Thank you and goodnight

A lot of things happened this year didn’t it? Good things, bad things, mundane things…but a lot nonetheless. I voted for the first time in my life, my sister left for Finland and my brother came back, I went to Penang, Langkawi and Redang- all 3 trips with good friends, saw a foot ghost, I was a Pink Lady, had a medical revelation that changed my life and how I viewed it, I ended my college stint in Malaysia, my Dad thinks he's a ninja…a lot of things.

 

But this post isn’t about a summation of what 2008 was for me, the Constantly Dramatic One. It is for you, Drama Lovers.

 

I want to thank all of you who actually spend their time reading my blog. You have no idea how humbling it is to realise…to know that people actually take the time of their daily lives to sit in front of the computer and read up on what I have to say. There are millions of blogs out there, millions....but somehow you people made time to read mine. Some of you even leave comments and mailed me when I went on a hiatus. To be able to write freely, and for people to like what you write......is just so exhilarating and humbling at the same time.

 

I remember when I started blogging in Jan 2007, no one read this blog. I had no hits. I remember the first comment I had and how happy I am that someone actually read what I wrote. And then for some reason or another; readers came and I had more hits and more comments. I still find it unbelievable when people mail me and tell me how much they like what I wrote or that how funny or entertaining I am. The fact that people read my grammatically-challenged bullshit is so ridiculously incredible, that some of the time I can’t even get my head around it.

 

So again, thank you for the kind words, the mails…and just generally taking the time off your fabulous life to read my blog. I really, truly appreciate it.

 

As for my haters, I want you to know that I never hated you, any one of you. I think people are entitled to their opinion, that’s why I approved all the vulgar, offensive comments that you haters ever left me. It is your right, your prerogative to hate me and I take no offence in that. Again I stress that I do not hate you. The way I look at it, for every 5 people who like you there must be another 3 that hates you. That's just how the universe works. Friends flatter you with words of praises but your enemies are the ones who tell you to your face of what you are. Your shortcomings and your flaws and I think it’s worth listening. I would prefer more constructive criticism, more then “Oh you soooo fat and ugly! I hope you die fat bitch!”…but I just take what I can get. So haters, I forgive you. 

So thank you once again everybody. I appreciate it. Here’s to another year full of never-ending stupidity, intrigue, scandals, delusions, bitchings, Clive Owen obsession, firemen fetish, ossumness and perpetual drama. Party it up tonight and wake up well tomorrow...for tomorrow is a new day to bitch about something or other. 

 Happy New Year! Hugs for everyone!

 

hugs, kisses and all that jazz,

the Constantly Dramatic One

 

 

My mama always say, stupid is as stupid does....

When you were young, I'm sure you've done your fair share of stupid shit. I mean, it's only natural for us to experiment with stupidity before we embark on a life of pseudo-intellectualism. This is not the case with the Constantly Dramatic One because sadly, I am still stuck at that stupid level.

 

Anyways, today I want to take a trip down stupidity lane. I think this should be a like a new section in Dramatic Musings. It should be a section in which I highlight my adventures into stupidity. Which is really often. Half the damn time I found myself caught in something so ridiculously absurd and stupid, that there are no words to even explain it. One of my aunts, who sadly have passed away due to leukaemia, once told me that stupid things only happen to stupid people because smart people are too smart to get caught in stupid things. I wonder if she tells this to all her nieces and nephews or just to me cause she knows what was coming. Guess I will never get the chance to ask her that.

 

 

Let me tell you of the really stupid shit I have done. Back in school I had this really close friend, let’s call her Nessa*. Anyways Nessa and I was really close, the type that still call to talk on the phone after school, private nicknames for each other…that type you know. So one day Nessa gave me a gift, just out of the blue. Turns out it was a book, I can’t remember what the title was, but it had two teenage girls dancing on the beach on the cover. The Constantly Dramatic One, being the Constantly Dramatic One, decided that somehow those two girls represented Nessa and I. The book was about these two bestfriends who were really tight and then one of them got cancer and this is the story of how the friends stayed together through everything. Eventually the other girl dies and the one that survives realise that she could never have another friend as good as her.

