I wonder how they will punish the pretender that she has always and will always be.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
I had a conversation with a guy the other day. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing worth mentioning. He wasn't hot, wasn't bad looking. Unfortunately he wasn't all that interesting either. I need a certain level of intellectualism from the opposite sex to keep me interested and he wasn't displaying the level that I require. Hey everybody has a check list, Intellect for me rank waaaay Up There.
So today I was watching TV, as part of my ongoing eternal campaign of procrastinating from doing whatever shit that I'm supposed to do. As I was flipping through the channel I saw something that looked familiar to me. I saw that guy. Of whom I have spoken to. On TV. WTF?
Albeit that it was on sports channel and I was aware that he was saying something about sports but it was pretty...'insert-proper-adjective-here' to know that he is on TV. And he didn't mentioned that to me that his work actually involving him being on TV.......now that I know he is on TV, his level of HOTness just skyrocketed. Does this makes me shallow and superficial and hypocritical seeing that I say I value intellect intensely?
Of course. To all 3.
Do I care? Not really.
As far as I'm concerned, being on TV is a huge turn on to anyone....now where did I put his number?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Right. So fucking pissed off. Wanna kill little puppies. Wanna kill fuckers that cross the road as I'm driving my car. Wanna kill that asshole who look at me funny. Wanna hurt, inflict physical pain on people just because they say "Good Morning" to me.
Fuck that shit!! Do I look like I'm having a super great morning with cherry on top to you? Huh? Do I appreciate you're coming over and being happy while my hormones are so messed up I just wanna say something mean so that I can make you cry? So that I can make you feel as miserable as I am? But I'm not doing that because fucked up hormones or not situation is still under control. Now excuse me while I leave your side and sit at the other corner of the room. Coz if I stay here any longer, I will ended up bitch slapping that face of yours and that would be a shame coz on good days I do like you a lot and we are friends. But you need to stop talking right at this very moment coz you're pushing me over the edge.
Fucking fucking fucking hate PMS. I hate that so many people knows my name that so many need to say hello that so many need to fucking know how I am. I am pissed. I am miserable. I am not in the mood for small talk and no, I do not want to help you get a gift for your girlfriend. She's your girlfriend, not mine. Eat shit and die. My hormones are fucking with me that I either wanna yell at you or break down in tears. That I either wanna smack you so bad but at the same time I want you to hold me tight. And no it doesn't matter who you are either.
This is insane. I'm keeping it in. There is a saying I heard before. They say that at times God punish women coz apparently Eve committed the first sin. Well payback is a bitch and I'm paying for it now. Thanks a lot Eve, thanks for the crazy-ass bipolar mood swing on a monthly basis. We owe you BIG time.
God I hate that guy who's looking at me from across the room. Don't fucking smile at me. I don't fucking know you. I am not in the mood. Stop fucking smiling or I will go there and I will poke your eyeballs out with my pen. Stupid smiling fucker. Must maintain cool. Must not yell at people. Must not poke anybody in the eye with a pen. Good God, this guy in front of the class wearing the fugly shirt is a dickhead. What a fugly, fugly shirt. I wish I could kick his ass. Jason Bourne style, straight out the motherfucking window.
Arrggghhhh!!!!!! So angry, so angry for no reason. Fuck I hate PMS. I hate PMS. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. People are so happy. Laughing all the time. Smiling and talking shit and laughing and laughing and laughing. I hope you choke and die on your own laughter. At least you'll die happy and not miserable. Be thankful for that. I hate this. I want to go home. I want a sedative. Like a calming pill. Like a...a....what's the name of that calming pill? Or something better. Like chronic.
I need to hit something. I need to hold something. I need to go home and calm down. I need to chill. I need a pill. I need chronic. I need to get laid, oh great look at that. Now I'm horny. Somebody hurry up get that tranquilizer gun and shoot me with it already.
Having PMS sucks donkey ball.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
I hate that each month, every frickin month until I hit mid-50ies, assuming of course if I can get to live that long, that there would be days usually spanning three to four days of which I will wake up and hating myself. From that self-hate will come anger and this anger will manifest itself into incomparable meanness. This then will automatically set a chain of events that by the end of that three or four days, I will most probably have no friends left and my family will most probably hate me so much that they will seriously consider disowning me. But I couldn't really give a rat's ass to the issue seeing that I am busy wallowing in self pity and angst ridden to the point that even Sylvia Plath and the army of emo kids around the world will be held in awe by me.
