the grim reaper and his tax attorney

(dinner with family friends)

pops: our firstborn has a theory that our boy cat is a reincarnation of -
firstborn daughter: you!
pops: not yet. i'm still alive. a reincarnation of my son.


that turned into a sombre conversation. i looked at boy cat when i got home and scrutinized him for a human soul.

and i thought my theory was that the boy cat and pops were brothers/lovers/really really really good friends in a past life and were reunited in this lifetime.

the devil wore prada, adam and eve wore nada

my stomach's going all wonky today. i call this overeating.

the brown rice and kari that i ate at noon is still stuck at the top of my throat, tempting me to regurgitate it.

i have felt like puking all day. the feeling is similar to that of swallowing a fishtank of water and needing to spew it out of every orifice.

there can only be one explanation for all this: i received a mysterious phone call and now i'm expecting Satan's baby.

tried out Han Woo Ri, a korean restaurant near the gym a.k.a peebee's dungeon. i've never complained about food but korean food never tasted this iffy. the beef ribs were good, sure, but they squeezed lemon juice on my ox tongue. nay, they stuffed the raw ox tongue into lemons and let it marinade for 72 hours then served it to us. and they gave me a bastardized version of pa jeon. gasp! it was like telur dadar. *sob* i love you, Koryo Won! forgive me for straying but it was the first available korean restaurant in the area. Han Woo Ri? more like Han Coo Chie. service was excellent though and the...erm hot tea was nice. and the barley drink at the end was quite delightful. pops promised them we'd come back and inside i'm screaming "noooooo" while falling into an abyss.

i'm going in search of a porcelain bowl to puke into now. the hell-baby in me is acting up.

its easy to cry when you realize everyone around you will reject you or die

i am up at the ungodly hour of 10am. what is happening to the world?

how do you know when you've met your soulmate? when they keep on coming back, thats how. and i've just realized that the blue z button is my soulmate. he returned to me late last night while i was preparing to go to sleep (by preparing, i mean scratching my bum and taking off my bra) and now he is in his rightful place beside me (i sleep with the computer next to me, what you don't?).

i can smell kerepek bawang putih. why is this happening to me? isn't one of the symptoms of your mind taking leave from sanity smelling food that isn't there?

am preparing to convince pops that he should buy tater tot & i blackberries even though we don't deserve it. its gonna be a hard argument.

i'm hungry.

god made me a cannibal to fix problems like you

hello my little titty tots.

just finished work and i am all pooped out. ironic really, since that particular act hasn't occurred in 2 days.

*comes back an hour later*

ok, just finished eating and i am stuffed. its another case of overindulging in the fatty foods but i can't help it! i seem to have developed a monster appetite the last few days and i have no clue what's going on. i only know i have no more money because they've been spent on rotiboy, hot dogs, ma po tofu rice, sardine rolls, murtabak and [insert variations of fattening foods here]. oh, my double chin says hello. its back.

i need to find a local chapter of shopaholics anonymous here. specifically bookaholics and makeupaholics. cause during my lunchtime i'll buy at least 6 books from kinokuniya and in the evenings right before i leave work, i'll buy some sort of bullshit makeup thing. my temporary solution has been to tapau my food and refuse to go out for lunch. i don't think it'll work for long. somebody needs to tie me my credit cards up.

my whole body is in pain. peebee made me do some painful ass side exercises and now i can barely move my body. also since THAT hot stone massage, i've been able to crack my neck on demand like a wrestler and its freaking me out. and i have to go for the fat fondling weekly now cause Big Momma signed a package and basically contracted my fat over to the the fat fondler.

mayday! mayday! oh shit, that little blue condom thing that has been my z key for such a long time now has disappeared!! i don't like touching the z button without the blue thing. it makes me feel like i'm having unprotected robot sex.

