The sporadicness of me

Seriously, did y'all really think that I haven't been writing because of lack of something to say, an opinion to give, a grievance to air, a grumble to murmur or perhaps being suddenly taken with the twiddling of thumbs? Which only goes to prove once again, how very little attention you actually pay to the things that I say and also further reinforces the fact that you'll probably never, ever figure me out. As hard as you may damn well try.

The previous week, I had fallen prey to this and this and this and was handicapped as you may recall. This week however, my right brain and 3/4 of my left were unceremoniously kidnapped by Gordon Ramsey. Yes, he of Kitchen Nightmares, Hell's Kitchen, and recently, The F Word fame/notoriety.

I know, his gutter of a mouth is legen-DARY (god, I can no longer look at this word the same way after Neil Patick Harris, go watch this if you still don't know who he is, loser. Because it's only THE best show since Friends.) but I just cannot tear my eyes away from the screen whenever he's on (and there are only 4 seasons of KN, UK version for me to catch up on, which translates to roughly about 40 hours of TV-gazing, if you're the sort who keeps tracks of things like that), what is it about this craggy-faced, absolutely obnoxious and abrasive fella that has me thus enthralled?

Damn if I know. But I promise that YOU will be the first to know when I find out.

Want to have a little taste of him and the yummilicious dishes he whips up?

Gotta love a man who just can't, for the life of him, comprehend how any red-blooded, sane human being, doesn't love eating meat. Exactly.

What the heck is wrong with y'all? The rich flavour of pan-seared kobe beef is just out of this world and SO worth clogging up those arteries for. Somehow, eggplant and carrots and gluten( oh, the horror) just can't compare. Sorry but I'm just not a salad girl aye.

In other news, I lost my atm card for the the billionth time (I know I'm telling you this as if you care) and am now in even more dire straits than ever.

Obviously, Ignoring that 10-cent coin carelessly dropped by someone (obviously richer than I am) is now no longer an option.

Today, I shall dedicate at least 2.35 hours to penny-fishing/picking. And yes, of course, you will be kept abreast of the results of this utterly brilliant, cash-cow idea. I am nothing, if not generous and sharing.

Until then.

I seek you, yes YOU

Let's all just pretend that THIS didn't happen. That I didn't actually expect the lot of you to heed me. So, knowing how you all rock at blatantly ignoring me, let's move along now, shall we?

I need to know. And this time, I implore you, HELP ME. It is considered good in certain circles, Heaven, for example, to partake in a little charitable act now and then.

How does one make a sticky post? Is it even possible on blogger? Can I make a post that will be annoyingly THERE and in your face, each time you log on to PPP? The post that never goes away, never dies, never gives up, despite being flung your loud and probably obscene curses?

I know that amongst you, walk that rare breed of bloggers, you know, the ones who scoff at wiki for it's inacquracies, who scorn those who use Go0gle as a verb (hey, I'm not judging, coz Lord knows I *Google* everything), the Ones who are born with a Microprocessor that can beat Intel any day, embedded within their brains or some other anatomy (don't think I don't know what and where you're thinking about, you gutter-minds).

And to you, O Know-it-all, I come before you and humbly seek your expertise. I promise to make it worth your while to mentor me, because I, understand and appreciate the distance you'll need to travel, from the upper echelons down to where, mere mortal (read : blogger n0Ob) that I am, reside.

Your compensation shall be great. On this day, four years from now, you will remember how you once reached out a hand to one, less worthy, inexperienced but oh-so-willingly to absorb being.

I await you, O Know-it-all, with the greatest of anticipation and heart, clutched in hand.

You like me. You really really like me.

I've been thinking (my brain tends to do that when my fingers are idle and YOU of all people should know the evil that rendered my hands (yes, both) practically useless, save for the cable remote control), you sure are one silent lot.

I don't know whether to be deliriously thankful (for the lack of flames; though since I've not yet written anything salacious yet, there's no reason for any so that's moot really) or manically depressed because you obviously don't find me worth those few minutes of your precious time.

Please, if you will, and I'm asking ever so sweetly (which you all know is not something I'm used to, being the egoistical, bossy creature that I am) and with the sincerest of sincerity, why? Why am I met with this dead silence over and over again? With the exception of my food god, nobody deigns to even drop a measly HI!. Pfft. The two letters aren't very far apart either, so now that you know, do something to rectify your transgressions. If you're contrite enough, I might even forgive you.

And don't think I haven't drawn my own conclusions (because you know I rock at that) about why with a couple of million bloggers out there and another million blog purveyors, there is no bloody sign of life here. It boggles the mind. And when YOU boggle my mind, you bring to fruition these thoughts.

Possiblity #1 : I've been remiss in putting up tantalizing pictures of scantily-clad female bodies writhing on the bed/sofa/computer table/floor.

Possiblity #2 : You have no idea at all what the heck I'm always going on about, ergo no reason to comment. (Don't go thinking that I'm going to accept ignorance as an excuse coz I'm NOT.)

Possiblity #3 : Alright, this actually is a fact; my posts are usually too damn long and with no clear and drool-worthy pictures to alleviate the monotony, your brains can no longer function. Which of course leads us back to Possibility #1.

I don't know what you people are thinking but I swear I do NOT know Edison nor hang out with the likes of him. SO can you really blame me for the lack of pictures of me, half-clothed lounging on the bed and purring like a kitten? Think about it.

In OTHER news, the folks dragged us to Vienna at Thompson for the last day of CNY. I know right, yet more feasting. And no, my ever-expanding girth is really none of your business.

I wasn't too impressed with the quality of most of the food available, my steak and lamp chops came to the table charred and tougher than aged leather.

The vegetable dishes were cooked to death. The salmon sashimi was a little too salmony for my taste. And get this, watered down WINE. Dudes, you have to BE there to fully appreciate the extreme monstrosity that was the diluted wine. God. Have they thrown all pride to the wind?

But I have to give them props for the divine selection of cakes. Guess what sort? Awww, you really do know me! Yes, cheese cake of the Chicago, NYC, Orea and Blueberry kind. My heart fluttered and I thought I might swoon but since I was quite nicely cushioned between an overly-eager auntie and her daughter, swoon I could not.

I too wondered what the heck these were. Like you, I have the inquiring mind and natural curiosity of a 3 year old. So I took the lot of them and sampled the entire rack of test tubes. What a complete waste of bladder space. Yet more watered-down liquids. This time, apple juice, lime juice, pineapple and lemon.

