I said I was a Virgin but....

Hi all!

This entry contains explicit picture (only one) and has been interspersed with MSN conversation with a fren.



Only last year, I was admitted to hospital due to………… wait wait….let me pronounce it out carefully….gastro-enteritis-is-is…er.... I was having diarrhea and vomiting almost every 5 minutes at home. I’ve had high fever and taking panadols didn’t help because I would vomit it out. On the 3rd morning, I felt like my house mat that had been washed with bleach and rung dry in the sun….



……pale, wrinkled and hot….



I wanted to lie down somewhere and die…….

……or find a toilet and slump on it forever.




So in the end, I made my mum take me to E&R because its got both a mortuary and restrooms there.



When the tall and hansem doctor said I must be warded immediately; I was ready to kissed him with my shredded lips. Since he also inserted the intra-venous drip into my arm with minimal pain, he quite literally sprouted a golden halo and 2 white wings. I stared deep into his eyes and he stared back a while, i was sure at that moment, we made a connection…..then he gave me a quick smile and then turned the drip force all the way up. When I recounted my ‘miraculous vision and electric attraction’ to my Doc frens later on, they all asked me if I did or said anything funny to my Angel Gabriel.



Apparently it is possible to hallucinate under extreme thirst…. My fission of ‘connection’ had been 'a figment of my imagination' and 'a deep desire to be rescued' (there's a psychiatrist in the bunch...)…

......I remembered i was licking my lips.........ohhh, the shame…..........




I spent the next 7 days in the ward after admittance. I tried to tell the nurses (weakly) that since I needed the toilets very badly to vomit and pass motion, I needed to be placed near them. But nooo….they said I was young and strong and since they placed all their liver-failure and kidney patients around that area, I was shuttled to bed 35.




And yes, the nearest loo is at bed 80-something…



So for the first few nights, there would be this female ghost who would hobble along the corridor of ward 53 every 10 minutes, dragging along the intra-venous drip-stand.



Sometimes, there would be slow measured steps with tiny tinkling sounds of the hard plastic hitting the metal stand and the wheels going ……..eee….....eee………..eee………..eee…….….




Sometimes, the steps would be faster when the ghost became more urgent ….barp barp barp goes the plastic bag of drip against the stand.




…….. ee.ee.ee.eeee.eee.eeee..eee..ee….




Sometimes there will be a crash of sounds when that female ghost almost couldn’t make it to the loo, a crescendo of noises filled with laboured breathing and heavy footsteps…



……..EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! ……







ooooo.......




MSN:

>...everyday stomach growling

>aiyoh

>on day3 hor, i reached the 'floating' stage, felt like i no need food liao....ke yi shang tien tang le….




The worse came when the nurses noticed I was bleeding. I had no more waste but I was passing out blood. There was an emergency call for the consultant who came at once to review me. All through it all, they didn’t have a clue what was happening to me.




And so they ordered a colonoscopy…




You know wat a colonoscopy is? They use this to check for ulcers, colon cancers etc etc. They make you shit out your whole system, then plug this long hose with a camera into your butthole and push and push and PUSH till they reach the end of the colon before they pull it out.




It’s a great system, only if it doesn’t happen to you.......but it sure was damn amusing to the on-lookers...



Nur-si opened this tube of gel at my bed. Since I was almost comatose, I wasn’t about to ask what she’s going to do. But when she started flipping me onto my face and raising my ass up to hers, I felt morally obliged…




Without warning, she plugged that tube of gel into me and started to squeeze all the gel into my butt! KNN, as big as Pantene’s hair conditioner!!!





look at the size of those things!!!





Like, OOOWWWWW!!!!! I immediately wanted to ‘clench’, but she barked out an order.





‘Relax! Dun squeeze! Keep it all in for 2 minutes!’




2 minutes?!!!!



I started moaning. 'Nur-si, I could feel the gel all the way up to my throat….'




Then with a flip, she managed to lay me onto my back again and quickly spread a sheet below me.



‘ok, you can let go now.’



And I let loose….



It might have been funnier to say that I overflowed the sheet, but I was a disappointment to her really. She only managed to squeeze in half a tube.




I wanted to comment that the bloody spill looked like a pregnancy gone wrong, but was too tired to crack that joke. Anyway, the nurse herself was fairly pregnant herself and I value my life.