i don't like the feeling that is in my nose right now. no, its not my finger up there, i know what you're gonna say. it feels hot. like someone is blowing hawt hawt air up through my nose and hanging it by its neck if noses had necks. or sticking in a big red hot poker in the deep recesses of the caves that are my nostrils, effectively burning off all the little hairs that prevent dust and small objects from getting into my nose and up into my brain. whoops. i breathed in and my night table just tried to climb into my nostril.

i think this is the typing of a mad mad sleepy woman.

may your nose never feel this hot and may all your dreams come true.

everyone's in their own personal coma

hello my little tom-toms, i'm standing here at work and writing this on my green papered legal pad cause i'm bored and i checked out of my mind 30 mins after getting here.

just finished writing my crap ass personal statement and can now return to thinking about my carnal lust for a blackberry and peebee. oh how i wish to kiss you. both of you. with tongue.

my foray into the world of mascara has left me going "whoa-oh-oh this really works!!!" and i even briefly thought about fake eyelashes (cause my real ones seem to be dropping off, must remember not to clip eyelashes in curler and then see how far it would stretch from lid) except i've seen someone with a bad fake lash job and it looked like there was a spider hanging from her lids. in my quest for flawless skin, through frequent trips to the Benefit counter, and now my journey into mascara, the end product has left me being labelled a crackwhore. just kidding. people say i look like a doll and i get comment like "my god, muka you macam baby!" erm...thanks for the comments as it indicates that not only was i a naive little puppet in previous relationships, i also look like one. see how i can connect two unrelated things together and make an irrational conclusion?

my whole body still aches. i blame it on the gym and that hot stone massage i had on wednesday. the woman fondled my fat and now it hurts. fat fondler. why does it always hurt after a massage? and why does the skin around my cuticles get rough and all peel-y after a manicure so much so that i leave a hole in my face when i excavate my nose scratch my erm...cheek? its a scam i tells ya! its a scam!

in klcc news, the psycho ass isetan sale has commenced. so if you want to be hermetically sealed in 3 stories of pure body odour, ride on ride on. they are fo shiz locking people up in there, you can only get in on the one floor but for those who managed to escape SmellyTown, they did so with truckfuls of plastic bags strapped to their backs.

in kunyah-kunyah (kinokuniya) news, i came across what i thought was an interesting book, "How To Tell A Virgin From The Crowd". only the pages were BLANK. who the hell is gonna spend 20 bucks on a joke book like that?? and hello, wastage, trees, environment, recycle, arse.

its second day of the Dumb Bet Diet and so far it hasn't been that bad mostly because i've been thinking about how bored i am in addition to incessantly opening doors to people who don't think twice about assaulting your olfactory senses. here's my special PSA: wear deodorant or try not to walk past anyone.

just for the record, the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit.

hello my little bubblebums.

lost a bet on that dumb man u & chelsea game and now i can't eat rice or pasta for the next 3 days. except i had a reprieve for dinner when p.b. generously allowed me to eat nasi padang. yam yam, you kari ayam thing.

had a dream last night where i met karl lagerfeld and he was musing out loud regarding the clutch i was holding, "whyyy is the lambskin gold?" and then i woke up. could've had the answer to life on that one.

goddammit david cook won and my back aches.

there is nothing special in the world. nothing magic. just physics.

hello my little kaka-heads.

Pops didn't bring me back a clip on koala or a roo scrotum purse. how tragic. and i somehow doubt his story of how the joey he bought me hopped out of his man-bag. although he brought us back 10 kgs of apple strudel. which was sweet of him (geddit, geddit? mehehehe...). no? fine, be that way. whore.

time for me to go beddy bye, my little poo brains.

my, this blog is getting full of faeces and prostitutes.

i kiss you goodnight with my potty mouth.

what you don't understand you can make mean anything

hello bobbles, just something quick cause Big Bird's gotta run and jump on her Panda Bear (its an inter-species relationship).

went to watch speed racer and it sucked ass. the dialogue was cheesy and a certain someone actually fell asleep on my shoulder while watching it. the only thing i liked about it was chim chim. and maybe spritle. and the pretty colors. can't remember much cause i was all hooched up. kinda.

also its wesak day over here in the land of roti jala & kari ayam, and so one of my wishes (wishes are granted on this day, are they not? *hopeful look in eyes*) is that Big Momma will learn how to use a computer or to put on a dvd all by herself. cause right now the only thing she knows how to use is an intercom button. *beeeeep* yen, yen come here and turn on [insert 21st century technological device here] for your mummy!