You should all be so proud of me. Because despite having a pair of hands that can't do squat, I am 1) able to stuff my face with such classy dexterity, 2) operate the TV/Cable remote without resorting to my tongue, 3) finally take the pictures of the masks that I said I would.

For the sake of brevity (which by now you know how I rule at), I'm gonna run. Things to do, (yes, like basking in the fawning of my legion fans), asses to kick, yet more clicking to perform now that my fingers are all healed, ya know, just my usual daily shite.

P.S Hi, now how hard was that? No, seriously. Do something.

You know you're a damn blogger when...

1)It's CNY eve of the eve and you're supposed to be busy spring-cleaning your room but you're checking out your blog stats, once again proving what a no-lifer you are.

2)It's CNY eve of the eve and you ARE busy baking and kneading yet manage to find time in between to run to the 'puter to check out blog posts like *Monetize your Blog NOW*, once again proving that you're a good-for-nothing, n'er-do-well bum.

3)Your kitchen is on FIRE and when you get your butt off the chair and dash madly to said fire, the first thought that comes to mind is, "Omg, this is going to be such an awesome thing to blog about!", therefore affirming the irrefutable fact of your bloody blogger-ness.

So yea, the kitchen was indeed on fire but did I notice the creeping burning smell that was even then making it's way into my room? OF COURSE I did, what, you think that apart from being severly myopic, I've got no olfactory sense as well?

However.

I dismissed it as some yahoo burning *paper money* downstairs and the odour was simply wafting up all the way to the 9th floor of my apartment. (You CANNOT fault me for getting CNY and the 7th month *Ghost Festival* mixed up, I swear that I know not the difference except that on CNY, you get fed more while on the 7th month, you feed The Others (read: the dead), oh and of course there's the REAL cash that's being given out to the kids and unweds. And no, I'm not ashamed to admit that I happily accept all red packets with open palms even if I'm *supposedly* too old for that shite. At least I'm honest about it. What about you?).

Suffice to say that I spent the next half an hour (that I could have better used to do research on SEO tactics) putting out the fire, placating a mother who was almost in tears and scrubbing p the stove, the floor, the table, the island top, the EVERYfcukingWHERE. And where were YOU when I needed your help?

Not being the most placid and calm person on earth, I remained surprisingly unflustered and dare I say, even slightly thrilled, because YES, I get something fun to tell you people about. There is never a day that goes by without me being concerned about alleviating your boredom, because I recognize in you the same craving for my supremely delightful chatter as I do with my other 309485596 adoring, fawning fans from this planet and beyond.

Yoda, despite his habitual spewing of crap and busy with Starwars IVV, happens to be one of my most ardent supporter and I, his. And I quote him, "Less droopy my skin the Placenta mask makes".

I am now, though, so sapped and drained of all physical strength after mopping the floor 19 times to remove every trace of ash that I can barely type. So you'll just have to make do with pictures (NO, not of the fire you crazy lot, how sick do you think I am?!) that I had taken while slaving away at the stove BEFORE said fire. There was much that I wanted to share with you, like how at 2a.m I am still cooking and frying flour (you'll understand why when you see the pics) while most of you are probably out getting wasted.

This is how sad my life has become. Really.

Big-ass pot of grated pineapple cooking and stirred every 3 minutes for 4 hours. Sounds like fun?

Big-ass wok of tapioca flour to be fried until super-airy and super-flyaway and super-light.

Looks super easy I hear you say. BUT WAIT.

Until....THIS

Imagine having to fry flour and stir thick pineapple paste at the SAME time. Seriously dudes, you have to actually be DOING it yourselves to fully appreciate the aching of the arms and pounding headache from the heat (yes, I cannot tolerate temperature that's above 25 degrees, well NOW you know).

In case I made you think that I'm alone in the torture chamber, you can rest easy tonight, knowing that I'm no martyr nor Martha Stewart [not only coz I can't cook without specific instructions but also coz I've got NOTHING taxable and thus need not evade taxes. :-(] and that my ever dedicated Mom, who with her can-do spirit is busy with THIS.

It's impossible for me to even articulate how fcuking labour intensive making pineapple tarts and kueh lapis is. Mom is right now sitting on a stool by the oven baking the Kueh lapis layer by layer. And because she's such a perfectionist, unlike the sell-out Bengawan Solo who now *manufactures* evrything in a factory and thus make crap-tasting Kueh Lapis, she painstakingly applies a thin layer of batter on each baked layer before putting in into the oven and starts the process all over again like 23435 times for EACH cake. And that is why her Kueh lapis is renowned amongst our relatives and friends and everyone clamours for one come CNY. Unfortunately, both her daughters being slothful and baking illiterates cannot render the help that she needs to fulfil all the many orders. So only the select and priviledged few will be bestowed this beautiful creation.

Because me being me and because I rock at multi-tasking, in between stirring and frying I was also able to do this.

AND This.

*gasps* Nicotine Kills and gives you Cancer. (And NOW you tell me.)

But seriously, Do NOT attempt to follow in my footsteps (unless you're invincible and impervious to all kinds of ailments like I obviously am), if you value your lungs and life. And being stressed out is NO excuse either. Which is why I'm not using the feeble excuse of having to finish baking and cooking everything before tomorrow to USE tobacco

You are probably wondering, and where then are the fruits of their efforts?I present to you, The Finest Pineapple Tarts in the Universe. No, Seriously. It's a pity the pictures don't do them the slightest justice.

But trust me (because you know my taste is peerless) when I say that they are the most sublime mix of melt-in-the-mouth buttery pastry topped with a generous dollop of sweet, slighly tangy pineapple jam. If you beg, I might let you try some.

I just couldn't resist showing off what I had for dinner. Once again, the pictures may look crap but let me tell you, there's just nothing like home-cooked chicken buah Keluak and Beef Rendang. So rich, so flavourful, so bloody sinful. What? Like y'all so virtuous and have never indulged in high-fat, artery-clogging, liver-damaging, toxic activities in your lives before. Pfft.

In other MORE important news, new stock have arrived but do you seriously, really expect me to take pictures of them and talk at length about them AFTER all that you know I've been through tonight?

I thought not. You are of a kind and compassionate nature, selfless and understanding, much like myself, which is why you are HERE in the first place.

As digg likes to say while it's digging through your submissions (which we all know it's only coz they're too cheap to buy more bandwidth and more intelligent programmers), Patience my friend, is a Virtue. PAH!

