STARRING:

1) YOURS TRULY



2) gingerbread donut 1 (purple + blue sprinkles) - the dingbat of the two
3) gingerbread donut 2 (green + blue spinkles)

31st November 2004

Me, a diligent girl as always, sat in my room doing past TEE papers- preparation for my upcoming TEE examination. In the midst of all that thinking, my "minuscule" tummy cried out for fuel.

I mean literally.

It went something like "You fucking nincompoop. Satisfy me or I'll torment you with grueling gastric pains- so bad you'll wish you're on permanent anesthetic"

Gawd! It's apparent that "minuscule" tummy has the same sense of humor as yours truly.

So aggressively raunchy yet somewhat acutely satirical.

So, "Nevermind the hunger, that can easily be solved with some DONUTS", I thought.

[*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*]

My ghastly white feet gravitated towards the ground as I sought for food- what felt like an earthquake to the donuts.

At the dank corner of my kitchen lay two rather mouthwatering donuts conversing in "donut" language. Coincidentally, "donut" language is similar to what we call English.


[Writer's note: Gingerbread donut 1 has grammatical issues]





Digressing a bit,

I had to assume gingerbread donut 1's and 2's sex.

Guys do not have their doodles hanging loose. There are connotations to the words "private parts" thus it's a norm of society to have their doodles and balls kept PRIVATE. And THANK GOD.

The lead up to drawing a penis on is FAR FROM PLEASANT. Nauseating and traumatising, in fact.

The process includes:

1) a search for "hard monster dicks" on http://www.yahoo.com/
2) looking through 1 265 284 163 homophile and straight porn sites
3) picking the most monstrous of the monstrous dicks
4) starring at it for a good 82 minutes to have a flamboyant idea of what a dick looks like.


As I was saying

Gingerbread donut 1, being a cretin was oblivious of his ill-fate.

[Writer's note: it's an optical illusion. Stare for a good 30 minutes to reveal the face]




MUAHAHAHA.

You're DAMN RIGHT Gingerbread donut 2. I've got cravings and I want a donut RIGHT NOW.

But since you're the smarter of the lot, I'll spare you...

FOR NOW!

A girl is entitled to multiple cravings, just like she is entitled to multiple orgasms.





Really? oh thank you!! MANY have told me. so CUT THE CRAP and for the love of christ stop stating the obvious.





MUAHAHAHAHA! Yummylicious donuts. I'm on a sugar high! (hops around like orange tigger)

Shut up. You're next in the line.

Beg. Plead. Worship. Come on!


[funeral music playing]




Gingerbread donut 2's constant sobbing got on my nerves. So I slapped the sugar sprinkles out of him the exact way you slap the shit out of someone.





Above content is an imaginative creation and does not represent actuality.

If it ever crossed your mind for even a split second to buy a donut to reenact the above. You're a retard and an utter disgrace to the human race. Go back to primary school or even nursery. Both donuts and stomachs don't talk and never will, so DREAM ON or WAKE UP.

Content and copyright 2004- http://sexy-graffiti.blogspot.com

Note: entry contains sappy sentimental material. If you're not into a hair raising, goosebumpy experience, I'm telling you LEAVE! If not, I'm going to pump you so full of sap you'll have to blow your nose with a pancake.

Ok, enough of the humour.

HAPPY 20th MONTH ANNIVERSARY HUBS.

As the title and my previous words suggest, today marks my 20th month anniversary with a remarkable person, my hubby. Thus this dedication to that special someone who has been my pillar of strength, my source of ecstacy; love; care; hugs and my brightest star in my darkest days for the past 608 days.

Hubs, it's comforting to know that despite my countless idiosyncrasies, temperamental behavior, random moments (you know, I know let's spare others the explicit details) and MOST IMPORTANTLY, the fact that I come as a package of flaws, you weren't afraid to love me. You, in fact, constantly assured me that I'm perfect for you.

Through your kind, thoughtful ways, you've opened my heart to love and the wonders it can do and enabled me to experience something so rare- unconditional love that exists in my body, mind and soul.

I want to say a heart felt thank you for being a truly special person and for making my dreams come true. It's been an absolute delight and a pleasure being part of your life. I appreciate it and I'll love you today as I have from the start and I'll love you forever with all my heart.

