Et tu, Tinesh?

You see, I have this term of endearment for my friends. Sunflower. I know it's weird as hell but sunflower is my favourite flower and when I really like someone, I call them Sunflower. As a term of endearment. Sunflowers are only given to the ones...well the ones that I really like who I think above all, are the family I chose for myself instead of the ones that have been dealt to me by the hands of fate. Not that I don't love my family, of course I do. I mean I have to put up with disturbing shit that they do and the harsh words they say and find it in my heart to love and cherish them still. No family that have been dealt to you by the hands of fate is internal, everlasting love. Where else, the family you chose for yourself are the ones borne out of camaraderie, understanding and most of all respect. And oh yeah, also good times, in-jokes and random moments of stupidity.....which always involves plans that at the moment seemed like a fucking genius plan but when executed is just fucking stupid and will collectively get everyone in trouble. Yes...these is what friendship is all about.











So anyways there's a couple of my sunflowers right here in the blogsphere. There's Gypsy who have been there all they way since the high school years. There's Cheesecakeerian and 3kc/ who goes to the same college as I do for the last 2 years. There's Elfie, who I've known for a short term but grown to be close with and then....there's Tinesh. I don't have that many close guy friends who are non-gay. Seeing that I'm a fag hag and all (as Peter have pointed out) but yup....Tinesh is a close guy friend. A sunflower. Well....he used to be.











Until I stripped him off the title.

Why?

He betrayed me!!!!! Traitor!!!









Omg, you guys remember that little annoying tit that I wanted to stab in the eye with a blunt pencil and then strip her naked, pour honey on her, tie her to a tree and then watch as red ants eat her alive as I cackle my evil laugh? Tweety? Do you remember her? Yup, that bitch.








He went out and party with her.








Traitor. Okay lah, fine....he was invited to a party that she was just so happened to be there. Okay lah. Fine I get it. And he didn't even danced with her on anything but still......Imagine my shock when I logged onto Facebook and then go "Hey Tinesh been tagged".....or "Look he went to a party"........."Looks fun.....hhhmmmm......eh.......Wait. A. Fucking. Minute........................WHAT THE FUCK? IS TWEETY THERE? AND TINESH? MY SUNFLOWER? FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY??!!!" Dude, I almost died.








You traitor!!! You are no longer a sunflower, I disown you. No, seriously. I disown you. You traitorous non-sunflower. Dude, how could you party with her? How do you even stand being in one room with her? Did you feel your IQ trickling out of your ears just being in my room with her? I mean......ewwwwww.............didn't you just felt her stupid disease just attacking your stupidity-immune system? I mean....dude, macha, formerly-a-sunflower....how do you even stand being in a room with her without wanting to smack her face until it bleeds? How?








In an event, you betrayed me. You are no longer a sunflower. In disown you. You are hereby strip of all special privileges that comes with being one of my sunflowers. Stripped!!! And the only way you can make up to me is if you get me a life-sized cut-out of Clive Owen so I could dry hump it. No, seriously. Life-sized cut-out. Dry hump. Failing that, teh tarik at Ali Maju followed by a session of groveling. Your choice. But if you bring your "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" series on Wednesday, I'll forgive you 1 day and half faster than I have planned.





But for now, it stands: You traitor!! I disown you.

The end of the road

So the musical was a whole lot of fun. There were sooo many flukes its ridiculous, but in an insanely funny way. Not at that point of course. At that point we were like "Wtf? Wtf?" but now that its done and over with its hilarious. The show only run for two nights, well its a a low-budget college production. So low-budget, the cast comes up with our own costume with the help of the costume department of course. I don't mind. For my role as the dramatic, bimbotic and somewhat slutty-ish Pink Lady I got to buy a brand new awwwwesome skirt and a silky bathrobe. Tee hee hee.Whhhhhat? It wasn't shopping per se, it was for school. I swear.

Its funny now looking back knowing that the only reason I auditioned for the show is for shit and giggles. I went in reading for the role of Rizzo, the leader of the Pink Ladies. I sucked at that by the way. Ironically they call me for the 2nd audition and then at the 3rd one they asked me to read for Marty. The next day, one of the producers called and said I got Marty. I was like "Thank you......... Who's Marty?". Then I asked them why I got Marty and he said "Because we think you have stage presence and quite sensual."....................cue LOLwalrus!!

Whatever dude.

I got the role.

Being bimbotic is really no problem. Years of making fun of bimbos comes in handy when playing Marty. And being slutty also is a no biggie I just need to release the inner slut within. The Constantly Dramatic One, as you might noticed, have always had a somewhat slutty side lurking underneath. A repressed slutty side because of good breeding and circumstance.........But I swear to God, if I don't have the upbringing I have.......maaan......