Sleep deprivation serves you nothing but ill will

I fell violently ill on the plane (yes, I know, my body is a complete wuss that CAN'T even put up with a 2 hour plane ride without going limp) and my next door neighbour, a kind gentlemanly Aussie (no they're not all crude and boorish, you judgy lot) was concerned enough to ask if I was alright. (Thanks for being such a sweetheart Matt =)

It could have been me laying my head down on the food tray and sniffling away throughout the flight that led him to think that I was sobbing heart-wrenching tears because of dumpage by some bastard (but since by all accounts, my singlehood is still very much keeping it's status quo, y'all don't have to worry about me being heartbroken and whatnot).

After reassuring him that all was well and that my dysfunctional body that is mystifyingly immune to most drugs if not all (uh huh, even your bloody valium, domicum, xanax, stillnox and what have you (don't look at me like I'm some sort of junkie coz I'm NOT; please keep yourself in the loop of my intimate familarity with said drugs before you start making ASSumptions aye), just will not tolerate re-cycled cabin air (which is still a great mystery to me since everyone else appears to be all fine and dandy), well, coupled with the 0 hours of sleep I got the night before I guess, we struck up a great discussion/discourse on the merits of living in Bangkok.

It's strange, but almost every farang that I've met who has lived there for more than a year is able to see the city for all her blatant and glaring flaws (rats and roaches as dining companions, agressive ladyboys tugging at your sleeve, garbage and insane traffic are but some of the few pleasant qualities of this awesome city), is still unable to let go of her. I mean, sure they gripe a whole lot but to really severe the ties and cut the strings completely, nuh uh, that's almost like asking them to give up their manhood. Or go through a castration of sorts. Jing Jing di, I kid you not. If any of you farangs out there happen to *stumble* upon this post, perhaps you could do me the favour of explaining WHY, why when you lot whinge and complain so much and yet still refuse to go home? *pssst* (Is it the Som Tam?) Or the Pad Ka Prao Nger?
Or has it got something to do with the drop-dead, gorgeous katoeys who can give a regular supermodel a run for her money any day? (No need for shame now, you Nana Plaza regulars, be proud, stand tall and represent your amorality! I will never judge you nor cast aspersions on your fine character because you favour these creatures of perfect beauty. But I cannot speak for others. I am loathed to be judged myself, so fret not dear friend)

Or maybe The exhorbitant sum you as a farang have to pay just to visit a national park or a Muay Thai Kickboxing match even though you've lived there for 5 years, can speak Thai fluently, eat Tom Yum Khai for breakfast, Pad Thai for lunch and Tom Yam Kung for dinner and have a teeny weeny Thai girl perched on your shoulder (read : the double-pricing just coz you look white, while all I have to do is say Mai Chai Farang, lot noi dai mai ka na na na na piiii? and I instantly get an indulgent smile and pay what the locals do)? Is it the sanook and sabai sabai attitude of the people and the city that makes you feel like you're in some surreal, dream-like land where everyone is somewhat child-like and will possibly never appreciate the humour in an episode of Frasier and thus make escaping our *first-world* country so much more enticing? (This I can definitely empathize with, for I too was once so badly enamoured of this city that I was, every waking minute scheming means and ways of staying there legally or otherwise; I really didn't give two flying fcuks at that point, trust me, I would have done whatever it took).

So blokes, seriously, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL is it then, if not for all that and barring the low-ass cost of living in BKK that is? Pray tell. All I seek is to understand. Do NOT start getting all pissy and defensive on me. I am on YOUR side. I reiterate, I merely want to understand the psyche of these particular farangs. Obviously I'm not going to dump you all into one same category. I'm talking about the ones who grumble incessantly but yet don't want to go *home*. Inquiring minds need to know.

In other news, despite not having slept for the past 27.85 hours, I still have loads of baking to do (chyeah, I'm totally your Martha Stewart doppleganger, you really think I enjoy this don't you?) But I know the more cognizant ones will know, actually KNOW the truth.

On that note, I shall proceed to my bloody unpacking, 34.67mins power nap and then into the torture chamber.

You should be so lucky.

Bah.

PPP closed til the 7th

It's now 4.15am and I've just finished helping mom bake yet MORE almond and cashew nut cookies (we're talking about 15 trays here) and another 4 batches of pineapple tarts. Did I mention that her tarts are just out of this world yummy and she never skimps on ingredients and insists on using only the best butter and flour? Maybe one day you too will be lucky enough to taste these lil morsels of divine pleasure.

Til the 7th then!

Happy New Year and don't forget to go forth and Mask!

Just so you know I haven't been lazing around all night

These bottles of almond cookies were hand-rolled, hand-shaped, hand-eggwashed, hand-baked and hand-packed all BY MYSELF. And it only took me all of 6 hours. Now, how awesome am I?

Also as promised, here are some pics of the Q10 mask from Japan that came yesterday. Like I mentioned previously, every word is in Japanese so if any of you posses some kick-ass Japanese reading skillz, what are you waiting for??

Front of box. Back of Box



And finally, the hydro-gel mask itself


Now, you're probably thinking, what the heck is the bottle of Choya doing here? Is she drinking at 11 in the morning, right after all that baking and with the mask on??

See, this is why I love you all. YOU just know me so well! Yes, that is exactly what I'm doing right now. Swigging away from a glass of plum alcoholic drink WHILE testing out the mask. Rather befitting, wouldn't you say?

And don't you forget that I'm doing this for YOUR sake.

The mask is now ready for ordering.

Unlike the Lifecella mask that you can find in Watsons and Guardian, this one is special because not only does it contain Co-Enzyme Q10 to erase those pesky lines, there are also 7 different fruit and herb extracts within to gently lighten and brighten the skin. I'll be posting the full ingredient list once I get the English translation from the supplier.

Have a fabulous Sunday y'all!

What? Just coz I watch Spongebob and eat Nutella out of the jar??

You Act Like You Are 14 Years Old

You are a teenager at heart. You don't quite feel like a grown up yet, but you don't feel like a kid. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. You're quite rebellious, and you don't like being told what to do. You like to do things your way. You have your own unique style, taste in music, and outlook on life.

What Age Do You Act?

Because I was bored

Do you Match Me?

Take My MatchMe Test

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Dudes!!! Like seriously, what are you waiting FOR?

Get thy masks now before they're all gone. Why do I feel like a nagging mother? Why must you make me into something that I'm NOT and never want to be? What have I ever done to you that you must provoke me to such an extent?

