i am a gaytard

i'm a fucking retard. i accidentally deleted my entry bout worshipping angmohs.

don ask me why i was so stoopid. in a monumental act of national mourning i have deleted all my recent photo posts.

i could probably reproduce the entire entry again but is there even a point. it won't be the same anymore.

just shoot me.

ladida

because i am an incorrigible closet exhibitionist. because i am lazy to set up an online photo gallery. because i have nothing to do while waiting for the match later (go czech republic!). because i don have anything witty or funny to say for the next week at least.

so go ahead. view my photos. don be shy.

holidae inn

if u missed the live telecast of the england vs portugal game this morn, go ask a donkey to kick u very hard in the arse. or bang ur head repeatedly against the wall till u knock out. at least in both cases u'll be unconscious or in great pain, thus will not have to face the humiliation of not knowing a single shit when ur frens and family yak bout the greatest game of euro 2004 in the generations to come.

that was no doubt one frickin hell-ride of a game. fastpaced. intense. drama-mama. evrything u wished for in a 90 minute game. heck, it wasn't even onli 90 mins.
it sure didn't feel like it. now we're in trouble. for the next few matches to come we would expect them to be at least as exciting as that one. otherwise damn disappointing man.

i couldn't resist. here's another episode of Mr Duh's conversational misdemeanours.

mr duh: damn! england lost!

me: haha i was damn happy

mr duh: huh why? ohh mango sale issit..hahaz

me: duh. no la portugal won wat

mr duh: huh??!! i thought u watched to stay awake for the sale onli??

me: i can't possibly watch a game like a blank-eyed dummy without observing the play and supporting a team can i

mr duh: ha portugal good meh. i fell asleep at half time

--finito--

i swear this will be the last time i post these inane conversations. cos it'll be the last time i attempt to give mr duh a chance to redeem himself from the depths of conversational stupidity.

it seems like i'm playing piano to a cow. (use ur chinese dic to translate) his replies are completely out of point. i feel like i'm the one not making sense. or maybe he's not responding the way i'd like it to be. damn. i'm manipulative. surprise surprise

jamboreeee

on a freakin humid fog-filled night...(damn u El Nino/Nina/Nini and Sumatra!)

me: i'm gonna watch portugal england match later, have breakfast with my frens and head off to mango sale!

mr duh: ooh. that match's exciting. i'm excited.

me: ha the onli thing that can get me excited now is a naked hunk doing a lapdance for me
(silently thinks she's being absolutely hilarious)

mr duh: ohh kk. so bored. wad u doin now?

....

mr duh: how was church camp?

me: oh it was good. but i was a lil bored.

mr duh: why? no cute guys ah? hahaz

me: i don care bout cute guys when at church camp..

mr duh: oops! sorry! hahaz. so wad u doin now?

....

mr duh: sianz. wad u doin now?

me: breathing. feelin hungry.

mr duh: that's interesting...thought u said u're becomin fat?

me: that has nothing to do with me feelin hungry. i didn't say i was going to ingest anything.

mr duh: hhaaaa Kk..u can join the debate team

??!!

fuck Stupidity.

obladi-oblada

i've been an avid reader of this particular blog by a particularly feisty girl from yjc (think xiaxue II). let's just call her Bitch. she is completely bitchy, which makes her entries all the more interesting. evryone loves to read bitchy stuff innit. we go 'all right!' when someone trashes Sandy Chua and her ugly makeup in Miss Universe, or pokes fun at the hiphop mats and *Chaos minahs. (*if u don knoe wat this means where have u been)

but lately Bitch has linked a blog of her fellow sch mate who happens to be a lesbian. basically her blog is a bloody shrine worshipping her butch girlfren. well, her blog is disgusting. but the way Bitch criticizes homosexuals and calls the sch mate degrading names is even more disgusting.

i quote: being a lesbian is unoriginal. It's a cliche. It's dated. It's so 1990. Alright? Being a freak homosexual to get attention is so not IN!

Bad sex. Don't even ask me why it's disgusting.

Inability to get married in S'pore. Pathetic, very pathetic.