 

I remember finishing the book at round 2.30ish in the morning and crying my eyes out. I was like “OMG, Nessa has cancer! This is why she gave this book! She couldn’t tell me the truth cause she’s scared so she gave me this instead!!" Now, please bear in mind that this was the era before every Tom, Dick and Harry had a mobile phone so I couldn’t actually call her house phone at 2am now can’t I? Her mom would kick my ass. So the next day in school, the moment I saw Nessa, I gave her like a really tight hug and I said:

 

“It’s okay Nessa, it’s okay. I love you and I understand and I will be there with you every step of the way. If you need to go to chemo, I will go with you. Every step of the way.”

 

“CD, what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“The book Nessa! The book! You have cancer.”

 

“What?!!”

 

“Well….you gave me the book remember? About the bestfriends and then one of them have cancer and….I know this is your way of telling me.”

 

“Woman! I don’t have cancer!”

“Well I don’t have cancer either. Why did you give me the book then if not to tell me something?”

 

“I just thought that the cover is pretty and I wanna buy you something pretty. I don’t have cancer.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Fucking stupid okay. Fucking, fucking stupid. Sometimes a book is just a book. Okay and then you guys remember when I was in Grease right? So there was this one dance rehearsal that we had to go to and for practicality’s sake I always make sure that I wear proper attire when I go to these rehearsals. The thing was….I forgot that it was in fact a dance rehearsal; I thought we were doing lines that day. So….I wasn’t dressed properly. When I say wasn’t dressed properly, I mean I was wearing this flimsy demi-cup bra instead of sports bra.

 

 

Dude, bad fucking mistake. Seriously.

 

 

The choreographer made us jumped up and reached as high up as we could. So that’s what I did, I jumped and reached as high as I could…and then my boob popped out. I really wish that I’m making this up…but no. I am not. Oh God. Okay to be fair I was wearing a shirt, that even when the boob popped out, said boob was still inside the shirt and not out for the whole world to see. Thank God for small miracles like that. But holy crap, I panicked okay. Wouldn’t you if your boob popped out? Dude, the rest of the rehearsal was like this haze of paranoid “Holy fuck! Is my boob popping out again?” and I kept on petting my girls to check if they’re in place. Until at one point one of the girls from the cast came up to me said “CD, can you please stop touching your breasts? The boys are watching.”

 

 

See, told you I do stupid shit.

 

 

I am one of those people who are not into gadgets and cars. I just don’t care. When anyone discuses one of these things, I listen but I don’t really care. It’s like white noise. Doesn’t concern me one bit, so yeah…whatevs. Over the years I came to learn that there is this super awesome vehicle called “Bimmer” and that it’s supposed to be really awesome with supreme horse power, very expensive, bla bla bla and that if you drive it then you are like totally cool. So in my mind, I equated it like this: Expensive + fast + supposedly “cool” = Bimmer. It never occurred to me to Google up Bimmer to see how it looks like or in fact, if it was the car’s actual name. I just don’t care.

 

Then last year, I invited my college friends for Aidilfitri. One of my friends took one look at our driveway and he said

 

“Wow CD! You have a Bimmer?”

 

“No dude, we don’t have a Bimmer.”

 

“But I saw one in the driveway. The silver one.”

 

“Oh…that’s not a Bimmer. That’s a BMW.”

 

Total, complete silence.

 

And then those creatures I call friends started laughing like the bitches that they are and I don’t understand why. I was like “Oh, did I say something funny?” Apparently, I did. Apparently, BMWs are Bimmers. It’s the same shit. How the fuck am I supposed to know that? No one ever told me that it’s the same shit. We don’t refer to my mom’s car as “Bimmer” or “BMW”- we always call it “Mom’s car”. Example:

 

 “No CD, you cannot drive Mom’s car.” OR

 “Mom’s car is much more expensive than your car so you cannot drive it CD” OR

 “There’s a reason why you can’t drive Mom’s car, cause its 'Mom’s car' and not 'your car'.”

 

See? My whole family never let me live this one down; they think it is the funniest shit ever. My sister phone home and goes “Hey CD! Have you seen a Bimmer today? It’s in our driveway! Haha!” Like…oooh, so fucking funny. Its like 2 bucks a minute to call from Finland to Malaysia and woman waste it on that. And she’s a lawyer. You would think a lawyer would not be as juvenile, right?

