Hedonistics Anonymous
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Hedo has thrown a sheep at HedoOn Facebook...
I drive a Pagani Zonda C12 which is the 'Supercar' range. Before that I was driving a new Ferrari 612.
I tote a Balenciaga Motorcycle bag. In my fab bag collection, I have Fendi, LV, Coach, Bottega, Versace, Burberry, Chloe and a few others that I would sell my soul a million times over just to own in real life.
I am a kickass Vampire Jedi, a Cyber Werewolf, an Undead Assassin and a Zombie Mogul.
I am the owner of a 10-day old male dragon.
I am the owner of a speedy little cow and fat baby penguin.
I have been tattooed and I'm soaking wet from the large amounts of water balloons thrown at me.
I discovered that I am classic romantic, a bad bad girl, a playful kisser and an experienced lover.
In bed, my favourite position is missionary and I can last 15-30 minutes.
I tote a Balenciaga Motorcycle bag. In my fab bag collection, I have Fendi, LV, Coach, Bottega, Versace, Burberry, Chloe and a few others that I would sell my soul a million times over just to own in real life.
I am a kickass Vampire Jedi, a Cyber Werewolf, an Undead Assassin and a Zombie Mogul.
I am the owner of a 10-day old male dragon.
I am the owner of a speedy little cow and fat baby penguin.
I have been tattooed and I'm soaking wet from the large amounts of water balloons thrown at me.
I discovered that I am classic romantic, a bad bad girl, a playful kisser and an experienced lover.
In bed, my favourite position is missionary and I can last 15-30 minutes.
I think I want to trade places with my Facebook profile. Just being able to own all those bags is enough to justify the switch.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Like go fuck yourself or somethingYesterday was a traumatic day on so many levels.
My mother insisted that pay for the hotel accommodations up front, which was pretty idiotic considering that my pay isn't out yet. Then my father insisted I cough up more cash because last week he got my car battery replaced. And to top everything off, my sister accidentally reversed into my car and made a huge fucking dent in it.
At that point, I just wanted to go mad and get admitted into some mental hospital, JUST SO THAT SOMEBODY ELSE WILL DEAL WITH ALL THE SHITTINESS GOING ON IN MY LIFE.
I swear, for 20 whole minutes, I was reduced to a near-vegetable state. My mind automatically shut down, I was bawling my eyes out and thank goodness I couldn't find my anti-depressants or else I would've downed the entire blister strip.
My sister outrightly denied that she dented my car. But I am the older sister and therefore I shall always be the cleverer one... *cue evil laughter with thunder and lightning flashing in the background*.
Anyway, I hunted for her car in the college carpark and lo and behold, just above the passenger's side rear bumper, were scratches and two streaks of white paint. And this is where my cleverness came in: I TOOK PHOTOS OF THE PAINT STREAKS.
Because by the time I got home, she was home already and the paint streaks were gone. The I-have-washed-away-all-traces-of-evidence-so-you-can't-accuse-me-haha kind of gone. But I didn't care. I confronted her, raised my voice a little, flashed all the incriminating evidence in her face, stared her down, and finally she SORT OF admitted that while reversing, she did feel as if she ran over stone or something.
Whatever, I'm soooooo not footing the bill okay.
My father, who initially didn't want to take sides because it's MY car so it's only right that I deal with MY car problems all by MYSELF, finally offered to call up his mechanic friend to see if he can slot my car in before we leave on holiday. I think he's only doing that because his precious younger daughter is footing the bill, so maybe some divine daddy intervention would help lower the amount she has to pay.
Whatever.
Whatever.
Whatever.
I hate my life.
My mother insisted that pay for the hotel accommodations up front, which was pretty idiotic considering that my pay isn't out yet. Then my father insisted I cough up more cash because last week he got my car battery replaced. And to top everything off, my sister accidentally reversed into my car and made a huge fucking dent in it.
At that point, I just wanted to go mad and get admitted into some mental hospital, JUST SO THAT SOMEBODY ELSE WILL DEAL WITH ALL THE SHITTINESS GOING ON IN MY LIFE.
I swear, for 20 whole minutes, I was reduced to a near-vegetable state. My mind automatically shut down, I was bawling my eyes out and thank goodness I couldn't find my anti-depressants or else I would've downed the entire blister strip.
My sister outrightly denied that she dented my car. But I am the older sister and therefore I shall always be the cleverer one... *cue evil laughter with thunder and lightning flashing in the background*.
