"Creepy" doesn't even cover it

So uh...I'm scared. I want to use the word “terrified” but that would be pushing it, so let's stick to scared.

I woke up at an unGodly hour today, despite going to sleep late. It was around 5ish in the morning and it was one of those bullshit thing and you can't go back to sleep. So cause I can't go back to sleep, I decided to do some room cleaning and then round 6.5ish decided to go do my laundry.

We have a public laundry here where I live. It's in this badly lighted room with a sensor light that flickers all the goddamn time in the name of “energy saving.” So it was round 6.15 ish this morning, it was really cold and windy...and dark. Winter is brutal this year. I was all alone in the laundry room, the light was flickering and I was measuring the detergent when he showed up. Who?

Creepy-ass Gym Dude.

For those who are new here, you can read all about the creepiness here and here. But the short version is this: This guy watched me at the gym when I go there to workout, hits on me and then followed me home. Like he fucken followed me home. I'm not even exaggerating. I have stopped going to the gym completely because of him. So yes, creepy doesn’t even begin to explain the extent of this fuckkery.

So again, it was 6.15 ish, it was dark, the light was flickering and there's just the two of us in the laundry room. I think he was coming back or either going for a morning run, walked by the laundry room and saw me. The thing was......he stopped and stood at the only entrance and exit of the room hence blocking it, leaned on the frame and stared at me. I looked up from measuring the detergent and he was there, leaning on the frame and stared at me like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.

I didn't know what to do. I stood there holding the detergent box and just looked at him. I mean, wtf, he didn't even say hi. Just stared at me. I was scared you guys. My whole body tensed, and all I could think of was “Fuck OMG there's no way out. There's no way out.”

Then I said “Hey, how are you?” Kinda wanted to get rid of the intense creepiness and maybe if I get him to talk he won't go all batshit insane on me.

He didn't replied. He just stood there. Staring.

I was overwhelmed with fear. I mean, it was really early in the morning, it was really quite. He stood there blocking the door and this guy, he's like 6'2? 6'3? He's not big, but lean and muscular. And I'm there all 5'1 and holding a detergent box and with no other exit. Physically, if anything were to happened, he has the advantage. I was, scared. I was thinking “If he does anything, motherfucking throw the detergent in his eyes then hit him in the balls! Hit him in the fucking balls!”

He stood there a little longer. Stared at me a little longer. Then he left.

I dunno how long it lasted. I dunno when he showed up. But fuck, fuck, that was so creepy. I mean, what the fuck right? I was so scared you guys. I mean, why would anyone do that?

I was shivering when he finally left. I don't think it was from winter alone. He didn't actually do anything but this is considered harassment right? I mean, why would anyone do that? Shit. I let him down easy, it wasn't I was a bitch or something. But that was scary. Holy shit you guys, that was so scary.

I'm still really shaken up from this.

Paranoia...or justified?

I finally have the time to blog now seeing that my sis and bro-in-law (hereby will be known as BIL cause I’m too damn lazy to type the thing all the time okay. Let me be.) are already asleep. I am doing this all on her laptop cause I left mine at home.


Not that I wanted to but because my sis practically yelled down the phone telling me not to bring mine. Her reason being is that when I come back to Malaysia, I will be bringing a lot of stuff so what’s the point of lugging around the laptop. Just additional burden. I could of course yelled back at her saying that I will bring it cause my laptop is my lifeline, an extension of my being, the very reason of my sanity and where I store half naked pictures of firemen I’ve accumulated over the years…but I didn’t. Cause as much as I love my sister and I do; the woman is fucking fierce okay. I get shit scared when she’s angry with me. I still have memories of her yelling at me when I broke her hairclip when I was 7 and she was 12 and that still send shivers down my spine.


I still have an uncontrollable urge to scream out “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to sit on your hairclip with my giant (yet sexy) ass! I’ll buy you a new one!!” whenever we get into an argument. Actually I did that once a couple years ago and she stopped yelling at me, stared and then just walked away mumbling something about weirdos, sister and “just my luck.”


But….I digress.


This post is not about Finland yet. It’s about my journey coming here.


Before I left Malaysia for here, my parents reminded me again and again and again not to leave my bag alone unattended at the airport, not to speak to people, just sit quietly and mind my own business. Not that I am a 9 year old kid that needs reminding but because well they are parents and these days you are always reading about how Malaysian women ended up being drug mules for something or other. I am in fact a single, young woman traveling on my own- prime candidate for a whooole lot of fuckery.