In other news, MORE masks arrived from Taiwan today! This is the Denjelly transparent mask with Niacinimide, TRANEXAMIC ACID (gosh if you don't know how awesome this ingredient is for suppressing melanin production, where have YOU been all this while??), alpha-arbutin, lactobiotic-acid and kojic acid. The combination of these skin-lightening ingredients make this one totally kick-ass mask for ultra-brightening and restoring the skin's radiance. I've placed a small order for this mask but it probably won't come in until after CNY. In the meantime, let the placenta mask work it's magic, you'll be amazed by it's skin-smoothening properties.

Oi, no need to dredge up the fact that the pic sucks alright?? We've already established the reason WHY. Geez.


The nice shiny gold one is my precious placenta mask and the rest are the rest of the new masks that came today in a big-ass box from Taiwan. I'll be reviewing them over the next few weeks, maybe even after CNY as I won't be around from the 29th til the 6th so if want to do any mask ordering and get it before the 29th, ahem, not to be repetitive or NAGGY or anything, order NOW. :P

I'm going to be needing some xanax just to calm down now. And you know how much I HATE that shite. Especially after HL's tragedy.

Sigh.

P/S For the life of me, I cannot get wordpress to work for me as effortlessly as I can blogger. Do I lack the necessary quota of brain cells for that? Or has blogger spoiled me?

My latest Aquisitions

So, those of you who know me, know that I mostly scorn counter brands (la mer being the one exception) because I've worked for EL (whom I despise passionately, hey, I was a la mer fan way before they even bought the brand yo)and know how crappy most of their products really are. Don't forget that we staff get to try all the latest *releases* first, so I SHOULD know.

However, in the past couple of years, I've been rather enamoured of certain Dior products (this doesn't mean that I don't stand by the fact that almost all counter brands are rubbish) and I only discovered them because a good friend who used to work with me in La Prairie hopped over to join them and frequently managed to score massive amounts of samples for me. (Thank you C for knowing just exactly the type of products I lust after! You da girl!)

These are their star products, which I've personally tried and tested (the rest are all junk though, sorry C, just keeping it real).

Yes I do so adore their Capture Totale range. Leaves skin velvety soft and pores almost invisible. Pity they're that pricey though. If not for the awesomeness of staff discount, I'd never be able to justify their crazy prices, even if they do make my skin oh-so-pretty.





I'm sorry for the crappily taken pics but like I mentioned before, until I'm actually making REAL money, I can only rely on my N73 for now. So yea, I just received this bounty which includes the all-new Capture R60/80 XP serum, a sample of the eye cream and night cream. (Once again, thanks C!) I've been using this range on and off again for the past few years and am just delighted with the texture of the serum (the star product), how this revamped version, apparently based on the technology of *stem cells* (what a buzz phrase these days) will stack up against the old one, only time will tell since I haven't even opened the wrapper yet which is SO unlike me.

But all the mask testing that I've had to do (for YOU, just in case you forget) in the past week is just killing me (something that I never imagined myself ever saying or even thinking) and have left me with little time to do naught else, with the exclusion of couch-potato-ing of course. Nothing can come between me and my TV. And don't you dare think otherwise.

In other news, I think I'll be moving most of the masks posts over to Wordpress , (seriously though, what's the hoopla all about WP anyway? If YOU know, tell me now) just because I CAN. Nah, it's only coz the boss of me says I should. That nobody wants to read my inane mutterings on other stuff. I am truly hurt. Is this how you folks really feel? But because she is mostly right, for the nth time, I shall listen to her.

And so, her will is done.

I am stunned, outraged and beyond saddened

Oh beautiful one, why why why WHY WHY!??

I first fell in love with you in 10 Things I hate about you and you had me again in Brokeback Mountain with your sensitive, tormented portrayal.

May you rest in peace.

I can never mourn for the loss of you and your brilliance and your beauty enough.

wtf?!

Your Score: Mystery

20 vanity

Congratulations!!! You are the ULTIMATE in fear! Nobody's ever seen you, but they all know you exist. Theress many a myth about you but nobody knows the truth for sure. Animals going crazy? Heres your culprit. I'd love to tell you more but I just don't know enough or even if you're real.

Link: The Vampire or Demon Test written by moonlit_feline on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test View My Profile(moonlit_feline)

apparently I had nothing better to do tonight at 4.46AM

Which leads to this tomfoolery.

Your Score: Druid

You scored 4 Combat, 5 Social, 4 Strategy and 7 Magic!

Indirect combat, Loner, Subtle, Magic. You're the Druid. A loner that communes with nature, drawing on natural magic to get the job done indirectly. No swords for you. You'd prefer to remain alone and at piece than be in a group, after all you can be quite stealthy with natural camouflage when need be.

Link: The Actually Good D&D Class Test written by PuebloZ on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test View My Profile(PuebloZ)

The Fresh Prince of Bel-aire is now Legend

From this Will Smith has now morphed into sleek, suave and uber-cool THIS.

Who would have thunk? I mean seriously? That lil rapper-boy who goofs off at every given opportunity and is a pain in Carlton's oh-so-pristine butt goes off to do movies like The Pursuit of Happyness, I.Robot and now I am Legend, all pretty serious and sombre shit if you ask me.

However. It only goes to show that I've always had an eye for talent. I knew he would make it big when I first spotted him on Fresh Prince, much to the derision of the people around me who couldn't see the diamond in the rough that was Will Smith.

So who's having the last laugh now? And all the way to the bank too. NO. Not me, silly. It's Bad Boy, Hitch of course. And more power to him I say. For being able to rise up from where he came from to what he is today.

Will Smith, you're the man and massive props and love to you.

And yes, I just had to say this because I finished watching Legend like 2.6mins ago. (Well before that I was watching Less than Zero, starring my darling, brilliant yet tormented Robert Downey Jr


and the presently-MIA Andrew McCarthy
and I so wished I hadn't watched it coz it's such a painful reflection of what RD's real life must have been like. Sniff. But thank God, right after that another kick-ass episode of Alan Shore and Denny Crane insanity and out-of-this world wit managed to lift some of the melancholy and well since I have NOTHING to hide from y'all, a double-shot of whiskey as well) You're wondering how I managed to get any work done if I'm on my butt all day in front of the TV right? Well, I don't. Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT follow in footsteps, unless you too wish to live an impoverished, wasted life of a chronic insomniac.
You have been warned.

Am I going to spoil it for you slowpokes who are too cheap to buy a ticket and yet know not the meaning and beauty of torrents? I may be evil, but I'm no meanie.

I did mourn his unnecessary sacrifice at the end though.

