This is an anticlimax. My bad.

There’s a possibility that my asshole housemate is an evil genius.

 

So picking up from where I left last, I was all gearing up for an argument with Le Fucktard- I was just waiting for Tanya to leave the house. I gave it an hour so round 10pm I left my room to go knock on Le Fucktard’s door so that we can have our “talk” and guess what, fucker wasn’t home. No dude, seriously. His bedroom’s door was open and so was Tanya’s. I wasn’t satisfied so I went downstairs to check the laundry room just in case he was cowering behind the washing machine or something….but nothing. I was home alone.

 

 

Fucker ditched me.

 

 

Dude, I was even more pissed at that point. The fuck. You do not leave the house when I wanna yell at you. You just don’t. Period. I was so pissed I took out the frozen chocolate cake from the freezer and started eating. Emotional eating yo. Do you know how frustrating it is to look forward to yelling at someone and finding out the fucker wasn’t home? Wah, damn frustrating okay. I went to bed angry that night.

 

 

But I didn’t get a real good sleep cause my throat have been sore for the last few days. I think the frozen chocolate cake was the last straw cause I was pretty much coughing and clearing my throat all night long. Then at about 2am there was a knock on my bedroom’s door. I know it was 2am cause I go to sleep with my mobile phone okay. At first I thought I was hallucinating and then I heard it again. The knock.

 

 

On my bedroom’s door.

 

At 2 in the morning.

 

 

At first I thought “Oh, NOW he wanna have the talk? Fucker.” Then it occurred to me that people don’t talk at 2 in the morning. Which bring me to the next logical explanation in my still drugged with sleep mind- he’s outside my door. With a knife. And the moment I open the door he gonna stab me cause he is a psycho and he is pissed with me. Dude, I totally woke up at that point. I was like “Shit! Shit! I have no exit strategy! Ohmygod ohmygod! The window has bars on it…..maybe if I kick it really hard I can still get away.” And then he knocked again.

 

 

There’s nothing else I could do but to open the door. I opened it slowly and he was standing there, but instead of holding a knife to stab me with….he was holding a bottle of cough medicine. I stared at him.

 

 

“Hey, I was downstairs watching the TV. I can hear you from down there. You sound pretty bad.”

 

I just stared at him.

 

“I got this cough syrup. It could make you feel better.”

 

Even in my paranoia induced mind I realize something: "This fucker is goooood." Oh man, he gonna be one smooth ass lawyer.

 

So I was like “No, I’m okay. My mom gave me like a whole bag of medicine before she left. So yeah, I got it covered.”

 

“You sure? Do you need Strepsils or something? Cause I think 7/11 is still open. I can go get it for you.”

 

Oh yeah….he is goooooood.

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

So we just stood there, staring at each other. Me still dry coughing, he in all his evil mastermind glory. And I did the only thing I could. I gave him his chocolate bunny. You see, it’s Easter now and there are chocolate bunnies all over the place. About a week ago I bought 2 chocolate bunnies for him and Tanya, as a gesture of goodwill. This was before the whole not-cleaning-after-himself-fuckery. I already gave Tanya hers but because I was pissed with Chris, I decided that I am not gonna give him his bunny. I’m gonna eat it myself. Fucker won’t be getting any bunny from me. But the hell, he was standing there at 2am with cough medicine okay.

So I gave him his bunny.

 

“Oh thanks CD. Do you celebrate Easter though?”

 

“No, but you do. Enjoy your bunny. I’m gonna try go to sleep now. Nites.”

 

So I went to sleep again, not knowing whether I should be happy that I am still alive and not stabbed to death….or be wary cause my asshole housemate is an evil mastermind.

 

 

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.

So very punk rock...but was it worth it?

I was watching some lameass True Hollywood Story on E! when my mom, oh so nonchalantly, mentioned that she and my dad would be going to a wedding this weekend. I can’t help but groaned as loudly as I can. I hate being forced to attend weddings.

“Siapa lak nak kahwin ni? Adik kena ikut ke? Malas lah mak….”
Who is getting married? Must I go? I’m soooo lazy to go….

“Hakim*, anak Kak Ina*.”
Hakim*, Kak Ina’s son.