My parents were telling me the same exact thing in the car on the way to the airport. When we were parking the car at the airport carpark. While I was checking in my luggage at the airport. While I was searching for a place to sit at the airport. When I was sipping my hot chocolate at the airport’s café.


Same damn thing. Don’t leave your bags alone. Don’t talk to strangers. Do not become a drug mule and end up in a Turkish prison. Basically the same thing every parent tells their children when they are traveling alone ya know.


So I got on the plane and ended up sitting in an isle sit. There were 2 empty seats between me and some middle aged dude. For a while there it seems like the 2 seats were going to stay empty when at the last minute this dude came in. Blond hair, blue eyes, about 6 feet tall, beer gut hanging out, tattoos all over his arm and uummm…….braided beard. No I’m serious. His beard…..was braided. It was one long…thing hanging off his chin and I knew he was going to be trouble before he parked his ass right beside me. It wasn’t comfortable, I can assure you that. About 5 mins before take off he asked the airhostess for vodka. I thought he was a nervous flyer, probably needs a small amount of liquid courage. So yeah we all have issues. But apparently his issue became my issue when he downed the vodka with 2 white pills. Dude, you don’t mix liquor and medications. Look at what happened to Heath Ledger. Let’s all take something out of that little episode shall we?


About 10 mins into the flight, he started mumbling incoherently. Then he fidgeted about. The hell, these are coach seats and fucker you’re 6 feet tall. Stop fidgeting. After that he begun leaning on me, by this time I believe that he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. Liquor, pills and being that high in the air can do shit to you so I managed to squeeze out of the seat and asked an air hostess to relocate me. I honestly believe that he wasn’t a bad dude…just you know he enjoys taking pills with Vodka.


All to his own.


I did not encounter another pill popper at my next seat but there was this old lady and all through the flight she tried to make conversation with me. At first I pretended not to speak English but that was stupid cause I ended up taking out an English novel to read so then I had to speak to her. She was about 75, Irish by her accent and claimed to be a nun. She wore this huge cross at her neck and told me about her missionary work. I listened to her with feigned interest but really you know….I really do not care. All I wanna do is sleep or check out the steward with the tight ass. He wasn’t hot per’se but tight ass yo…tight ass. Priorities people, priorities.


I dunno if it was the exhaustion of sitting on my ass for 9 hours or my parent’s inflicted paranoia or the fact that I’m obsess with CSI, but it occurred to me that the lady was mentioning the fact that she is nun in every other sentence.


“Me, being a nun told him…..
“Because I’m a nun….
“We nuns know better…..


Like yes, I get that you are a nun. You don’t have to tell me 3 thousand time. God. Yours and mine…but yeah. It was like she was selling it too hard. So I just kept quite. She kept on asking me about me as well. “Was I flying alone? Is anyone meeting me there? Is this my first time traveling alone?” Kinda…weird. Or maybe not but I’ve decided its no big cause I wont be seeing her after the plane landed anyways. After the plane landed in Amsterdam she asked me if I have a transit and that if I would like to have coffee with her, I told her no cause I much rather not waste time and get to the next plane immediately. I thought that was the end of that.


I was browsing through some of the duty free stuff in Schipol when I bumped into her again and again, she asked me for coffee. Clearly I wasn’t rushing anywhere and I can’t refuse her. That would be plain rude so I said yes. I wasn’t happy bout it but there was nothing else I could do.



So we were having coffee and again she was telling me about her missionary work. I didn’t ask really. I mean, maybe she’s proud of what she does. Maybe she was trying to convert me. Maybe I am the perpetual drama queen creating drama in my head when there is none. Whatever it is, I was on edge with her. I felt that we did not “bumped” into each other; she singled me out. This is of course pure speculation.


So we had coffee and then I offered to clear the table and put away the try. I was just in the process of picking my bag from the floor and putting it over my shoulder when she tugged at it. She had her hand on my bag, tugging it towards her and she said


“Why don’t you leave your bag here while you put away the tray?’


What the fuck? Bitch, I am not gonna leave my bag to virtually a stranger whom I just met not even 10 hours ago, okay. And the hell, who the hell are you? I don’t even know you. The hell should I leave my bag with you. Maybe it was a combination of paranoia and exhaustion but alarm bells went off in my head. So I tugged my bag towards me, smiled politely and told her no thanks and this was the weird part….and maybe a bit creepy. She tugged it again. She was like “Oh no, I insist.”