 

 

So why am I telling you all this? Simple. This is my New Year’s resolution:

 

 

the Constantly Dramatic One’s 2009 New Year Resolution

 

1)    Stop committing random acts of stupidity. Stop it. Just fucking stop it.

 

That’s it. Just one. If I can go though 2009 without any stupid shit, then 2009 would be a great success. Wait, you know what…I got more.

1. Stop committing random acts of stupidity.
   
2. Do not get my ass thrown in jail. (This is possible. I wholeheartedly believe that I am capable of committing big scale white collar crime. Seriously.) (I also believe that if I do get my ass thrown in jail...I'll be someone's bitch in 30 seconds, flat.)
   
3. Do not buy high powered, long range binoculars just to stake out a firehouse….with hot firemen in it. (Note to self: No matter what the voices in your head are saying, just don’t CD. Just don’t.)
4. Stop kicking doors open while shouting “This is Sparta!”…. and spraining toes in the process.
5. Have hot, kinky sex with Clive Owen.

 

 

Right, okay. Those are my resolutions for 2009. What’s yours?

 

*******

 

P/S: Comment moderation is off cause my internet is being a bitch. Friends, you know the drill: no names, no universities, no countries, no towns- no details. Haters, have a field day.

 

Happy Christmas!

'Twas a night before Christmas and I don't feel like writing much. However I found this quite a while ago through my tumblr I've bolded the things that I have done and I'm turning this into a tag bitches.

Things to do before Kicking the Bucket

1. Write the story of your life
2. Watch every James Bond film
3. Sing along in a music store


I was at Tower Records with Munkao and Backstreet's Back came on the sound system. I was like "OMG!! BSB! Childhood flash back!" then I got excited so I started singing along with it. Loudly. Then I realised that I still kinda remember the dance move from the video- I mean c'mon let's face it....if you grew up in the 90s the way I did you would know that the video to that song is the Shit. So I started doing random dance moves that I remember of. Right there, in public, in Tower Records Mid Valley...with people watching. Dude...the look on Munkao's face was priceless.


I think he said something along the lines of "If you're not a girl, I punch you in the face maaaan." Then practically dragged me out of the store. This happened last year by the way, in case you were wondering. So not only did I sang out loud in a record store, I danced too bitches.


4. Build a snow cave
5. Get in the record books
6. Turn your mobile phone off for a week



In all technicality this only happen cause my phone was spoilt so I send it to be fix.


7. Run in fancy dress for charity
8. Blow a month’s wages on shoes
9. Paint a self-portrait
10. Bury a time capsule
11. Leave behind a million dollars
12. Learn to play a song
13. Plant a tree and carve your name
14. Go on holiday with no luggage
15. Have a night at the opera
16. Learn a different language
17. Play an elaborate practical joke
18. Host a cocktail party
19. Spend Christmas Day helping out
20. Meditate for 3 hours in one setting
21. Spend a week at sea
22. Get re-married in Vegas
23. Skinny dip at midnight
24. Have a suit hand made


Since I'm a girl I think it's fair to take "suit" as dress and by that, I did have one hand made. Okies?


25. Spend the night in a haunted house
26. Make fire the old-fashioned way
27. Swing through the air on a trapeze
28. Horse-ride through the surf
29. Read a book a fortnight a year
30. Make your own pasta
31. Swim with something big
32. Sleep outdoors watching the stars


Remember Starlight Cinema? My best friend and I went for the Lord of the Rings Marathon. It started at 8pm Saturday and it finished round 9am-ish Sunday. I forgot the exact date. But it was in a field, picnic style. We watched the extended version of all 3 movies but sometimes during Two Towers we fell asleep on the picnic blanket under the stars. We were lucky it did not rain but it was such a great experience. And a total girly bonding moment between my best friend and I.


33. Create an online alter-ego


Who the hell do you think the Constantly Dramatic One is?


