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.

Motivasi yang tak ada

I've been in a sort of daze these past few weeks where everything seems stagnant and there's no excitement in anything I do, and there's nothing that can entice me enough to produce some sparks of hope or motivation.

I feel I'm more vulnerable somehow, like an open wound, sensitive to any foreign object. I let things and people get to me more, like how people tell me I'm fat or 'healthy' -which they think is kinder- .

And right now it's raining outside, I'm alone in the apartment, it's dark. Things are not looking up.

Sigh.

Ugh. I hate feeling like this.

Bermisai

I'd like to have a fake-mustache-party



We had a mini-mustache-party ages ago at TAG. And someone who goes by the name of DJ Ribut was jelezzz cause I had one and he didn't. I made my friends wear it too, haha. Except Mike, cause he already has one.

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!

My current addictions

I'm currently binging on:

-Yam ice cream because it reminds me of my childhood.

-Apples cut into slices and eaten with Gouda cheese (I love Gouda), it just pisses me off that cheese is so expensive here. I mean, wtf, we have cows too right?!

-Shisha, Hartamas Square. The ones in Ampang are wayyyy better but it's just too far away :/

-Driving illegally (no, I don't have a license, no, I don't know how to drive manual, and yes, I do my very slow driving -which is between 10 km/h to 70 km/h in places which have few cars and pedestrians, e.g. Bkt Damansara)

-Waking up late. I have to change this though because getting off the bed at 2pm makes me even more tired and I feel like I've wasted the day already.

-Watching The Hills and Animal Planet because they're somewhat similar, dunchatink.

-Strepsils, which help me with my cough.

-Anti histamines which help me with my allergies.

-Dim sum, because I'm a quarter Chinese. Heck even if you're not Chinese you should eat it cause you're totally missing out if you don't.

-Porridge. My favorite one's from Lucky Garden. I need to know more places which sell yummy porridge.

I know I have a lot of food listed here. And I know what you mean when you say I'm 'healthy'.. hell, anyone would know what you mean. Well shut the fuck up and you're an asshole if you think you have the right to tell people they're fat. Do I tell you you're stupid? That no one really likes you? No I don't. Because I don't care about you that much. So GTFO, plzkthx.

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.

F.I.E. coming back with power power (power! power!)

If you had (the old) me on your blogroll, you may have noticed that I wasn't updating anymore. Yes, I pressed the PAUSE button on the crazy written diarrhea that some hate, some love to read.

Well I'm back, and this time I'm staying, spewing more shit than ever like a drunken pirate on a dictionary high.

Will I make more sense this time?

Nah.