The hell motherfucker?


I tugged again, stronger this time and told her no. Then I put away the tray and told her that I need to use the bathroom. In truth I was ditching her. I mean the fuck. That was creepy okay. You don’t go tugging people’s bag for no reason. I did however went to the bathroom and literally cleared out the entire contents of my bag on the floor of the stall. I went through one by one, I figured if I found anything suspicious and wasn’t mind to begin with; I would have flush it down the toilet. But there was nothing.


I did not went back to the café. I went straight to my Gate, sat through my 3 hours transit and made no eye contact with anyone. Too tired to deal with another fuckery.


Could have been paranoia but really….what’s the deal with the bag tugging bit? What do you guys think?

Cutting it close

I gave my 2 weeks notice yesterday.

 

I’m moving out of this shithole in 6 days.

 

I have no boxes. No movers. No car. No new address to move to.

 

 

My final exam starts on Thursday the 18^th, finishes on the Saturday the 20^th, my moving date is Monday the 22^nd and flying back to Malaysia, 11am flight on Tuesday….the 23^rd.

 

 

No exact plan. And yet I have never been happiest in my entire time that I have been in Aussie.

Finally I will be moving out of this shit house, away from the definitive embodiment of an asshole that is my creepy as fuck housemate. The shit I have to endure in this house is unbelievable. And chill, I will go into explicit detailing of the fuckery that is living in this house under his villainous reign as soon as I am out.

 

 

My things are going to be sent to my friend’s place. She has her own house so I’m gonna store everything at the garage and hope to God that rats don’t get to it. Even so, rats are much better then living here. I loathe living here. I cannot even begin to explain the extent of my despise of living in this shithole. And part of me cannot stop blaming my parents who made me stay here. It was their choice and yet I’m the one that had to endure 4 months of creepy fuckery. Wasn’t even my motherfucking choice and I was the one that had to sleep with a fucking knife under my pillow cause there’s no lock on the door and my housemate is a creepy, stalking fucktard. I’m the one that has to engage in a yelling, sarcastic, snide fights day in and day out. How easy they were bought in by his “Good boy” play and how bullshit it is that I have to pay for their naivety.

 

 

Parents don’t know shit. And it’s always the kids that have to pay for the wrongs they did.

 

 

But I don’t want to talk about it now. Too much quite, burning hatred is not good for the soul. I will though, just not now. Too much anger now.

 

 

However the reason why I am cutting it close with the moving and all is that I absolutely cannot, will not and I plain out refuse to go back to Malaysia, and then fly off to Finland to visits my sister and then come back to Aussie and see his fugly mug. I will be sooo fucking happy and relax and come back and see his face. I cannot deal with that shit man. I much rather be cutting it close. When I come back here again, I will start fresh. Find a new place and other housemates to bitch about. Or maybe to like too.

 

 

I dunno for sure. All I know is that I never wanna come back to this shithole.

So wish me luck with the packing and the exams. The next time I’ll blog would most probably be from Finland, where I will be staying for 20 days with my sister whom I have not seen since last Sept. That alone is enough to get me through the next 6 days with a smile on my face.

 

 

Ta.

This shit is all kinds of creepy

It seems Drama Lovers that my life has now entered a brand new realm of fucked up. It has come to my attention that the aforementioned housemate has found my Facebook account. 

I have a mind that this housemate have been stalking me online. I should have known better seeing that such a person who is devoid of social skills should find refuge in the Interwebs.

After a complete freaking out episode- with no help from Farid, I might add- I have decided all the bitchings of my dwellings would be put on temporary hiatus. The bitchings. Not the postings here.

However, I am left shaken by this revelation and I am looking into another place to live in even as I am typing this. Hopefully I will be able to move out as soon as the term is over.

Fuck you Biawak

Australia is fucking with me. Seriously. It is fucking with me.

Remember when I wrote in passing that a fucking giant lizard appeared at my feet? Well, it happened. Again. That son of a bitch was about 3 inches away from my right foot!! And if you’re thinking “Chill, it’s just a small lizard.” No you mofos, it ain’t a small lizard. Malaysians would know this as a “biawak”. Let me just translate that for you non-Malay reading/speaking readers. “Biawak” means motherfucking hugeass lizards. Okay it does not mean that. I made that up. You’re online. Google it.