You probably would guess by now that that Tweety bimbo that I was consistently bitching about is part of the play too. Its extremely painful to deal with her day in and day out for the last 6 weeks. Furthermore we're suppose to be buddies on the show. Stupid bitch never comes to rehearsals on time, always making excuses, every one of the cast is off the script at least 1 week into Opening Night she still fumbling her lines during the final rehearsal. Tell me you don't get pissed too. And remember my now infamous Weakest Link post? Yeah, I was right.

Opening night rolls in and she was indeed the weakest link. Bitch fumbles her lines, cant emote with her face (she has only one look on her face - the vapid and bimbotic look) and most of the audience cant hear shit what she was talking about. And guess what, according the lecturers who came that night, the Constantly Dramatic One was the crowd's favourite. Heard that Tweety? You know why was I the crowd's favourite? Because I come to rehearsal on time, I remember my cue and lines, I can emote with face - I do not hold on exclusively to the vapid and bimbotic expression that you seems to favour so much and the best part of it is that when I was doing all that I was jacked up on painkiller for my toe meaning I was "out of it" a bit. The Constantly Dramatic One was the Crowd's Favourite bitch and you're the one who had acting classes. Not me.

I am soooo glad that this is done and over with. I had some good times during the production. Funny moments during rehearsals, in-jokes we shared, going shopping for costume, tripping over each other during dancing scenes, bitching about Tweety with some of the other cast who cant stand her either and hey, its a great feeling knowing that you delivered, did not fumbled your lines on stage and made the people laugh and of course becomes the Crowd's Favourite as opposed to the Weakest Link. But really, if you tell me that I have to spend another day with Tweety, to force myself to smile weakly at her, to be civilized with her for the sake of the production, I will buy a gun from the nearest pawn shop and shoot you dead centre in the forehead.

That bitch is stupid okay. And please do bear in mind that when I say that, I had my share of dealing with Indonesian maids that have never been in a big city and they use words that I can barely understand. Compared to Tweety, everyone of them can win the Nobel Prize. If there ever an award for stupidity being given out like the Academy Awards, then I will campaign that those awards should be carved in Tweety's likeness coz she is the dumbest person that have ever walked God's Green Earth. Now I'm looking forward to the day that when I pass her in the hallways. I no longer have to smile or be nice to her. I can just plain out be bitchy and show her how much I hate her. But I guess when I do that she probably wont get it. Coz she is just that stupid.

Anyways, Im happy that the production was a success, that I was good on stage, that I do not need 27 years of therapy from this but most off all no more Tweety for the rest of my life...... The sweet life without stupidity. Bet you guys wanna see photos. Fo sho. Next post would be the Rehearsal photos, Opening Night photos and finally the Backstage: Before and After photos. Wait for it.

..................................And if you wanna know who Tweety is then spot the bitch with the vapid and bimbotic look on her face aaaaalll the time.

You're Only as Strong as Your Weakest Link

I wanna hurt you. I really, really wanna hurt you. You stupid fucking spoilt bitch. I am so angry. So fucking angry.

15 days. 15 fucking days.

We have 15 days to go and you still dunno what the fuck you are supposed to. I know what I have to do. I am bringing it. I know what and when and how to do it when I need to. Why can't you? You stupid fucking spoilt bitch.

Listen Tweety, I dealt with your whole need to talk like a retarded 4 year old. I have dealt with. I dunno why the hell you wanna do that for but I have dealt with that. It doesn't irritates me anymore. What irritates me is your laziness. And the fact that you give excuses for your laziness.

Oh I cannot do this coz my knees hurts.

I'm not dressed properly coz my knees hurts.

I dunno what to do coz my knees hurts.

There's only so much you can use with the whole knees thing, okay you stupid fucking bitch. If it hurts so much than why do I not see you on pain killers? If it hurts so much than why can you do your cutesy little skip in front of me.

You are a fucking spoilt, lazy little bitch.

Huney wake up. You're in college. You are not at home. At home you can get away with this shit. In college there is a certain thing called responsibility. I am sorry that your parents never teach you that. I know my responsibilities and I don't shun them. My parents, they love me but they kick my ass when they think they need to do so. I'm sorry that your parents never see that need and pamper you so much until you become an irritating little spoilt lazy bitch that do not understand the concept of responsibility.

Its called doing your part. Its called coming prepared. Its called not giving excuses when you are too lazy to not know what you need to fucking do. This project is going down in flames coz you are a stupid bitch that does not give a damn. We work as a team. We present as a team. A team is only as strong as the weakest link. You are currently our weakest link. You are taking us down in flames.

I refused to let you do that and that's why we are going to have a little talk the next time we meet up.

You fucking spoilt lazy little bitch.

Child labour

My stupid college is putting me under child labour.