Besides the fact that lesbians are biologically wasteful, a complete waste of good human resources, since they are unable to reproduce successfully to aid the multiplication of the population.

Oh, a snobby little lesbian, huh? Well, frankly all the money in the world can't make you straight, bitch.

I know where you should go though. Holland. Land of sex changes and homo marriages.
That way, that ugly butch of you can get a penis transplant. And you, can get your teeth fixed. Honestly, doesn't your lesbian get tired of your big bucky teeth clamping onto her? Nipples, beware!

blah blah and blah. it goes on for quite a bit.

wat a shame. wat a shame that someone whom i thought was forthright and unique is just another individual who gives her two cents worth without the minimal respect for people different from her.

being cool is not bout demeaning other people to make ourselves puffed up. it is about givin high regard to people who believe in themselves and not give a shit bout wat others think. accepting others for who they are. and this lesbian sch mate is surely someone who is proud of who she is.

i mean, we all have our gripes and petpeeves. not liking homosexuals can be one. but to the extent of makin such nasty remarks to ur own sch mate? i call that highhandedness. and downright petty as well. so not cool.

maybe we're spending way too much time observing other people's faults and making them our problem instead of dealing with our own shortcomings first.

jar jar binks

to date, i've chewed off 69 heads since last week. and still counting.

i wonder why i chose the number 69 as one of exaggeration.

i am talkin in point form. knoe why? cos without strict rationing over my words they would come out all nasty, poisonous and vile. now u wouldn't want that would u.

and yes. my period is coming.

i hate it when i shut up and sulk in a corner. no, i don't mean i hate myself cos i'm not happy and shiny. hell, when was i ever that cheery and all?!

i just hate it when make-peace-not-war folks come up to me and ask in a sickeningly sweet and concerned tone 'hey are u ok??'

then they flash u bashful smiles. and meaningful stares. hoping that i'd give up my evil disposition, embrace the wonderful world, morph into wide-eyed eager beaver Miss Sunshine and give them a warm, relenting, let's-forgive-each-other hug. (cue awwwwww)

-counts to 101-

LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

LET. ME. SMOULDER.

GO. AWAY.

look, it doesn't hurt u a single bit to disregard the dark spot in the corner where i occupy. don't look so upset and disturbed by my grumpiness. don't think evry single unhappy person is a terribly lost soul. we just happen to have fluctuating emotions. it is normal. it has nothing to do with you.

i'm trying not to hurt anybody by keepin silent. cos i knoe u have weak lil hearts. u'd burst into tears, run to mummy and accuse me of being a horrible horrible person the moment i spit a word of rage into ur face. besides, i'm sure u like ur heads very much and wouldn't wanna lose em. innit?


....


okay. but if u're just truly concerned then ignore the vehemence above. just take a cue from my own mother. ignore me. serious.

on a lighter note altogether, david caruso (or better known as horatio) in CSI Miami is deathly attractive. yes, that man may be in dire need of an extreme makeover. but his intelligence and unwavering calm is nuff to bowl me over.

lindsay lohan has fake titties

answer this question and u could send me right outta my depression right now.

ready?



Wat can be more mortifying than displaying ur ass crack unwittingly during altar call in church service, in plain view of the thousand strong crowd behind and the pastors in front??



??


come on...


i'm sure this is NOT the most embarrassing yet...right??


please don do this to me...!!


'errrr....'

-hollowsilenceensues-

WAAAAA I'M GONNAAAA DIEEEEEEEEE!!!!
I'M A SLUTTT LIKEEE PARISSS HILTONNN!!!!!!!

bloody hell. even paris had the luxury of having her ass crack blurred by the nice pple at the tv station. and she's a complete bitch at that.

time to ditch the stoopid hiphuggers. high-waisted, stone-washed jeans circa 1980s here i come.

i hate dating reality shows

i hate it when people proclaim oh-how-i-love-thee cos when i smooch/hug/pet u it feels oh-so-right. it feels so good to be with you. we have so much chemistry. i can feel it. i've never felt this way towards someone else before. i can so see u as my future wife/husband/maid/slave.