34. Cook something you’ve grown
35. Resign by all-staff email
36. Go out shopping in just a Drizabone
37. Catch a fish and eat it that day
38. Brew your own beer
39. Learn to throw a boomerang
40. Ride a giant rollercoaster
41. Surf and snowboard in one day
42. Build a tree house
43. Take pole-dancing lessons
44. Pash a policeman on New Year’s Eve
45. Do a Roar & Snore at the zoo
46. Give a homeless person your lunch
47. View a house you can’t afford
48. Hire a house boat
49. Go trekking, carrying all your gear
50. Build something that will outlast you
51. Research your family tree
52. Go to a bedding store in your PJs
53. Cut your own hair
54. Get involved in a protest rally
55. Make a crowd sign for the cricket
56. Leave a love note on a windscreen
57. Build a giant sandcastle
58. Blow a kiss to a bikie


Not a bikie per say. But a cute guy in a Honda Jazz during a traffic jam.

59. Wear fancy dress for a whole day
60. Spend an hour in a lift
61. Get your fortune told
62. Make a baby laugh
63. Make a snowman
64. Make love on the beach
65. Help out at a soup kitchen
66. Send flowers for no reason at all
67. Watch the sun rise
68. Watch the sun set
69. Make a cake for the teachers
70. Take the day off on your birthday
71. Spend Christmas Day in Lapland
72. Make a heap of autumn leaves
73. Walk through knee-deep mud
74. Tell your Mum you love her
75. Have a night at the ballet
76. Take evening classes with a friend
77. Take tap-dancing lessons
78. Write a letter to your grandchildren
79. Smile at 100 strangers
80. Read the plays of Shakespeare
81. Do a first-aid course
82. Keep a diary for a whole year


Actually I did for 5 years. Aged 13-17. I no longer do but I still have all 5 of them.

83. Google yourself
84. Visit your parents in a limo

85. Live off the land for a week
86. Listen to your iPod right through
87. Fast for 48 hours

When I was 15, I had some sort of eating disorder issue. Bullimic basically. I went through 3...4 days without food then binging on the 5th day and then throwing it up. 48 hours with no food or water? No big. Just ask anyone who has an eating disorder. I'm sooo glad that I am in a much better place in my life now.

88. Skip with your kids along the beach
89. Take a vow of silence
90. Finish a crossword or sudoku
91. Give blood

Done it 3 times this year. Done it 11 times all together. It's just blood. No need to be stingy.

92. Write to your favourite author

Not just one author mind you. 3 of them through snail mail. True story.

93. Walk a marathon
94. Contact your childhood sweetheart
95. Give an emo a big sloppy kiss
96. Pretend to be invisible
97. Buy some outrageous sunnies
98. Wind up a security guard

One day, I shall blog about this one particular episode...

99. Send a message in a bottle
100. Make a kite and fly it

101. Test-drive a car you can’t afford

Out of a 101, I have only done 26. Wow, thank God I'm only in my early twenties man. If I'm 45 and have only done 26 of these, I'll be really depressed. Like seriously.

If you read this blog, considered your ass tagged. The following video is a gift from me to you, especially to those kids who were born in the 80s but grew up in the 90s. This one is for you.

Happy Christmas everyone!

My brother lived in Chicago for 4 years and all I got is a lousy t-shirt

My brother came home on Saturday. He told me that he was supposed to arrive on Sunday and that I am supposed to pick up his ass from the airport. It’s supposed to be a surprise for our parents and we’ve been planning this for weeks. Then he went and showed up a day earlier.

It was almost 2 in the morning. I was home alone seeing that my parents were in Singapore. If I am actually “cool”, I would have called up some friends, get me a DJ and throw a super happening party with abundance of liquor, marijuana and pole dancing strippers. But seeing that I am not cool nor an extra designated for plot advancement in some American coming-of-age movie involving 4 guys who want to get laid before prom, I did no such thing. Instead I was home alone watching "Love Actually" and cursing my non-existing love life. I was at that scene, where that guy proclaimed his love for Keira Knightley’s character using cue cards with Christmas carol playing in the background.That scene was so fucking romantic that I hyperventilated a bit. I was like “How come he loves her? Why her? Why her and not me?!! Why doesn’t Clive Owen ever stand in my doorway, proclaiming his love by giving me a diamond bracelet with Snoop Dog’s Sensual Seduction playing in the background?! Why?! What does his wife have that I don’t?!!! WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME CLIVE?!! WHY WON’T YOU?!!!” -when the house phone rang.