Oops. =P

Say NO to Pills

Once again let me proclaim to the world: Pharmaceutical sleeping aids are BAD for you. Unless you really have no choice, please please PLEASE do yourself a favour and avoid them like the plague! Despite what Pfizer and Roche say and we both know how they are trying to dominate the world market of sleeping pills and other shitty stuff, sleeping pills like xanax, stillnox (ambien), rohypnol and any of the benzo-diazepams do not actually give you REAL sleep. They just knock you out for X number of hours and you're actually in a comatose-state until you wake up and you will never feel refreshed like how you'd feel when you sleep WITHOUT pills like a normal human being.

You wake up feeling disorientated and most of the time unable to function for the next 2 hours without consuming huge amounts of caffein and H2O.

In other news, please order your masks now as the CNY special ends tonight. =p

Oh and a new Hydro-gel mask from Japan will be arriving probably next week. You know how I've been testing out a few (understatement here but whatever) masks over the past few weeks and have more or less come to a definite decision on which ones to buy. There's a Vitamin C transparent mask with Tranexamic Acid (boo to you Shiseido, now we don't have to fly all the way to Japan just to get their *special* Tranexamic Acid essence that cost a billion bucks a tube) from Taiwan that I've got my eye on and remember the Bio-cellulose mask that I've been raving about? Well I think I'm quite in love with that as well and I haven't seen anything like it in Singapore as yet so I want that too. Damnit, why do I not have more dosh. There mininum order quantity is high and I'm unable to meet them right now so that will have to wait another month or so.

I'll put pics up once the Japanese Hydro-gel masks arrive.

Now, off to try to gather funds....how, I really don't know. =p

I'm officially infactuated with this man (I claimed him first, ages ago, yes really)

Russell Peters (Full)

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There have been disturbing complaints and murmurs that I write way too damn much and way too damn long. I am seriously perturbed, not to mention achingly distressed.

Let me make ONE thing clear. This is something that I have NO control over. NONE. WHATSOEVER. Believe you me when I say that I wish I knew how to cut to the chase, be brief, concise, succint, un-long-winded, non-bush-beating but you see??? See what's happening here? Even while trying to correct something I know is a bloody annoying habit, I'm still DOING it. And it hurts me when you think that it's something I choose to do on purpose.

Just so you know that I truly care for you I'll shut up for a good 45 mins while you folks enjoy RP, one of the funniest comedians ever. Don't forget to put on your masks girls!

in which we learn whiskey is king

There are some things I can't explain. This is one of them. This urge to unburden myself to you. YOU, whom I neither know nor am likely to meet in the foreseeable future. If after reading this, you decide never to step virtual foot in here again you can trust me not to hold it against you. I am nothing, if not understanding.

So.

I am a geek.

I am completely, hopelessly and unmitigatingly geeky. Here are a few reasons why I will never be part of the hip Lychee Martini-sipping crowd and why you won't be inviting me to one of your so-cool-it-aches parties anytime soon. And I really don't mind if you cringe in distaste or pass snide remarks, but I implore you to do so in the privacy of your own mind, where similar ones like me, are not lurking around (you never know with these geeky ones) to witness and thus be emotionally and mentally scarred for life by YOUR insensitivity. You may however, tramp on me, grab me by the scruff of my neck, spit in my face and tell me to fcuk off because I am a blight on society. I will accept. Because I believe in offering the other cheek. M'kay, you can stop gaping now. I'm talking about facial cheeks, yo. Tsk..tsk.

In point form, for the sake of brevity, which, you know by now I totally rock at.

Fun Fact #1
------------
My Windows Update is set to run TWICE daily. I know, right? I actually CARE about my computer being up to date on the latest software changes and protection against new viruses. To YOU that may seem like paranoia, to me it's simply erring on the site of caution. Like for example, did you know that there is a rampant bug circulating around in Blogsville that is capable of deleting every blog post you've ever written? EVEN the archived ones. But I am vigilant. I am well-prepared. And protected to the nth degree so if it ever does come, all my 3484 anti-virus programmes will automatically engage, and start kicking it's dastardly ass.

Fun Fact #2
------------
I don't watch television. The couch hasn't felt the warmth of my butt in almost a year. Now, ya'll know that I am quite the TV addict so how, you wonder did I manage to wean myself off this crack? I didn't. In fact if I was spending 4 hours a day on tv shows, that time is now doubled. Bit torrent my friends, is the best thing since the almost bug-free xp. (it's quest for world domination notwithstanding. Recently realised that I *couldn't* no matter how hard I tried, uninstall MSN nor remove it from the list of programmes. It was not for want of trying but more a matter of not being able to FIND it. Anywhere. Very very sneaky these MS people.) With the advent of torrents, I get ALL my tv shows nicely downloaded in a matter of hours after they're released. And the one thing that makes me want to shout it from the rooftop? THAT I won't have to wait 3 WHOLE months for it to arrive on our shores which I had to before torrents, since I don't live anywhere near the North American terrain but on some backwater, godforsaken tiny-ass island. AND the newest Korean dramas which my mom is a rabid fan of. Oh darling torrents, what would my life be without thee?

Fun Fact #3
------------
I am more likely to be thrilled and driven to the knees by this then say this. Those of you who fear for the safety of my soles, rest assured that I do not walk around barefooted. I am a geek, not a neanderthal.

Fun Fact #4
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During airport security checks, guards have to forcibly sedate me before I surrender (even then, they have to pry it from a death-grip) my Nokia N73, which let me impress upon you, is not merely a phone. That would be tantamount to saying that whiskey is only an alcoholic beverage, and we all know, that is a lie created by drinkers of the vile spirit, GIN. We being more evolved, recognise whiskey for the heavenly nectar it is and acknowledge that it's the ONLY thing worth poisoning our livers with. In the same light should you view My Precious, for it takes pictures of such awesome clarity, such rich colours that it begs the question...Surely this is a digital camera and not a phone? Oh! Oh! and still it does more, this phone that never stops giving. It stores videos(mpeg4) and songs, it FILMS, it employs one of the most sophisticated platforms for phones, it acts as my watch and alarm (without which I'd be an extra 17 mins late on top of the regular 24) and it tells me that today is Saturday 29th Sept which I wouldn't have known otherwise! So NOW do you see why? Of course you do, my whiskey-swigging, beautiful people.

Fun Fact #5
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When Brad Pitt was hailed as the sexiest man alive back in his day, I was aghast and couldn't fathom the logic or lackthereof. Because really, WHAT did he have on Jon Stewart, my shining beacon of all that is hot and holy, the very epitome of peerless wit and possesor of beautiful, perfect brain cells. Must it really take a geek to see the wrongness of this?!