I have a meeting yesterday. It was from 2pm until 9pm. That's seven hours. Seven hours!! Count that bitches! And we stayed back like 3 hours after college hours. They wanted the meeting to be longer but I was like "Oh no bitch! You not making me miss Ugly Betty!"

Nothing comes between me and Amanda. Our love is true .

Anyways, God.....seven hours. So tiring. My muscle aches. My ass aches. My boobs aches. Everywhere aches. I had to do splits. The Constantly Dramatic One does not do splits you bitches. But somehow I did. And it hurts. A lot. However we did cover a whole lot of grounds in the on-going project. Which is something I am extremely pleased with. It was a lot of hard work, downright child labour but we got a lot done. This project, which I thought was doomed to failure in the beginning might have a shot of glory. Might. But even though we have covered lots of ground, but there are a lot more to be done. A lot more.

18 days to dateline. Clock is ticking. Fuck.

Anyways you know something weird happened. You know how I always bitch about the girls in my team. Yeah, at one point I was sure that somehow all the bimbos had a meeting and then decided to join this project. No one gave me a memo so somehow I got myself stuck in this mess, with all the bimbos from college. It was hell okay. I have to deal with Tweety, I have to deal with Jackass, I have to deal with this chick that thinks she is the hottest thing that ever walked on God's green earth, this other chick who DOES look like a nasty slut and a himbo. I cannot stand it. I talk shit about them. I bitch about them on my blog.

But yesterday after SEVEN hours continuously being with them, having dinner together, planning and stuff I decided they're not that bad after all. I was genuinely concerned when Tweety fell down and scraped her knees. I was like "Are you okay? Do you need anything?". And then when another team mate singled her out I defended her. Like WTF right? Then the chick-formerly-known-as-Jackass was trying to crack her lame-ass jokes with me I actually smiled and laughed. The jokes are ridiculously lame but I laugh coz I don't want her to feel bad. She's just being friendly. Why cant I? Why must I be a bitch all the time?

Then that chick who I thinks look like a nasty slut. Well she is still a nasty slut in my opinion. But she is a nasty slut that I kinda like now. She's quirky, she's passionate, she's talented, she's still a nasty slut but hey at least she's being true to herself. And that is something I could respect. Thing is these people are not the people that would ever become my friends. We don't click. But I think, after being with them for SEVEN hours straight I can honestly say that I know them a bit better now. I don't think I like them that much but I accept them as who they are.

When Tweety acts all adorable now, I don't flinch. I no longer scheme the perfect crime of running her down with a tractor and making it look like an accident in my mind. When the chick-formerly-known-as-Jackass screams and yells, I just stare and accept that bitch has mood swings. We all do. She just can't control it yet. People don't change overnight.

I don't like them. We will never be friends. But we are all working for a common goal and that is for this project to turn out successful. And that is a good enough reason for me to be civilized.

Orrrrr maybe this is the seven hours fatigue doing the talking?

Fuck if I know.

Oh what a glorious feeling

I just got back from another meeting of my on-going project. It was glorious. The meeting I mean.



Remember Tweety? Ms. I'm-all-grown-but-I-speak-like-a-retarded-4-year-old? Yeah that one. She has a sidekick and this one is worst. Truly Tweety is the one of the lesser evil coz the other one has issues. Waaaay bigger than Tweety's. This one is ridiculously annoying. She likes to yell at people, a bonafide bossy brat, moody as fuck and so delusional to think that she's cute. Fortunately for me, she isn't. And when it comes down to it, she and the Constantly Dramatic One does not get along. Plus I'm biased. She yelled at one of my friends before and called him a jackass to his face therefore she has been officially indicted as 'The Enemy". Otherwise known as "bitch you're fucked now".



I really don't like her and I get the vibe that she doesn't like me either. I think the boys in the team also do not like her because she yells at them when she feels like it. And then when she feels like it, acts all cutie around them. Issues.

Bitch has issues.



So there's this party coming up that the whole team is going to since one of our member is the one throwing it. So she was saying that she found a dress for the party but its too big and it sucks sooo much coz she so wanted to wear it and bla fucking bla. I really don't give a flying fuck. To everything that she says, I go "Hhhmm" and nothing else.



"I found a dress!
Hhhmm.
Like it was like gold and black.
Hhmmm.
But it was one size too big.
Hhmmm."
Well boo hoo, I don't give a rat's ass bout you jackass.



Then comes the glorious part.



She was like, "Ouuuuuu you're going to the party? Me too! I HAVE A DATE!!"



Then she grins and stared at me in that expectant way when you want people to ask you everything about your date. Who is he? What's his name? When is his birthday? What brand of diapers did his Mama use to contained his ass. That shit.

But I didn't.

I just stared back.

Then I turn to the guy sitting next to me and started asking him about the most trivial shit I could think of.

