Kerja macam babi

i've been getting enquiries about the shades. they're not mine. my manager's an oakley freak so i just took them off his nose and wore em for the rest of the day.

I've stolen this pic from Ratu Syura which she took of us during Urbanscapes. Yeah I bet a lot of people are tired of reading about this event, but no worries I'm not gonna go all 'ZOMG IT WAS THE SHITZ I HAD SO MUCH FUN IT WAS AWESOME!!!!!!!#$#@' fan-girl like.

It was HOT and SWEATY which is damn obvious in the pic what with my bangs being extra flat, and my hair being extra messy. Yes, I had free passes but it was only cause I had to work from 11:30 to 6:30 NON STOP, and I didn't get to walk around and enjoy the mad party at night since I had to rush back home, shower, do my hair (or at least I tried), and dress up to look some what decent for a wedding at this horrible hotel -at which food was cold, parking was dodgy, and service was appalling-. But hey, at least all guests got a Godiva chocolate to make up for the icky food (not like I'm a big Godiva fan anyway)

I digress. Back to Urbanscapes.

It was annoyingly suffocating being surrounded by hipster zombies. Skinny pants, nerdy glasses, bright clothes, 4 dozen lomo cams hanging on their necks. Yeah, our booth (MOOKS) sold lomos too but only cause we gladly take your money and put it in our cash register cause the zombies think that lomos are like, SO COOL AND I WANNA BE TRENDY AND COOL LIKE THAT.

I was also annoyed by the hundreds upon hundrers of enquiries about the FREE SHOPPING BAGS (which MOOKS sponsored btw). Fuck I don't know why TiC makes it so damn easy for them to get those bags, just take a picture at our MOOKS booth and voila! Here's something for you kiasu people. At least make them like, buy us beer or something. Cause it was damn hot and I only had enough money for 10 cans (half of which I had to split with the Teej).

And there was this girl, who was like, damn blind or damn stupid or BOTH, cause she came up to me and asked, 'Is this the RIMMEL booth?' My mouth was wide opened for a while, just TAKEN ABACK by her DUMBASS-NESS. Our booth had TEES AND CAMERAS AND FLIPFLOPS. NO I DON'T THINK THIS IS THE RIMMEL BOOTH CAUSE LIKE, RIMMEL IS A MAKE UP BRAND YOU BITCH AND I DON'T EVEN SEE ONE LIP GLOSS HERE, DO YOU?

Yes I had to write that in CAPS cause that was what I was thinking. Yes I think in CAPS sometimes when I'm faced with utterly bimbotic and downright brainless people.

Bah I need to rest now. I've been having a cold since last Tuesday, and I can't be afford to be sick since there are tons of events lined up this month (PD Triathlon, TiC flea market, Ruumz finale party, Stuff magazine anniversary, JUICE magazine anniversary, and the Hennesy Artistry at Bukit Kiara) - 4 of which we are sponsoring so it means more work, apart from the other things that I have to do.

TOIL TOIL TOIL.

Kena tangkap

I hate biatches who can't dance, who swing their arms to and fro as if they were monkeys jumping from tree to tree, biatches who insist on waving their lighted cigs on the dance floor, and people who walk across the dance floor because they think it's the damn short cut. THIS IS NOT A PAVEMENT!

And I really don't like your ass abusing my back (or legs if you're too short).

back off, bitch!!

Aku membebel

Last night we were talking about something I have never understood nor approved: Why do bloggers who post shitloads of pictures (of themselves) and who only talk about themselves get a lot of hits? Who on earth reads them? They're all like, 'I woke up today. I ate a sandwich. I changed my clothes. I went to this ubercool party with (whatever nicknames they give to their friends). I was drunk. 100000000 pix with 'femes' people.' THE END. It's all about ME ME ME and how I AM SO DAMN HAPPENING BECAUSE I GO OUT AT NIGHT.

Nyeh. Brain fart!

Anyway I'm working now, my second day in the office. So far colleagues seem to be friendly. It's just a bit chaotic now because the boss is away, I don't have my own desk and pc yet. I'm using my supervisor's iBook which is a bit old and rosak already. Ugh I hate using it cause there's no right click and I can't scroll down on the touchpad. And the 'close' button is on the left side of the window. Plus the spacebar is spoilt. On its right side. Annoying ZoMG x 5000.

If you're at Solaris MontK, please holler and we can go for drinks. And for the hundredth time, NO, I shall not belanja you because hell, I haven't gotten my paycheck yet! even if I get it I'll still be broke cause I'm buying a Netbook.

Belakangku berwarna-warni

It annoys me to no end when people talk about my tattoos as if I weren't standing in front of them. As if I were deaf. As if I didn't understand English or BM.

Eh fuckers, sedar diri sikit boleh tak?