Fun Fact #6
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I went into panic-induced spasm the last time a technician at the computer lab where I'd sent my CPU for diagnosis (it had mysteriously refused to start despite every effort of mine; always a bad sign) told me that my HD has lived out it's Seagate-intended lifespan (essentially, I'm screwed) and almost 40% of data can NEVER be recovered again. Ever. I wept long and hard. I accused said technician of hard disk murder and heaped curses upon his obviously incompetent brain and maybe even at one point questioned the legitimacy of his birth. I prayed fervently that in old age, he be stricken with advanced dementia and ergo, forced to live out the rest of his miserable days having no control over his bladder or any other bodily function. Now, I am not the best person to rely on for an accurate account of the day's events as I had sought solace in the warmth of Sir Beam and perhaps also Sir Walker (I cannot vouch for this) soon after and passed out, being very much soothed and coddled. Presently, I am still being treated for post-trautmatic stress disorder, never having gotten over the loss of almost 40% of data which really translates into the loss of almost 40% of MY LIFE. And that is how, life as I knew it, will never be the same again.

Fun Fact #7
--------------
I am obsessed with ingredient lists, namely food and skin care ones. I can spend hours reading up on ingredients that I happen to come across earlier in the day just to know what they do and how they do the things they do. Oh and of course proof that it's been clinically tested in at least a couple of peer-reviewed studies. A little tidbit, FDA-approved doesn't mean jack so do your own research. I am by now so well-versed in most skin/hair care ingredients that I can peruse a product's list and immediately identify a crap ingredient that's plain filler and a useful one that will actually do something. It's also easy to tell if the product is going to live up to it's ridiculous claims, which 99.65% of the time it doesn't. My current fascination is amino peptides and I have spent the last 2 weekends, comfortably ensconced in front of the computer reading endlessly, suffused in a glow of weird happiness despite the lashings of scorn from those who feel that weekends should be spent getting wasted in a pub with a bunch of insufferable swines. Because really, I am just that much happier getting pissed drunk in the company of my notebook with it's ever-giving source of entertainment and that will NEVER mock me with unconstructive words like "Boy, You sure suck at this!!" or "Woooo! I just kicked your ass again! Who's your daddy now?!",even if I lose every backgammon game I wage against it. I also have access to clean toilets, 247 cable channels if I so wish and the bed, THE BED is JUST there. For when you're like, comatose, you know, the state which usually follows that perfect state of drunkardness? Geez, I'm starting to suspect that none of you have ever gotten properly drunk, then passed out, before. Seriously, do you honestly want to wait for a cab when you can barely walk and can't remember where you live? Isn't it nice for once to pass out on your own bed? Think about it.

So, in baring my soul, I hope that I and you (come on, really. You know This was about me. Thus I come before you) will come to understand myself and my neuroses a little better. Oh stop judging me. What? Like you are SO pristine perfect and I'm the only perpetually-intoxicated, abuse-hurling neurotic nerd you've ever met? Chyeah. BUT the point is, what have we learnt from my soul-baring endeavour?

Uhm yes, APART from the fact that booze is always useful in any situation. Let's focus, people!

We have learnt:

1) That geeks are not the stinky pariahs of society you think they are and can often turn out to be one of your everyday, average person. Like me. Who is most definitely not stinky and who in fact favours L'Artisan Parfumeur The Pour un Ete if you must know.

2) You will never need extra shoe closet or space for your geek. Like EVER. You will NEVER have to go shoe shopping or learn the intricate difference between a Manolo Blahnik and a Jimmy Choo. An external, 1 terabyte HD will do, thank you very much.

MOST importantly, beautiful ones, we learn (for the uninitiated) and we re-affirm (as the connoisseur) that:

3) Whiskey is a God-sent. (like you people will let me forget)

And verily I say unto you, go forth and spread the word and 'lo you shalt be richly blessed.

P.S I am still human after all and not infallible. There are times when I am susceptible to some very human and very non-geek cravings. Like pan-seared kobe beef, huge chunks of gouda cheese, Wentworth Miller, infinite supply of creme de la mer everything and Royce chocolate delivered to me. Every day. For the rest of my life.

It's that time of the Year again

Apparently I have reached the age where all concerned parties in my life (aka overly-caring relatives who are the reasons you avoid family gatherings) now feel, it's perfectly okay to question the sad state of my singlehood and the life-threatening perils of it. Like I actively CHOOSE to be single or something. Yes, Auntie j, I know if I don't settle for someone, anyone right now, I'll be left on the shelf like the sad, forgotten can of preserved Longans, coz people buy their fruits fresh from the market now, and I will be miserable and crotchety for the rest of my sad, sad life.

Of course I DON'T want to die without first experiencing the exquisite joy of motherhood, Auntie b nor the personal sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that can only be achieved through natural childbirth without the aid of hardcore drugs like the epidural. And so the unsolicited advice and questions came, from all corners, faster than I could dodge and duck, faster and more furious with each family get-together.

You're probably thinking that I'm being an ungrateful wretch for not appreciating their obvious care and concern. Well, I will have you know that I love my aunts to death but sometimes their unconscious cruelty can make even the most stoic of men cry. And this is the point I was getting to, IF you'd waited. See, if you hadn't jumped to the silly conclusion that it was another whine about naggy relatives, you wouldn't have to feel bad and sheepish now, would you?

My darling aunts reduced me to a quivering, blubbering lump of mush. Not saying that I can't easily accomplish that myself being the consummate crybaby that I am. BUT this was over something that has NEVER affected me before or thought would EVER affect me. So you can imagine what a pitiful state I was in. A baffled, horrified, very, very sad mess that's what.

So there I was, despite a mounting headache from the gaggle of screaming kids and babies, trying to remain placidly indifferent while my very pregnant cousin basked in the cooing and ahhing of our aunts and uncles who couldn't stop patting her ginormous tummy, when suddenly I heard my name.

Aunt C: Oi, Daphne, so when's your turn ah?

Me: (suddenly realising that there was more coke than whiskey in my W&C but knew this was not the time to bemoan a poorly mixed drink. I had to organize my thoughts and come up with a kick-ass retort) "Huh? My turn to what?", sputtered the lush that I am, so eloquently.