Pops is coming back from the land of sausage rolls and meat pies tonight. i requested a baby kangaroo or a real live koala bear that we can stick on one of our plants. we shall see if he grants me my inconceivable wish. he'll probably come back with one of em clip on koalas. oooooo!! or a kangaroo scrotum purse. i saw that somewhere in a souvenir shop and i still can't stop telling everyone about it.

if you're not drunk and naked by this point, you're not paying attention

i'm sorry but i just couldn't stay away from the sexy beings that are you all.

oooooowwwwwww...this, my little ding dongs, is the cry of someone who loved her super high heels so much she had to wear it again. the unbelievable thing is I DID NOT FALL ON MY ASS WHILE WEARING THEM TONIGHT. surprising, no?

was surprisingly sober tonight considering all the hootch consumed. i attribute it to the lok lok i hoovered up after our naughty escapades. a love affair has blossomed between me and the lok lok stall. ours was a romance that ceased about five years ago. but we shall see whether my stomach can weather this tumultuous affair.

happy happy things tonight

*grins*

*swoons*

*snores*

si se puede

too tired to type. but apparently not too tired to go out and reclaim my social life.

p.s. no one came into the store and laid a brick on the floor for us.

ever read about culling songs?

ermmm....my maid just told me about some red phone number that causes death. as in, if some long ass 14 digit number that's red in color comes up on your phone screen, run motherfucker run!

i had an incredulous look on my face the whole time she was telling me this. like, woman are you crazy? what the hell have you been smoking and can i have some?

apparently its happening in indonesia. and cambodia. and pakistan. and just last week, our very own puchong.

this site says these type of phone calls can cause impotency in men and pregnancy in women. well, that's one excuse i can tell my parents should i ever fall pregnant pre-marriage. "it was pregnancy by phone call, ma! i couldn't help it! on the bright side, not everyone can say they have a grandchild who's half human and half pure evil."

this one's happening in cambodia.

erm yeah...its called hoax text messaging, people. call me (see what i did there) when you actually know someone who's died by phone call.

just for the record, the weather today is partly suspicious with chances of betrayal

ok kids, its that time of the week again when mommy's gonna disappear for a few days and not blog because she's way too tired from standing on her feet for 10 hours a day. maybe. unless something terribly exciting happens at work (like someone comes in, drops their pants and leaves us a surprise on the floor as a protest against ridiculously priced luxury goods)

so while mommy's away, mommy wants you to think about this website: 25 world's weirdest animals

in it, you will learn about the:

1. sun bear - what peebee calls me. initially i thought it was because i eat and then go hibernate in trees but its actually because of the dark black or black-brown fur that covers my body except my chest. thanks, 25 WWA. i've learned so much from you.
2. komondor dog - or what i like to call 'them rasta dogs that got into my weed garden again'
3. angora rabbit - can you please look at a picture of the thing and tell me where the face is? how are you supposed to cuddle up to the thing when you might be nuzzling its butt? i don't like rabbits, you know. they eat their own poo. and they have bloodshot eyes. drunks.
   
4. sloth - they have slow metabolisms. check. sounds like me. and their slow-acting stomachs make it so it takes them a month to digest their food. OH MY GOD, i've found a kindred soul within an animal. cause we all know about my own monthly bowel movements. what, i haven't told you that? you would've found out sooner or later, anyway.
5. white faced saki monkey - exactly how tater tot came out looking like when big momma popped her out. and she still looks this grumpy to this day.
   
