number eleven

just now, i farted. and then, you know how you know when another fart is coming? yes. i knew. but how wrong i was. i then proceeded to fart again. out came this warm sensation that filled my bum. i immediately ran to the toilet. shit, indeed. all mustardy and soft. filling every corner of my grey sleeping underwear. good contrast.

number ten

just now, while i was chatting with a friend, i saw the meesuah conversation tab blinking. i used my middle finger to tap lightly on the laptop screen, to open the conversation box. i forgot i wasn't at work anymore - where touch screens are used.

#6

Tonight, at approximately 9pm, i was seriously craving some snacky snackeroos so i headed downstairs to meet ma and pa at 'la kim poh', as they so affectionately call it.

As ma and i prowled the neighbourhood, we went through this dodgy carpark. Along one of the empty lots, i, a.k.a. miss sharp eyes, or hawky as some people call me (hehe), spotted a tiny ginger-coloured kitten.

I made a little cat-call at him/her, kind of like the sound you make when someone bumps into you, or as if to imitate a lizard. Anyway, the little feline sort of scampered towards me in the cutest of ways and didn't hesitate to snuggle up to me and my not-so-snuggly feet (I just almost typed feets. Like zomglolzwtfbbq).

I really just wanted to put the skinny fellow of a critter in my pocket and dash home. Unfortunately, ma, Queen of Hatred Club o' Cats, HCC for short, started flipping out.
"Mee-suahhhhhh, meeee-suah! Stop that! Stop calling it! I don't want it to follow us!"
(of course she didn't really call me meesuah, stupid beehoon).
All this pleading and yelling while i incessantly continued to make my cat-calls.

I soon got up from my squat position and trudged to the minimart.
All this while, i secretly hoped that my little pussy(cat) was lurking somewhere.

After a bit, we left the minimart and traced our route back home.
My little kitty kat was nowhere in sight so i did a round of cat-calls yet again.
Low and behold! From about 5 metres away my little orange pal ran in my direction, first looking left and right for cars (seriously), and then right at me. I was so happy but i had to act nonchalant obviously cause Queen of HCC was darting looks of poison at us.

We got durians and not long after i reluctantly left the kitten.

I came upstairs to my room for about 2 hours and then quietly i roped kor kor along in my quest to find my hungry chum.
Armed with a can of pa's tuna(hehe) and a can opener, we set off into the horizon(our lift and then void deck).

I searched high and low for him/her, only to find a bunch of other annoying cats.
Completely SJPed, i decided to give a portion of the food to the cutest cat i found.

I opened the can of tuna, while kor kor watched me.
After pouring some out on a tile, the cat that won the cute competition, gobbled up it's prize.

"Eh give some more la"
"ok"

I proceeded to knock the can on the tile,
but carefully,
so that i could save some for my ginger cat.

But BANG!
All the tuna fell out and that one, stupid lucky cat got to enjoy all of it.

-.-''' diao diao diaoooooo

number nine

just now, more like two days ago - while he was out on a road trip, i did the laundry. i happily dumped everything into the washing machine, poured the detergent, waited about 50 minutes for that to be over, then transferred the whole pile into the dryer. approximately an hour and a half after that, while lying in my bed, watching an episode of the family guy, i heard a semi loud explosion. it sounded like a gunshot. i didn't dare leave my room. but i had to. i ran to the dryer and took out all the clothing. it was dry by then. it didn't quite smell like laundry detergent. instead it reeked of something metallic. i proceeded to fold the clothing anyway. one by one. something made me reach into his chef pants, only to grab and turn inside out his right pocket. little bits of plastic fell out. accompanied with some twisted metal and a familiar circular object. his lighter had exploded in the dryer.

number eight

just now,

beehoon says:
shit!
beehoon says:
i know which sog ur talkg abt. but i cnt sing it in my head!!!
beehoon says:
help!!! lyrics
meesuah says:
uhhhhh
meesuah says:
after the boys of summer are goneee
meesuah says:
i can see it
meesuah says:
i eman
meesuah says:
i can see youuuu
meesuah says:
your breasts keep shining in the sun
meesuah says:
actually i'm not sure if the word is breasts
beehoon says:
ahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahaahhahahahahahaahahahahaa
meesuah says:
hahaha shut up
meesuah says:
oh
meesuah says:
your brown skin shining in the sun
meesuah says:
hahahaha
meesuah says:
hahahaha
meesuah says:
damn it

number seven

just now, i woke up late. work was at 1pm. i got up at 12.30pm. thank God for sixth sense, or i'd have lost my job. something woke me. i don't know what. considering that he and my room-mate are both out of town. in separate cities, of course. anyway. i couldn't understand how i managed to sleep through a variety of 3 annoying phones alarms, each set at volume number 7...till i got on the bus. the alarm sounded. it was loud. and embarrassing. i looked at the time. it was 12.46pm. i had set all 3 alarms one hour too late. got to work at 1pm on the dot.

#5

Remember the man i told you i met on the plane on the way back? The one who sort of harrassed the daylights out of me? The one who i was fairly nice to cause i thought he was an air steward?

Remember how i told you he started off by played an innocent game of tic tac toe with me? And how he spoke about one-tenth english and talked and even sang till i felt like my ears were going bleed out? When eventually i just wanted to jump off the plane with nothing but a little parachute strapped to my back?

Sounded too outrageous and completely mad in the mind to be a real person right?

Well he also gave me his website. Where he eagerly informed me i could listen to and look at snippets of him and his singing friends proudly belting out arabic numbers. More accurately, i do recall him saying ,"Website. Can see. Can hear."

I googled it today, for shits and giggles.
Well, after about 1234567890 hours of laughter and sheer horror,
i present to you:

'Ayman sergeant : from choirs-Hitter rhythm - (device Alerim Books) age : born in Damascus -1976-work : fashion design, sewing concerns : Learning computer language Alanhklise Hobbies : Krhaddam, swimming, and watch the film world Marital status : Married, two children (Mahmoud Youssef)'










First picture, second from right. Second picture, extreme left. You might notice that i blurred out most the site's address, so as to avoid a legal fit from him and his choir.

Turns out he really is sort of 27. And he has 2 kids.

How can someone that insane be in existence?
Seriously KNNCCB. I wish i could hit him with a huge baseball bat.

Bloody sexual predator perv!

Honestly, very funny and quite entertaining to think about, but also extremely revolting.


As an end note, i shall quote his wise words to me,
"Vel-li, vel-li, boo-tiful".

#4

I bought a set of white tall candles from ikea yesterday, to replace my lousy fern ones.
I quite happily burned them, throughout the night.
I woke up to find that they drizzled all over the bloody place, dripped down my table and the wax droplets bounced off the floor and onto everywhere else.
I spent about a grand total of 15-20 mins using a baking scraper tool to get rid of all the wax off of my floor and desk.
Guess i should've listened to mama when she said, "Baby make sure you blow out all your candles before you sleep, you are going to give me a heart attack."
Heeeeheee