Anyway, I hunted for her car in the college carpark and lo and behold, just above the passenger's side rear bumper, were scratches and two streaks of white paint. And this is where my cleverness came in: I TOOK PHOTOS OF THE PAINT STREAKS.
Because by the time I got home, she was home already and the paint streaks were gone. The I-have-washed-away-all-traces-of-evidence-so-you-can't-accuse-me-haha kind of gone. But I didn't care. I confronted her, raised my voice a little, flashed all the incriminating evidence in her face, stared her down, and finally she SORT OF admitted that while reversing, she did feel as if she ran over stone or something.
Whatever, I'm soooooo not footing the bill okay.
My father, who initially didn't want to take sides because it's MY car so it's only right that I deal with MY car problems all by MYSELF, finally offered to call up his mechanic friend to see if he can slot my car in before we leave on holiday. I think he's only doing that because his precious younger daughter is footing the bill, so maybe some divine daddy intervention would help lower the amount she has to pay.
Whatever.
Whatever.
Whatever.
I hate my life.
Going away
I'll be out of town for the whole of next week. Going for a long-deserved holiday with the family. Unfortunately, this time my trip would only be partially sponsored by the parents, and my mother played dirty by telling me that I would have to pay for my own accommodations AFTER she booked the air tickets.
I think she knew that if she laid down the rules first, I would've opted not to go.
Bloody hell.
The only thing I'm truly looking forward to is the duty-free shops at the airport so that I can restock my ciggie supply.
I think she knew that if she laid down the rules first, I would've opted not to go.
Bloody hell.
The only thing I'm truly looking forward to is the duty-free shops at the airport so that I can restock my ciggie supply.
Monday, November 19, 2007
5 Questions I Absolutely Cannot Give Immediate Answer To1. Who is the Education/Transport/Defense/Finance/whatever Minister of Malaysia?
Anybody ranking below the Prime Minister doesn't warrant memory allocation in my brain. Except for Datuk Seri Samy Vellu, our belovedPublic Works Department Minister because he makes me laugh.
2. How many boyfriends have you had?
Anyone wanna make a guess? :)
3. How many guys have you kissed?
I don't want to attempt a tally in case I scare myself.
4. What did you do over the weekend?
My typical answer would be: I don't remember. Because I seriously don't. Unless it involves rare situations like sending my beloved hamster son to the vet or being treated to a nice (or expensive) dinner.
5. When a boyfriend asks, "Who's better/longer/can satisfy you more... me or your ex?"
This is The Ultimate Male Question, the one most females have trouble answering honestly without hurting their partners' feelings. Compare this to The Ultimate Female Question, which would be "Honey, does this dress make me look fat?"
Thursday, November 15, 2007
And all of you laughed when I baked for my hamsterThis is a long overdue post, but since sonny boy's fine and dandy again (his diarrhea has cleared up and he's finished his antibiotics course) I should tell you what his godmother did for him.
First, Miss Thongs gave me a small parcel wrapped in waxed paper and decorated with a tiny sprig of flowers.
First, Miss Thongs gave me a small parcel wrapped in waxed paper and decorated with a tiny sprig of flowers.
Which I unwrapped to reveal... a freshly baked cookie! When she heard that I brought the boy to the vet, she actually googled for a cookie recipe for hamsters.
This is the underside of the cookie. It doesn't contain sugar and milk, and instead of using berry-flavoured baby food, Miss Thongs threw in chopped sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, raisins and oats.
The boy loved it, except for the parts that contained raisins. He's not too fond of sticky food that will dirty his paws, which is also probably why he doesn't like bananas. Prunes, he'll eat in small amounts provided that I hold it for him. Same goes for tiny bits of cold oranges pulp. I know that it's not good to give hamsters too much citrus fruits, but I like the idea of giving my son a varied diet.
*Nibble nibble*
*Munch munch*(Notice the closed eyes... food bliss)
*Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy*Sonny boy, your eyes have completely disappeared... hahahahaha
Watch it boy, my fingers are not food.Miss Thongs, your self-appointed godson says thank you very much for the cookie. He's subtly requesting for chopped peanuts in the next batch to replace the raisins, and add more sunflower seeds.
I swear I did not teach him to be so thick-skinned.
I swear I did not teach him to be so thick-skinned.
Monday, November 12, 2007
*Takes a deep breath*
Life has been one big fuckin rollercoaster ride lately.
Sonny boy's lump turned out to be a huge abscess (like a boil), which he helpfully popped himself just before I brought him to the vet on Saturday. All in all, I paid RM15 for a tiny tube of liquid antibiotics and a syringe, with instructions to administer 0.2ml orally for the next 5 days.