6. hagfish - kids, this is what your intestines look like. *projectile vomits*
7. star-nosed mole - i'm a firm believer that your insides shouldn't be on the outside.
8. axolotls or wooper roopers - an animal actually looks like this? it looks like a freaking stuffed toy! its as believable as that CJ7 furry yellow thing people are hanging from their rearview mirrors. idiots.
   
9. aye-aye - when i first saw this picture, i thought "who would be silly enough to post up a picture of zharf bag under 25 world's weirdest animals?" silly me, i didn't see the the aye aye was held in the palm of one hand and everyone knows zharf bag that great behemoth can't fit into an airline seat much less the palm of one's hand. (yes, zharif i'm still angry at you, a fact you have seemed to ignore)
   
10. tarsier - like, hello, i think somebody needs to go to rehab for LSD abuse.
11. sucker footed bat - as if bats weren't cool enough already what with being vampires and everything, now i find out they've got ninja skills too??
12. blobfish - the macaroni to my cheese, the blobfish to my sloth. another kindred soul. this guy's so lazy, he only eats what floats by in front of him. high five, brotha.
    

most of the laugh tracks on television were recorded in the early 1950s. these days, most of the people you hear laughing are dead

i call this...i'm outside and i'm wearing sunblock.

today has been a good day my little ding dongs. did all the uni crap and am glad to say i haven't completely ruined my entire future.

although, 7 pm at a golf course clubhouse was not a fun time for me tonight. while attempting to locate pops among the throng of mustached men smoking cigars, i got leered at by dirty old golfers who probably already made me their dirty mistress in their dirty old minds. yuck. have some decency, grandpas.

then we sacrificed an entire duck during dinner to the God of Financial Decisions & Handbags, Big Momma. just kidding. big momma craved peking duck and so we skinned that roasted mallard and had it served with pancake. i cannot emphasize how much i HATE cucumbers and its a bitch to stick your finger into the pancake and retrieve that hoisin-sauced crime against nature. really, no vegetable should be that watery. except tomatoes. which should only be served with buffalo mozarella. and olive oil.

after the sacrificial duck, we sacrificed my ears pulak. the parental officers guilt-tripped me into staying put to listen to live lounge music. that. is. cruel. and detrimental to your child's already fragile mental health. big momma immediately regretted her decision cause them singers, they look like hoes. drag queen hoes. the flat faced ho was making eyes at pops i think. pull down your skirt, lady! no, not all the way to the floor! just enough so we know you're wearing a skirt and not just a top. geez, i look victorian compared to you.

my head feels like its about to explode. its because i haven't had my 4 hour nap today. and because i worry about public safety regarding airborne coochie diseases within sheraton hotel.

goodnight troops.

another thing is no matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close

i call this...getting whacked in the face and screwed over by the man. thus going blind (that's the part where the sun shines in the photo)

(imagine i'm reading this post aloud in a monotonous voice. that is how i feel right now)

aaarrggghhhh. why why why.

(continues in monotonous voice)

found a wonderful image resizer and finally uploading all the great family photos we've taken. i only discover a multiple image resizer now??? <---its hard to say this part in a monotone.

so what's new with you? me, i've gone blind from looking at my computer screen the whole day.

i probably had something more substantial to say but fuck it.

i'm gonna go bury my face in strawberry flavoured pocky now.

*sobs hysterically*

if they're too young to bleed, they're too young for weed. if there's no grass in their field, no weed will they yield.

awwww....mah baby so sweet.

this rootin-tootin Big Bird was hungry and sweetness came over bearing a fish burger.

in an elbow update, i switched to one of them big city plasters, the kind where its transparent and waterproof but it makes the skin on my elbow look like its aged 80 years.

i suppose comfort trumps style.

i'm gonna skedaddle on out of here and hoover up that fish patty.

tanning and steroids are only a problem if you plan to live a long time

got this off hedge's house:

• It was discovered on a space mission that a frog can throw up.The frog throws up its stomach first, so the stomach is dangling out of it’s mouth.Then the frog uses its forearms to dig out all of the stomach’s contents and then swallows the stomach back down again.

ick.

