a couple of fragile hearts and I admit, I have a fair share of these "hipster music" in my playlist but I will have my arms crossed comfortably over my chest, eyes narrowed into a glint and a sideways smirk on my face when the whole "indie music" fad gets too big and implodes into itself, leaving behind a mess of Threadless tees, western shirts, white earphones and Grande cups.

I have crabs

Long Beach's chili crabs don't disappoint. You can always expect them to do it right because after all, it is their signature dish. And you should always get a lot of fried buns to go along with the incredible gravy and in fact, I will pay just to eat the fried buns by themselves because they are that good.

The best meat is in the pincers but like so many other "best" things, you have to work hard to get it. And I don't think crabs would taste as good if we don't have to use our mental and physical strength as much.

Because of how lightly fragmented the shell was, I had to perform what amounted to a mini engineering project to remove the shell. First, I had to find that one fragment of shell that was the main cause of my Crustacean Frustration (New band name). Then I figured that I should unhinge the claws by opening it really wide before I can loosen the main piece of flesh for easy extraction.

That, by the way, would be the equivalent someone stretching your index finger away from your middle one by yanking on them at the same time. But it doesn't matter because it's the crabs' fault for having delicious flesh.

After slightly separating the meat, I pushed that vital piece of shell inwards and then outwards again to jerk it out from its original position and aha! Everything got simple from then on, just brute force required for removing the rest of the hard shell.

All these for the luxury of being able to eat the pincer flesh like a chicken drumstick, to be able to strip the meat off with a single mouthful. Was it worth it?

YES.

(I should have taken pictures of the meat glistening in the light after being liberated from the hard and limiting shell that's holding it back from its ultimate and noble destiny but please, do you really expect me not to eat it immediately after the work?)