Yay, I thought. Maybe I'm not such a bad mother after all.
And then just after lunch today, I received a call from my sister. In a panicky voice, she informed me that the boy was having diarrhea. He's lethargic. He's got one eye sealed shut. He does not want to eat anything except his dried mealworms.
The first thing that crossed my mind was "wet tail".
Hamsters die from wet tail. And they die fast and in a horrible manner.
Trusty Google told me that some hamsters do get diarrhea when they're given antibiotics. And I'm suppose to remove all fresh food and give him dried grains and brown toast to prevent more bowel upset. And if the symptoms do not clear up in a day or two, I'm suppose to bring him back to vet.
My initial feeling of anxiety has morphed into extremely pissed-ness. Why the fuck didn't the vet tell me the possible side-effects of antibiotics on hamsters? What if the vet miscalculated and 0.2ml of antibiotics is actually too much for a dwarf hamster weighing 40g? Why do I have to be faced with sooooo much shit in such a short time? Why me? Why my hamster? Why? Why? WHYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?!
Oh God, I'm so bloody stressed.
Over and out.
Life has been one big fuckin rollercoaster ride lately.
Sonny boy's lump turned out to be a huge abscess (like a boil), which he helpfully popped himself just before I brought him to the vet on Saturday. All in all, I paid RM15 for a tiny tube of liquid antibiotics and a syringe, with instructions to administer 0.2ml orally for the next 5 days.
Yay, I thought. Maybe I'm not such a bad mother after all.
And then just after lunch today, I received a call from my sister. In a panicky voice, she informed me that the boy was having diarrhea. He's lethargic. He's got one eye sealed shut. He does not want to eat anything except his dried mealworms.
The first thing that crossed my mind was "wet tail".
Hamsters die from wet tail. And they die fast and in a horrible manner.
Trusty Google told me that some hamsters do get diarrhea when they're given antibiotics. And I'm suppose to remove all fresh food and give him dried grains and brown toast to prevent more bowel upset. And if the symptoms do not clear up in a day or two, I'm suppose to bring him back to vet.
My initial feeling of anxiety has morphed into extremely pissed-ness. Why the fuck didn't the vet tell me the possible side-effects of antibiotics on hamsters? What if the vet miscalculated and 0.2ml of antibiotics is actually too much for a dwarf hamster weighing 40g? Why do I have to be faced with sooooo much shit in such a short time? Why me? Why my hamster? Why? Why? WHYYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?!
Oh God, I'm so bloody stressed.
Over and out.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Heartbroken
You captured my heart from the moment I saw you.
You were incredibly gorgeous, with your huge eyes and chubby adorable features.
And later I found out that you were incredibly intelligent too.
Now your days are numbered and I'm heartbroken.
Despite what people tell me, I'm holding out for a miracle.
I can't and don't want to let you go.
Please get well soon, sonny boy.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Let me SMS you about my dreamMe: B, I dreamt about you last night.
B: Oh, good dream?
Me: Well, I dreamt that there was this pai kia that wanted to kill me, and you fought him, but he was beating you up real bad and so I decided to help you and I managed to change the pai kia away.
B: Huh? *insert confused animation*
Me: Some bad guy wanted to kill me and you fought him.
B: Oh ok. *insert smiley face*
Me: But the bad guy was winning the fight, so I had to help you beat him up, and in the end I managed to disarm the bad guy and chase him away.
B: Then I die?
Me: Nolah, just on the floor. Nobody died.
B: Oh ok.
Actually I wanted to tell him that I managed to snatch the bad guy's knife and I was about to hurl it at him before he ran away, but it would be too much excitement for a Tuesday morning dream analysis.
Nolah, actually I was just too lazy to type everything out. Haha.
B: Oh, good dream?
Me: Well, I dreamt that there was this pai kia that wanted to kill me, and you fought him, but he was beating you up real bad and so I decided to help you and I managed to change the pai kia away.
B: Huh? *insert confused animation*
Me: Some bad guy wanted to kill me and you fought him.
B: Oh ok. *insert smiley face*
Me: But the bad guy was winning the fight, so I had to help you beat him up, and in the end I managed to disarm the bad guy and chase him away.
B: Then I die?
Me: Nolah, just on the floor. Nobody died.
B: Oh ok.
Actually I wanted to tell him that I managed to snatch the bad guy's knife and I was about to hurl it at him before he ran away, but it would be too much excitement for a Tuesday morning dream analysis.