“………………………..Bukan Hakim baru SPM ke hari tu?”
…………………………Didn’t Hakim sat for SPM this year?

“Uh huh”

“Mak. Kalau dia SPM tahun ni…bukan budak tu 17 ke?”
Mom, if he sat for SPM this year…wouldn’t that makes him 17?

“Uh huh.”

“Maaaaak!! Mak serious ke ni? Jangan main-main Mak. Adik dah macam nak pengsan dah ni. Giler ah. Budak tu 17 kan?”
Moooom! Are you serious? Don’t toy with me. I feel like I’m gonna faint now. This is crazy! The kid is 17!

“Eh, buat apa lak Mak nak tipu kau?”
Why would I want to lie to you?

Dude, how fucking insane is that? As scandalous and glamorous Keanu Reeves life was according to E!, it is nothing compared to finding out that your 17 year old nephew is getting married okay. Wait, his mom is my cousin…so that makes him my nephew right? Or is that second cousin? Whatevs. In any event it is still fucking insane. I followed my mom around the house for like half a day before she told me the story. However I feel like she is not telling me the whole thing, she just gave me the condense version. As if I’m a child whose innocence still needs to be protected. Oh God Mom, the age of innocence for me has ceased to exist a loooong time ago. Anyways, this is the story I managed to coax out of her:

So apparently my 17 year old nephew has a girlfriend. Apparently, they were also horny as fuck. Being horny as fuck and also stupid as fuck- in my opinion; they decided to uhhh….consummated their “love” in her bedroom. So apparently, the girl’s father caught them and held him at the point of a parang saying that if he doesn’t marry her, he’s gonna report it as rape. So that’s why they’re having a shotgun wedding (nikah bidan terjun) this weekend.

Dude, I told you it’s the condensed version. I kept on asking my mom for details. I was like “Uuhhh so were they like…uh doing it when the father walked in?” When the father threatened him with a parang, was he naked and running around the house?” “Was she naked?” “Was the Dad naked?” I mean seriously, I need details here to draw out the visual re-enactments in my head okay. But my Mom was all offended by the questions. I mean I have this image in my head, I can describe it to you but I rather write it out like a bad script from a trashy telenovela…






Guy: Mi amore! How I have yearned for your kisses, your caress, your luuuuurrvve….
Girl: Oh si si, I too have thirst for you. My luuurve, my moon and stars. Your flesh on mine. Your luuuurve in me.
Guy: Such sweet words my luurve. You are like a vision in a dream. A Goddess among mortals. I’m sooo damn horny I cannot even walk straight right now.
Girl: I cannot tahan anymore. I’m soo horny, I’m slurring my words. I am sooo drunk for your love. Now mi amore!! NOW!!”

***Please use your imagination for this part. I know you can. Pervs.***

Guy: Was that as good for you as it was for me? *lights a cigarette*
Girl: Better baby, better…I dunno why we waited for so long. Let’s go for another round…
Guy: Si mi amore, si………wait! What’s that? Do I hear footsteps…….”


***Bedroom door flew opens***


Father: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!!!
Guy: Oh crap.
Father: YOU!!! SCUM OF EARTH!! SPAWN OF SATAN!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGTHER?
Guy:…..Uh well…she did things to me too you know….
Father: SILENCE!!! *grabbed a parang that just so happens to be lying around in the doorway* YOU SHALL PAY FOR DEFILING MY DAUGHTER! DIE FIEND!!!
Girl: No Papa!! I love him!
Father: SILENCE WENCH! *backhands daughter* I SHALL DEAL WITH YOU ONCE I’M DONE CUTTING OFF HIS PENIS WITH MY SHINY PARANG.
Guy: Oh noes! Not my penis!

***Boy tries to run away but his feet got caught up in the sheet***
***Father caught him by the hair and held his parang up to Boy’s neck***

Father: YOUR LIFE FOR HER VIRTUE
Guy: Dude…..a tad melodramatic aren’t we?
Father: YOU DARE MOCK ME? DO YOU WANT ME TO CUT OFF YOUR PENIS?
Guy: Anything! Anything but my penis. It has only been properly used once…
Father: FINE I WON’T CUT IT OFF. BUT YOU SHALL MARRY HER OR I WILL CUT YOUR PENIS OFF AND TELL EVERYONE THAT YOU RAPE HER. MWAHAHAHA!