I thought the trial was already over and started to relax again. Right….I forgot to mention that I didn’t know I was going for colonoscopy because they only told my parents. But since my parents are not science ppl, they didn’t know the implications and are not about to ask any important questions, only quite stupid questions like,



‘will she be ok, sir?’ and


‘how long will it take, sir?’ and


‘will you be handling this personally?’ and the best one,


‘how expensive is that colono-no-er-no-scopy?’


......... which means the consultant essentially did not have to touch the topic of the word ‘colon’ in colonoscopy at ALL.



Whereas if he’d told me, I would be asking lots of pertinent and extremely important questions like:


‘Doc, issit gonna hurt, doc?


‘Doc, you sure it’s not gonna hurt, Doc?’


‘If it does hurt like blazers, Doc, can I sue you, Doc?’




A sudden barrage of nurses, as if on cue, came upon bed 35 all at once. In a fit of high efficiency, I was speedily deposited onto a portable bed, then cranked up so high into the air, I almost hit the ceiling. The nurses’ heads bobbed as they wheeled me along the corridor.



It was a different perspective altogether while I dreamily admired the white-washed ceilings….I’ll never forget the fluorescent lights merging as a streamline of white glow as they flashed by.



it was a state of emptiness, of disassociation.



The dawn of enlightenment was just within my grasp...so this is what almost-Nirvana feels like......I reached out…



BANG! And almost flopped off the bed…. My cruising bed apparently collided with another patient’s. Immediately I fell back to earth. The other patient on his own bed looked me balefully as the nurse below us quarrelled throughout the trip to the colonoscope room.




Over there, the lady doc said:



‘Akk, I’m going to insert a thin tube into you and gently ease it into your intestines. Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit. I’ll be gentle. I’m going to keep you sedated now, alright? We’ll give you enough to make you sleep, so you won’t feel pain.’





See the bold words? The woman was a wang-ba-fucking-dan liar. I’ll now write down the true meaning of her words by substituting them …




‘Akk, I’m going to fucking jam a fricking massive hose into you and wham the bugger into your intestines all the way to your throat. Don’t worry, this will sibeh hurt really really bad! I’ll be so KN-sai chor lor to you your knees will never say ‘hi’ to each other again. I’m going to keep you conscious enough to feel that fricking fire up your asshole and yet weak enough to be unable to clench shut at entry, alrite? We’ll give you enough to make an ini-machiam ant doze for 5 sec, so you will fucking remember this UFO-experience forever.’





Chouji-Nabeh-dan...




MSN:

>and then the doc gave me anal probe, can?!! bloody hell, sibeh jialat...

>wah... you backside no more virgin liao.

>Wah lau!!! i never tot of that leh!!!




Later when I ask my visiting doctor frens (after they stop quizzing me exactly which angel Gabriel it was), they told me that the sedation injected into my drip should have sufficiently conked a large Doberman. I told them I wasn’t a doorman, so they had to check my drip and assess my health again. After making sure I’m perfectly lucid, they made me entertain them with a recount of my colonoscopy experience.



By the time I was done, they were lying across my blanketed feet in the ward, dying from stomach cramps themselves. When they could finally get some air, both Ham-Chee-Pang and Lek-Tau-Teng said they totally and absolutely commiserated with me, but also:




‘Wah lau, you got the constitution of an ox, issit?! Ppl usually sleep through the whole thing one leh! How come u so special? That sedation supposed to wipe out pain and recollection! Not only never sleep, kena pain also! U sibeh suay…’




To which I answered back, ‘Choujidan, how to sleep?! I saw everything can? Got fricking 40’ plasma screen inches from my face, can? Loh-kun, Nur-si and me all watching anal porn!’ then I had to stop because they got floored again…




*pissed* ‘Stop laughing! I not joking! Everytime she go and wedge the stoopid camera further into my butt, I saw my own insides split open like Red sea!! Sibeh painful! Like machiam Live–telecast Fear Factor!’




To which they collapsed again….




*mutter mutter* ‘Chouji-nabeh-dan…want faint from horror also cannot, everytime I tot can sleep liao, she starts jamming again…....Stop laughing, you chao buggers!’




muahahahhahahhahaahha…………!!!!




I’ve got some great frens, I have......



OUT!

AKK

The other Choujidan was the follow-up doctor who joked that my colon is 'pristine' and 'clean as a whistle'.

3 random facts….

Hi all!