So anyways, let me re-enact that faithful day in which I almost had a near brush death experience (ie: being bitten by a biawak). I was walking to class with the Malaysian girl I’ve mentioned before hereby will be known as Mini Skirts. Cause that’s what she wears all the time. Mini skirts, then she bitches about how cold the lecture hall is- much to my amusement. Anyways I was walking to the lecture hall with her. We’re not taking the same subjects but somehow both of our classes are in the same building so we just went there together.

See, the thing bout my campus is…is that it’s in a forest. Now imagine a preserved forest if you could. Think of the beauty of Mother Nature and the importance of preserving it. Now imagine, again if you could that they cleared a huge chunk of land in the middle of it and built a university. Like a little town of its own, in the middle of the fucking forest. That’s how my campus is now. It is all sort of creepy at night. My only consolation is that they don’t have pontianaks in Australia. I’m very sure of this cause I had an in depth discussion with a friend over MSN and by the end of it we came to the conclusion that Pontianaks cannot fly that far over the sea and find me in Aussie.

God, I hope that’s true.

Anyways back to the story, right so there are trees everywhere. Bushes, low hanging branches and little pathways in between buildings. FYI, there are exactly 81 buildings on campus. Having a lecture in Building 32 and then a tutorial in Building 68 right afterwards with only 10mins gap is a wwwwhole lot of fun. I’m still in the process of perfecting my speed walking skills. In the middle of walking towards the lecture, Mini Skirts suggested that we should take a shortcut. We could walk on the fully pavement way or we could cut across the little paths with the bushes. Cause I was too lazy to walk that much I decided that yeah, this was a good idea. And then the nightmare begun.

I was walking along the path, chatting about something or other, feeling the lovely autumn breeze on my skin and the rustle of my skirt against my knees and thinking to myself “Oh my, what a lovely weather. We never get it this lovely in Malaysia” when I sensed movement at my feet. I looked down and there it was. A fucking biawak by my feet. It was like 3 inches away and I was wearing these open toes gladiator sandals. Sonofabitch!!!! It was about 3 feet long, black skin with green stripes. Green stripes!!!!!!!!!! And it was by my feet!! Dude, I didn’t think long. I screamed and I fucking ran out of there. I remember pulling up my skirt and running cause I was wearing on of those knee lengths, 50s style skirt. Mini Skirts didn’t know what was happening. She heard me screamed so she screamed too and started running. Fuck man, we covered what was supposed to be a 15mins walk in under 5 mins. By the time got to a somewhat “safe” place we were huffing and puffing and at the same time, a security guard was around. He hurried to us and he was like

“Are you girls okay? Did someone attack you? Was it the flasher?”

FYI, apparently there was a flasher round campus area. Hiding in the bushes and jumping out at random intervals to flash girls. No dude, seriously. They sent out an email to everyone’s student email. Campus Security thingie. So I was like

“No no, biawak. Big fucking biawak. By my feet.”

He stared at me. Mini Skirts eyes were bulging out “A biawak attacked us?”

“Miss, what’s a biawak?”

“Ohhhh a lizard. Big fucking lizard. Black, with green stripes. Sharp teeth. OMG, so scary.”

“Ooohhh a Goanna. That’s allright. I thought it was the flasher. Oh lizards are fairly common round these parts. They’re allright. Won’t harm you one bit. Unless you have meat on you.”

“Why was it by my feet?”

“He probably wanted to get to class too.” Then he laughed at his stupid little joke, pats me on the back and told me that it’s all allright.

Sonofabitch.

It was safe to say that I was traumatized by it all. Had nightmares that the biawak was eating my feet for 2 nights afterwards. Then over the weekend, Mini Skirts and I went to the museum. Yeah, the museum. Hey man, I have only been here for 2 weeks. I’m doing the whole tourist thing. And then there it was on the wall, a display of the same damn lizard that attacked me. Okay...maybe "attacked" is a strong word. Let's go with "ambushed". A display of a lizard that ambushed me. Much better. I found a person who works there and she actually went through some books to find some information for us. And here it is, it’s a Lace Monitor. And for your viewing pleasure this is how a lace monitor looks like:

Now tell me if you wouldn’t run screaming into the night if you saw that thing by your feet too. I mean fucking A Scott, I already have lizard issues as it is. And this mofo….according to the wiki page is venomous.