***lightning and thunder outside***



…..Okay…so maybe it did not went like that. Maybe they were in the throes of passion when the father walked in. Maybe she was screaming “Yes Daddy! YES!” and then the father walked in going “Yes to what Princess?.....SWEET BABY JESUS!! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!!!” Or maybe…you know what…..I should stop telling you people of all the scenarios in my head. Every one of them sounds like a bad porno shot in someone’ basement.


But really, how fucking stupid are these kids? Yes, yes…I understand that you have raging teenage hormones. Yes, yes you’re horny. Yes, yes the desire to...copulate is unbearable. Yes, I understand. I understand how it feels like to be perpetually horny but yet sexually repressed due to the boundaries set by religion and culture. Yes. I know. Trust me. No one knows it better then I do. Just take my word for it. But really guys, I understand how punk rock it is to….fornicate in her room but the risk is not worth it now is it? I mean, if you guys are so hard up- save some money, I bet there are some cheapass motels by the roadside. The backseat of a car. An abandon shack. Under the pier. On the beach…though I won’t recommend that cause I have it on good authority that the vagina itches like hell when mixed with sand. I mean, kalau desperate sangat, semak belakang rumah tu pun ok gak kan?


Stupid fuckers. Literally.


Now, in no way am I condoning underage sex but man, married at 17? They’re nothing more than kids man. I’m older then that and I’m still a kid. Seriously, they’re both waiting to be accepted to the universities of their choice. What happens then? When they go, they gonna meet other people. Oh God, sooo messy. And if they’re stupid enough to get caught by her own father no less, I bet they’re too stupid to think of birth control as well. So…a baby within a year….Parents at the age of 18. My head is reeling from this.

Man, I feel sad for that kid. A stupid mistake. One lousy mistake but one that he have to carry for the rest of his life. I hope for his sake, the sex was spectacular cause marriage at 17, before you life even get the chance to begin properly is just not worth it.

Of things that are pissing me off during the finals: Part 3

Listen you worthless piece of shit, I do not know which country you are from but I’m from Malaysia. And in this country, most of us drive like fiends from Hell. So riddle me this asswipe, why the hell are you driving like a pussy when you’re in the fast lane? Seriously.


I understand that there is a speed limit. Yes I know, 110km/j on the fucking highway. But here’s the deal, everyone who drives on the fastlane, none of us abide by that. None of us. Personally the slowest I ever been- when the fucking road is relatively empty- is 160km/j. So again, why in the fucking blue hell is your slow ass on the fastlane? My car is red in colour bitch. When my Dad bought it for me, it says there “Extreme red”. Don’t tell me your eyes can’t see my “extreme red” car from miles away going 180? Can’t you move your ass fast enough for me to get through? If you really feel like you need to drive like a fucking pussy, then please direct your slow ass to the slow lane. Not the fast lane.



I have an exam to get too. Now the fact that my paper starts at 4pm and I left my house at 3.30pm when I live about 40km away from college is a non-issue. What is an issue here is that your drive like a pussy. People have places to get too, things to meet, people to do…or did I get that wrong…but the fact that mattered is, your pussy driving is in the way. If you can’t locate the fucking acceleration pedal in your motherfucking car why in the fucking blue hell are you on the fast lane?



Now, see I don’t like tailgating people. I heard in the radio they say that that shit is actually road bullying. And bullying is not cool under any circumstance. But when you are going what, 90km/j on the motherfucking fast lane and not moving your ass fast enough for me get through, it pisses me off. And on the road, I get piss off really fast. I’m sorry if I scared you when I tailgated your ass for maybe 12kms even when you’ve already switched lane. You fucking deserve it. If your ass have no bizniz on the fastlane, then don’t get on it on the first place.



Thanks to your pussy driving, I was 5 mins late for my paper. If I ever see you on the road again- I will end you bitch.


***

Whenever a guy hits on me, I make sure that I am always pleasant and never rude. I understand that it takes a lot of guts for a guy to come up and talk to a chick. Especially ones that have a default-bitch-face like mine. I can never go up to a guy and ask him out because I do not have the balls for it. Literally and figuratively speaking. So when a guy hits on me, I try to make it pleasant for the both of us but will still definitely drive the point home that: “Yes, I am single” but “No, I am not available.”