I’ve been passed this baton by Jayaxe. Once again, it’s another one of those meaningful tags, so thanks! New fodder for the blog!.:)


1st story:



I stole for excitement.



Unlike Jaywalk, who stole a figurine during kindergarten and eventually felt guilty enough to return it back, I never returned what I stole. Mostly because, they couldn’t be returned anyway and also because, I never felt guilty about it at all.


When I was in primary 4, T-shirts with jewels, sequins and beads were all the rage. Aunties were wearing them to the market, those really stretchable materials that seem to hold about a ton of shiny fake diamonds on them. So when my family was out shopping, I would hang around feeling bored at my mother’s feet until she also got pissed with me and send me to sit under the mannequin. Then I’ll systematically strip the closest rack of jeweled clothing of its sparkly plastics and hoard them in my pocket, pretending they were real diamonds.



The minute i started, shopping is no longer boring. I’d surreptitiously hide myself between racks of clothing and start prying the gems off their arms. I would keep a lookout for any suspicious…ahem….sales aunties who are more sharp-eyed than the usual glazed ones, then look innocent or walk back to my mum, pocket full of stolen rocks. One time, I found a security camera that revolved itself around a particular section full of sequined costumes….so I just picked the sequins, gems and beads off each clothing while following behind the camera, so it never saw me.



One day, I’ll sure kena caught by police. thank goodness I soon became bored again...


*********************


2nd story:

What kind of bird do you want to be?


Recounted by my dad as I dun really remember the incident although I remember my answer. He remembers word for word our conversation in Chinese, but I’ll translate to English as best as I can.


When I was younger, I used to stay in the current West Coast Court. I was from a neighboring school so every sat, my dad would walk me past the forested area to my school for choir practice. I loved these times with my dad because I seldom see him during weekdays since I was always slept very early. he’d hold my hand or let me skip in front. Because it was heavily forested, we sometimes stop to look at swallows, eagles and yellow ochres flying by. One day, my dad asks me, when we were both admiring a pair of swallows dancing in the sky.


‘If you can be any bird, what would you be?’


*think hard, screw face*


‘I want to be a sparrow, pa.’


‘A sparrow? Those are swallows you are looking at, honey.’


‘I know, pa, but I still want to be a sparrow.’


He took my hand and we continued walking, me, of cos, skipping beside him because he takes really long steps.


‘But why be a sparrow when u can be a soaring eagle? Or a pretty yellow ochre or even a swift swallow?’


‘Pa, you are so silly. Last week, you just took me to Jurong Birdpark!’


‘Eh? What did Jurong Birdpark have to do with anything?’


‘I saw all the beautiful birds there, pa, all caged up….. So many sparrows at our kopi tiam where I drink milo but I never see them in Birdpark.’


‘But that’s because sparrows are not special, they’re everywhere.’


‘Must be special to be free meh?’


Funnily enough, my answer is still be the same now, 19 yrs down the road.


****************************************

3rd story.

Being a Boy....


I would like to talk about my colonoscopy experience but thought that this event deserves a big (and painful) entry all on its own. So I’ll talk about my childhood again.


Did I mention I look like a boy when I was in primary school? The thing is, no one ever believed much about it. But just because I grew my hair long, pluck my eyebrows, wore contacts and have breasts now, it didn’t mean I don’t look like the opposite sex when I was still prepubescent. Added to everything, I was an utter tomboy. Boys cower before me.


Although I never fought in my life, no boys ever wanted to have to deal with me. I think it might be due to that fierce angsty scowl I always had on my face, probably due to my hatred for my mum, who refused to let me grow my hair like a girl.


I think deep down inside, she thought making me look ugly might make me study better and have less problems with guys in general.


She was right; I never had guy problems all through secondary and did well in my studies. I am also, and I know it, extremely inferior about my physical self. She played a great part in it, always telling the barber to snip my hair all off to the ears and getting me plastic specs that made me look like a complete dork, but because I loved her, I obeyed her.


Which goes to show that parents are not always right. Chuikueh, you are reading this for the first time, so know and appreciate the fact that ah ma has become extremely lax and mellow with age when it came to you.


During these tumultuous times, I had this so-called best friend, N. We were always together, although I much preferred the boys’ more raucous company trying to catch butterflies during recess, then to spend it playing zero-point in the backyard with her. But then during those times, that’s what best friends do right? Stick together.