I am scarred for life now.

The Fuckery that is Craiglist

First of all, I want to apologize for the overly emo previous post. God….I didn’t even proof-read that one. Just wrote whatever the fuck I wanted and then clicked post and didn’t even have another look at it. I just read it for the first time like 5 minutes ago and I am cringing from the horror of it all. I mean, holy shit y’all….could I sound even more angsty-emo-teenager then that? Well could I? The answer to that is no my friend, no. Sometimes I hate this blogging thing. You post something without thinking it through then when you finally figure out what kind of fuckery that was…you’re already totally screwed. Cause the 7 and a half people who read your blog already read it and there is no way of taking it back. None. And I said “and a half” cause I’m pretty sure one is a midget.

God, that was a mean joke. I’m sorry for that too. If you are a midget and you are reading this blog…please don’t hate me. Go ahead, make all the fat jokes you could think off. It’s fine. Cause at the end of the day you’re still a midget, I’m still fat and I could sit on you with my giant ass and you will suffocate and die. So don’t cross the line….biatch.

Anyways back to my room hunting. When the Uni rejected my application, they included a list of off-campus accommodations that I could look into. That list almost single-handedly killed me. Seriously. I really did convulsed, fell off the chair and then flopped on the floor like a fish on deck for a while. I only stopped cause my brother said he will kick me if I don’t. Apparently all my convulsing and rolling on the floor was distracting him from watching a Manchester United game. Dude has priorities.

I checked with my bestfriend whose currently studying medicine in Ukraine and she told me that my reaction to the accommodations list is actually a quite common medical reaction. So common in fact that they even have fancy shcmancy Latin name for it. I would tell you the Latin term but I dunno how to spell it so let’s call it by it’s pedestrian name:

“OMGWTF-are-you-Aussie-fucking-with-me?!!$#^#@&!#$??-itis.”

It’s real y’all. It’s a condition experience by international students with the intentions of studying in Aussie upon finding out that in Australia the rent is by a weekly basis and the cheapest room the fucking university can suggest is fucking AUD190 a week. AUD190 bitches! Convert that to Malaysian Ringgit, now times that by 4 and that’s my monthly rent and then times that by 6 cause the shortest lease I could get is a 6 months deal. And since I know you people are lazy as hell let me do it for you.

AUD 190 = RM448

RM448 x 4 = RM1,792 (1 month’s rent)

RM1,792 x 6 = RM10,752 (6 months)

Almost 11k for a 6 months’ rent. Now you see why I was convulsing? Now you see?!! I don’t shit diamonds! If you’re thinking “Hey CD, I thought your family is like well off?” Yes my family is well-off. We are well-off, not filthy rich stoooopid. Our last name do not end with a “Hilton” or “Trump” okay. It ends with some common Malay name. Arrrggghhh!!! 11k for 6 fucking months. Now excuse me for a while…I need to go roll around on the floor a bit. I find convulsing and rolling on the floor strangely soothing these days.

11k. I cannot do to my Dad. I can’t. Need to find a cheaper place. So all chocked up on intense guilt and plague by an inner monologue that goes on something like this: “Tu lah, dulu lepas SPM dapat buat architecture kat UIA tak nak. Nak gak gi private college. Nak gak belajar overseas. Terhegeh-hegeh sangat. Poyoh sangat. Tengok skrg, apa jadi?” over and over again…..I decided to consult the Wise One. I called my sister in Finland. Woman did not answer the phone. I called her again. Still, no answer. In desperation, I went to the Not-So-Wise-One-but-Still-Okay…my brother. Dude was playing some damn football game on the PS3. Doesn’t look good, I can tell you that.

I told him of my predicament and he’s like

“Duuude, Craiglist Australia.”

“Duuude, no.”

“Duuude, you can find cheap rooms for rent there.”

“Duuude, crazy people hangs out on Craiglist.”

“Duuude, you should fit in then. Cause you know…..”

“Know what?”

“Well you’re my little sister……

“……..”

“Okay. You’re my sister and I say this with much love. Ummm, you’re kinda uuhhh….eccentric.”

“Yeah….so what’s your point?”

“Meaning if you’re already halfway crazy, what’s wrong with living with crazy people?”