It gets to me when these dudes just do not fucking get it. Hey asshole, just because I was pleasant to you doesn’t mean I want to suck your dick tonight mmmkay? It just means that I am considerate. Just because I do not tell you to fuck off and die doesn’t mean you should pressure me for my fucking phone number. I do not want to give it to you. You are an asshole. Harassing me will not make me fall madly and deeply in love with you.




Thank you so much for the douchebaggery you inflicted on me. I now have lost all faith in men and will now join the Carpet Munchers team.

***

I have disabled my “Add as Friend” button on Facebook. I cannot fucking take it anymore. I cannot take it when college freshmen and juniors hit me up over FB just randomly wants to add me as friend. Listen, some people who live in the virtual world, yeah those people who wants “popularity”, yeah those bitches are the ones with 100, 000++ friends. I am not those people. I only add people whom I know and like. The people I add are actually, shockingly, my friends. People I actually have some contact with, have a decent conversation with.


Me telling you to shut the fuck up in class because I was trying to sleep does not make a proper conversation. Me telling you to get out of my way, do not make us friends. We sharing one class, when I don’t even notice that we were in fact- sharing a class - does not make us friends. Stop trying to add me. I will not be part of your quest to achieve online immortality.



I now have disabled my “Add as Friend” button. I also deleted 77 people off my FB, ones that I have been arsed into adding. If you’re not my friend, or frenemy, I have no interest whatsoever in getting up to date with your life.

Now, step away from the computer and go live your life in the real world.

***

Also, can someone explains what fuckkery is this?




It keeps on popping out now and then. Pissing me off. Why is it doing that though?




Footnotes:

For part 1 of things that are pissing me off during the finals: click this.

For part 2: click this.

I'm happy, therefore I can't bitch

Sorry for the lack of updates. It seems that the Constantly Dramatic One have hit a writer's block. Also it must be noted that recent events in my life have made me ridiculously happy. And y'all know what it means when I'm happy right?

It means I cannot bitch about anything to save my life. No really, which kinda sucks donkeys balls. Being cheerful takes away my bitchy edge. Can I have both together at the same time? Why can't I be bitchy yet happy? Why? Also this whole being cheerful business is cramping my style, but I can't help it dammit.....I'm happy.

So with that I am opening the floor. I want you guys, including my sayang to come up with topics in which you guys want me to blog about. Anything at all, if I like it...... I'll give my $17,000,000 thoughts on it. Your thoughts cost 2 cents, mine cost $17,000,000...........it comes with being ossum. Which I clearly am and you are not. Also sayang, if you want me to list of reasons on why I am so much better than you in every way that is possible, or a list of Fat Lesbian Porn, which I know you masturbates to on a daily basis, I would be more than happy to oblige.

Anything to keep the love between us alive, sayang.

So here goes, comment box: thoughts, ideas, topics, anything at all. If I like it, I'll write about it and link to your blog. What say you? Help out a fellow blogger in a writer's block, eh?

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.

College policy, my ass

Dude, I fucking hate the parking attendants in my fucking college. Fucking piece of shit assholes.


I am so sick and tired of getting oggled at when I walk towards my car. I am sick and tired of getting hit on whenever I pay for the tickets. I hate that disgusting leering stare and bitch, I know the fact you asked me for my "Full name and student ID" isn't college policy. What kind of bullshit is that? "I need your Full name and ID or you cannot leave this parking lot". What in the fucking blue hell is that? Huh?!!! You fucking piece of shit. I asked around and apparently this new college policy only applies to me. You think I'm stupid? Good thing I just glared at you until you got scared enough to lift up the barrier so that I could leave.


I hate to sound like a spoilt, condescending bitch but excuse me, I'm the one pursuing tertiary education here, not sitting in a fucking parking booth coming up with some bullshit plan to get names off students. And given the circumstance, I highly doubt that I'm the stupid one. On Monday, I am gonna take a fucking pic of you on my mobile phone and than march down to the college admin.


I'm fucking taking you down for sexual harassment you piece of shit son of a whore.