It came to a point in primary 6 when she started to go horribly wrong on me. She started calling me ‘hubby’ and refused to let any girls near me. She’d grab my hand and lead me away when my classmates wanted to join us for lunch. Since I didn’t have many female frens, this didn’t occur often, hence I didn’t really care. Furthermore, I was trying to get into the League of super-chee-goo-pah players during recess, so I was more or less always queuing up with the guys to go 1-to-1 combat with the chee-go-pah king.


I didn’t see it coming. One day, we went to the restrooms together (Oh yah, due to a voyeur incident, girls are cautioned to go to the loo in pairs).




She suddenly pushed me into a cubicle and er…..hugged me….


.................

…….ok….........I think I better let up on the details because I’m writing this 14 years down the road and still, I’m chickening out at the last moment….*Goosebumps*




Suffice to say, I was the bigger of the two. I pushed her away and I may have slapped her or punched her, but I forgot.



However, I remembered that I never spoke to her again.



3 random facts dredged out deep from my soul….what do you think?

Out!

AKK

the name of problem.......

In matrix, it's called a glitch in the system.

in ecology, it's called a mutant in a population.

to diabetics, it's the ant in the toilet bowl.


It's a red flawless apple with a rotten core.

the colour black in my rainbow.

the food stains on my favorite white shirt.



in life and maths, it's called a problem.


I have a problem, i cannot deny it.


And the mirror didn't work...


pls, i need to be happy again.




akk.

Bread Escapade...

Hi all!


Recently, I’ve been confused about some things in my life. I can’t say what they are except that I’ve become sleepless over them. In fact, I don’t even think they are problems, but I’m still sleepless anyway….



geez….i hate being clueless…




But regardless! I shall talk abt happy things today!


I’ve gotten myself a Breadmaker! Weee….!!! I’ve been wanting it since JC! But back then, breadmakers were toys for rich tai-tais. They come looking like a rice-cooker, then all anyone has to do is to just dump in the water, the milk, the eggs and the flour and let the machine do all the mixing kneading and baking! This is like the culinary equivalent to nuclear fission....






breadmaker


Can imagine all those tai-tais who’s never had to descale a fish or cube up raw meat before, viewing this machine like Godsend. It would feel as if u’ve done all the house-wifey work of making bread for your hubby and kids. Everyone applauds you for that delicious raisin bread that you didn't make, the banana-chocolate chip bread which you got thru pressing a few buttons. People admiring your dedication to your family in the form of fresh bakery everyday!




Wah......




I also wan.....




So recently, Safe superstore had a sale advertised in the straits times. 3-days only! Breadmakers $99 each! Just 50 sets! Limited to one per customer! Enjoy great savings! No regrets!



So immediately after I left work, I rushed down to Harbourfront, hoping against hope that there are only 49 tai-tai wannabes working there who reads the newspapers and are free during lunchtime…



Fat chance…



I even ran up the escalator with my elder brother trailing behind (him with the car, who drove me to get my new toy…).



When I sprinted through the entrance, I breathlessly accosted a bewildered sales personnel, grabbing him and almost screaming,




‘where is it?!’





‘what what?’ *panicky*





‘the 50th breadmaker!’






it took a while to register, by the time when I was about to bite his head off, he wordlessly pointed to some nondescript boxes right beside him….

Nicely packed, 5 boxes-high, were 10 rows of breadmakers….




And my elder brother heaved a huge ‘Haiz!!’ right behind me for making him accelerate past 70km/hr…….




But who cares! I got my breadmaker! Yippee! Now can pretend to be those homely gals who bakes scrumptious breads for their boyfrens or hubbies….



And A does love his bread….:)





After making the salesman move the pile to get the lowermost, innermost box of breadmaker among all the identical breadmakers, I happily brought it home (via my brother).





Here’s wat I’ve done to it:


Monday: I made a ‘deluxe white bread’ becos I’m very law-abiding and the attached recipe book tells me to ‘try this recipe first!’, so I tried it.


Then half-way through mixing, A came over to watch me watch my machine rolling the dough into a perfect ball….


‘hey! Bread! Can I have chocolate chips in it?’ he sounded so happy and look so pleading that I couldn’t say no, although Logic is shouting out that it’s a ‘deluxe WHITE bread’.

deluxe White bread




‘pls, dear?’ *hugs*

Oh well, Logic be damned!