• To “testify” was based on men in the Roman court swearing to a statement made by swearing on their testicles.

yeahhhh

in elbow related news, i HATE fabric plasters. they're ugly, painful and they leave those unsightly and dreaded adhesive marks.

am chatting to tater tot now and she just mentioned indian takeaway. why can't i find butter chicken in kl?

you're that tree falling in the forest that no one gives a rat's ass about

i call this...i look and i see NIPPLES!!

hello my little tom-toms.

i just got back from the skin doctor. i have bad news. and this will affect you all deeply. my boil is gone. that's right. that disgusting boil on my elbow that you all love and cherish has been lanced. jabbed with an anaesthetic and lasered off. cue the smell of burning skin. i now have a gaping hole in my elbow. and now its bleeding out into the teeny weeny itsy bitsy bikini plaster the technician pasted on me.

if you think this is my grossest post ever, type AFUNDI farahwhatswrongwithyou and send to 3246.

she's a bitch you know. all she's got is blondeness. not even tenderness. yeah, she's cleverless.

i call this...being assaulted by a 3 year old wielding deadly balloons on sticks.

spent time with the clan (yeah, we're irish) at the twin babies' birthday party yesterday. consumed nasi tomato, spaghetti bolognese, roti jala, kuey teow goreng, cucur udang, cream puff, poppyseed & orange cupcake and ice kacang. although i had to visit the ABC stall twice because my first round i managed to spill the entire contents of the styrofoam bowl onto my shirt, dying it pink and purple.

i also believe God is telling me something. i go to a party for TWIN 3 year olds, where i'm introduced to TWIN 6 month olds (who by the by are the cutest babies on earth, fully malay but they look korean) and then at night while at the Curve, i bump into a friend who's holding his 10 month old nephew who is a TWIN. that's it. God wants me to have twins. twin twin twin. the word has no meaning anymore.

my long term plan: i am having twins. one boy and one girl and then this factory is closing. if you are a male in your 20s and have twins in your family, please call me. i will accept the fact that you are butt ugly and desperate enough to answer this lonely hearts ad.

in other tragic news, my eyes are swollen. this morning i woke up and couldn't open my right eye. so our mother's day lunch consisted of korean barbecue and me wearing my sunglasses indoors. and then i go home to take my required nap and woke up with a swollen shut left eye. this must be what conjunctivitis feels like. i hope pus isn't involved.

maybe the kids at the party infected me with something. you know how unhygienic spawn can be. digging in dirt and then sticking it in your eye. or mayyyybe my eyes are unhappy with the fact that i made an attempt at putting on mascara and poked myself in the eyeball instead. both eyeballs.

also, i hit my head again. remember the smashing of the skull on the toilet wall? this one was at bavarian bierhouse while retrieving my Bubba Gump Shrimp paperbag (peebee bought me a t-shirt and i got myself a stuffed shrimp keychain yayyy) and smacked it against the sharp ass corner of the wall. i expected blood but miraculously neither blood nor brain matter leaked out. although it hurts to lay my head on a pillow now. i really should get a cat scan with all the head injuries i've sustained.

pa jeon, you rock my pants off.

how freudian. my subconscious is exposed. well, zip it up.

i have lost the will to party.

all i do is sit down staring into space and looking at my watch (which i just found the little ticky tock hands glow in the dark) wondering if its 3am yet and when i can go home. the upside of being out though are my stolen moments with peebee.

i've been consumed by lethargy. maybe its the LP i've actually stuck to on a daily basis instead of skipping days and feeling nauseous, but i'm all fuzzy, speaking incoherently and generally acting erratic.

all i want to do is take my daily four hour naps.

something is definitely changing.

being born makes your parents god. puberty makes you satan.

