omg!!! bengang gle!
Friday and I'm in pants.
Classic "rants in pants" case, part-- VII (whatever this is!). I don't like talking to inventions of God. Let alone whilst enduring a brain malfunction. Or of that sort. But I-- I don't do outward, vulgar shout-out-louds.. I surrender to silence. Mute angst. I passed by a cunt in disguise earlier, after, say.. hearing about myself, allegedly: "..mistakes one too many.." or, "..she didn't do anything.." whilst I declined further urges to stick a burning fag down her throat. Lasses can't see other lasses verging on glorious things. I can't, but again-- mute angst. And amidst the backstage bickering, she smiled. I simpered. I couldn't smile properly because I had a fucking cookie in my mouth, but I simpered. Mute, coy angst. No sharp objects to reach except a cookie. Can a cookie kill? Damn. Accidental tongue-twister. But, I left it at that. Idiots don't deserve my time, nor yours; so don't talk to idiots. On to subtle kicks of euphoria: (i) femme friends, a pact and I; Saturday's breakfast rendezvous is sealed; (ii) excuse me, but I can't fucking wait until traces of sour cream permeate a good le famille luncheon; (iii) I have bills left for the Blues' ticket, and then I will undergo hobo mutation hence please, drop a Hi and leftover one-dollar bills if you see me on the streets.. with my bandage skirt. Don't blame me for wanting to look good. I am powered by hormones (cough, and testosterones). Ah, soccer goods.. Robbie Keane dreams to be a Kop? What! I choked on my pentagon pancake when I read such atrocity. Come on! Slow news week. But I am extra-excited for Manchester City and Tottenham (holy goalpost-- dos Santos, Luka Modric!). And rejuvenated, stylish Blues. Yes. A merry weekend to you!
[MUSIC] Frank Sinatra - I Get A Kick Out Of You
Diandra vows never to procrastinate ever again.
As if.
(1) From left: vintage Topshop high-waisted denim shorts, Zara for Men brown plaid shirt (brother's own), Gap for Boys nautical striped shirt, Topshop printed smock.
Odds and in-betweens.
Amidst the devils' spawns lingering around me-- the dawns of July enclosed more often merry atmospheres to drown in than not. What I have been up to: (i) hitting the fags (oh, let the girl live) with manic lads, bantering about casualties of the naive.. and film reel appreciation plans; (ii) a little persuasion, Sister; offered to e-purchase a Marc by Marc for me-- I fainted, got up, squealed, then browsed for candidates; (iii) le lad bestfriend shall be drugged (and dragged) to come with me for the Blues clash, because he's promised and because torture is deathly appealing; (iv) pleading a sibling to silently bring me to watch Shitdisco's set, chances of happening slim as Snejana Onopka, but justice shall prevail (or so, I suppose); (v) I can't do pancakes. My pancakes resemble a twisted manifestation of recipe books' imagery.. almost mutant, and demented to the high heavens.. but it tastes good beyond the pentagon structure. Heh. I am stoked-- for Saturday's celebrations, for.. the Interact installation (Lord-- reasons for a new frock, really) and a friend surviving boarding school coming to town: Friday morning breakfast, maple syrup love affairs.. everything else delicately relative to guilty pleasures. Luncheon's on Saturday, and it's more likely a question of quesadillas with sour cream or say.. subtly toasted rosti with mushrooms at Marche. Blues news: (i) Deco an official Blue; signed on the e-tube whilst unshaved (rare as a Rembrandt) and predicted to shower stellar assists, partnered with the German; (ii) Blues, ever ambitious, placing a bid for Andrei Arshavin-- but is he Premier League material, that late bloomer cum pork-faced Russian ace? Time will tell. (iii) Didier donned our next season's away kit, so the alleged diving wanker I love is here to stay, whips anyone? Post-Euro is a little bland. And I have aptly develop love for Santi Cazorla, Yuri Zhirkov and Igor Akinfeev.. but mostly, all over again for David Silva (a Gunner by next season, perhaps?). God damn it-- where the fuck is August 16th?