Aunt b: What happened to [name of any random ex]? I thought you were serious about him? Aiyoh, don't tell me you chased another one away again?* Look at Gina here, younger than you and already with her second child. What are you waiting for? You know the older you get, the harder it is for you to conceive and even if you manage by some miracle do, the baby can turn out spastic (yes she really said that, she's not very PC, so please excuse her) you know? Mongolian baby....aiyoh, very hard to take care of and next time you grow old already, what will happen to her? Not say I want to scare you or what. Just worried only. And also the birth itself will be very, very painful, more painful as you grow older, you know right?
(Uh, like I need further convincing about the fcuking PAIN, but thanks Aunt b!)

Me (diverting the issue as only the expert that I am can): Hahahhaha. No, god, no, uh, it was never serious and he drank too much anyway. Gets drunk every night. In fact, fella starts his breakfast with Guinness! (Note how I masterfully draw suspicion away from my own drinking habits).

Aunt J: (butting in as she's wont to do) Wah, stop being so fussy. Dunno why you all girls these days have such high standards. So fussy. Back in our time, if you meet a man with a good job and willing to eat your cooking, you just grab already. Whether he's got a hairy wart the size of a $0.20 or enjoys farting challenges with his kakis, aiyoh, all that not important and also, if there's no love at first, it's okay, love will grow. Trust me, auntie went through alot of experience, I won't teach you wrong one. Really. Better find one quick and get married. You're not getting any younger you know. (Hey, thanks for reminding me! For a moment there, I thought I was still 18. Pfft) You want to end up a spinster like Auntie Xiu Yan, is it? So sad that Xiu Yan...so poorthing....no husband, no children...wah, really sad...

All I could hear and feel was the weight of that dam.n word. Sad SAD SAD SAD SAD.

At this point, I could feel my headache turning into one of my monstrous, full-blown migraines and horrors of horrors, something resembling tears at the back of my throat. Something confusing and frightening came over me.I swear, I have NEVER, ever in my life felt that being alone, even if forever, was something to grieve over. So what the fcuk was this?

I chirpily announced that my bladder was bursting and fled to my room.

I was terrified not just coz I might start bawling in front of an already very concerned horde of relatives but also at my new-found tender feelings. I needed time alone to figure out what they represented.

I've always had a rather laissez-faire, devil-may-care attitude towards marriage (that is not to say I take relationships lightly, quite the opposite), maybe because the whole idea of marriage just scares the shite out of me, (with all the frightful responsibilites and grown-upness AND housework that it entails) so, feeling anything different is extremely alarming. I never felt likeI was prepared to be a wife yet.

And I definitely wouldn't make a good wife. A very ill-equipped one at best. And what use is a wife like that, I thought and still think.

A few pertinent Reasons Why I would make a sucky Wife:

-I have never cooked an entire meal without some outside help (usually the bf) in my life. And I highly doubt that ordering KFC and then arranging everything out on nice dinnerware counts, even if I did handle the whole affair on my own.

-I have never spring cleaned my room without some outside help (usually the bf) before. I can't change the bedsheet on my own coz the mattress is too dam.n heavy. What about the long periods of time when I didn't have anyone, you ask? Like now, perhaps? Oh, don't be silly. My dad helps me of course. Duh.

-I don't know how to use a washing machine. Uhm...what?

-I don't know how to mend socks or stitch a button on. Yes, I happen to still adhere to old-fashioned notions of sock-mending and button-sewing. Waste not, want not. BUT, having beliefs and having skills are totally unrelated, hello???

I could go on but I don't see how talking at length about my obvious flaws and lack of wifely potential is going to benefit any of us.

The issue at hand is not whether I'll make a good wife, but the revelation that feelings, annoying feelings of panic and despondency actually exist in me. And no, I don't know where they're coming from. Pay attention, people. The crux of the matter is that they are sprouting in me. In me!! The same me who eats cereal out of the box for dinner coz my mom's too busy to cook, the same me whose idea of doing laundry is to load, add 2 heaped spoons of soap powder and wait for someone to start it up, the same me who's never had a checking account or owned credit cards (dad's card doesn't count right?), the same me who'd rather spend all day in bed with a book then go to Ikea (which all girls seem to like ALOT) or the Home & Decor Exhibition that is always right next to the Beautiful Brides Expo that all my girlfriends LOVE traipsing down to, with bfs/fiances/hubbies in tow.

The me who has always eschewed the idea of marriage and babies (eek!) and housework, suddenly experiencing burgeoning feelings of....what? Wanting to settle down? Or wanting, no, needing a love that is so real, so complete, so all-consuming that creating a family together is but a by-product and not an end result; that the alternative to NOT being together would mean the end of life itself?

[Pregnant pause]**

What? You think I don't know what you're thinking? Nothing good for sure, knowing you lot. And anyway, I never expect anything optimistic to come out of a pregnant pause.

Eww.....enough already with all this sickeningly mushy talk, I hear you say. I KNOW. You think I'm not creeped out as well? You think I enjoy being all melancholic and sad and that those poignant strains of Barber's Adagio For Strings floating around me are playing of my own accord? Believe me when I say that I am mortified and beside myself.

In my defense, let me say that loneliness is an insidious bastid that creeps up when you're not bloody looking, so it's not like I intended to go on the way I did, OKAY? And y'all know too that my mind is only capable of non-sequiters and disjointed digressions so I don't see what you're all grumbling about really. You didn't step into this with your eyes closed, you knew it was going to morph into a long-ass and possibly simpering post, so shut up and help me out here, will you? I NEED foolproof solutions to banish these non-me feelings and if you've been through this before and have successfully eradicated such feelings, through some means or another and am now back to your former blissful self, then what the heck are you waiting FOR??

I'm counting on you. Please don't let me down, not in my most dire time of need.

P.S Suggestions of alcohol-usage/abuse are redundant. Because obviously I turned to booze before I looked to you for help.

Footnote
*(My aunts love to joke ALL the freakin' time about how I manage to *chase away* all the guys in my life. Like there is no such thing as a mutual break-up or that they could have chased me away instead? You know, because of their asinine assness? Or that love sometimes becomes just a shadow of what it used to be, but I don't want to think about that right now coz my eyes are fresh out of tears)

**(which I feel is the yuckiest pause of all; it just brings to mind all kinds of vile god-knows-what breeding inside)

a meme and then some

So, just to prove what a sloth I am, instead of the usual post, I'm just going to use this meme that I was tagged with. However, I won't be tagging anyone coz I know not everyone is as shameless as I am when it comes to sharing boring, inconsequential details about oneself. In trying to be as honest as I can, a total of three and a half brain cells were brutally mangled while tussling with Conscience.