I iz stalking jooooooooo

So I'm kinda been.....stalking a guy. Okay. Shit. That comes out wrong. Let me rephrase. I am stalking a guy's blog. A hot guy's blog. Smokin hot. I kinda been doing it since like...uuhh......last year. But before this post enter a brand new realm of fucked up creepiness, let me explain.

He is a firefighter.

Ahhhhh, it makes sense now, doesn't it? He is a smokin hot firefighter. Now how I stumbled upon his blog is pretty much a typical story of the blogsphere. I was bloghopping, reading comments when I noticed one of the display pictures were of a firefighter's hat. Now my fetish respect for the firefighter's hat is well documented on this blog, as long time readers would know. Dude, all you have to do is put a firefighter's hat on your display pic and I will Google your name up and then try to Google Earth your house. Basically stalk the crap out of you. It is as simple as that.

So don't tempt me.






The thing about his blog is...it's kinda....well blah. Dude can't write for shit. Actually I think he's a himbo. But what he lacks in writing he make do in pictures. His pictures. And his friends. In uniform............................OhmyGod, it is so hot that I cannot even think straight. It's like p0rn, but much better. Cause there's no naked chicks that are hotter than me but just firefighters in uniforms. Sometimes he put up pictures of him and his friends, in full uniform on the firetruck. When he does that, I usually just shut off the PC and then proceed to take a looooong, cold, icy shower.




See, I told you this post is going to be creepy as hell.






But lately he haven't been updating. This is common because sometimes he gets busy rescuing kitties out of tress that he doesn't blog. But then when I went to check out his blog the last time it was missing!! Motherfucker. Really it was. Just gone. Poof! Like no goodbyes. No "I'll be moving to Wordpress cause Blogspot sucks donkey balls". Nothing. Just gone.





This is pissing me off. First of all, yes I have been stalking him without him knowing but I am long time reader, bitch. I deserve to know if he is going to terminate his blog. At least that way I can line up another firefighter to stalk. Of course, I wont expect him to write "Dear crazy stalker chick from Malaysia, I know you're stalking my tight ass. Because of that I feel morally violated and will no longer put up pictures of my tight ass on firetrucks so that you can have you long, cold, icy showers afterwards. And I'm taking my hat with me. xoxo Super-hot-firefighter-with-tight-ass." Of course I am not expecting that but a nice little farewell note would be much appreciated.


Fucker.


So now it has been 3 weeks since his blog disappeared from the wonderful world of blogshphere. I have come to terms with it. I have mourn the loss of seeing his firefighter hotness on a weekly basis. I am ready to move on therefore I am scouring the net for other blogs belonging to hot firefighters. You guys know any? I need my fix.

No, seriously.

1000....really?

Holy Mother of all that is pure and true! I now have 1000 tagged photos of me on Facebook. I say "tagged" cause some are just so fug that I untagged them but...but.....How the hell did this happened? 1000? Duuuudeee.......

I'm a mega camwhore. Super duper one. When I die they probably gonna write this on my tombstone:

The Constantly Dramatic One

Sept 21st 198* -

Daughter. Sister. Friend. Drama Queen. Sexay Penguin.

Purdy Sunflower. Mega Camwhore.

You know they totally would....

So wrong...so damn wrong....

OMFG y'all. This is so wrong. So wrong. So fucking wrong. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG. I am so disturbed.



So you know how I don't own a laptop and I use the family PC to get online and stuff. So the PC is situated in what used to be the study area, it's the study area because the tuition teacher used to come and teach me English here. And also it has a whiteboard and a library so hence we call it "study area". The study area also happens to be situated right outside of my room and my sister's room.



So it's 3 fucking o'clock in the morning. I am surfing the net, stalking people on Facebook- it's the semester break. I don't sleep till sunrise yo....when I heard moaning from my sister's room. Seeing that it's 3 in the morning, my brain is not functioning all that good but dude, my sister moved out. There's no one in her room. OMG wtf? Is that a ghost?



Then it occurred to me that she's sleeping over for the weekend.


With her husband.



In her room.










































Dude, that's my sister.
I am so disturbed right now......

Mah bukkit! You be stealin mah bukkit!

Dude, Langkawi was awesome!