(just like those stoopid dating reality shows aka the Bachelor. wat, u mean u finally know who's the right one for u onli after getting intimate with evry other girl? like, this one's gonna be the best fuck? wat are u, a food tester?!)

Love is just a feeling... NOT.

feelings are deceptive. how many times must we make the mistake of trusting our volatile emotions before we realise that Love is far too strong a word to be used on the frivolty we indulge in.

let's go steady. how many kids do u want? let's think of their names! ooh wat kind of wedding would u like? u're my dream come true...!

saying stuff that speaks of emotional strongholds and false promises of a future is naive and irresponsible, especially when we don have marriage or commitment as the end in mind. cos when this relationship doesn't work out, those sweet nothings become totally meaningless. and then it's convenient to recycle them. again and again.

moreover u never know how those careless whispers would come right back at u and bite u on the ass. deranged ex-lovers vandalising ur car. splashing acid on ur face. slicing off ur tongue. eating up ur dog.

u lied to me, u jerk! i'm gonna kill youuuuu!

sure, it definitely felt nice to listen and say those things at that point in time, but eventually disillusionment sets in after a few failures. so we begin to wonder if the idea of the perfect relationship leading to marriage is nothing more than just a fantasy of the foolish.

okay, time for Plan B. let's try test-and-go. aka Dating.

oops it doesn't feel right. i don like this and that bout him/her. sorry, gotta take flight now. next please!

gee, when will we ever be truly satisfied? oh wait, perhaps we'll never be at all!

i wonder if we're really becoming more 'realistic' bout Love and the shortcomings a committed relationship entails. or rather, we're just setting lower standards for ourselves so things wouldn't be so serious and difficult. Life would be much easier and simpler anyways. innit?

maybe it's time to stop saying how much we lurrrvvee that special someone when wat u really lurrrvveee is the attention and care that u're getting. to love is to give. to commit. to compromise. and to sacrifice. for nothing in return.

if we want something, we gotta work for it. i believe it's the same for Love.

it's u that i adore. u'll always be my whore

hello nurse. ;)

right. that was a saucy attempt at being coy. well, me is back from solitude with God and is feelin a-okay. in fact, better. pretty dandy. have i told u already that God is good? yeah.

but havin slept for a grand total of 4 and a half hours for the past 2 nites, i reckon i really need some snoozin-a-moozin so that my grey matter can solidify from its mushy state right now.

yeah i'm countin down sammy boy i'm countin down! to my trip in m'sia this sunday! HAHA.

and oh yes. of course my hair is shorter than yours now. but we possibly have equally jiggly tums, if wat u said bout being flabby and unhealthy rings true.

sometimes love just ain't enough

okay so i'll be gone for another 3 days for another church camp. hopefully when i get back i can spend some time with myself. or maybe i don't know wat i really want at all.

sea of love

here i am, wallowin in my mellowin at 3 am.

michael bolton aka Guy with Pants Still Too Tight, Formerly Known as the Guy with the Worst Hairdo (man, how does he reach those high notes) is crooning-a-moonin.

tell me how am i supposed to live without youuuu.....

if onli the real life is as easily described in words.

i can't sleep. i don't want to sleep. a strange fear has overcome me. it's as if when i fall into slumber i'll descend into a bottomless pit of nothingness.

wakefulness is terrifying too. so i guess i'm really confused.

Love suffers long and is kind
Love does not envy
Love does not parade itself and is not puffed up

Love does not behave rudely, does not seek its own
Love is not provoked and thinks no evil

Love does not rejoice in inequity but rejoices in truth
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things

Love never fails. (1 Cor 13:4-8)

have u loved today?

show me Your love!

i think i geddit. i finally know why after so much gymming and dieting i never really lose weight. why my petite and slim frens remain the same size in spite of their fat-laden diets and sedentary lifestyles.

they talk. A LOT.

yaketty yak yak blah blah blah they can go on and on talking and it's so entertaining to just sit back, watch and listen really. i'm always the bemused listener. an occasional remark. sporadic guffaws. and that's it. but they're like machine guns firing at pearl harbour. the speed of their words. the frequency. the energy in their animated gestures. hoo boy. another one bites the dust man.