‘OK…..I guess we can add 1 cup of it.’



then he took out my secret stash of Hersey’s semi-sweet chips. I realised now that lots of stashes that I tot were secret wasn’t a secret to my whole family. Now he has been included into the circle…I wonder how they found out…



so I carefully measured out 1 cup and dumped it slowly into the ball and we both watched the machine hungrily for a while…then......



‘you think 1 cup of chips is enuff?’



‘dunno, wat u think?’



‘I think we add another cup?’



we stared at the dough ball inside again for another five minutes. Already the chips were disappearing into the mixture, we hardly saw any on the surface.



Then suddenly, we heard the spongebob cartoon theme song blaring from the TV outside.


Whoooooo…..lives in a pineapple under the sea?

Spongebob Squarepants!!!

Suddenly, in a moment of immense decisiveness and teamwork, A opened the cover of the machine while I upended my precious chocolate chips onto the bread dough, then hand-in-hand, we rushed out to watch our favorite cartoon…….



After 3 hours, the bread was ready and we eagerly tipped it out, pinched a small piece each and blowing our burning fingers, popped the morsel into our mouths….



2 seconds of chewing was all it took. We frowned and stared at one another, then back at the bread.



Taking the knife, A sliced it right down the middle and opened it up…….




You would have tot that bread dough with almost a whole bag of Hershey's chips would be brimming with ...er....chips, but noooo....We couldn’t find any sign of them……



becoming brown bread


On the other hand, We've just found out how to make dark brown WHITE Bread.



OUT!

AKK

Se7en...

hi all!!!


Li-er and Nad passed me this. And after doing this exercise, I have learnt something abt myself in the process...


# 7 things that scare me...
1. spiders
2. ghosts
3. having my family broken in any way
4. suffering before death
5. Lost my financial independence
6. becoming pessimistic
7. finding out I can’t have a babe of my own (touch wood)

# 7 things that I like most...
1. my family being whole
2. Hang out with my friends
3. being able to have dinner with my family
4. money (who doesn’t?)
5. being able to see something happy and beuatiful in something small
6. food, all kinds!!
7. having companionship and yet, the freedom to be alone

# 7 important things in my room...
1. power-rider to hang my clothes
2. my bed
3. secret stash of porn
4. me (duh!)
5. my art and art/craft supplies
6. PC and lappy
7. books, books books….

# 7 random facts about me...

1. before i did braces i couldn't ever close my mouth...

2. I almost always wear white clothings
3. I thought of commiting suicide (last time lah)
4. my abs used to be a 4-pack (long long time ago…*burst into tears*)
5. I was born cross-eyed, that’s why I was so cute as a baby
6. I wear maternity clothes to buffets (hehehe…small sized ones…ahem…)
7. I look like a guy so much last time, I can walk into a male toilet and no one would question me. The fishball auntie also call me ‘ahboy’ when I was clearly wearing a skirt.



# 7 things I plan to do before I die...
1. sex
2. have a family
3. learn professional glass art
4. save up to ji pah ban then spend like hieow….
5. to be able to wear a bikini and not be self-conscious
6. tell the ppl around me I love them

7. continue blogging and keep my identity secret

# 7 things I can do...
1. love and love alot
2. make a mistake and apologise
3. sleep with mouth closed
4. cartwheels, that is, if my arms can still support my weight

5. appreciate being alive

6. imagine (hahahaha….)
7. do the right thing (sighz)

# 7 things I can't do...
1. forget something that is forgiven
2. be sure of my left and right (loong chiah!)
3. sing (heheh….)
4. be a volunteer at an old folk’s home or children’s home
5. be neat
6. feel sorry for myself (too thick-skinned)
7. hurt anyone intentionally (I hope…)

# 7 things I say the most…
1. wah lau!
2. sorry!
3. thank you.
4. hiya! ni hao!
5. choujidan!
6. huh? *blurr*
7. jidan….-__-*



# 7 celeb crushes…
1. Horatio Caine from CSI miami

2. Tommy Lee Jones
3. Harrison Ford
4. the tallest guy in 5566 (forgot his name…looks good tho..)
5. Greg Sanders in CSI LV


# 7 people I'll love to see doing this...pls do as you will, because it's again, pretty much a chainmail, but I'd like to know abt you guys! :)


1. jaywalk
2. tempestblue
3. frenie
4. vanna
5. stars
6. lancerlord
7. chuikueh

8. Ed, Edd and Eddy

Missing A........