We drove around the whole island, got attacked by monkeys (little piece of shit bastards), I got asked out by a man in uniform (thank you 3kc!), ate a whole lot of sea food and cheese (shout out to Adrienne!), saw penguins in some weird penguin-god worshipping ritual, tried not to run over pedestrians who walk in the middle of the street like little bastards, take a shitload of pictures, encountered a foot ghost...no seriously- a foot ghost, frolic around in the sea in my new swimsuit, exposed my ass to a whole a beach, try to run down a group of monkeys with the car, develop an unhealthy relationship with a...bukkit, ahem......kok besar (wink wink nudge nudge Cheesecakeerian =p), and get thrown out of a hotel.


All in all a fucking great holiday yo.


As for pictures, y'all have to wait cause I barely took photos on my own camera. Why? Cause I'm the idiot who fully charged the battery and then forgot to put it in the camera. That's why. So I have to wait for the rest to send theirs to me. Longer post later but for now the bed beckons and my legs hurts like a bitch from all that hiking.


Ta!

The one that was supposed to be published on June 6th.....

The following post was supposed to be published on Friday, June 6th. But before I managed to do that I was hit with some kind of early-twenties-life-crisis, which I rather not talk about but have left me felling depressed for the whole of last week.





Issues. I haz dem.





In any event, things are looking up now...somewhat. I have scheduled a meeting with the college therapist because you know, calling Befrienders help line and crying to strangers in the middle of the night has lost its appeal. And totally raking up the phone bill. The college therapist however, is confidential and free. Keyword being "free". Even in turmoil, the Constantly Dramatic One is a cheapskate.


Consider the following post a time machine if you must, let it take it back to last last Friday, to the time when I haven't had any fucking issues. Well not as much anyways.

And oh- I'm back, bitches.



***********************************
Friday, June 6th 2008



Its like this whole week I have been getting screwed by members of the opposite sex. And not in ways that I desire to be screwed either. Ahem. *buffs nails*




So let's recap: On Monday, I the Constantly Dramatic One had a very awkward situation involving a dude whom I faked numbered. Situation have not really improve since than seeing that I still act like I'm constipated around him. On Wednesday, I decided to go window shopping on my own and ended up being followed around by six men. The fear I felt might have cut my lifespan short by seven years. And then yesterday, I got screwed yet again.... by another member of the opposite sex.


And no, still not in the way I desired to be screwed.


I was sitting on my own, minding my own business.....studying for a quiz that's coming on next Monday when out of sudden someone begun massaging my shoulders. Okay massaging is an exaggeration. More like two squeeze at the shoulders but still.....


"You look so tense CD, and its only the second week."


I turned around and it was that kid that I had a dream about. You know....that dream. I freaked like crazy. I was trying to avoid his touch that I turned around so quickly; I almost fell of the chair. I was already half away to the floor when I grabbed onto the table which simultaneously save my face from having a direct contact with the floor and humiliating myself. If I would have slipped off my chair, I would have forever branded myself as a dumbass within the hallways of my college.


"Are you okay? Why are you freaking out?"
"I'm not freaking out. Who says I'm freaking out?"
"You face almost hit the floor."
"Human error."
"Riiiiggghhht.....that chair taken up?"


Before I could say anything, the son of a bitch sat his ass down right next to me. There are 3 other empty chairs at the table. But nooooooooo, he just had to sit next to me. Son of a bitch.




"Why are you sitting so near to me?"
"I'm not sitting near to you."
"Yes you are."




Okay truth be told he wasn't sitting that near. He was like an arm's length away but considering the nature of the dream that I had about him....an arm's length is like.....vulgar. Its awkward okay. I don't want him to sit next to me!! So I ignore him and pretended to be soooo into reading my textbook.




"What are you reading?"
"Book."


Then his face appeared out of nowhere next to mine. So fucking close. I almost died.


"What are you reading?"
"Dude, why the hell are you so nosy?"
"Why are you being so weird?"
"I'm PMSing. My hormones are all over the place!"
"Oh........."


*Awkward silence.*

"So I can get back to my book now?"
"Yeah.....................CD......"
"What?"
"What's PMS?"



...................................OMG!!!!!!! I can't believe I had a sex dream about him!!!!!! What kind of dumbass doesn't know what a PMS is?!! I mean honest to God?! Seriously. No wonder I feel awkward, its like I raped him in my sleep. A child, a mere child. "What's PMS?". Good god.