[MUSIC] the Fratellis - Tell Me A Lie
Whoa. Modernization? Astro's Kirana is somewhat, bordering on extra-ordinary. Miranda July's "Me And You And Everyone We Know" airs soon (count me in!), and I once caught a Japanese remake of Donnie Darko. Sidenote: You're not as original as I thought. Shame.
trust me, trust me enough to tell me anything. just please.. dont tell me what i already know.. what i already think about every single second.. what keeps me awake at night.
i know that one too well, so please keep that to yourself..
i am more scared than you will ever know.
i love youu.
A quick recap of Lya’s birthday: A cold night, Amped up sixteen year olds, Bottles of fizz, Soggy pizza, Chocolate and marshmallow combinations, Stacks of whipped cream, Sugar-filled shireks, Dozes on the pointy grass, Planned ambushes, Failed ambushes, Co-ed rugby, Tackles, Water weapons, Wet sticky disordered hair, Threads of strings in colors akin to Crayola, Shots of Coke straight from the bottle, Games of tag around the neatly mowed grass releasing the remnants of our inner young, Masses of laughter, Secrets revealed, Birthday sing-along ritual, Birthday cake smushing tradition, Lots of walking in the dark, Dancing, Prancing, Jumping, Vanilla-scented bubbles, The whole popping procedure, Testosterones, Hormones, Angst, A game of 'Don’t you dare' with a dear male friend, Paint smears EVERYWHERE, Butt, Hair, Boobs, EVERYWHERE, Chaotic, Amusing, Exuberant, Guitar serenades, Yawns, A quick exchange of thankyous and yourwelcomes, Exhausting walk back to everyone's respected cars.
I’ve skipped class for a total of two days.
Day one: Started the morning with breakfast at Taipan. One woozy tech boy and four amazingly hyped girls in their school shirts (who wouldn’t even have talked to each other if not for this project) shared light conversation over black coffee and hotcakes. A pleasant way of relaxing, if I may say so myself. Ironically, this F1 thing is the only thing keeping me mentally stable and relaxed lately. Friends, on the other hand . . . well, that’s a whole other whiny post! Filled up, wiped the stains off our faces (or was it just me?) and headed to Seafield for the manufacturing process. A grueling 7 hour lock-up with two computers but no WIFI! After being denied of food requests (Burger King), out of desperation for entertainment, I resorted to the joys of Paint with tech boy. Masterpieces aplenty, saved in a file quirkily named ‘Bukak lah kalau berani’. Hours later, the whirring of haphazardly placed machines ended and resulted in a wooden 3D version of our virtual car. One part done, 3034789317897 parts to go before the big day.
Day two: Intended 8 a.m appointment with Dr. Rahman postponed at the very last minute. Result: Mama causing pointless chaos with the nurses. Frankly, I was quite discomforted. Not to mention, embarrassed. Gladly went back home and reveled in the comforts of Youtube. Sampai sekarang fuuuh. Something random: I tried eating oatmeal with maple syrup today. Surprisingly, it doesn’t taste as good as it sounds. Case in point->My vomit senses were triggered right after the third spoonful. Even tried eating it with herbal honey. Lagi lah geli. Lepas ni nak try makan dgn chocolate pulak. I’m more apt to do stupid things when I’m lonely. It is directly proportional. Hence, I’m very lonely = I’m very stupid (?)
So.
I was watching a segment on television about jealousy. How love and anger are so closely connected in the brain that if you are rejected by someone that you love, you can still feel remotely sexually attracted but you can also hate them with great passion.
Women, are more prone to get jealous when their lover is falling in love with someone else. Men, on the other hand, are more prone to get jealous, when their lover is having a sexual relationship with someone else. I wonder why that is though. I really do. I bet it's because women want to fall in love and be happy with just being in the presence of their lover. And men, well some men.. just want sex all the time. Maybe that's what's wrong with us. Maybe we need an even dose of both?
(US as in, generally)
x
