Month: June 2005

I’ve put my name on the list! I’m so excited. I have no idea what to wear! This feels like going to the prom. Kekekekkee. This event ought to be newspaper worthy. Why not? The rest of Malaysians should be made aware of blogging, cause it’s a proven source of alternative information that our mainstream media just cannot possibly deliver. Heck, it should be a social responsiblity for newspaper publishers to promote blogging.

That I’m not made for using public transportation has been reaffirmed once again. Public transportation sucks. I long for the day teleporting becomes a reality. If that’s possible, I think the next great technology spin-off would be non-surgical fat removal. That’s going to be like way cool.

Sigh. I’m freakin bored!! I need to win the lottery and go to Bali.

++ Update ++

Just found out from my Mom that the ownership transfer of the house we bought has fallen apart. I wrote about it here. Dad’s going to engage another lawyer to sue the two law firms (current owner’s and ours). This sucks big time. I hope they get fucked in the ass those lazy fucks.

We went to have seafood (again!) for an early Father’s Day dinner. Don’t want to fight with the crowd next week. It’s the same place again at Teluk Gong. I think we’re going to go there very often, it’s seriously cheap and good. And I like the atmosphere, cause it’s a huge place and the tables are quite far from each other.

Mom and Dad. So cute!

Why I might die young.

There was a table next to ours. A group of well-dressed, old, fat and ugly chinese men with horribly dressed, pretty, young and slim Chinese girls for partners. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but they talked really loud, as if they feared other people wouldn’t hear them. The men’s conversation was filled with boastfulness, sexist remarks and stupid suggestions. To rub salt to injury, the ladies were looking at their respective partner with their chinky doe eyes and the sweetest smiles. Plain disgusting.

I’m pretty sure they see nothing in those men except for dollar signs. I’ve always believed in one thing, men who buy affection with money have fundamentally weak characters. Men always try to justify it, usually blaming dignified women in the process. Please… if you’re rich, contribute to charity. If you’re hopeless in love, celibate (or contact Palmela Handerson). If you’re going through a mid-life crisis, just buy a fucking car. There’s no need to buy sex from nubile girls and then boast of your prowess to your equally low friends.

Then again, I am not against prostitution because I understand that however I want it to be, there exists the power of supply and demand. Because there are men who are characteristically flawed. Because there are people who like the easy way out. Because there are people who enjoy acquiring intangibles with money. Because there are people who might consider incest. It’s sad really, but c’est la vie.

Yes, it’s over. IT’S FUCKING OVER! I’m esctatic.

We celebrated our new found freedom with a bottle of red wine.

Then it rained like fuck. Traffic also jam like fuck. And I was so damn bloody sleepy.

I think I sort of road bullied some SUV , in my humble Kelisa. Well, he did it 1st! I used my very powerful horn for 5 times today.

Saw people who jumped queue got pulled over by cops. Damn happy. Serve them right.

Reaching home, I passed by a rojak truck. I bought a big bag of rojak with extra crackers. Stuffed like shit now. But I’m so happy.

I want to sleep. Tonight’s plans all cancelled. Sorry, my dearest chicas. You know I really want to make it but I’m just too damn sleepy.

I plan to hit the sack immediately after Riches and Stiches. Kancheong.

Damn. I. want. to. sleep. But I have to fix my body clock. Hang on, Kim!