Hi all!


I’m usually a genuinely happy person. I mean, I try to be. One of the most important things I’ve learnt is to be happy.



Like, looking at the mirror and saying ‘I’m happy’ for 50 times.........


It does actually help, OK? Veteran ‘I’m happy’ chanter down here dispensing advice. Even when Life deals u a bad blow, don’t mope, don’t collapse and don’t give up.




Just go find a mirror.....




And ignore all the flaws on your face during said chanting........




And no digging!




It’s damn corny but it’s true. Many times during research, months of preparations can all go down the drain in just 1 single day due to just 1 stoopid mistake that occurs in the space of 5 min. The worse is having to accept that it really really really is your fault and no one else’s becos the project is your baby.



Since I’ve given my baby back to my professor, I’ve been floating like a freaking happy balloon freewheeling in the sky....

Suddenly, there's less acne and more visible facial skin. A lighter step even with the same shoes.




Even also kena walk-peach-flower-luck and got myself a new, marvellous addition to my life.



I’m a happy camper right now. All in all, there is nothing but a freaking improvement in my life.......so ok, have to start giving Ah Ma 50% of my ini-machiam salary to show my deep appreciation for her homemade dinners (ahem) and freshly laundered clothes to wear everyday.



But essentially, life is good.



It’s hard enough to go to work without a big grin splitting the face and I have to curb the urge to point my finger at a few idiotic colleagues and say, ‘Is your life as good as mine??’



Wah lau, damn near did it a few times, but I didn’t. Mean lah, but some of these colleagues drive me crazy........



For one thing, most of them dress in short short skirts ala NUS babes (which they are actually....damn...) and like to flash their lovely long thighs at me. I have a suspicious feeling it's a conspiracy out to get my ego.....everyone is wearing such teensy-weensy skirts nowadays.... The thing is, if they wore something that showed off half their boob balls, I wouldn’t have minded, becos I got boobs also.

But the thighs.....the thighs I dun have and these, these they wiggle and swiggle about and prance like young geldings.........


Another thing, they have seen a pic of A after sneaking over my shoulder one day when I was mooning, eye glazed, and said something that would have deeply wounded me had my skin not been tougher than the canteen’s mee pok tah.


‘Wow! How did you managed to get someone that looks like this?!’


Choujidan! How, indeed! If they had been more sarcastic, I would have gone straight home to bang my mum’s wooden clogs on some red paper dolls with their passport-sized photos and burn holes thru the eyes with joss-stick. But since they look genuinely speechless, I was feeling more charitable and only prayed for the elevator to jam on their way home.........



Alright, enough bitching! If you’ve not realised, I’m in my PMS phase now, so although I’d like to put (another!) disclaimer that says, ‘anything and everything that I blurt out is not my fault but me hormones working overtime’, I cannot.


Becos I’m a woman of Science......

F***

(see? I even censor for the sake of underaged eyes....).

Must.......control.........my.........temper........

Kaaaa-BBOOMMMM!!!!!!





Today, I just admitted to myself I may be feeling a bit bluer than my normal happy self.....A has been too busy and he doesn’t work normal hours. I've been pretty busy too, but when I’m free, well..... I’m really free.....that’s why I’m writing this blog now.....



......OK, so I miss him.... a bit ........... not a lot ......

..........*sniff*.........



I kinda hope to have more work, becos at least it can take my mind off the moping. I often wondered how come those Korean and Jap babes still managed to catch the Yan dao when all they do is cast their puffy red-eyes and stuffy faces at the camera forlornly. I mean, when I cry, I gush like Old Faithful and snort and make those irritating hiccups that seriously gives my throat grief. Moping afterwards gives me wrinkly black eyebags and makes my frens afraid to approach me for fear of enduring another geyser gush or seeing Sadako.....


10 yrs ago before, when fren J just knew me.....,


J: ‘I’ve seen u around, rite?’


AKK: ‘Yes, I’m your junior.’


J: ‘I remember you….you don’t look very frenly.’


AKK: ‘I’ve got PMS.’


J: ‘What? All the time?’



.......... -__- ........




OK, so I look very du lan most of the time......not just when I mope.......but 10 yrs down the road, J just popped another remark yesterday over kopi with me.




‘Are u depressed? Or working too hard?’