I fondly call these moments O' Shitty Days.
You know this as PMS.
We all collectively despise it.
Friday, October 19, 2007
For those of you out there who have not watched this movie I say friggin drag your ass to the cinema already and watch it!! It is like the one of the coolest movies I ever watched. And its an action movie too. FYI, I hate action movies with a passion so deep, it scares the bejesus out of Hitler. Most actions movies are repetitive and empty- plot wise, that they insult my intelligence. Case and point: ALL VanDamme movies.
But not with the Bourne franchise. Finally a movie that has both brains and brawn. Bourne can speak 7 different languages, highly intelligent and move swiftly like a friggin ninja! Bourne can kick ass like no body's business. It's so cool, I could wet my pants. Plus, BU also has a pretty intelligent plot seeing that it does come from a bestselling novel triology. And have I mentioned the fight scenes?
Okay, yes I am aware that the fights were choreograph. Yes, I understand that those scenes are not done in a single take. Yes, I acknowledge that the art of editing and the magic of sound effects made all the fight sequences look and sounds so amazing. Yes, I comprehend that the usage of handheld cameras adds to the suspense. While I do know more than the average person regarding the matters of film making seeing that I am heading off to film school, I choose to overlook it coz, c'mon why wanna ruin a brilliant thing like the Bourne Ultimatum over some flimsy thing as the basics of film making? Fuck that.
The fights scenes were so brilliant that upon leaving the cinema I had the overwhelming urge to pick fights with someone, anyone, so long as I can kick their asses- Jason Bourne style. Uh huh. Seriously. But I repressed it because as it turns out I am not Jason Bourne, and if I do get into fights with anyone I will undoubtedly get my ass whooped. This, I have no doubt.
But wouldn't it be cool if say...I am married to Jason Bourne? Say that in some alternate universe we met, fell in love, have fantastic sex and then he ended up being my husband. Dude! I would pick fights with everyone coz I can. Coz my husband is a bad ass. Think about it:
I'm in line at the cinema and some asshole cut in front of me in the queue. I tap him on the shoulder and say that he should go to the back of the line but he told me to fuck off instead. So what do I do? I call my husband Jason Bourne and he comes and whoop that asshole back to last year! Yeah some kungfu ninja shit and all while looking insanely sleek. Then as the onlookers ooh and ahh, I'll go "Yeah, that's my husband Jason Bourne. He can really layeth the smacketh down on any one of you assholes. He hardcore."
I found a parking spot and as I was maneuvering my car into it, some jackass came out of nowhere and got into the spot before I did. WTF? I got out of my car, banged on his window and demanded that he move his damn car .He told me to fuck off and somehow managed to slip in the fact that anything with tits can't park cars for shit. So what do I do? I call my husband Jason Bourne and he comes and whoop that jackass back to last year! Yeah, he will brake Jackass's window and then proceed to grab him by the ears and drag his ass out of the car. Yes I said "grab him by the ears". Coz that's my husband Jason. He hardcore. Then he will do a roundhouse kick with a combination of jujitsu to beat the living crap out of Jackass. Finally when Jackass cannot take it anymore, Jason (my husband, in case you have somehow managed to forget that) would then proceed to flying kick him off the roof (lets assume that the parking lot was a rooftop parking lot). Then as the crows who live on the rooftop caw insanely at the spectacle they just witnessed I'll say "Yeah, that's my husband Jason Bourne. He flying kick people off the roof all the time. He hardcore."
When I finally begin my evil plan to TAKE OVER THE WORLD, I will use Jason as my awesome-death-defying-fighting-machine.
In the movie he was involved in a car crash and did not even get a small cut while the villain had a concussion or something. He leaped from one rooftop to another and not once did he stumble. Finally in the last scene, he jumped off a building- a 20 floor building, got shot in mid-air and plunge into the water- 20 floors down, mind you- and STILL survives. If that shit ain't hardcore, I dunno what is. I will collect his awesome-death-defying-fighting-machine DNA and harvest it so that I can raise an army of Jason Bourne clones. Bazookas, tanks, fighter jets and whatever combat weapons you have, have got nuthin on the Army of Jason Bourne Clones that I have created.