did u knoe that u burn the same amount of calories from talking non-stop for 4 hours as when u're jumping up and down continuously for half an hour?

exercise feels like eternity when u're doing it. a minute of treadmill running is pure hell as compared to a minute of gossiping. but having assessed my limitations and strengths, i think i'll opt for the jumping bit.

just thinking bout having to talk for so long makes me tired already.

mars attack!

today i forgot to bring my hp out.

it ain't the first time it happened. figure that perhaps the hp isn't a necessity that i can't live without. sure, there's a sense of mild loss and panic from not knowing if my fren would show up. but it's fun to wait and see how things turn out. who knoes, God might just have prevented me from killing my fren over who gets the last slice of double crust pizza.

i love the feeling of not being available. unreachable. the freedom of not having to answer anybody bout anything i do. i'm just anti-social like that.

heck, i don even bother to check my hp for smses regularly. explains why i onli reply like, 5 hours later.

all of a sudden little reddish ants are crawling out of the crevices of my keyboard. it seems as if the keys are moving. i hope it's not a spawning ground inside. procreation can be a dreadful thing indeed.

till death do us part

i am in love with older men.

i knoe that not all older men are the mature, silent, strong, wordly males that girls love. (think George Clooney, Sean Penn. no, not Michael Douglas. definitely not Jack Neo either). neither are they all loaded with riches to lavish on their young tai-tais.

alas, i didn't say i am in love with the ah peks and phua chu kangs!

there is an irresistable allure of someone who has weathered more storms in Life. someone who has the wisdom and gallantry to guide and correct me in a gentle but firm manner. someone possessing the fortitude to overcome challenges and not having to run to Mummy for help. someone who knows wat women really need and want.

yeah i'm a lazy bitch. i'd like to be taken care of. it's prob easier to find the Someone in age groups 30-40.

i can't imagine havin petty squabbles with a younger guy who is hot-headed as me. or worse *shudder* : mothering him.

holy cow. i hope i don sound like i've a fetish for Dads. i don wanna marry someone like my Dad. hell no!

o johnny depp! (age 41. one hell of an actor. artistic. brooding. experimental. delish. and starring as Willy Wonka in the Charlie and Chocolate Factory remake by Tim Burton)

i'll die in ecstasy in my fantasy.

yum 

chan mali chan

Mindy is my name and Decadence is my game!

have i mentioned that i've been hopelessly deliriously drunk with happy lovin company with my girlies? our insatiable desires for the sinfully oily savoury sweet foods. the endless bitchin bout evrythin else in between over and above. the indulgently retarded jokes bout the most pointless things.

o how i loathe myself when i attempt to be verbosely literary bout the pleasures of Life. i'm high. so very high from being awake for the past 24 hours.

in a nutshell, i hope the bloody hols will never end! haha!

playground love

'this is a gym. not a social club.'

that was the flippant retort by a wizened old hag before making her exit with a flourish. leaving my fren and i seething with rage and disbelief.

at times like these i wish i have the quick wit and indignance to throw the slap back into the perpetrator's face. a ten-second delay sets in, and then it's too late to give her wat she deserved.

funny innit. how a completely bitchy, thoughtless and irresponsible remark from a perfect stranger can get us down for the entire day. i have a full set of gym etiquette that teaches me not to hog the machine as i chat gaily to my gym partner, nor am i one to blab noisily while puncturing girlish inane conversation with hyena laughter. suffice to say, i can proudly declare that i take my workout at the gym very seriously thank you very much.

so i wonder wat disturbed the bitch's very inner being. our youth, that seemed out-of-place in a supposed adult playground aka California Fitness, or the fact that we were actually talking (which may be unacceptable to fitness purists, who believe exercise shld be completely serious and not child's play. grunts allowed onli and no chatter)?

watever it is, it is pure narrow-mindedness. and sheer self-righteousness.

tho i speak of the nasty things i'd like to do to kids and my peers sometimes, i'm not that intolerant towards the frivolty of youths. it is a right entitled to youths alone. besides it doesn't speak anything bout their characters. hence i'm not bout to play the role of a stern tight-assed teacher and go around censuring them.

