I’m going to turn 21 and become an adult in 2006! (This statement regularly elicits some sort of horrified look on my girlfriend’s face when she’s inadvertently reminded that I’m not yet an adult.)

I would be looking forward to shabu-shabu, or millenium pig heart attack, more strange bridge games (where the only two people who know what’s going on are purposely trying to kill their partners), taiti (when one party seems to be looking for her partner), the animal game (also known as concentration), beer, and other silly things, but I’m going to be locked up (very happily) with my sweetheart. We’re going to be watching DVDs (don’t give me any dirty looks, y/k) and partaking of our favourite pastime - lounging.

Won’t be here to sit by my computer and type in an IT’S 2006!! post so this will have to do. No resolutions - I gave up making those when I finally admitted to myself that I was never going to keep them, and the last one I made is the only one I’ve kept: I’m not going to make any more New Year’s Resolutions. (I just pepper the rest of the year with more resolutions that I still don’t keep.)

It’s been an interesting year, and I’m looking forward to what the next will bring.

On another note, I’m convinced that my girlfriend thinks that chickens are made of gold. I was at her house a couple of days back and we were going to Serangoon Gardens to eat chicken rice, then she took out a S$50 bill, stared at it long and hard, then asked me earnestly, “Eh, I take $50 enough or not ah?” Then she looked around the room, declared that she needed to buy toilet rolls, and headed straight back to her wallet to take more money, just in case. The $50 was not inclusive of the $15-$20 of small change that she’d taken out for taxi fare - which never comes up to more than $10 for a round trip, so I guess toilet paper has gotten a lot more expensive in the recent past as well.

It’s one thing to make sure you have enough money for the day, it’s another to be completely ignorant as to how much things (like chicken rice, which she eats pretty often) cost. In case anyone was wondering, I don’t think we even touched the $50 bill.

I’ve decided that she must have come from a different planet. I’d like to write her silliness off to how we’ve spent the same number of years in Singapore despite the age gap, yet…… I don’t think anyone would really buy that. (I love you dear, you’re just very silly and cute.)

It’s all very amusing when the bane of your existence ups and heads on over to greener pastures - your lovely friend. :) I love you, hon, but I can’t say that I’m very upset at the recent turn of events. Besides, you owe me one. :) On that note, please make the contraband last: I don’t have that many to go before I have to start paying for them again.

See you on Saaaaaaaaturdayyyyyyyyyy! I am indeed looking forward to our lovely little luncheon (hurhur) before you go fly kites and I have to go get checked in. And yes, Saturday’s cigs are on me.

On another note, something the paramour just said has decided to lodge itself inside my head and make me wonder. I still quite think you’re wrong baby, but then again, this is just me doing what I do best - wonder, I wah wah wah wah wonder.

I’m sick. I’m very sick. I’m a sneezing TPM with a very runny nose and a sore throat and a bit of a fever. I’m a hungry, sick TPM because all day long I’ve had nothing but half a bowl of porridge and a very small bowl of very soggy cereal. Discussing where to go for an imaginary supper really didn’t do much either. The only thing I think I can swallow right now would be soupy beehoon or sashimi, but I doubt raw fish is the wisest thing to consume considering my immune system is at a rather low point. (Thanks j for pointing that out. Hurhur.)

And to top all that off, I’m bleeding again. Damn you, stupid uterus. I will remove you one day, then you’ll miss me and you’ll be sorry you threw such tantrums every month. I hate that it’s here now because it’ll prolly still be sort of here on Saturday night when I’ll be at the Fullerton and it’s so unfair because I hate having my period when I’m in a nice hotel and set to be lounging around all day doing nothing (okay, doing one thing, but nevermind that hurhur) and now I’ll be dragging a tampon with me everywhere I go.

I am woman hear me RAWRRRRR.

I sneezed so hard just now that I launched my tissue paper missiles and I was very upset because once they unplugged a whole new onslaught of violent sneezes settled upon me and now I’m all tired out again. I also think that I’ve blown my nose so many times tonight that I must have effectively blown all my nose hair out.

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH PORN COMING INTO MY MAILBOX.

I hate bidding for my modules. I can’t decide what my 5th module should be, hopefully I can take an SS module as my UE since I’ve already done my SS requirement anyway then all will be well (apart from 2 exams on the 27th of April) if anyone reading this knows if I can do the SS mod as my UE (it’s cross-listed as a UE/breadth as well, but the points will be very high so I want to take the SS version with my friend), please let me know.

I need to sleep. I’m so tired. And I feel so sorry for myself right now.

(I know, I know. I’m unrepentantly wallowing in self-pity. So sue me.)