Nolah, actually I was just too lazy to type everything out. Haha.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Secrets I helped all of you keepI know that when you were mad at me, you wrote a disgustingly trashy email about me and sent it to my best friend. What you didn't know was that my best friend forwarded it to me. Loyalties cannot be bought through trashy emails.
I know that you were fucking your wife the night you trampled on my heart.
I know that despite complaining that your ex-girlfriend is lousy in bed, you still love her and think about her, and I suspect that you always will. Good for you, buddy.
I know that you told your girlfriend you were at a friend's house working on a project the first time you cheated on her.
I know who you cheated on your girlfriend with.
I know who you cheated on your girlfriend with and until today when I think back about it, I go "Ewww... what were you thinking?"
I know that I entered into relationship with you fully knowing that there was no happy ending. It's something I really regretted, and if we ever do meet again, I'll probably wouldn't acknowledge you, but I just want to you know that I'm truly sorry for what I did.
I know that you can be a real manipulative bastard and sometimes it fuckin gets on my nerves, but you're still my friend because, I don't know, maybe we need a few bastards in our life to make it interesting.
I know that you got with me just to make her jealous.
I know that you beat her with a metal rod and gave her all those nasty bruises. At that time, I was like, "What the hell were you thinking, you asshole?" But now I don't really care if both of you end up killing each other because you both are equal assholes.
I know why you ended the relationship. Can't say I blame you for it.
I know that you had less-than-innocent intentions the night you asked me to join you for drinks in your hotel room. But I didn't fancy you enough to take up the offer, and now that you have a lovely wife (I'm not being sarcastic here, she's really lovely) and an adorable baby, aren't you glad that I was a hell lot more sensible than you? :)
I know that you tell mountains of lies and we could build a castles from the amount of bullshit spewing from your mouth, but it's funny in a weird and irritating kind of way.
I know that his love for you is not one-tenth your love for him.
I know that you have a gambling problem, and you really should seek help, but not from me. I'm not that self-sacrificing.
I know that you fancy older women.
I know that you're a public annoyance, but your kindness and generosity more or less makes up for all the display of bad behaviour.
I know that you did the unthinkable twice, I wish you told me back then, I wish I was that I didn't find out the way (much later) because it must've been awful and I would never wish for a friend to go through anything like that.
I know that you still don't trust him, but then again, he has done nothing to earn your trust.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
With this ring, house, and car... I wed theeSometimes I wonder why some people choose to get married. Like this young couple I know - the girl is older than her husband by two years. She's got a stable job, he's still studying. Or seems to be studying. She bought a relatively nice car that cost slightly more than RM80,000 and he drives it. On top of her day job, she's involved in some multi-level marketing business to earn passive income, while the husband spends his nights playing online PC games or hanging out with his friends. Best of all, they don't stay together. She's staying with her parents, while he's staying with his.
I find this arrangement very weird, but my friend told me that the husband has trained his wife really well to accept this kind of lifestyle.
Has the concept of marriage life really evolved so drastically? I must admit I'm rather conservative when it comes to marriage. My parents set the bar really high for me. My father started working after Form 6 because my grandfather couldn't afford to send him to college or university. But when he was dating my mother, he bought her first car (a Volkswagon), and a Volvo just before they got married. By the time they got married, my father owned two houses already, and the houses were not inherited property - he actually bought them with his own money. Not bad for a working class guy without any tertiary education.
With property prices skyrocketing, it's very difficult for people to come up with the cash to buy houses. I definitely do not want to stay with my parents or his after marriage, but I do not like the idea of renting either. IMHO, I rather use rent money to pay for a house in installments.
Oh gawd, now the idea of getting married is starting to freak me out. Ugh.
I find this arrangement very weird, but my friend told me that the husband has trained his wife really well to accept this kind of lifestyle.
Has the concept of marriage life really evolved so drastically? I must admit I'm rather conservative when it comes to marriage. My parents set the bar really high for me. My father started working after Form 6 because my grandfather couldn't afford to send him to college or university. But when he was dating my mother, he bought her first car (a Volkswagon), and a Volvo just before they got married. By the time they got married, my father owned two houses already, and the houses were not inherited property - he actually bought them with his own money. Not bad for a working class guy without any tertiary education.
With property prices skyrocketing, it's very difficult for people to come up with the cash to buy houses. I definitely do not want to stay with my parents or his after marriage, but I do not like the idea of renting either. IMHO, I rather use rent money to pay for a house in installments.
Oh gawd, now the idea of getting married is starting to freak me out. Ugh.