At first I thought it was my parents calling from Singapore. They could call my mobile but they called the house phone instead to make sure that I was in fact, at home. Like they’re so scared that I would go out all night partying and have random promiscuous sex in some club’s dodgy bathroom. I mean, seriously. Come on. I have class. If I want hot sex, I’ll just hire a gigolo. And we’ll do it in my parent’s bedroom, not some club’s bathroom. Trust me on that. So I answered the phone

“Yes, Dad. I’m home. I’m not out and about being a skank.”

“Hey CD, I’m in front of the house!”

Dude, I swear to God the first thought that crossed my mind was “Huh? Clive?” And then I panicked. Fucker, it was almost 2 in the morning. Who the fuck does house calls at this unGodly hour? OMGWTF, did I order a gigolo? OMFG?!! Did I? How the hell would I know who to call to order a gigolo? Shit!! How am I going to pay for this? What is the going rate for gigolos these days? OMG! The cops! The cops! My face would be all over the news for soliciting a hooker! And I haven’t got my eyebrows done.

“Dik, abang ni. Kat depan rumah.”

Sis, it’s your brother. I’m in front of the house.

Oh.

“What?! I thought you’re supposed to arrive tomorrow! Who picked you up?”

“My boys did. Come on, open the door.”

See, I could just go ahead and open the door for him but there’s a slight problem. I wasn’t wearing.... much. Like, maaaan I’m home alone okay. You’re lucky I wasn’t walking around naked. What the hell am I supposed to do? Answer the door in my panties and all my braless glory? With his friends standing there too? I’m sorry this is not a porno you download from the Net, this is my life. So I ran up, grabbed the nearest thing that I can and just put that on. You would think the first thing he would say to his long lost sister when I opened the door would be; “I miss you” OR “You are the best sister a guy ever had” OR “Wow, you grew up to be so magnificently beautiful” but what he said was “Hey, your pants is inside out…..and what’s that brown stuff on your face?”

Ahhh…..such sweet reunion of siblings. Bring tears to your eyes it does.

He looked dead tired so I told him to go to sleep but he was all excited saying that he brought me stuff from Chicago. Secretly I was excited too but was playing it cool. Inside I was like “YAY!! Gifts!” but outside I was like all “Oh really? You shouldn’t have.” Ahem. Then he pulled out like this thick ass book okay. “I got this for you cause you have always like to read.” Dude, I thought it was Tales of Beedle the Bard- Limited Edition turns out it was “Dreams from My Father" by Barrack Obama. Are you fucking with me? I stared at him and he was like “What? You were into the elections and I got you an Obama shirt too” at which point he pulled out this huge ass shirt from his luggage.

Okay, first off. Yes. I realise that I am fat. Yes. But really, is he mocking me? That fucking shirt is hugggge. It is not a shirt, it’s a fucking tent. With Obama’s face on it. I think it’s a men’s shirt sized triple XL. I am not making this up. I’m swimming in it! That shirt is so huge it reaches my knees. I got dresses shorter than this! Oh, the unprovoked insult delivered by your own flesh and blood!…Oh how it hurts so…

I actually got a picture taken in that shirt to show how ridiculous huge it is and I wanted to puti it here for you guys to see but at the last minute I took it off cause:

1) I was wearing shorts underneath the shirt but it’s either the shorts is too short or the shirt is too long that it seemed that I am not wearing any bottoms at all.

2) It is a men’s shirt.

3) I was posing next to my bed.

4) My hair was messy.

5) I also put on these sexy 4-inch heels that I got for RM25 on stock clearance just to show off.

Upon uploading this photo I realise the fact that I’m posing next to a bed in a man’s shirt seemingly without any bottoms on but with heels on and having that little messy bed hair going on is….not really appropriate now is it? What kind of message am I sending off to my readers? No, seriously…what? Images with hidden double entendre like that should not be seen by public.....only by Clive. So I took it off at the last minute. I will not blind my readers that way. You can thank me later. But trust me on this, that shirt is huuuge and it kinda look like this:

But in the size of a tent you take when you go camping in the Amazons.

I appreciated the thought however and thanked him for the gifts, gave him a hug and told him to go to sleep. We can do our catching up tomorrow. I got back to my room, flipped open the book and a Benjamin with a post-it note on it fell out: “Untuk adik abang”. (For my sister)

100USD, that’s 300 Malaysian Ringgit.