I asked him where he got his flip flops from.





Ohmygawd!!! You should have seen the look on her face!!! It was priceless!! I cannot even begin to describe how happy and contented her face made me feel at that very moment. Ahahahahahahahahahhahaha!!!



Glorious people. Gloooorious.



That's for calling my friend a jackass, you jackass.

P/S:

"Oh what a glorious felling" is a movie tagline. Which movie did I stole it from. Hint: Its one of my favourite movies.

There's a thin line between girly and fucking annoying

A lot of people have told me that I am somewhat girly. "Girlier than most, but not in the irritating-girly-kinda-thing." And I guess they are kinda right. Somewhat.

I have a penchant to have at least one pink item on me everyday. If its not my top, then its my bag. If its not the bag, then its the shoes. If its not the shoes than its the lipstick. And if you can't see any pink anywhere on me, then its a safe bet that my bra is pink that day. I call my friends "sunflowers" as a term of endearment. The girls have dealt with it, the guys still cringe coz "It's just too gay". I am not ashamed to admit that I love the Spice Girls, Britney or the Sugababes..... and I consider Linkin Park "hardcore". I love cupcakes, I think action movies are ridiculously boring, I am attached to my stuffed toys, Marilyn Monroe IS a style icon, I adore movies that make me cry, I spend waaaaaaay too much time on Polyvore.com creating fashion sets and I wish my car is pink instead of blood red.

So yes. Girly. Somewhat.

But just because I am somewhat girly that does not mean I cannot kick your ass.

So there's this chick right. She's girly. Waaaay girlier than the Constantly Dramatic One. The first time we met, she told me that she likes my outfit. It was pink. The second time, she asked me if she could braid my hair. The third time we met, she started baby talking with me.

What. The. Fuck?

This bimbo, I am gonna make an educated guess here that she is at least 18 years old to be in college and she started baby talking out of nowhere. We are involved in a project that require us to be in each other's constant company for the next 6 weeks, and this bitch started speaking baby talk. With everyone who is involved in the project. It's like she came in completely normal and then middle of this whole thing she decided that she is too cute for words that she started baby talking. Observe the vocab:

"But but, I dunno its wike that. I would reaaaaaali reaaaaali try wike better."

" I wuv you, I wuv you soooooo soooooooo much" (while hugging her own fucking shoes).

"OMG!" (not Oh My God people, as in the letters O.M.G out loud. Bitch speaks in acronym).

And every time she deliver these, she would always have her head tilt to her side, her lips pouted, made her eyes bigger and speak in a voice that she presume is cute. It is not cute. It is the most annoying piece of shit I ever had to encounter in my life. If my shoes are not as expensive as they are, I would take them off and beat the living shit out of her with it when she does that.

I am gonna assume that you are capable of speaking in coherent sentences. I am very sure of this since I have seen and heard you done it before. You are girly, I know that. You also think that you are cute. Which sadly, you are mistaken. And in attempt to be cute, you decided to speak in that retarded way of speaking to drive home the fact that you are indeed, cute.

Huney....it doesn't work. You do not come across as cute. You come across as a spoilt brat who sadly.... is retarded in the head. I am sorry for your parents. But then I am sure they are already aware of this. My condolences nonetheless.

And the whole fucked up part of this is that I will be stuck with you for the next 6 fucking weeks. And in this 6 fucking weeks, we are going to have to meet up for at least 4 times a week. And in that 4 times a week, at least a two hour session each. That's 8 hours of listening to you talking your retarded language and trying to be cute. That's 8 hours of trying not to roll my eyes at you. That's 8 hours of talking to myself out of pulling your lips as you pout them. That's 8 hours of feigning friendliness your way because I want to maintain a good relationship - for the good of the project. 6 fucking weeks. I dunno how I am gonna achieve this when you are making it so fucking difficult.

Now maybe somewhere along the way, someone have told you that when you tilt your head to the side, pout your lips and speak all baby-ish, this would make your cute. This someone could have been your boyfriend. I'm sure that its not annoying when you do your baby talk with him. He might have dug it. But then let's take into account that he also has a penis and he probably was sticking it in you the whole time. He has benefits of listening to you speaking like you are retarded in the head. He was getting some.

Newsflash bitch: I do not have a penis.

I gain no benefits whatsoever from you deperately trying to be "cute" and "adorable". You on the other hand do gain something. You gain my pure, unadulterated loathing, a blog post dedicated to your bimbotic pursuits and the topic of interest to my sunflowers when I describe in detail how much I want to inflict bodily harm on you over lunch.

And when I do meet up with you next - and I will be doing a lot of that in this coming 6 weeks - you better not say anything along the lines "OMG! I made a boo boo".

Because huney, I will end you.

And I'll make it look like an accident.