He has a point. And I resent being called eccentric. Quirky perhaps, but not eccentric. I mean, so what if I still believe that my stuffed toys can communicate with me? Or that my car could possible be a transformer? Or you know….that one time I left a RM50 note in my jeans pocket and completely forgotten about it then one day the money fell out of the pocket and instead of reacting like any other normal person, I was convinced that money was given to me by Shoe Fairies that came into my room in the middle of night. This is a valid theory seeing that Shoe Fairies would totally know how much I wanted these super fabulous pair of shoes so they left me a RM50 note cause adopting shoes into a new home is a worthy cause. I mean….c’mon! Who here have never thought of Shoe Fairies?! Just cause you never heard of them or seen them, doesn’t mean they don’t exist……Wait you know what…on second thought my brother is onto something here.

For those who are not familiar with Craiglist….let’s just say that it is quite notorious. Perhaps the best way to describe it is to quote my friend Farid; “i mean think about all the ppl listed on craigslist. Employers, aspiring actors, hookers, hustlers, rapists, serial killers, paedophiles.” Exact quote. And really, Craiglist is notorious for being the source of all kinds of fuckery. I know this cause I’m addicted to the web and read Best of Craiglist for shit and giggles when I’m bored. I know. My life is so utterly fascinating that I leave you people breathless with my minute-by-minute description of it.

Beggars can’t be choosers, with that in mind I went through Craiglist.au trying to find a place that is quite near to my Uni. I found a couple of rooms that are within the AUD95-180 weekly range. I refuse to go higher then that. So I emailed them, tell them that I’m interested, a lil background info and hope that I haven’t somehow alerted a serial killer with a giant-ass-fetish of my existence. Cause if there is a serial killer with a giant-ass-fetish then I am completely fucked.

The next day I’ve received a couple of replies and you know what, the stories are true. Crazy people do go on Craiglist. I found this place, fully furnished…actually it’s an apartment and the homeowners are leaving the country due to work. They need a housesitter and the place is 20mins away from uni by bus. The rent is AUD110 a week. Not much seeing that when I go there the only thing I have to buy is food and I’ll be living alone in a sweetass apartment. No housemates issues. No privacy issues. They got a flatscreen TV so you know…..

The man wrote back to me and it kinda sounded like this:

“Ms. Drama, I think that we would be a good match. I like that you do not smoke nor drink and listed gardening as one of your interest. We have a little garden that needs tending too. Before we could proceed with anything I would like to interview you via Skype. That is the 2^nd most important thing, the interview. The most important thing that my wife and I need to know before letting you into our home is….Ms. Drama, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour?”

Whoaaa!! Did not see that coming. Turns out he’s a Reverend, off for missionary work in West Africa. And the rest of his email was riddle with “missionary work”, “converting the ignorant” and multiple usage of the word “crusade”. Scared the crap out of me. I mean the hell am I suppose to say?

“No sir, I have not accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour because I’m Muslim. I’m perfectly happy being Muslim as you are being a Christian. But really, must we put such a small thing between us? Can’t we just stand up and hug each other? Honestly, this is not such a big deal like what you are making it out to be so just relax and pass me your keys. I wanna chill at your sweetass place with the flat screen TV. Word to yo mother.

Salam mualaikum.”

The hell! I am not that insane okay. No offence to anyone but overly religious people scares the hell out of me. I don’t care if they’re Muslims or Christians or Buddhist or whatever else, overly religious people- no matter what their religion is, are scary. Fuck man. So I consider that one is a no go. Then I received an email from a girl. I think she’s like a hardcore environmentalist and a vegetarian.

“Hey CD!

Yeah of course the room is still available. But we’re here in this house are vegetarians. Absolutely no meat in the house. No eggs too. And if you have any leather “goods”, please do not bring it into the house. Also we do a lot of fun things here in the house. Every week we came up with new vegetarian organic recipes and sometimes we picket for animal rights. You can come join us if you want.

And oh have you eaten baby seals before? If you have then….this is going to be difficult but I would have to say no. People who eat baby seals are evil and if you’re eaten before then you are evil. We don’t want evil people in the house. Also stray cats come and go here because we feed them. Don’t want them to die of starvation in the alleys now do we? You can have a couple of cats and keep them in your room if you want.

So that’s all. Get back to me ya.”