Turns out, my brother not so crappy with gifts after all....

Fabu!

OMGWTFBBQ!! I got me an award. Courtesy of the ever-adorable Technodoll of Bubblegum Diaries. Awwwwww….this is my 3^rd blogging award ever since I started this whole blogging thing. Almost 2 years now actually.

Fabulous bitches! Fabulous!

Right the rule of the game is for me to list out 5 addictions and then to spread the love to 5 other bloggers who are as fabulous as moi. Since it’s a Saturday and I’m feeling lazy as hell let’s just make this a quick one. My addictions:

1) The internet. Kinda obvious, no?

2) Reading. I am quietly judgemental towards people who do not read.

3) Writing. I write constantly. I even have a notebook next to my bed cause sometimes at night I just wake up and feel the need to write. So write I must.

4) Lotion. I put on 3 different types of lotions everyday. One after showers, another before and after driving, and my favourite one at night before sleeping. This ritual makes no sense to anyone else but me.

5) Clive Owen. Ahem.

Now, drumroll please…!!!

Faye of lifethrupinklenses

Cause she is fabulous, and lets face it. Anyone that can write and dress as well as she deserve an award all on its own.

Connie of Skin Deco: Enhancing Natural Beauty

Best fucking makeup tutorial blog ever. Seriously. You guys…the crazy hours I spend staring at her step by step tutorial and then trying to recreate it is like fucking infinity. If you’re into makeup, her blog is a must read.

Rujing of emma&rujing

Rujing is the dramatic protégé I’ll never have. She’s hilarious and completely random but really the woman is a drama queen, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. The drama force is strong with you my young pedawan. Use it well.

Zikri of Theater of Nothing

Zikri deserves this award merely cause I wanna irritate him but also because of all the readers and the commentors of Dramatic Musings, he is the only one who always calling it as it is. And telling the truth no matter how irritating it is to me. Thanks dude, you’re faaaaabulous!

AJ of Road to FABULOUSITY

What kind of fabulous award is this if it doesn’t include the faaaabulous AJ himself? Hell man, he doesn’t even need this given the fact that he is extraordinarily fabulous already. But hey, why not eh?

This is for you AJ!!

So that’s all for today. Now you guys go and spread the fabulousness. Ta.

The Constantly Dramatic One's Shit List: Part 3

Okay this post has been a long time coming. I realise that my ass will get flame after this but then you know, it’s not like having haters on this blog is anything new. Haters on Dramatic Musing is like the sun on a bright shining day. They keep things spicy here and over time I have come to rely on them for my perpetual craving for drama. Yes….. haters complete me in ways no lover ever could.

 

And for that, I thank you.

 

Anyways, I dunno bout you guys but as much as I am into this whole blogging thing right, there are just some shit out there that bugs the fuck out of me. Just some random things regarding the blogging world so let me just list them out for you. In no chronological order:

 

1) Tedious bloggers pissed the fuck out of me. You know those kinds, the ones that have to give you a play by play of their whole life. Every, mundane, minute details have to be described and exploited. Dunno what I’m talking about, let me give you some examples:

 

 

“Today I went shopping. I drove there in my silver Volvo. Eric came with me. He sat in the passenger seat next to me. He wore a red hoodie. I told him it makes him look gay. I laughed. Haha.”

 

“Oh today I woke up. Then I went to the bathroom. Then I took a dump. I wiped my ass with recycled tissue paper. It was pink in colour. I think it is pretty. Haha.”

 

FYI, no one wants to know about every little mundane shit that goes on in your insignificant little life. Really. Contrary to your singulary belief, you are not as fascinating as you thought. If you want to write shit like that out, get a damn diary. Not a goddamn blog. Reading your blog is so fucking boring that upon setting my eyes on it, watching paint dry and grass grow seem utterly attractive to me.

 

2) Okay now I understand that you love yourself. That you are in fact, the shiznit. That you are the most beautiful, the most drop dead gorgeous human being that has ever walked God’s green earth. See, I understand that. I understand that some amount of self love is needed for a healthy self esteem.