I am an evil genius. Now bow down and stare in wonder.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
By the laws of nature, every girl will have a frenemy. Notice how I say law? Because it is. Long, loooong ago, in ancient times when the world was created and the galaxy as we know it came together, there was a rule that says every girl will have a frenemy. Any girl that says she doesn't have one is a lying bitch. And I implore you to track her down and kick her ass.
I have a frenemy. It comes with the territory. I was educated from the age of 7 to 17 in an all-girls institution. This institution of mine, though I remember it fondly now, thrives on bitchiness... and mind games were the all-time favourite sport. Girls were thought to be civilized, respectful and to avoid conflict at all times. We were thought to never doubt ourselves and to have no fear in voicing our opinions but ironically, when it comes to confrontations, it is strongly advisable that we do not engage in any. Females are after all a genteel breed and hence begins the mind fucking games we play in the hallways and inside the classrooms because of some misunderstanding or another.
There was a... creature back then, we called her 'D', now she...she mastered the game. She fucking pwned the game. D wanted to be popular. Fortunately for the rest of us, she has 2 strikes against her:
1) she wasn't pretty
2) she wasn't skinny
D really, really wanted to be popular; it was her sole purpose in life. She decided that she will attached herself to people that can bring her up; people higher than her in the social ladder. D, though not attractive, is charming. She can weave sweet lies out of nothing, candy coated everything to get people onto her side. Bitch is as cunning as she is manipulative and bitch was damn good at it too. Once she's done with you, she will cast you aside just like that. But that is after she spread malicious rumours about you, see D was so good at pretending like she cares so that people trust her and tell her things. Once she decided that you no longer have any use to her, she will destroy you and move on to the next person.
I know this because I was one of those she cast aside.
I went against the code of conduct and confronted her about it. She didn't blinked, she didn't lie. She told it to my face what she did, why she did it and told me that I am no longer of use to her. Then she gave me a pitying smile and walked away. I can still remember that smile now even though it happened long ago. I hated D, I hate her still but I am not ashamed to admit that I respect her as well. Cunning, manipulative, a fucking bitch but she does know what she wants and she goes for it. And bitch certainly have some balls.
High school is long gone now yet D and I are in contact with each other. Why? Ever heard of the saying, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?. Yeah, that's why. We are aware that we do not like each other, we are aware that we do not enjoy each other's company and we are aware that neither will spit on the other if one of us caught fire ...but yet we keep in contact still.
D moved to Europe after school so our communication is strictly through the net. D constantly checks my Friendster profile though I never updates it. Recently she joined Facebook and she added every friend that we have in common, yet she didn't add me. Its back to that petty-high-school-bullshit again. I am curious of what she has been up too but I will not add her. Its like a fucked up mind game, whoever that does the friend request is- in an unspoken but acknowledged term- inferior to the other one. Snicker and laugh all you want, I admit, VERY petty shit but yes, I won't cave. I am fucking petty. And I wanna see how long bitch can hold out coz as far as I'm concerned she practically lives on my Friendster profile anyways.
Recently during Eid, she sent me a text message. "Eid Mubarak. How are you? Long time no chat. Miss the good old days, bla bla bla." Interesting, bitch bothered to spent money and sent an international text message to me when she could easily ask me the same thing on a network we both are on for free...if she added me. Don't you think?
Frenemies....I don't know why I bother.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The other day I called my teacher a bastard.
I said his name, followed by "is a bastard".
He heard me.
He knows it's me.
You have no idea how FUCKED I am right now.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
I loathe hospitals. They are always so sad and so...lonely. They radiate a vibe of hopelessness. People go to hospitals to get better because in some ways they are ill. Hopeful that they will get better. Its ironic then that I always feel hopeless whenever I ended up in a hospital- just visiting or admitted.
My uncle was involved in a hit and run today. A motorcyclist hit him as he was crossing the street to buy savouries from the night market. There were witnesses. They say that the motorcyclist was thrown off his bike but quickly get up and sped off as my uncle laid on the street, bleeding. No one could identify the motorcyclist. It happened too quickly. Plus, anyone who had ever watched and episode of CSI knows that witnesses are unreliable.
