went over to baby's in the morning, which was nice. seems like forever i've been away from him. we accomplished absolutely nothing at all, which is the way i like it. :]
anyway anyway.
i don't get why people are so fucking obsessed with mas selamat. i mean for fuck's sake, he supposedly ran away a month and a half ago, and we're still discussing it. people, move on.
overheard this absurd conversation in the train on the way home. it lasted all the fucking way from jurong and was still ongoing when i got off the train at bedok sweet bedok. so here's an extract of the conversation.
pock faced beng: ehh so how sia. i tink he die oredi lor. so long still never catch right.
jay chou wannabe: i tink hor, govermen conspiracy can. they kill him long ago lah.
p.f.b: oh ya hor, maybe. or else maybe he follor the saddam feller hide in the floor.
j.c.w: you siao ah. then eat pi sai, drink yewling survive ah. then his leg how. how he shave.
me: -stares in disbelief and awe- *mutters to no one in particular* what the fuck does shaving have to do with anything exactly.
caucasian girl next to me: -sniggers-
for truly, the human imagination is a wonderful thing. but it's precisely what makes the society i am forced to be sumberged in so goddamn embarrassing. i mean, intellectual exchange of ideas are one thing, but paranoia and coffeeshop-talk is a whole different thing altogether.
so, please save it for the taxi drivers convention and spare us innocent onlookers our ears. and of course, what's left of our nationalistic pride. because you, yes YOU, loud mouthers who lack the sense, are humiliating us and our oh-so-respectable country.
who gives half a fuck about mas selamat anyway. i mean, sure, he could blow us all up with a bomb or something, or unleash whatever evil terrorist forces, but what are the fucking chances. the man can't even shave. gosh.
note: i am aware of the fact that there's no such thing as half a fuck, if you're wondering. it's just a figure of speech okayy. plus, i'm ranting, so none of this is supposed to make much sense anyway.
as if this epoisode alone wasn't enough to make me want to curl up in my bed and curse my life away, some disgusting old man stood in the bus next to my seat and attempted to rub his genitals off my shoulder twice before i stood up and told him to get the fuck off the bus if he couldn't keep his saggy dick to himself or i would see to his well-deserved castration personally. or something along those lines.
like ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THAT'S WHAT THEY HAVE GEYLANG FOR YOU SONVABITCH.
whatever.
next, was almost getting hit by a hideous blue toyota vios. apparently i didn't learn my lesson from the incident with the celica a few months back. i delivered a swift kick to the bumper then immediately started to pray the driver wouldn't get out of the car because i've had enough fun in the last two hours. he didn't and i could hear the hallelujah chorus in the lift on the way up.
got reprimanded for being late, but my mood couldn't possibly get any worse. first i was subject to torture, then sexual harrassment, then for dessert, a near-death experience.
well, a two minute conversation with boy cured all of that, but of course, he knows nothing of this yet. i think it would be funny when he reads this. i wish i were there to see his expression.
boyfr reminds me sometimes, that with all the crap that's going on, it's so seemingly easy to lose yourself in something you enjoy. then you just stop thinking about things that don't really matter.
i guess that's why i'm so addicted to him. he's my novacaine. love you! <3
awww :]
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