Uhhhhhh, though this one doesn’t sound as crazy as the first one but still kinda crazy. I have not eaten baby seals but I don’t wanna live with fanatic tree huggers. Fuck that shit. And stray cats come and go on the premises? Dude, sounds like my aunt’s place and my aunt’s place smells like hell cause the stray cats shit everywhere. I don’t want to live in some cat poo dungeon with a bunch of crazy animal rights activist. Fuck that. Then I received another email that make me wipe my hands off Craiglist for all eternity. It’s from some guy named Jack*.

“Oh hello CD, I’m glad that you emailed me.

Yes the room is still available for rent. But it will be the only two of us in the house. I hope you don’t mind that. I work 9 to 5 everyday so I won’t be in your way much. There’s a BBQ and patio and you can use it if you want to entertain friends but just give me the heads up first.

Before we could proceed with anything, I need you to know that I am a nudist. I enjoy walking around the apartment naked. It’s nothing sexual, I just feel comfortable naked. I’m letting you know this because my previous tenant found this disturbing and moved out in anger. I don’t understand what was the big deal is. So I’m just letting you know in case you’re just as uncool as she was.

I walk around naked, you don’t have to be naked if you don’t want too. But if you want too, it would be better. Nudity is not such a big deal you know. We could be naked together.

So email me back if you are still interested.

Regards,

Jack.”

I fucking hate my Uni for rejecting my on-campus accommodations. And I fucking hate my brother too for suggesting Craiglist to me.

"Creepy" is not "romantic"

You know what's creepy? Being stalked. Being stalked is creepy as fuck.





A message to little boys out there:





If you like a girl, come up and talk to her. Do not under any circumstances gather your posse of five and then follow her around a mall. Now in your collective deluded minds, I'm sure stalking a girl as she drools over shoes that she can never afford is romantic. But no it is not. It is the epitome of creepiness. You bitches completely ruin her shoe shopping mojo and it takes a lot to ruin that.





Now you see if you, little boy, is checking a girl out and the girl in question notices that- this is the point where you start flirting. Smiling and looking friendly would go a long way. What don't go a long way is that you are a fucking pussy that rather gather five of your fucking friends and follow her around than actually talking to her. Being followed around by 6 unknown men is not a turn on. In case you did not get that, let the Constantly Dramatic One rephrase:


Being scared is not a turn on.


You stupid piece of shit.


I'm gona go lie down now coz I'm getting a heartburn from the experience.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Lately Dramatic Musings have been getting more traffic than usual, like seriously MORE than usual. We are talking by three digits grouping here instead of the usual one. So that made me wonder: like what is going on? I mean yes, blogging is all bout fulfilling one's narcissistic need but when the traffic flow come from nowhere and in abundance; some questions have to be asked... and answered.

Now apparently the Constantly Dramatic One's bitchy outburst regarding some politicians bashing her precious alma mater have been posted and linked and circulated on the net. Which is pretty amusing really. Apparently a lot of people are thinking that that is one hell of a piece and that I have written and that I am now the mouthpiece for this issue.

WOW.

Saying that however and putting aside that I am a Drama Queen, I think that this is getting out of hand. People, people... the Constantly Dramatic One appreciates the attention and the comments and most especially the traffic but seriously, I have to stress that this is getting out of hand. Understand that the post that was written was just me bitching about things I have found to be annoying and insulting to me. Now if you just would just skulk around my blog you would find similar posts, in the same tone about something or another that irritates me.

I bitch a lot. That's how I roll.

Now, I want to take this moment to point out that, that particular blog post, you know...the one that bring all ya'll here... That is just me, expressing my views and disdain towards something that I found repulsive. Its just that. Opinions. And its great that people are agreeing (some are criticizing, but hey its not like I am holding out for universal popularity) with me on this matter but the linking and the posting and the whole circulating-round-the-web thing has got to stop because its getting creepy. Seriously.

Thank you to everyone who have came my way and found pleasure in what I have written hence simultaneously stroking my ego. Thank you to them who have found what I have written amusing enough to be linked and posted elsewhere - a little bit more traffic is always good. But now I have to ask ya'll to stop coz seriously, this is getting out of hand. And creepy.

I cannot stress how creepy it is.

Now I shall bid you adieu, but before that let the Constantly Dramatic One points out that one scathingly bitchy blog post is not going to change the world. It does however, makes a good read.

Anything bitchy always is.