happiness

What is it?

I say it's getting a call at 7.45 in the morning from someone who wants to say that they love you.

Tingles and glee, I tell you.

It is NOT however, getting hit in the head by the stick thing that goes up and down at the guardhouse.

Y'know, the thing that lets people go in and out of the apartment compound.

I am assured that this is called a gantry. Whatever it is, that motherfucker will make you bleed like a stuck pig.

Stupid guard.

hehe, i will hold this over her head forever.

Apparently, this girl I know, she does a lot of things

But the one thing that she doesn't do, is she doesn't smelly.

That's right. She doesn't SMELLY.

The telephone conversation went thus:

Fishballs: Go take a shower, my dear. I can smell you from here.

Lady in question (in a bleary, sleepy voice): I object, I don't smelly.

Fishballs: Bwahahaha! OMG.

Lady in question: Buh?

I am so romantic, I tell you.

Haiku to curry.

Red, yellow, tasty
flavours swirl around the mouth
curry makes farts burn

thank you, thank you very much. My pain is my art.

meme-licious, v2.0

Once again, from that lady with the shiny hair:

Seven things I plan to do before I die:
[x] Bungee jump without my clothes on. Seriously. It would be such a rush.
[x] Publish the children's book that I've been working on for the past 2 years. Procrastination is a terrible thing.
[x] Live in Paris.
[x] Live in New York.
[x] Ditto for Tokyo
[x] Buy my Mum a Mercedes
[x] Build my Dad's dream house for him.

Seven things I could do:
[x] Go back to Kuching.
[x] Be less of a bastard. This one is going to be hard.
[x] Eat more vegetables.
[x] Draw more often.
[x] Paint more often.
[x] Clean my room. It's not as bad as it was yesterday. You can see the floor.
[x] Cut my toenails.

Seven celebrity crushes:
[x] Milla Jovovich
[x] Colin Farrell
[x] Rebecca Romijn
[x] Tori Amos
[x] Fiona Apple
[x] PJ Harvey
[x] Michelle Rodriguez

Seven often repeated words:
[x] Damnit
[x] Holy crap!
[x] Jesus H Christ on a (insert random inanimate object. Animals or plants also work)
[x] Oh Crapstain.
[x] LOVEly
[x] REALLy?
[x] Eat crap and die, motherfucker!

Seven physical traits I look for in the opposite sex:
[x] Gaze
[x] Lips
[x] Neck
[x] Shoulders(how she places them)
[x] Hands
[x] Butt. To see if it is sticking out or not (tee hee hee. Wink to the one who gets it)
[x] uh...I dunno...boobs, I guess. No size preference. As long as they are not fake. Fake ones are...creepy.

Seven things I do to make myself happy:
[x] Draw
[x] Read
[x] Sleep. Being sad is exhausting.
[x] Cook. Concentrating on not giving myself diarrhoea is a brilliant distraction.
[x] Watch really bad movies from the seventies and eighties. Especially those badly dubbed Chinese ones
[x] Take a shower.
[x] Uh... I dunno. Kill mosquitoes or some shit.

I tag...uh...some other people. And stuff. If you read this and you haven't done it, consider yourself Tag-gified. By me. Heh, you were tagged by Fishballs. Hehehe. snort.

tolerance

Heh, damned stupid thing to be pushing in Moral Studies class for the kiddies, I think.

I mean, think about it, they're being taught to "tolerate" people who's faiths, race and other bit's and pieces are different from their's. TOLERATE. As if the difference offends and irritates, but you bear it. Like a damned scab on your knee or a really bad t-shirt.

Wouldn't "acceptance" be better?

tee hee hee

I got groceries.

Bwahahaha! The world can no longer hurt me because of my groceries, for they are the groceries of invincibility! (+2 to all resistances).

Damnit, my geek is showing,

I need to get a fucking life.

I love you all, taxi people. Sniff. You make me cry with mirth and glee when you pull stupid shit like try to charge me $15 for a 5 minute taxi ride. Yes, I'm from Sarawak. And yes, I probably DID ride a crocodile to school back home. But then, that doesn't mean that you can charge me $15 for a taxi ride. You cockmongering cuntmothers ("cuntmother" used here courtesy of Miss Lainie).


Actually, I'd pay $15 to ride a crocodile to school. And maybe I could superglue that Mercedes Benz thingy on its nose and shit. Then it would be, like, totally bling and it'll be, like, all cool and shit.

meme-licious

I got this from the Keem. In regards to 5 weird habits that The Fishballs (note the capitals) has:

#1 The Fishballs, he likes to sleep in the nude.
This in itself is not that weird or strange. It's just that I constantly forget to lock the door, resulting in a lot of "Oh, dear Lord! My eyes!" moments. I think I wrote about it somewhere below

#2 The Fishballs has a weakness for Transformers.
There's something appealing about plastic things changing into other plastic things. I might have a deep seated problem here.

#3 He reads while he eats, The Fishballs does.
I can't help it. It's bad but, oh, so good. Someone save me

#4 The Fishballs falls down a lot
It's true. I can't help it. I blame society, rap music, and violent video games. That Mario, always with the killing and the maiming.

#5 The Fishballs snores sometimes
Apparently I do. I have yet to receive proof of this, but then some people would say anything to get me into bed.

And there you have it. Now I will go take a shower because I smell like a dead raccoon. Which does NOT smell like flowers.

PS. I tag anyone who comes across this because I am a lazy bugger. But handsome. Some things just can't be helped, I'm afraid.

CSI

Hey, you know how they say that every gun etches the bullets it fires with a unique pattern?

So that, like, using science or something, the police people can find out which gun a particular bullet is fired from.

Sooo, would we be able to use the same technique to find out which butt a specific turd plopped out from?

knn ccb mch

Another day has passed as the fucking sun takes his fucking time to crawl on his fucking hands and fucking knees across the fucking sky. This idea of the sun taking his time to smell the fucking roses instead of doing his job of making one day come after the other, I am not liking so much.

You see, there are certain people (see: person, as if it isn't obvious enough) that I would like very much to see again. Because well, I miss them. And they know who they are. And by now, probably everyone knows as well. But you see, I am not caring so much about the people that I am not caring about. So all of you can have a spoon, and eat my ass. WITH KETCHUP.

How? How the fuck would you get rid of this stinking frustration that things are the way they are? That with just a weeeee bit of change, it'll be perfect.

Silly little distractions only carry you so far. And last for only so long, before you're left with a small fucking moment of solitude when crapstain! The ache comes rushing back.

I know I'm not sounding very coherent. Much less making much sense. But that is how it is right now.

Doesn't help that I'm living in Cyberjaya. The place where everything goes to fade away and die. Slowly. Because, y'know, there're SO many things to do here.