I'd tell you where I got them done, or if I know any good ink artists if you're interested. If not, just lower your voices plzkthx. Oh, and don't ask me why I have what I have inked on my back. I don't feel it's necessary for me to explain my philosophies or thoughts with other people.

Another irritating and stupid question I tend to get is: 'Are they real?' Hey, do I look like I'd spend the whole morning painting myself with marker pens?

Kepada perempuan hodoh

Dear ugly bitch,

I did not appreciate your comment on my friend's Facebook stating that she's fat. Unless you are blind and/or delusional, she happens to be tall and gorgeous. Just because you are a hippo and you have an electrocuted witch's hair, you shouldn't project your own insecurities and hatred of yourself on my beautiful friend.

I also read that you said it's fun being a bitch. Well at least you admitted you are one. A bitch is a female dog by the way. But I really don't know a dog as hideous as you are.

You think you're being funny, or wait, how was it you described your attitude? 'pseudobob-dylan-sleazy weirdness' ? Bittcchhh you are fucked up on so many levels. How dare you put the legendary Bob Dylan in the same sentence as the word 'sleazy' and connect him to your fugly self?

Are you just jealous that my friend's so much better than you? That guys are interested in her? That everyone thinks she's awesome? And that no one likes you?

Well, dear, maybe it's time to look at that mirror and change that fugly bitch and stop talking shit about other people. Because sooner or later someone's going to give you a major bitch slap. And I do mean MAJOR. Just you wait.

Paint

Most of the time I'm sorta lazy to bother with my physical appearance which explains the messy hair, the horribly boring outfit of shorts, t shirts and flip flops, and the plain face. Occasionally, I'll put on some eye make up stuff (eyeshadow, mascara) but that's it. I'm too lazy to put on the foundation, or powder my face to make it look flawless, or some blusher to make my cheeks glow (or whatever). I have no idea how these things work anyway, so the only time I'll probably go all the way is if someone does it for me.

So me being a semi make up virgin, I just can't fathom why on earth do girls (and most of the time they're Chinese btw) like to paint their faces with layers and layers of shit, and even use fake eyelashes when all they do is hang out at the kedai kopi? Seriously, you have that much time to waste just so you can look like a sick, scary, China doll? It's a coffee shop, not The Rocky Horror Picture Show!

Dance dance at Barsonic

Last Friday I decided that I shouldn't get put down by food poisoning -because of which I threw up my stomach contents out of two orifices- and we headed to Barsonic for some indie/electronic music.

Barsonic, in my opinion, is slightly worse than Loft, where the whole TAG thingy used to be. The dance floor is smaller now, and less fun to dance on not only because it's basically a narrow pathway between the bar and the DJ console, it also leads to the loo and the couch area - so you're cramped between people ordering their drinks behind you and people who need to pee rushing to and fro to relieve themselves at the other end of the room.

Apropos people, I have divided the crowd at Barsonic into these groups: (this can be also applied to other clubs)

1) Normal people like you and me, who happen to be in the minority nowadays.

2) Those who were born without any sense of rhythm, or just flat out refuse to acknowledge any, thus called 'Dancing Maniacs'. They basically enjoy jumping around and flailing their arms à la the aerobic dancer. Bare in mind that they're not in the gym. They're in a small, crowded place, where you're supposed to be dancing with other people, not knocking them down with crazy punches.

3) The 'Clothes' people - do I need to say more? These people either pay too much attention to their outfits or none at all. Bright skinnies, metallic leggings, wild print shirt, boyfriend's shirt? They probably look at thecobrasnake every 5 minutes, which the Vogue for the scenesters. Or those guys with winter jackets and hoodies in a hot, sweaty club? Really, I didn't know the theme of the night was Antarctic.

4) Then there are idiots who insist on smoking and dancing wildly at the same time. Look, a cigarette is a frigging weapon. You can BURN someone with that stick. Which was what happened to me on Friday by the way. Some bitch girl punctured my skin because she was drunk and trying to show her pals her groovy (not!) moves, possibly forgetting or not caring about the burning object between her fingers. She apologized, I accepted, just because I wasn't in the mood to scream at her face, but a second later I turned back, and - she was still waving her hands all over the place. Didn't you learn your lesson?!

5) Okay these people just irk me a lot. You're on the dance floor, enjoying the beats, the songs, you just want to dance, but you can't because some idiots keep cutting you off by walking between their two groups of friends to take pictures. Yes, that was what this guy was doing. Snap some pics, stand around, stare, walk for 2 meters, stop, take pictures, stare. Rinse and repeat. Look, it's a dance floor, not a photo booth.

Still, it was a good night. Just 2 jugs of v-redbull to keep me awake, danced a bit, people-watched a lot, and then headed off for some dim sum.

I am so addicted to dim sum.