Talk about sexually repressed. Me. Not him. Coz you know.....He probably still thinks that babies get delivered by storks.

Juvenile? Moi?

I am being a juvenile little bitch by refusing to talk to my sister and her husband.

The reason? My sister and I was supposed to go out for lunch on Thursday but she cancelled at the last minute coz the husband got sick. Completely valid reason.

But I'm still not gonna talk to her. Coz I'm a juvenile little bitch.

I am ashamed of myself.

But being ashamed of myself is not gonna stop me from sulking.

What's the appeal?

My parents have begun pressuring my sister and her husband to have babies. My parents apparently really, really want to become grandparents. I personally think this is icky. Its like every time they say; "Ooohh we want grandchildren." they're telling them to have more sex. Its wrong okay. Parents don't ask that of their children. Every time this topic is mention when we go out for dinner, I cringe.


Like "we want grandchildren" = "go have more sex that resulting in our firstborn to be impregnated". I am sure my parents are aware of the activity that involves making babies. How they would know about that, I really, really, reaaaaaaly do not want to know. But I am making an educated guess here that they do. So I mean, come on. Am I the only one seeing this?



The Constantly Dramatic One doesn't like children. In my opinion they are annoying little buggers with sticky finger that should always -at all times- be at least 20 feet away from me. Its not like that I hate children, although it might come off like that I just merely do not know how to deal with them. In order to interact with people, I use my charming personality and my witty observations on life. I cannot do this with children seeing that they have yet to develop the mental capacity. But once they do, I'm completely cool with them. Once my nieces and nephews (the children of my cousin, they're still my nieces and nephews right? Or are they my second cousins? Meh.) hit the 11 year old mark and quite capable or conversation, they no longer have to obey the 20-feet-away rule. They can come and roll with me.


Its the little ones. I don't get it when people, especially women, ooohs and ahhhs when they see little babies. I know some women who thinks all babies are cute, just because they're babies. I hate the burst your bubble hun, but some babies are just ugly. And annoying. Toddlers are annoying. Observe:



Oouuuuu I'm hungry. Feed me. *cries*
I'm so cute. Pat me. *cries*
Like everyone have to take care of me even though they have other things to do. *cries*
Oh I cannot eat properly and there's stains everywhere. *cries*





Annnnnnoooying. What is their appeal? Why do people like them? Some of them are cute. I agree. But from afar. Kids are only cute from afar. They are only cute when they don't have their sticky fingers all over my outfit. They are only cute when they are not tugging my hair. They are only cute when they obey the 20-feet rule. People that need constant attention and undivided adoration irritates the hell out of me. This is why I don't like children. Also I don't like dogs because of the same reason. Clingy.



After all this you'll be surprised to know that I do want to have a kid. One child. Only one. I'll use a surrogate mother so that I don't have to squeeze him/her out of my vagina. That shit hurts man. Also no breast feeding. The only one that have full access to my nipples is Clive, stuff the kid. I'll send him/her to a boarding school in Timbuktu.... or Bora Bora- depends on which one I can afford, which of course sufficiently keeps the kid's sticky fingers away from my hair. Then when the kid turns 13, he/she can come home and gets to know Mommy.


Its a plan.

Waiting

I wanna blog. I do. I want to talk about this bitch that pisses me off recently but my natural ability to bitch have been made redundant by knowing the fact that results is coming out on Friday. So yeah. No blogging.

I just wanna crawl into bed and die.

Shit.

I'm sick. I can't speak. I lost my voice completely yesterday and today I can only whisper instead of actually speaking. I have flu. I'm running a fever. My head is spinning thanks to a huge headache. I'm generally feeling like shit. Than seeing where I've been, I checked the symptoms for HIV.


"Some people who contract HIV experience very strong symptoms, but others experience none at all. Those who do have symptoms generally experience fever, fatigue, and, often, rash. Other common symptoms can include headache, swollen lymph nodes, and sore throat. These symptoms can occur within days or weeks of the initial exposure to the virus during a period called primary or acute HIV infection." ***Taken from HIV Insite.com


I'm going for a HIV check up tomorrow. I'm scared.

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.