As always, I'll like to dedicate the song "Nothing's Gonna Change my Love for you" by Glenn Melderos. *muaks*

Happy 20th month Anniversary Hubs.



Content and Copyright 2004- http://sexy-graffiti.blogspot.com

I've come up with comebacks for various situations.

Situation 1: Big breast chick spewing out critiques smacking with bitchiness due to your lack of assets.

Bitch: My my, the flatness of your chest makes me wonder if you'd been pressed together by two boards as a teenager during adolescence. (assuming that she is capable of stringing a sentence together with a couple of english words)

Flat chested: Prior to my birth, the Lord asked me. "You have two alternatives of Bs, Boobs or Brains. You're only allowed one, which do you choose?" There's no doubt that I've choosen brains.

Flat chested: I'm flat chested = I'm an intellect. I'm going to get far in life, I'm not complaining.

Bitch: SO?

Flat chested ( in blatant tone) : You've got big boobs = you're a bimbo. I hypothesise that in the near future you will bonk syphillis infected ah pehs day in day out till your privates rot beyond repair to earn a meagre sum of $5/hr. You're so worthless. Oh yar, be sure to stock up on viagra. Doodles and balls aren't as effective at that ripe age. I too see you with personalised dildos and various other sex toys because the norms don't fit you anymore.

This is the reason behind bimbo's ginormous (gi-gantic + e-normous) melons. The foetus made a stupid mistake.

Whats the deal with massive melons? Them poor girls suffer inevitable constant back and neck pains having to sustain all that weight and often get permanent bra strap lines and stretch marks which are aesthetically unpleasant. It ain't easy buying clothes too.

Why do men persue overflowing melons? Theoratically, a handful is sufficient (get the subtle hint?) Unless you've got hands like paws of a hippopotamus which is highly absurd so please stop going "Me! Me! Me!" like an assemblage of silly immature school kids or Ian Thorpes hands, there REALLY isn't a need. Besides, firm perfectly rounded melons do not last. When women mature, their melons mature alongside them, in other words 50 years into the future, these perfect ornaments develop into a wrinkly and saggy state like the cheeks of an obese bulldog.

Picture this: Sagging melons to the extent they reach the belly button. Yuck, thats a hideous sight.

Situation 2: Sibling rivalry, callous brother insults you.

The intellectual comeback (not for the weak hearted) -

Brother: You imbecile (stupid person).

You: Well Kor, I'm skeptical of your belief that you're a genius. Simply because stupidity is hereditary. Contemplating I'm stupid, either Mum or Dad or BOTH of them must possess a dominant "stupid gene" which overpowers the recessive "non-stupid gene". If they both have been "blessed" with the "stupid gene" , I'm most certain the offspring which is you is stupid too. If one has the gene, there's a 75% possibility.

Let's consider the odds of striking 4D. We have 20000 hopefuls and perhaps only 1000 whom benefit from this gamble. Thats a meagre 5%.

What makes you so certain that you'll be free of the "STUPID GENE" since the stakes are SO much higher.

Most importantly, end this with the evilest (is there such a word?) laugh you manage to summon. E.g. Muahahahahahaha

Brother: (Lost for words)


OR


The child-like comeback ( recommended usage by those with mentalities of 8 year olds) -

Brother (insultingly): Wah lau eh. Why are you such a stupid fuck.

You: Orh horrrr! I tell mummy and daddy you call them stupid. You don't know it runs in the family meh.

You (sticking tongue out): neh ni neh ni boo boo!

If that aint's damaging enough, swear in front of your parents. When scolded, say "Kor kor say one." and pray that he'll be dumped head first into a bucket of 1000 mole per litre sulfuric acid where he'll disintegrate and cease to exist.

Yours truly is such a genius.

Content by and Copyright 2004 - http://sexy-graffiti.blogspot.com

It's amazing how quick time zaps by like the speed of light.

The youngest of the family, also known as "panda" (it ain't my fault he's got a lame nickname, so happens he fits the profile) is at the ripe age of 4 years 6 months 15 days.

Reminiscing the day I found out mum was expecting. First came the aghast followed by bitterness. At that point in time, if i were a bittergourd I most certainly would have been the most bitter that ever existed in this Universe. In my head it was as though an explosion had occurred. My thoughts were in fragments I could hardly piece together.