‘Why? Do I look it?’



‘Well..... Not really......but...



‘Say it, man!'



‘Well, U do look a bit tired.........’


‘.....ok....’


‘.......and old-er........’


‘........’



.......So yesterday I was looking my du lan self........


......add a few years for the ‘a bit tired’ comment......


........add double for ‘and old-er’...........


.......And you can put another 5 years on me in comparision to all those young Giseles prancing in the office .........



....... After some quick mental calculations, I looked about 35 over kopi.....




‘What u mean......a bit?’



*sensing trouble...* ‘A bit is a bit lah.’



‘A little bit or a big bit?’






I need to shut up right about now.......



And perhaps it’s time to invest in some low tops that expose half my boob balls.....

A just smsed to say he can’t meet today....

Oh well, time to go find a mirror........

And I promise not to dig .......





OUT!


AKK

PS. Following the spirit of Lancerlord, 5 things I'm thankful for today.

1. My lil' bro's blog

2. My new breadmaker :)

3. Kong Bah Pau for lunch and Lontong for dinner

4. Finding the Incredible Hulk's Pic

5. My boobs

Another member of the Family...

Hi all!



Lil' brother thought I won't do anything as crass as introducing him, but he's wrong. There's no need to actually, since he's getting feedback already, but becos I'm his big impatient sis and because it's something that family members should do for each other, I'm excited to announce the birth of another Kueh blog (Against his knowledge and his wishes).....

Drumroll pls!


*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....................*





It is my pleasure to introduce the one and only newly steamed, vegetarian, fresh-from-the-wicker-tier Chui Kueh!!!!

...........$2, add chilli, add chai poh.........

Hmmm....This is my lil' brother....minus the chai poh....



After seeing his first entry, big sis hope chui kueh doesn't get too addicted to blogging. First sentence already scaring akk. As for his content, I din noe that 16 yr-olds know the word 'sex'...I mean....tsk tsk...it was 'making love' in my time...


Oh well, gotta let little chicks spread their wings one day....


All the best, li' Bro and enjoy yourself!


Out!


AKK

(and go finish your chem revision....)

Reason for a blog...

(Covering-ur-ass-disclaimer: MSN conversations and personal dialog featured have been embellished in content, and enhanced with colour, pauses and crickets....hehehe...)

Hi all!

In case you guys are hoping for something funny today, I shall have to warn you that this post shall be kinda depressing…and loser-ish…


…and corny….of cos…



In reality, the reason why I blog is to have an outlet for myself. This means I sometimes find myself in a quandary. I don’t seem to be able to reconcile the halves of me, online and off, into one whole. Perhaps last time, I could have been, because I did not know the joy of posting online my private thoughts. Right now, I’d find myself living my life more fulfillingly in virtual than reality at odd times.



I need to confess something; I’m a laid-back boring person. True, I can laugh and engage in conversation like any other, but I lack the courage to voice out a true opinion among strangers unless I want to offend ppl, or to tell a tale with enough confidence to make ppl laugh.




Someone once asked me to tell him a joke on MSN, but I couldn’t remember any jokes except a damn funny biology joke and a super-lame general one.




So I told him the damn funny biology one:




‘Ay Ay, when do u know that your lab aircon is down?


‘what lab?’


‘just play along, ok?’


‘right right! when?’


‘when you can do your heat-shock transformation on the benchtop! Muahahahah!’









(silence….extra crickets in backgrd…)



and then.........‘okie, perhaps another joke?’







So much for the Biology joke.







So I told him the super-lame one that goes like this:


‘Imagine you are walking in a forest and see a fork in the road, do u take left or right?’


To which he dutifully answered, ‘right.’


‘You see a house, do you go in or peer through the window?’


‘Go in.’


‘You see a pile of fruits on the table. All kinds of fruit from all over the world regardless of the season! Quick! Which fruit will you pick out and eat first?!’

Quick! Choose!

Almost immediately, ‘A liew lian!’



‘whoa! good choice, is durian. this is a personality test actually. Damn accurate one.’


‘Oh wow! Quick tell me! What’s my personality? Oh wait!’


‘What?’


Does the type of liew lian matter?’


‘Well, it’ll be more accurate if it does.’


‘OK, I only eat D24 liew lian, not any other liew lians. Then only the full fruit, not the pre-packed one. Now More accurate liao hor?’


‘Yup.’