I was talking shit in school when my father called me telling me to come home so that we can go to the hospital. "It doesn't look good" he said. When I got to the hospital, some of my relatives were already there. Quite. Speaking in whispers. Holding up the walls. Its...wrong. Eid is on this coming Saturday. We fasted a month, we were supposed to celebrate. Not holding up in anxiety of what is looming.
I watched as his wife, my aunt, sat quietly. A far away look in her eyes. I watched as the youngest daughter sat by her mother, holding her hand with tears running down her face. I watched as the adult son thanking people for coming on such a short notice, trying to put on a brave face but failing. I watched as every one's face tells what they know is coming but no one is saying out loud.
I know that my face mirror theirs.
My uncle is 61 years old. He is in a coma now. Saturday is Eid. A day for family and festivities. Accidents are never good but it is especially bad when it happen round this time of year.
I do not know my uncle. I do not know his family. We are not close. Even so, blood bonds us all together and when tragedy strikes, blood comes together. I look at my father and I think what if the situation reverse itself? What if it is my father who was there? Who is in a coma, of whom the doctor described as "a 20/30% chance for survival?" How will I cope? Will I take quietly the way my aunt and her daughter are taking it? Or will I be dignified the way the son is?...Or will I lose it all together?
Questions of which I never want to know the answers.
My mom says that things like these are not good but they are nonetheless, the reality of life. Everything must come to and end. Facing it helps builds strength and character, she says.
It builds strength.
It builds character.
But it does not make it any easier.
My uncle has woken up from the coma.
There is hope yet.
He will need to be hospitalized for a while but there aren't internal bleeding like what the doctors suspected at first so its all good now. Thank god.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Last night, around 1 ish in the morning, almost 2 o'clock in the morning actually, I had a craving for McD's fries. It has been years since I ate anything McD. Its not like I'm against them, I just had so much of McD as a child that when I'm grown I just don't want to eat anything related to McD anymore.
The clock on the wall says its about 11 minutes to 2 in the morning and its not safe to leave the house at such time. I say this coz I'm paranoid and convinced that one day I will be attacked by someone so like Professor Mad-Eye Moody says in HP- CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Plus, I also don't stay out late often. More of homebody really...but anyways it almost 2 o'clock in the morning and I really want those McD fries. Those heavenly McD fries....
So I put on more appropriate clothing, ran to my garage and get my car started. There is a 24 hours drive thru McD in my area. Its like 15 minutes away from home. At this time of day, I got there in 5 minutes time. I fucking love the traffic - there is NONE!
But seeing that this is me, obviously I have to run away with my imagination. I smiled as I make believe that the yellow street light reflected on the hood of my car as I drive by was an alien space ship making rounds above my neighbourhood, to see that the humans are under controlled. No need for a world invasion- yet. The little glare from the side mirror was someone following me from behind, believing I was someone else. And the coldness I feel on my neck, that comes from the AC, is actually air being blown on my neck by an unknown and unwanted passenger from a different realm sitting behind me....in all honesty that creeps me out.
When I arrived at the McD drive through there wasn't much activity goin on. There was couple sitting inside, sharing fries and one of the employees was moping the floor. I ordered my fries and nuggets and when I drove on the other window to pick up the food, the girl that was working that window looks awfully exhausted but she stared at me like I'm crazy. I figured that maybe she doesn't see much action at this time of the day...which is strange. The world is full of crazy people and well I supposed I'm not the craziest. Surely they have had customers at this time of day before?
I got stuck at a traffic light on my way home and since I'm a greedy pig, I just stopped so that I could eat the fries in my car and another car stopped next to me. I made no eye contact, coz well its already 2 in the morning, making no eye contact is the rule. But the driver was staring at me and I could feel his gaze on me and when I look at him, he was still staring. He looks harmless enough so I ignored him.
When I arrived home, my sister was waiting for me. She wanted fries too. The first thing she said when she let me into the house was
"Where's my fries?"
the second thing was
"So hungry you couldn't have wash your face mask off?"
Oh...so that's why they were staring. Oh well.