1 ) I would no longer be the youngest child.

The one who gets pampered despite being a brat because I'm as precious as a 20 carat diamond and no one in the right state of mind would upset this priceless treasure. I'm brutal- dents in the fridge from my constant abuse; damaged telephone cords from my whining when mum gives me the "circular fish" for lunch, are my works.

I'm sure the natural occuring polymers and amino acids in me are as worthy as that diamond afterall it's all natural (no one messes with nature) unlike the diamond which requires 101 miracles to revive it off it's coal like natural form.

2 ) What would become of my room?

We only had 4 rooms, 1 for my parents; the other for my brother; the other for me and the last for my maid. And those evil beings decided on converting MY, let me repeat, MY ROOM to the baby room.

Grrr! That little "panda" hasn't even had his tiny feet (which turned out to be far from tiny afterall, more like the size of an orangutan's foot) on this planet and yet he has already TAKEN something away from me and successfully stirred jealousy to the extent of me literally turning green as if I had a sudden rush of chlorophyll in me.

What would become of me in the near future?

3 ) I go cuckoo when babies go "WAAAAAHHHHHHHHH". They are utterly inconsiderate, they show nonchalant attitudes towards the fact that their jie jie and kor kor require beauty sleep to maintain their luscious looks. Ok, I hope for the impossible. At least I dare to dream. I'm not in favour of foul smelling nappies and neither do I appreciate mashy baby food on my face.

4 ) Income has to be shared among 5 people rather than the usual 4.

For instance, let's assume an income level of $20000 per month. Let me emphasize, it is an assumption so please do not start plotting on how you're going to rob me off my riches.

The usual: $20000 / 4 = $5000 per head
The new: $20000 / 5 = $4000 per head

As you can see, I am $1000 worse off after the "panda's" birth. Thats 20%! It may seem like a meagre sum, it is not, however, due to the rippling effect it has on the economy and most importantly the social effects it has on my life. I am self-centred.

Let's explore the concept of the multiplier where "one men's spending is another men's income". That $1000 could have been my spending money- clothing, jewellery, lip balms (yum, my favourite), food. I would have provided income for them people which would have increased the level of aggregate expenditure in the economy rather than idling in the bank account of the "panda". Mind you, savings is a leakage to the economy.

All in all, the $1000 would have been better off in my hands. It's beneficial to both the economy and ME.

5 ) There's something so enticing about the opportunity to dispense my boredom on the new member. Yet unconditional pampering has a never failing attraction.

Ok. Ok.

I'm paranoid, narcissistic and full of balderdash.

Amid all the pessimistic thoughts, I came to a realisation that the overflowing of emotions and thoughts are mentally and physically exhausting. They are heavy emotions. My body weighed twice what it had only moments earlier. And though I'm a glutton, I DO NOT want to be obese.

We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course. If "panda" hadn't come into this world, my life would have been a simple stream. What choice did I have? Being the nice girl I am, I decided on embracing the future rather than dreading it.

Update: I love him to bits though he gets on my nerves 24/7 365 days a year. Thats an oxymoron. He's got a contagious laughter, an amazing smile, cheeks like mine (radiant and bloated), a way of getting into my heart when he goes "Sorry jie", he's got a passion for food just like his jie (he can't go wrong if he's like me), etc.

He is certainly the largest 4 year old I've seen. Due to that, ever so often I fail to register that he's still a naive child. That only strikes me when he bawls:

1 ) "Chocolate milk comes from brown cows", when asked "where does milk come from?"

2 ) "Mum! Why is the moon following us?"

3 ) " I know this one. 6 + 6 = 66. Right right right?"

4 ) "Dad you fart like an elephant." Please bear in mind, he said it in a public place swarming with people.

5 ) Me (rubbing mole on "panda's" face): Hah hah! You'll see a mole tomorrow when you wake up.

Panda (frantically rubbing his face on the table then running off to get a tissue): Noooooooooo!! Don't give it to me!

My memory is failing me at the moment

Oh well, it's time I end. My fingers have had enough exercise for the day. I want long slender fingers not muscular ones.



Content by and Copyright 2004 - http://sexy-graffiti.blogspot.com/