Tuesday, February 24, 2009

An Emotionally Frustrating Day
A Bird Theory
Other Useless Stuff

Dunno why I just feel unusually easily frustrated these past few months... well actually not really FEW MONTHS... ... it's about half a year already.

Firstly, WHY MUST THE WHOLE WORLD BE AGAINST ME?!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!

Secondly, DOES HUMANS ACTUALLY HAVE ANY SENSE OF APPRECIATION?!?!?!?!?!?!?! OMGF!!!!!!!!! DO THEY?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!

Thirdly, DON'T I DESERVE A NORMAL LIFE?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!??

Lastly, WHY DO BIRDS ALWAYS LIKE TO LAND ON THE AIRCON COMPRESSOR OUTSIDE MY BF'S ROOM?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!! The frequency of this happening is freakishly high... ... everyday, birds surely will rest on the compressor without fail... either to poop / pee / hop around & make irritating tick-tac-tick-tac sounds with their claws / chirp out of happiness & probably also knowing that they are testing the patience of the humans living within the room / caw caw loudly out of horny'ness / add any other birdly behaviour / etc etc. But today, I finally came up with a theory. Birds probably fly at the height of the 8th storey of buildings... it is probably a comfortable height for them to fly at... ... becuz hardly any birds rest on the aircon compressor at my house which is the 12th storey. I mean, HAVE lah... birds do rest on the compressor at my house, but NOT SO OFTEN. And when I was living in my previous home which is the 26th storey, I think only 2 birds came to visit per year. So I think my theory is logical... ... birds usually fly at the height of the 8th storey. Only the more risk-taking, dare-devil birds fly higher. Now I'm wondering if there will be any birds at my new house (The Pinnacle) which is the 35th storey... ... *ponders for a while*...

Anywayz... ... it's strange how I suddenly dun feel so frustrated anymore after blogging about the bird theory.

I know it's pointless blogging about my problems at work becuz it's always a repeated issue. And also, new problems in my own personal life is surfacing. But it's also pointless to talk to my bf about certain issues becuz he won't listen. I mean... He HEARS, but doesn't LISTEN... ... if you know what i mean. Or maybe he does listen, but he is a no-action guy. I guess he's just not into certain things and has in fact, cultivated Selective Hearing. Sigh. Men. If it wasn't becuz he was always making me laugh & making such an effort to be a good person, I would have gone out with Takeshi Kaneshiro already (btw, i dreamt that TK was infactuated with me even though i had a bf & he actually force-kissed me, but i pushed him away due to the faithfulness to my bf. But still, wat the fark lor... it's just a dream & i was still in the right mind to be so damn bloody moral... i am damn good). In the meantime... *kiss kiss*... ... miss my bf. Asshole, always going overseas for his work. HE BETTER BE GOOD OR I WILL CHOP OFF HIS DICK AND FEED IT TO THE AIRCON COMPRESSOR BIRDS!!!!!!!!!

And I love soft limp fries.
I know this is out of the topic & so weird to say this after talking about chopping of dicks, but I just felt like blogging about this becuz I'm eating MacDonalds now.
I love eating soft limp salty MacDonald fries. I dun mean the 'lao hong' (stale fries) kind... but you know, I mean, even when the fries are hot & fresh, there will be these crispy hard fries... and then there are those hot soft limp fries. Soft limpy fries are delicious.

I think I have a pimple on my butt. *feels around the area*... Oh... it's just a big grain of salt from the MacDonald fries...
... wait a min... how did it get on my butt?!?!... ... oh well.... *licks the salt off my finger*... oh shit, it's a blackhead... *swallows it anyway*...

My left leg cramped up while I was driving today. Ohhh what do you care... nobody will care about me... nobody will bother if my leg cramps up & i lose control of the car and crash into the road divider like that Mazda car I saw today outside Alexandra Hospital... ... yeah... .. how convenient to get into a road accident just outside a hospital... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... oh my god, i'm EVIL! stop it Jeanie... ... it's already a sad thing for ppl to get hurt in an accident... ... ... ... ... just rmbr to wear pretty underwear... at least the paramedics won't laugh at you & they can concentrate better on tending to your injuries...

I'm so full of shit today.

I guess this is wat frustrations do to me. It makes me start to talk nonsense... ... .. well, not entirely nonsense becuz the bird theory does make sense. Or maybe... ... frustrations bring out some sort of sudden burst of enlightenment into my head...

Although I still do feel like tearing out my hair in bunches... .. but I shall refrain... ... becuz most importantly, I dun look good when I'm bald. And also, pulling hair out in bunches will hurt my scalp really badly... . it will make me feel like I'm starring in Saw 7... or Hostel 4.

Saw 7
Jigsaw says, "I want to play a game. Listen very carefully to the rules of this game becuz your life depends on it. You have let frustrations take over your life. In this game, you will pull out your own hair in bunches and bleed into the measuring cup in front of you. Once the cup is filled to the brim, the door will open & you will be free. If you fail, the device that is tied around your neck will cut into your flesh and skin your scalp alive."

Hostel 4
Weird guy with pink-dyed chest hair and wearing A-cup bikini GLEEFULLY steps into the smelly cell where I am tied to a rusty chair covered with dried blood - "dum da dum da dum... my sickest fantasy... ... shd i go with the Burn-Her-Pubic-Hair-with-Blow-Torch-and-Fry-Her-Pussy torture method... or the Pull-Her-Hair-Out-In-Bunches method??... decisions decisions... ..."


Weird guy scratches his droopy balls, "OK. Pull hair out in bunches."

Me pleading irritatingly like all movie-torture-victims, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! PLEASE DUN HURT ME!!!!! PLEASE!!! DUN HURT ME!!!!! I KNOW YOU'RE A GOOD PERSON!!!! (yeah right, you FREAK... you're nothing but a freak with saggy balls!) JUST LET ME GO...!!!! I PROMISE NOT TO GO TO THE POLICE!!!! (of course i will... you'll be an idiot if you believe me) I PROMISE NOT TO TELL ANYONE!!!! (ha! the second i get out this place, i'm going to scream crazily at the top of my lungs & 'bao tou' (expose) all of you freaks) I WON'T!!!! I PROMISE!!!! JUST LET ME GO PLEASE!!!! (i know you won't but i just have to beg for the sake of begging) OR FUCK IT... ... IF YOU MUST, JUST FRY MY PUSSY!!! BURN MY 'CHEEBY MAO' (PUSSY HAIR) JUST DO IT!!!! I HATE PUBIC HAIR ANYWAY!!!! PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! I NEED HAIR ON MY HEAD!!!! I DUN WAN TO LOOK LIKE GI JANE!!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE A MAN!!! PLEASEEEEEEEEE!!! FUCK THE PUBES!!! JUST BURN IT!!!! BURRRNNN ITTTTTT!!!!!"

Speaking of Hostel movie, watch this silly spoof of Hostel 3...

Blogging is indeed a palliative relief.

Ahh... I feel much better.

But how come the feeling of silliness is overwhelming me now.

What the hell did I just blog about????