‘Okie! so what’s my personality?’




















‘You like to eat D24 Liew Lian.’

D24 Liew lian! Whole fruit! Not packed!

(Pregnant pause on MSN and then the guy wrote back….)






‘Yes and.......?’

‘That’s it.’

(Another pregnant pause, during which I left my seat to go pee for 5 min, lim chui and comb hair...........)







Then....

‘What you mean: That’s IT? Wah Lau! Damn lame lor. What kinda joke is that?!’




And he proceeded to type out about 5 racist jokes and 6 dumb blonde jokes furiously on MSN straight off his memory to feed me with to-tell-other-ppl-and-no-siah-suay-myself decent jokes.......




Actually, I really do mean what I say, fren. That’s it. That’s all there is. To me. I rent romance from the store in HV and periodically get charged extra because I always fail to return them on time. I eat my lunch in my cubicle, I pack yesterday’s leftovers because my mum is a bad cook and the canteen’s just too faraway. I used to sing when i bathed until a blackout occurred just when i hit a high-note one day.

I’m just a boring workslave trying her best to go through life with as much excitement as a stack of romance books, packed lunches and humming while bathing can provide.





Which is why when the sun sets and the lights turn on and I’m in the comforts of home, I blog. I blog my life when something interesting hits me. I blog abt the past when something triggers it. I blog abt others. I blog abt me. And I blog for my readers who understood that the voice-over JBP song originally started out as a bunch of jokey requests left by you guys after the first voice-blog.





That, incidentally, is the reason why I don’t usually update much. I blog as Life happens and there’d be days on end that nothing of interest happens. It is also a pathetic way of blog-survival, I’m almost constantly working on nothing to provide the desired fodder. As according to the Way-of-the-Flutter-Flutter, everyday I wait for Inspiration to hantam me over the head.




Sometimes the aim is good and I get a flying tackle, sometimes it just misses to whack another lucky bastard.....




Since I'm not into goth nor suicidal nor like to blog abt sad stuff, my entries are mostly a compilation of the funny happenings and any interesting pasts in my Life.




Hence it acts as a compact morale-booster to remind me that happy things did indeed happen to me in times when I hit one of Life's potholes. Yes, rather like a flower-press. Brings a smile to my face :).




Which is also the reason why this conversation was being held:



‘Your rendition of the JPB song damn funny know? I laugh like crazy when you went 'Oops'! Very entertaining!’


To which I said, a bit too truthfully (but hoping to be overruled), ‘Well, blogs tend to be more interesting than the real person….’


To which the person replied without pause, straight-faced, ‘Very true.’

.....Choujidan.... -_-*









I’m glad to have met certain people and they very recently, in fact only yesterday, lightened me up with their glitzier lifestyle (read: eat, drink and be merry).


Frankly, other than the preoccupation of sexual craze resulting from sex deprivation, a stash of porn, a precious sacred Kama Sutra-Illustrated and a really horrible singing voice, I am without any other known vices.



Not because I think they are morally wrong. But because I just can’t hold my liquer, I don’t know how to count the odds in gambling and smoke gives me a headache.



Hopefully, their life has not been dimmed by mine.

Out!

AKK

Incidentally, that’s also why I don’t like being ‘tomorrow-ed’, I think some ppl think I did my cover becos I wanted my fame and fortune, but pls, let it be clear now that I don't need it, neither want it. I've had it last time and didn't like it. (I never thought I actually needed a disclaimer like this...but I think I better put it down). I'm getting some really freaky strange comments as it is, which I don't enjoy.



While most of these posts are happy ones, I can’t possibly go through my life always churning out happy, shiny entries. Life does not run this way and sometimes, although I’m happy, it’s hardly bloggable. This time, it’s just because I’m in the company of a great fren after sneaking out of the office ard lunctime, binged at 2 different cafes, an atas restaurant and a fricking cold pub all in a day.


I managed to meet another fren who is damn cute and funny herself and who wasn’t that pissed that I made her wait 1 hour for me. Then, in the course of said-day, I met more new frens, drank my first red, had my first bite of damn atas lamb chop and down a vodka lime wearing a fleece jacket. This kind of life and company doesn’t come everyday…



So thank you all, especially to the original 2 frens, for the great time I’ve had!


I should also say 'We should do this often!' but then only one of them is Singapore-bound.

Oh heck, see u in Dec then.