taming the shrew

it's phenomenal. the amount of work that has to be put in to keep a house spick and span.

but wat's even more astounding is the lack of participation and responsibility we entrust upon ourselves to the job.

it is illogical to generalize too extensively but the truth is, youths these days are less involved in menial household chores than ever. blame it on affluence, why don't u. but the more disturbing issue is the warped attitude of the parents themselves. they consciously exclude their precious kids from havin to do any housework due to many baffling reasons.

one of which would be the supposed more pressing task at hand : school work. because of some weird cosmic revelation, they believe that their wonderfully gifted kids are much too capable and are better suited to more 'important' duties like scoring stellar grades and pavin their brilliant futures by entering prestigious institutions.

wat sheer wisdom displayed. rearing a bunch of smartypants with onli dazzling pieces of papers as their life achievements, but never really knowing how to go bout doing the dishes or even cook instant noodles for themselves.

our priorities are grossly imbalanced. i'd hate to say this but we're prob gettin more useless as human beings by the day.

at a church camp i attended recently, i requested some sec 2 girls to wipe the tables, having even rinsed out the tableclothes for them.

but the snotty little thing turned up her pretty button nose and sniffed 'i'll only wipe the table if the cloth is clean.'

!!!

then they're supposed to clean the toilets as part of area-cleaning duties. once again they displayed the ultimate brattish behaviour by not even wanting to step into the toilet. as if the millions of germs on the wet floor will infest their dainty toes and make their way up to disintegrate their brains.

i'm not modern-day cinderella who has to do most of the chores at home. in fact, i depend on my mom for almost evrything. thru my bleary, sleep-filled eyes i saw my mom clearin up my magazines and other assorted stuff from my bedside table. despite having to work, she never fails to exercise immense initiative and diligence in maintaining the laudable cleanliness of my house.

puts me to shame sometimes, when i shirk my little responsibility of mopping the floor on weekends come evry exam period.

can i even blame her when she retorts 'this is not ur house of course u don't feel the need to keep it clean!'

well, she's right. the way i behave is as if the house doesn't belong to me. if u wanna own something, it is understood that u're to keep it in tiptop condition, innit?

wat i'm tryin to say is, if we don't train ourselves to be more active and useful around the house, then there's really no point in trying to attain supposed 'higher' and more 'noble' goals of becomin a successful banker or earnin nuff dosh to buy that brand new convertible. it doesn't mean anything if u can afford branded gear or gettin perfect scores for PSLE/Os/As when u can't even wash ur own clothes and tidy ur own booktable. hell, or even pouring a glass of water for urself without hollering for Maria to do it for u.

there isn't such a thing as tasks that are too simple. onli pple who are too overrated.

love in an elevator

u knoe the happy shiny blogs that never fails to lift the corners of ur mouth? that's right. the kind that leaves a twisted smile on ur face.

evry single entry is chockful of cutesy anecdotes, manic i-love-all-my-frens-and-dolls messages, giggly expressions of speech, bubbly verbose descriptions of their daily actitivities and the lot. on the borders u'll find adorable cartoon mood counters, colourful emoticons, dancing fairies flying pixies twinkly teddies.

*gasp* wheee! ooh! heehee! ^_^ so cute! wadeva~

u get the drift.

even a supposed sad emo entry will morph into a placid, whiny one. somewhat devoid of angsty rantings and emotionally-charged words. u'd wonder how they're like when antagonized. probably pout and stomp their feet prettily.

i'd like to believe that their lives are as fluffy as candy floss and wholesome as granola bars as they seem on their blogs. if they're really homicidal/self-mutilating/depressive emo-shitheads in reality then the world is truly sick and sad.

as annoying as they are to read (painful reminders of how i love to appear to be a tortured soul in my entries. oh, the shame!), they're a form of guilty pleasure that i relish sometimes. who can resist a sinfully sweet dessert despite knowin that it'll throw u into the depths of no-return from eternal airheadedness and single-adjective take on Life and evrything else?