i call this my scratch and win night table. i don't know how the poor thing got so scarred.


this week i've been:

• giggling over the true story of being stalked by a man in jeans and a white t-shirt holding a dead flower
  
• cursing the fact that i have these two gaping holes in my face called nostrils because some people just don't know how to practice basic hygiene
• using my gift of intuition for evil by making up numbers and giving it to friends who main nombor (she got 200 bucks! i AM psychic! only, the universe is a little dyslexic because the numbers that came out were terbalik)

another weigh-in, another measurement and i've lost another kg as well as inches off my hips, chest, shoulders and waist. most importantly, my calves and thighs are no longer lopsided and are now equal in size. hooray!

reluctantly bought mascara and shall attempt at using it later because i have to wear full makeup to work. not sure if i'm being paranoid but ever since i started using eye makeup (like, a teeny tiny microscopic bit) my eyes have felt all swollen. huh? what? oh, the voice in my head says i'm just being delusional.

gonna get ready for jean claude's bertday bash now.

toodles.

Stink for privacy, the new way to protect personal space. Intimidation by odor.

i call this...jap-crack-a-box. as in "sekejap, relax, crack open a box". what? no one says that? ok "japanese crackers in a box" then.

been listening to the cd at the store on repeat these past couple of days and this is what i came away with:
SoKo-I'll Kill her


gut-wrenching shoots-straight-to-your-heart lyrics, no?

its as if achmed the dead terrorist is singing this song only he's a she and fleshed up.

why can't my air-con, who from this day forth i shall name Ack!, compromise? he either turns himself off or goes sub-zero temperature on me. Ack!, 23 degrees Celcius is supposed to be warmer than what you're doing to me right now.

gonna take a nap while waiting to meet peebee for green tea frappucino kisses.

p.s. sushi king is having a japanese curry promotion. if you like your deep fried chicken to come in regular sized quantities rather than two micro tablets, i suggest eating at sakae sushi.

give me attention. give me adoration. give me a break.

hello my little toast soldiers.

its 8.53 am and this Big Bird's getting ready to go to work.

i'm sleepy as. even though i'm getting my minimum 8 hours of sleep.

and i feel like eating chicken katsu curry. for breakfast.

lord, beer me a caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso.

or beer me that red bull.

is it just me or are the lyrics to timbaland's scream "scream at the top of your nose"?? also "can i have your cookies and some of your pie"? am i thinking about my runny nose and food too much?

hysteria is impossible without an audience. panicking by yourself is the same as laughing alone in an empty room.

i call this...sexy time after work.
if by sexy time, you mean changing into my kaftan baju tidur and curling up in the fetal position clutching my bag of cookies.

this is an update on my keyboard situation. besides the micro-condom that has replaced the 'z' button, there also seem to be a few strands of hair stuck between the keys. i have no idea how they got there. i don't remember falling asleep on the keyboard. or thumping anyone's head with my notebook. wait... is that dried blood? *wipe* *wipe* *wipe*

remember our debate over portabello/portobello? is it really a coincidence that picking up dvds at hartamas, i look up and see "portobello road emporium"? dude...i really am psychic. or my life is just chock full of coincidences.

putting on makeup for work in the morning is turning out not to be such a chore anymore. that's because my face brightening primer smells like strawberry cream. so when i slap that stuff on, i have glorious visions of strawberry cream sponge fingers dancing on my face.

mmm...sponge cake...i've lost the auntie anne's that used to be in klcc. i was craving a cinnamon sugar pretzel and now there's a shitty bagel place there. i swear i saw it the other day...

with all these cravings i've been having, you'd think i was making use of my reproductive system. *nervous laughter*

this message goes out to barf bag. you are an abomination to the term "girl's best asexual eternally single friend". how could you? we taught you better than that, manchild.

unfixable, zharf bag. unfixable (in the words of ali-ali).

Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism

it's amazing how much of a food-slut i am. all i need to do is read about or see food (on tv) and i suddenly have a craving for it. so right now i'm up to:

1. pizza, any pizza
   
2. classic cheesecake. any cheesecake actually. secret recipe.
   
3. chocolate cake with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream. delicious
   
4. seafood paella. portabello market.
   
5. tiramisu. alexis.
6. roasted chicken and mushroom fusilli. coffee bean.
7. honeydew bubble tea
8. caramel macchiato, extra shot of espresso. starbucks.
   
9. mint chocolate chip & chocolate macaroons. laduree.
   
10. dark chocolate
11. churros dipped in chocolate. waiter/bartender dipped in chocolate. crazy homies.
    
12. double chocolate chip & pecan nut cookies. famous amos.
13. nachos. jake's.
14. mac & cheese. kraft in a box.
15. chicken katsu curry. wagamama.
16. duck rice & crispy seaweed. four seasons.
17. ginger cheesecake. wagamama.
18. the other chicken rice thing i usually have at wagamama.
    

can you believe i have to sate these cravings?

also noticed i haven't been able to multi-task. i've lost all ability to listen to music and think about what i want to write at the same time.

reading invisible monsters by chuck palahniuk (5th palahniuk book i've read in a row) and i am feeling this line:
Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known.

Game shows are designed to make us feel better about the random, useless facts that are all we have left of our education

i feel like tender branson towards the end of survivor when he's on the run with fertility hollis and adam branson and he hasn't worked out in days and is getting paler by the minute and needs his shots of roids. and would kill for chap stick.

only i identify with the haven't worked out in days part. instead i've been rolling around in my bed at home, reading and eating and sleeping and generally being a slug. i can feel all the things i've eaten travelling through my body and settling in my tummy, my arms and my chin (my problem areas, you know). i'm getting fatter by the minute, i swear it. although new black weighing scale still says i'm 50 kg. which means that damn thing is broken. darn.

i finally finished the bag of famous amos double chocolate chip cookies with pecan nuts i've been hoarding since wednesday. i got 300g of it after work and been carrying it with me everywhere. seriously, doctor's appointments, to gardens to watch a movie, its been in my bag.

then i grabbed the tub of equally delicious chocolate-chocolate chip cookies big momma made. i'm resting my chin on it. and its not out of deliberation over whether i should consume anymore empty calories. its more like being out of breath from all that chewing that i haven't started munching. i need to go running tomorrow. hah. running. ok i need to go on the cross trainer for 30 mins and then walk on the treadmill at a low speed with a high incline tomorrow.

after my hot stones massage and mani/pedi of course. yayyy family day.

that condom shaped blue rubber thing that has replaced the z button keeps falling off.

give me detached existentialist ennui. *flash*

oh mee rebus, i beg of you, digest quick for i am about to explode.

i can't breathe.


i want a special saturday with peebee and some paulaner.

also i wish a heart (shaped macaroon) for tater tot.

and a brain for barf bag.

and liquid courage (read: beer) for me.

thank you, santa.

the littlest elf has well-armed friends

i have conflicting information. (i can see you saying "finally, conflict! a post with substance!")

hah. got you there.

the conflict refers to kgs and lbs.

old pink weight scale says i'm 53kg (118lb) and new black weight scale says i'm 50 kg (110lb).

i want to believe shiny new weight scale.

both are calibrated. thus, conflict.

unfortunately i think old pinky's right.

oh my god did i just tell you how much i weigh??

in other tragic news, i just peeled off the blue button on the missing z button blue rubber thing under what used to be the z button . i did it without thinking and i deeply regret it.

watched ironman yesterday. i shall name my firstborn yin sen. or yi ben? yin ben? the dude you'll never forget because he has a way with suits and ties in desert hot weather.

i'm still sick and dizzy and i feel like throwing up. its a foodbaby, relax.

update: coffee bean's roasted chicken and mushroom fusilli pasta is addictive. i had it for lunch and i still can't stop thinking about it. i want it for dinner.