 

See I know I am not the most gorgeous woman around. I know that. But sometimes, on good days I look into the mirror and I go “Daaaammmnnnnn giiiirrrrrlll. You are fiiiinnneeee. Now shake that ass baby, shake that ass. Cause you are fiiiiinnnnneeee.” Moments like this would not be complete if I do not pull some Tyra Banks-es poses in the mirror. It’s fun. It keeps me happy. Keeps my self esteem healthy as well. But when I am overcome by moments of narcissism like this, I do not however take 3000 pictures of me and paste it all over my goddamn blog.

 

Yes, yes ...we know you think you’re gorgeous. We know. Unfortunately we do not share the sentiment. But really huney, no one wants to see you in 1700 different posses and faces in the same outfit. Also you know that shit that you do when clearly you are taking a pic of yourself and not looking into the camera, yeah that shit is lame. It does not make you look mysterious. It just heightened your douchebag factor.

 

3) See I have crappy taste in music. So crappy that whenever I tell people of my favourite artists, people visibly cringe in horror of it all. I listen to shallow pop music and I am not ashamed to admit it. Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Kelly Clarkson, Beyonce and so on and so forth are the singers that are on constant reply on my mp3. I know a lot of people think of pop music as crappy. So much so, that a friend once told me; “When we meet my other friends, please don’t tell them that you listen to Britney and those other crappy music cause then I am forced to abandon this friendship of ours.” It gets to that point okay.

 

So I understand completely on how other people do not like my type of music. And I respect that. I do not shove it into their ears and I do not force them to like it. I like what I like and vice versa which brings us to that fucking, fucking annoying instant-play-music-widget fuckery.

 

There are many blogs out there who have music widgets that start playing the moment a reader visits their blog. Let me just point out that those things are the most ridiculously annoying shit I have ever come across. Have it ever occurred to you that the rest of the damn population do not share the same taste in music as you do? Have it ever occurred to you that they might find the music that you oh so love and adore worst then the sound of a cat makes during giving birth? Have it occurred to you that your reader might be listening to their own music, and have no wish whatsoever to listen to your lame ass music while blog surfing? Get rid of that shit.

 

When I listen to Britney, I do not like to be interrupted.

 

4) I have issues with advertisings on blogs. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind if you have like only one of those widgets things. Just one. Big one, small one…whatever you know. In fact whenever I go to any blogs that have advertising I make a point of clicking on that ad. Why not? Help out a fellow blogger you know...

What bugs the fuck out of me is when there are multiple ads crisscrossing on the page. I can’t fucking stand that shit. Or that shit when you move the cursor around and the ad follows the movement of your cursor. That shit is soooo fucking annoying okay. Stop it.

 

Your blog is nothing without your readers. Stop shoving shit into their faces. They come there to read what you write and what you think. Appreciate that. Be grateful. Do not fucking advertise like an asshole just cause you are greedy little piece of shit. Keep it to limited advertising and put that shit at a corner of your page. Not all over it. Have some respect for your readers and in turn they would respect you too.

 

 

5) “Hello. You have a nice blog. Link me.”

 

Really asshole, really?

 

This shit bugs me in more ways then the others could. I hate this okay. I can’t even describe to you how much I hate it. I hate it so much that I kinda wanna buy me a shotgun and kill all the motherfuckers that come my way and leave this in the comment box.

 

It’s soooo undignified. Listen, I linked to blogs that I like. Blogs that in some ways amuses me. If these bloggers feel like they wanna link me then they can go ahead and do it, if they don’t then no big whoop. Just because you linked my ass doesn’t mean I want to link yours mmmkay? Why do you need to come to my blog and do that shit? I know it sounds like nothing to the rest of you but I think these people who do these are like the hobos of the blogging world. The ones that stand at street corners asking for a buck. Only these ones troll the comment box asking people to link their boring ass when I have no wish to do so.

Write more interesting shit. Maybe then people would link you without you having to whore yourself out. Was that too harsh? Well, excuuuuuusssse me for not sugarcoating that for you. I ain't Mary Poppins, asshole.

 

Okay…that’s it. I got that out of my chest. Now tell the Constantly Dramatic One of your blogging pet peeves. Or flame my ass. Or defend your case. Or stop reading my blog all together. Doesn’t matter really. Unlike those douchebags that constantly put up pics of themselves, I am not here for the….what do you call it…"popularity”. I’m here strictly for the bitching.