today is a good day. me is happy. happy is good. i love to eat hello panda. ladida.

o dear. don kill me fer that now will ya.

the melancholy death of the oyster boy

the other night i received an unexpected phonecall from my ex-tutee's mom. she professed having changed at least 2 tuition teachers after i left and the poor boy's results have dropped by 20 marks or so. upon questioning bout the lack in academic interest, the boy simply requested for my return.

this is one of the many things that i'd like to accomplish but just cannot fulfill. a 2 hour tuition session each sunday may not seem like a big deal right now cos i've so much time on my hands. but when sch starts, evrything else will be put on hold in order to brace the onslaught of a taxing sch workload.

am no multi-tasker. priority listing ends up usually as doing wat's most important only. there's hardly any more space for anything else. try as i might, my mind and body can onli be attuned to the most pressing task at hand. any distraction serves onli to crumble my fortitude and reduce me to a emotional wreck who onli wants to go into exile.

mom and dad are comin back in 4 hours time. my last moment of liberation. aha! i will munch on cornflakes directly from the packet and eat peanut butter straight from the jar and u can't apprehend me Mom! u can't catch me!

i am such a rebel. snarl

four tragedies

thoughts for the day.

why does Nature look so tempting and beautiful on tv, but when u're in it u ask God why He created seemingly unnecessary creatures like insects? and the heat and the plants and oh wat an icky feelin.

why do some pple like to congregate at escalator tops, discuss merrily and languidly where they wanna head to, obstructing other harmless beings, whilst maintaining unabashed mega watt smiles at the same time?

why is my left wrist swollen and hurting so?

of late i just feel like runnin away from evrything. don wanna pack my lazy days with activities and pple and talk but can i just escape to somewhere peaceful and quiet and spend time alone with me myself and i.

can i be autistic, for once?

keane

my parents are off to genting and i'm SCARED. flashes of bizarre roadkill are blazin thru my mind now.

freak. i need some supper to get my mind off this.

girl interrupted

i'm the Great Pretender. u can call me insecure deep inside, trying to be strong, running away from my true self. but guess wat, this is the real me. sheltered behind many facades. appearing to be happy and funny and high. u're right if u claim that i'm trying to entertain. of course i am. i find joy in makin pple whom i like, laugh. i relish in that power and ability. u thought i was torn up with pain while telling a funny anecdote? nah.

i'm not unhappy. in fact, i'm deeply joyful. joy is not plastered all over my face. noone can understand the peace that i have cos it's God-given. to pple, i may appear fake or secretly crying for help cos i seem so agitated and bitter. the point is, i appear bitter onli when i choose to rise to the occasion. it's fun to wallow in misery sometimes, innit? it's another form of my entertainment antics.

In my place, in my place
Were lines that I couldn't change

i have many issues unsettled with God. sometimes i knoe that i choose not to face them cos i'm just not ready. God will not let me go without putting up a fight. that's why i knoe that they will be resolved in due time. when my heart is ready. when i'm ready to face them with God. i may have to undertake a more arduous path to get to destination Healing and Recovery. but i have no fear. time is not a factor here. i'm in no rush.

problems remind me that i'm human. i welcome them.

narcissistic as i may appear to be, honestly i have gripped the reality that i cannot depend on myself. the world may think i'm weak for not relying on self-sufficiency. but the strength i receive u cannot see.

i knoe that pple care. i'm grateful for that. but oprah winfrey tactics don't work on evryone. some prefer a silent knowing. a comfortable silence. a resolution cannot be reached thru open-table discussion at times.

do i hate being challenged? perhaps.
am i vulnerable when my pretenses are torn down by force? maybe.

there's no reason to be affected by the naysayers who point out to u bluntly ur many many issues and many many facades and claims that u're an escapist. don be afraid that ur world is being shaken and ur confidence is tumbling over like Humpty Dumpty. u knoe where u belong and where u feel safest in. in ur own skin. u are aware of ur struggles. u knoe more than they do. they may declare that u're blinded to possibly better things. but u knoe better.

so stay firm. don let go of wat u were chasing after in the first place.