Billy Boy on Poison

Bombed off with Alia, Jaryn, Sheena, Shu Lynn ,Danielle and Grace after school to the pan mee place. Vanessa and Kirthanaa came along too. (I find it tres tres coolio that Kirthanaa lives in LONDON now.) The sun was so hot and burningful during the long walk to the store. If it were possible, I'd have burst up into flames halfway from the heat. Or better yet, suffer from a terrible heat stroke and fall into the insanely large drain looking up from under our skirts and shorts.

Anyways, I like pan mee. Dan scolded me (I told her I have never eaten pan mee before) cause she says that not eating pan mee is like not eating bak kut teh.

I'm trying to be optimistic cause Rico Schuijer (a sports psychologist) was saying that there are two types of people. Optimistic and pessimistic. Dan said I was pessimistic and after a while of thinking last night, I do agree with her. The psycho came all the way from Dutchland just to give a talk about mental toughness and a bunch of other rubbish to a thousand 'young ladies & gentlemen'. I like his name. Rrrrrr-Ico Sk-ooi-jer.

To Grace,

Your 'friends' can suck it. If they choose not to talk to you then they are complete buttwipes. Congrats on your jumping.To Sheena,
You're getting two medals! I must admit, I'm beyond jealous but now I get to say "She's my best friend!" when you go up on stage. To everyone else,
Good luck for Cross-Country tomorrow! Go Blue!

Listen to this song. I love it! Billy Boy on Poison - On My Way

Look at the little robot couple

On Wednesdays, I join Kiwanis for coco and the meetings are normally at 1 Lambda. I saw a table that was filthy with some Japanese/Korean boyband's pictures. How can girls like guys that wear makeup and tight clothing? I'd prefer guys with more testosterone in their bodies thank you very much.Oh yes. I bought another book. This time, it's from Carrefour at 8.30 pm. It only cost me RM5.
I wake up, blinking hard against the sky, and the first thing I remember is that my wife cannot forgive me. Never, ever.
Then I remind myself I don't have a wife anymore.
Instead, I'm lying at the bottom of a stairwell, thirty concrete steps below street level in a city far from my home. My home is the past, I must live in the present.

I look for something to wipe my clothes with. There's nothing, really. If I were a cat, I'd lick the crap off with my tongue, and still be a proud, even fussy creature. But I'm not a cat. I'm a human being.

p/s: Leon's face is as smooth as a baby's ass.