1. Were you named after anyone?
I'm pretty positive that I'm not the first Daphne ever, so YES.

2. When was the last time you cried?
About 5 minutes ago. Yea, I can cry you a river. What's your point?

3. Would you say that you have great handwriting?
Well,if you're into the sort of elegant, cursive penmanship that elicits gasps of pleasure from anyone who sees it, if you're into that sort of thing, then I suppose it's passable.

4. What is your favourite lunch meat?
Roast Beef.

5. Do you have kids?
Are you for real?? I can barely take care of myself, so no.

6. If you were another person, would you be friends with yourself?
Definitely! I'm so awesome on so many levels that I wouldn't be able to resist me.

7. Do you use sarcasm alot?
Define sarcasm.

8. Do you still have your tonsils?
The thing at the back of your throat right? Yea.

9. Would you bungee jump?
hell, no!

10. What is your favourite cereal?
I LOVE cereal and could eat them all day! So any cereal that's not sweet and with lots of oats in it is bound to make me happy. I'm not fussy, like I said, I adore this shite. But if I really had to choose then I'd go for Dorset Organic Cranberry and Oats. Too poor to afford them right now.

11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
I make it a point never to buy shoes with laces.

12. Do you think you're strong?
Are we talking about emotional or physical strength here? In either case, I'm about as strong as a Costa Rican Fairyfly.

13. What is your favourite ice-cream?
Chubby Hubby coz I'm addicted to peanut butter.

14. What is the first thing you notice about people?
If they're breathing or not. I have an irrational fear of zombies and the living dead.

15. Red or Pink?
Pink of course. I'm a totally girly girl. And no, swearing doesn't count.

16. What is the least favourite thing about yourself?
That I don't look anything like how a Native English Speaker is *supposed* to look like and thus hamper my dream of becoming a TEFL teacher in Siam. It's the genes, I'm telling you!

17. Who do you miss the most?
She is not a person but a place. A very special place that for reasons unknown, has plundered the depths of my soul. I don't think I've ever yearned like this before.

18. Who's your favourite person in the world?
Besides myself you mean? Okay, my baby sister then.

19. What colour pants and shoes are you wearing?
I'm in my PJs.

20. What was the last thing you ate?
Peanut butter out of the jar. What?

21. What are you listening to right now?
I have various Thai artistes on loop, (Modern Dog, Boyd, Silly Fools, Potato, Peacemaker) which I mostly don't understand but in a bid to torture myself even more and deepen the seperation pain, I press on. So what if my eyes are wrung dry? Let's get some perspective here; it's only water+salt. =p

22. If you where a crayon, what colour would you be?
Uhm, all I did was copy and paste, but live and let live I say. So what if "where a crayon" doesn't make sense? Stop being so judgy. More to the point, who thinks up such questions anyway??! Because, seriously, a CRAYON?! Fine. If I were to someday, somehow, for whatever reason, be a damn crayon, I'd be a shimmering, gossamer pink. Doesn't that sound pretty? I almost want to be a crayon now.

23. Favourite smells?
Rainstorms, just-baked bread, peppermint, fresh laundry, wintergreen and pine, my mom's TDF kueh lapis and pineapple tarts, the pages of a new hardcover book, the person I'm in love with.

24. Who was the last person you talked to?
No one. Nobody ever calls me.

25. Have you been lonely before?
See above.

26. Favourite Sports to watch?
Football, but only when the scousers play.

27. Hair Colour?
Dark brown. Very blah.

28. Eye Colour?
Black-brown. Very blah.

29. Do you wear contacts?
Nope. Lasik donations are always welcomed. But to further dispel all doubts regarding my geekiness, I will have you know that I'm NEVER without my glasses. For the doubting Thomases amongst us who require visual proof., I can only say: you my friend, have trust issues.

30. Favourite Food?
Chocolate.

31. Scary movies or happy endings?
A happy movie with a scary ending.

32. Last movie you watched?
Rainman for the nth time.

33. What colour shirt are you wearing?
Colour of pj's top = PINK

34. Summer or Winter?
Winter, though God knows we never get it here in Southeast Asia.

35. Hugs or Kisses?
Hugs. Cuddles too. ^_~

36. Favourite Dessert?
Not to be repetitive or anything but chocolate.

37. The three people you will tell all your secrets to?
1)Me
2)Myself
and
3)I

38. Do you trust easily?
Am I not putting myself out there right now??

39. What book are you reading right now?
Dean Koonzt - The Husband and re-reading Odd Thomas

40. What is on your mouse pad?
Mouse what? Uhm...whazzat?? Oh you mean that thing people use to move their mouse around back in the day when the Atari was hailed as the be all and end all of video gaming consoles? I may have a vague recollection of some squarish thingy on the desk but it's been so long and having used an optical mouse for as long as I can remember, I can't confirm if it was ever real or merely a mythical object cooked up by the same fellas who thought that all my base are belong to them. =p

41. What did you watch on TV last night?
I don't watch TV but the last show that I watched, Criminal Minds, although darker and grimmer than ever, kicked every kind of ass.

42. Favourite sound?
My parents' laughter.

43. Rolling Stones or The Beatles?
Neither. Excuse me, but you don't see me dissing your taste in music, do you?

44. What is the farthest you've been from home?
Gee, I'd be hard pressed to tell you the distance since I don't carry any sort of measuring instruments with me when I travel, but if we're talking about where, then NYC; the greatest city in the world. I would live/die there if I could.

45. Do you have a special talent?
I can bend my toes and fingers in a totally freaky way, really, you have to see it to believe.

46. Where were you born?
In a hospital. Or so I was told.

47.Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?
Damn if I know. Look, I don't even know what I'll be doing tomorrow.

48).What's your favourite song?
Do you seriously expect me to answer this? Can *you* pick just ONE favourite song? I thought so.

49)Love or Money?
Wait, how much cash are we talking about here? If it's Bill Gates-esque kind of money, then I'd totally pick money which I will use to buy Apple.Inc and have fun with all the G4s I could want for the rest of my life. Listen, loving someone, [so much that your breath catches in your throat each time you look at him, so much that your insides feel all squished and mashed up just thinking of him, so much that you'd give up your world as you know it just to be with him] who doesn't love you back, is the most debilitating, painful pain in the world. So yea, Microsoft gets my vote.

I hope you are all happy now. Now that you are intimately familiar with almost every minutae of my life. ONE of you better find this useful so that it wasn't entirely an effort in futility or a waste of 20 minutes of my life that I'll NEVER get back. The things I do for you.

Tag, you're it. =p

p/s Don't forget to stock up on the masks as they're running low and CNY being just round the corner, your skin totally deserves them!