Thanks for the lovely emails and the MSN convos that have beeped my way every since the last couple of very grouchy rants, and thanks, also, for all the concern. As a guide, in order to not incur the wrath of the Tissue Paper Monster (TPM - I have a runny nose and stuffed some tissue paper in my nostrils so it would stop leaking down the side of my mouth which was really annoying me but ended up getting me branded the TPM by my wonderful girlfriend whose house I went to and hand-delivered chicken porridge since the poor bambino is down with an awful sore throat/cold), there are some frequently asked questions/frequently made statements that just shouldn’t be asked/made. (Reason being, the answer to the vast majority of these questions is HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or Do you REALLY think I haven’t tried that?!)

1. Why don’t you tell her to leave you alone?
2. She’s so weird/mad/[insert other derogatory adjective]. What’s wrong with her?
3. What’s her problem?
4. Why is she being so thick-skinned?
5. Wah lao, it’s been damn long already lah, tell her to just get a life and leave you alone.
6. Does she really think that doing any of this will get your attention in a positive way?
7. She’s insane.
8. You mean she still hasn’t given up? Yeesh.

Here are some questions that I understand if you really have to ask, but I’d really rather you didn’t. If thhe Kaypoh Monsters can’t be kept at bay, please limit them to these burning questions. Thank you.

1. What happened?
2. Which psycho are you avoiding now? (Wasn’t aware that I had more than one active psycho on the loose though.)
3. What did she do this time?
4. Are you okay? (Yes, I am.)

And also, thank you for the amusing recounts of your own personal psychos (I think the most amusing one was a friend of mine who gets texted about 4 times a week by some psycho who got hold of her number, without ever getting a reply. It’s been a year, and he’s still going strong.) that did help me feel like I was less alone in this plagued world. If anyone would like to be a hired assassin, I’m now looking for one. Only, I don’t want this bitch just killed, I would like her boobs sliced off and placed on her head while she’s tied to an anthill and covered in honey. Then I would like her toenails pulled off, her tongue cut out, and then maybe after an hour you can finally shoot her. You see? I’m not that mean - I wouldn’t leave even her to be eaten to death by ants.

Today, Adrianna Tan said, “food just isn’t really important anymore.” I never thought I’d see the day.

Manoeuvre wins the award for Hardest Word To Guess Its Spelling According To Pronunciation.

Hardest Word To Guess Spelling According To Pronunciation wins the award for Longest, Most Convoluted Award Name.

Sneezing fits make you really tired, but prevent you from sleeping.

Cigarettes cure sniffly noses, and beer cures sore throats. (Or soothes it, at least.)

Stalkers should be bobbitted. Unless they’re girls. Then their boobs should be cut off and balanced on their heads so they look like that dude in Little Nicky who had boobs on his head.

This violent streak in me is beginning to be a bit worrisome, but I think it’s pretty justified, in this case.

I need to sleep.

I really don’t like Kylie Kwong and how she cooks. Especially her gross slimey looking shroom-ragout.

How Parents Started Dating makes for very good middle-of-the-night conversations.

I should join Tru Yoga because I cannot look the weird skinny dude in the eye and tell him that I am truly happy with the way I look and because I can’t walk into shops and try on nice clothes. (Will yoga really shorten my toes and give me smaller feet?)

I’m too lazy to bullet, and I’m going to pretend that I don’t know any HTML and that I don’t know how to code for it.

Goodnight.

Changed my number, due to extenuating circumstances. I’m lazy to send out a billion texts, so those of you who don’t already know the new one, ask and it shall be given. Unless you’re a crazy stalker or something of course, then I hope you accidentally short a circuit out and get electrocuted while trying to email and ask me for it.

You’re such a fucking annoying piece of shit, and you’re causing me an inordinate amount of inconvenience. I hope you know what a pain in the ass you are (only you obviously don’t, seeing as how numbskulled and thickskinned you are), and just fucking get over yourself, you stupid dumbfuck. Here’s a clue: I’m not interested in anything remotely to do with you, you’re not cool, no one wants anything to do with you, and it’s time to just GET OVER IT and LEAVE ME ALONE.

As of RIGHT NOW I am very annoyed. Boxing Day has brought me many unwelcome epiphanies, one of which is really, really, really pissing the bejeezus outta me. Read the rest of this entry »

That’s right - you killed Mr Gingerbread Man!

There he was - minding his own business.

You sought him out from his party with his friends,

Bashed his head in,

Stuck the axe in his chest,

And hacked his arm off.

Yeah, you did him in real good.


(See them all, and with a marginally different storyline, here.)

Edit: More ideas on things to do with your gingerbread men. (I’d almost forgotten about these!)

Before the clock strikes 12 and this day ends, I just thought I’d wish everyone a very Happy Chrismukkah (what an OC-ed society this has become) and I hope all of you had a lovely day, spent with people you love. My Christmas Eve very nearly turned very sour, but thankfully all was well and I ended up spending a good portion of today in the arms of a girlfriend for whom I am very thankful.

I know I’m grossing all of you out, but baby, you’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten. (A few months early, maybe, but screw the technicalities.) Love you.

PS: Stay tuned to see what I got up to this Christmas, besides lounge around in bed, that is. :)

What a cute bunny. (: