Happy Birthday Jesstaples!
But first.
(a) Singaporeans are fucking asses. You see a fucking queue in front of Pizza hut, what do u bleeding do? Yes, that's right, idiot, you join the bleeding queue. BUT NO, of course NOT. That fucktard refused to, cut our queue and when we voiced it, he gave us a Look. FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE. Thank God it was Jesse's birthday because nobody cuts My queue. Nobody. Especially not when I'm tired, sleepy, hungry, thirsty and fucked up. FUCK YOU.
Moving on.
Mainee, Harlie, Jesse & Me went down to Youthpark to catch Poff's gig. Of course, I forgot to take any photos but Julz/ Faisal's bound to post it up, so I'll swipe em and put it up here, aight? Otherwise, just go to their site, lah ah?
Well. The gig. We were late. No surprises there. I know no shit about local rock bands and stuff, but Poff rocks (pun intended. hah. i've been awake about 20 hours already, so don't mind me). I thought they were good, so that's all that matters. And Harlie was entertained by Sal's "constant kneeling and yelling". Haha. Gonndu girl.
I'm telling you, you need a marketing plan if you wanna make it big. Really. Heh.
Of course, then Jesse had a song specially dedicated to her on her birthday. -nudge nudge- heh.
The ONLY bleeding thing I had a problem with were insipid children running across the area b/w the stage and the people. So what if it's a gig? There should STILL be some show of respect. Even if you're running across, you're fucking distracting. And if they're just running, nvm. But of course, they were carrying a couple of dozen HEART SHAPED PINK HELIUM BALOONS. Sad sad world.
Then again, for the most part, asking Singaporean Gen Y to be polite would be like asking for matriarchy in its entirety wouldn't it? Bloody hell.
OH. OH. OH. I also had a problem with the emcee. The first thing that came out of her mouth was, "Okay boys and girls..." Fuck. Do your bleeding audience analysis lah. So unprofessional. When you emcee, when you give speeches, when you public speak, it's all about the audience. Really. How blatantly stupid can the world get?!
Hah. I'm so anal. So cynical. So bitchy. But fun, lah.
I should be a critic.
Anyway, after that, we had dinner. From Marche's to Pizza Hut to Fish & Co and back to Pizza Hut. Bleeding load of people who got nowhere better to go. We ended up devouring things that were too pathetic for the prices we paid for them.
Jesse. I hope you like the Part I of your gift. Part II is under construction and is currently suspended due to lack of funds and time.
Oh. And everybody reading this, please pray that Jesse's parrot, Hunny Bunny will be fine. I'm not kidding. The bird that Jesse lurves dearly might end up blind, so pray hard.
In other news, the parentals will be flying off to Phuket for their anniversary come Wednesday. Good riddance. Technically, that means that
(a) I can get home whatever bleeding time I want and not have my phone buzzing every 20secs after 11.
(b) I will have to get an alarm clock that cannot be turned off easily. When they went to the pilgrimage, I spoilt like 3 clocks. Don't ask me how. I hate waking up.
(c) I'm stuck with the abnominable sibling for an entire week. Why can't he be at some bleeding NCC camp or something?!
Anybody wants a brother? I'm selling mine.
I have yet to finish radio script. I have yet to finish the bleeding management leadership essay. I have to start on the fucken FMS Connect script. I think I'm dying. I'm not kidding.
(a) I have asthma. 3 out of 10 Singaporean adults die of asthma before they turn 30.
(b) I don't sleep. I take 2-3hr naps. I feel guilty sleeping.
(c) I eat too much chocolate. I've fucking ulcers and my throat hurts like fuck. I think my ulcers might be cancerous. Even my tongue has bumps.
(d) I've Permanent Menstrual Tension. Permanent.My mood fluctuates faster than you can say whatchamacallit.
(e) My vocabulary has deteriorated to thinggie. Just 'thinggie'.
(f) My social life (or as you fucktards call it 'My Love Life') can be made into a trashy novel that people read so they can feel happier about themselves. Only my story will be less cheesy and more intelligent. But the same mama-drama.
(g) I don't eat fish.
(h)There's a perpetual pain on top of my left temple.
I should start writing my will. Any takers for my drawings and paintings? They might turn Picasso after my death.
"My heart goes out to you."
Thanks Harlie. I thought about it and I feel so stupid. Fucking hell. I wanna laugh about it, but I can't and I wanna cry about it but I can't either. These things will ONLY only happen to me. I'll just stay numb. At least I'll try. Thank God you know. I'd just burst if I just had to shut the fuck up about it. Or him, for that matter.
Screw the World.
Period.
(enjoy the phicktoours)
The Birthday Girl, The Love of My Life, The Queen of Cheebye Hill. I love her.
They rock Fuzzy's Socks!
Harlie & Jesse sitting on a tree...
...K-I-S-S-I-N-G !!!
Such loooove!
Double date! They're in black...
And we're in white!
Harlie has a Halo!
Maineeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Now You See It....
Now You Don't!!!!
Jesse devouring pizza. And lovin' it.
Harlie had a tug of war with cheese. She won. She swallowed it all. Hah.
Poor Jesse & Harlie had to share a glass of coke. Their friend who was a camel in her past life drank the rest of the pitcher up.
Chicken drumlets my ass. Considering the size of those things, they're more like sparrow legs.
Jesse looking for more food to eat.
Mainee wondering when Jesse will stop eating.
Mainee contemplating to run away at the sight of the bill. Or rather, she looks like she's abt to cry.
With a friend like that, no wonder Mainee now has that perpetual look on her face.
It's Me & Jesstaploosh!!!
posted by Fuzzy @ 00:37
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