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Meet-and-Greet
It so happened that I met this fellow i knew at member's in Zouk on Wednesday. He was friendly, so overfriendly that I was intimidated by his rowdy friends and the sparkling Moet & Chandon. Thing is, I know this fellow's wife and he had the audacity to put his arm around me, in the know that I may rat to his significant other half. Worse still, after 1/2 a bottle of the sparkling potion, he had his hands all over this girl which he had earlier introduced as his ole'-time-friend. He left at 1 with the oldie friend, said he had to be home by 3.30. So what happens in the copulating 2 and 1/2 hours in between, only god knows. Makes me shudder at the thought of marriage and commitment.
Anyhows, the deadlines in school are killing me. How can everything be due in one week and which pair of wonderhands can sketch 30 cylinder drawings in one day? I feel like an overworked machine that needs oiling to lubricate the aching joints, for i can pratically hear the tweaks and creaks as I walk.
On the other hand, classes have been a riot with the never ending peals of laughter from the plastiques (the clique), mostly from jokes targeted at the bah kwa of the class. And my class is like a marketplace for media whores. Bernard took part in the contest organized by mediacorp, the one that belinda lee hosts, some belle and hunk of the school thing. Janna is in NewFace'04, Pops was from MSU'03, Yvonne and Rachel are in some hairshow and yada-yada. Sometimes I understand why the other classes think we're all airheads. (*drumroll, beats chest)
'Dare to' marks the end of SFW'04. Its been quite a frenzy, going to the shows, taking part in the shows, writing reviews (*ahem, not even mine) and so on. Fun was but just an understated element.
Catch me with my M&C tonight. :)
souhaiter que vous etiez ici avec moi
Thrillseekers Galore
I don't understand what's so fun abt going to a particular webpage to read up about someone you dislike/hate/irritated with, only to be driven by jealousy or discontentment with the contents of the blog and so the itchy fingers just have to type something unpleasant to make the blog owner cringe at your comment. So what? You get a cheap thrill out of it? Does it make you feel like you've won a million dollars? Does it make you immensely happy? Is it orgasmic to read about how wonderful (or pathetic) someone's life is? Does it make you feel like your miserable life is better, that it elevates you to a higher status so that you can look down and laugh at others? Maybe you should stalk me, so that you can feel good about yourself when you diss everything I do?
Whatever shoots or shows I do has nothing to do with you, I'm very sure. And if you even bother to buy a magazine to look at how ugly (or fugly as you may like it) I am, then I'm not so sure about how you feel. You mean you need to look at an ugly person to reassure yourself? Tsk tsk. Then perhaps you should leave your contacts so I can send you an invite everytime I do a show to let you have your regular dose of ego? Shoot me, sue me. Or maybe you should put porky pig's photo on your mirror, then perhaps you'll feel like a human being everyday.
I'm not even angry with what you said, everyone has different measures of what beauty is and I believe you think that you are the prettiest angel on earth. I just don't understand why you even bother if you resent me so much.
The bottom line is, if you don't like the person, don't even bother to read up about him/her, even if you're itching to laugh at how miserable her life is. And if you even have to read this understatement to understand this, I'm sorry to say, you're an even sorrier fuckhead with a skull made of coconut husks and skin thicker than whale's flubber. Save the oil blotters for yourself man! Her oily nose will never be a contender to your oil soaked face.
In any sense, I'm flattered that you notice us so much, you even see the shine on our faces. Hmmm, perhaps you know how many laugh lines I have?
Retaliate for all you want, you shall not be entertained.
It just shows how sorry you are to have to fight for yourself and how much time you have to spare on a whimsy puny little girl like me. This entry is self explanatory, so if you have something to say, read it again. i bet you'll find the answer somewhere up there. In case you stilllll don't understand, look to your left, there're my photo laughing back at you.
p.s Name calling is so last century. Grow up kiddo.
:)
if. sarcasm. was. poison, i'd. be. a. snake. that. spurts. venom
