My tangled web of lies

So uuuhh….I think I might have fucked up BIGtime this time around.

 

Before anything else I think y’all should know that I am majoring in Journalism. So that’s what I am studying over here. I wasn’t going to actually give out that piece of information on my blog but it is crucial to the story I am about to tell.

 

Now I bet you’re wondering why I am doing Journalism, no it is not because I want to be a journalist. I think journalism and print media is a dying art what’s with the coming of the internet. No one buys the paper anymore. No, I am merely using this as my stepping stone to become a screenwriter one day. I already have 2 scripts in the process. I have good ideas, it’s the character building that I am having issues with. However Journalism is fine by me. I know that whatever I ended up as in life, it would have something to do with writing. Other people go out clubbing for fun. I write. For fun.

 

So today was my compulsory Orientation for commencing Journalism students. It was sort of like a meet and greet with the members of the Journalism faculty. So I arrived late because I couldn’t find the room that it was held in. My campus is fucking huge; I need a map to get around. So when I stepped in, like 5 mins late there were already 30 something students in there. And I noted right at that moment, I was the only one who wasn’t Australian.

 

Interesting.

 

So I smiled at everyone and sat down, second row from front. Now see when you are the only one who isn’t Australian in the whole room, arrived 5 mins late and was wearing a bright red shirt with a huge ass Victoria’s Secret in diamante spelled across your…ahem, ample bosoms….you tend to attract attention. I’m just sayin. I noticed that a couple of lectures were already eyeing me. This does not bode well.

 

So we went through the program structure and then it came to the session where they randomly select students to say why they choose Journalism. So a couple of students were “Ooouuuu I wanna do journalism cause I wanna write scripts. Bla bla bla”, a bunch of surfer dudes who went “Yeah I want to take journalism cause I wanna write music reviews…yeah”, and then this bimbo who sat behind me said, out loud, to all the lectures that she wanna do Journalism cause she loves Sex and the City and she wanna be a columnist just like Carrie Bradshaw. Cause the fictional Carrie Bradshaw, is her idol.

 

 

Bish. Are you kidding me?

 

 

I don’t care if she is your idol. But the hell, you don’t say that in front of the whole faculty. The hell. And I thought the bimbos in Malaysia were bad. Then one of the lecturers looked at me. I knew what was coming.

 

“What about the young lady in the red Victoria’s Secret shirt?” She totally said that. “Whereabouts are you from?”

 

“I’m CD and I’m from Malaysia.”

“Oouuu that’s exciting. We rarely get international students in Journalism. Why don’t you come up here and tell us why you are doing Journalism.”

 

Please note that when all the other students were saying their bit, they were sitting down and not standing in front of the class. However, luckily unlike most people I know, I have no problems with public speaking. I actually kick ass at public speaking. So I went in front of the room, smiled and

 

 

“Well, once again, I’m CD and I’m from Malaysia.”

 

 

Now at this point I realise that I can say like so many others that the reason why I’m doing journalism is cause I wanna be a scriptwriter. But then that would be boring. They called me out in front of the class for a reason. They wanted a show. So I gave them a show.

 

“The reason why I want to be a journalist is because; personally I believe that journalists are the people who hold society together. They are the ones who bring the news to the people, the public and without them no one would know of world affairs. It’s more of a calling to me, then an actual career path. Especially from where I come from, there is no such thing as media democracy. It comes to the point that every media outlet are controlled by the government and every news and information are spinned the way they want it to be spinned. So when I become a journalist, I would make it my sole purpose to bring truth to the people and help end this subjugation by the government and hopefully make media democracy a reality in my country.”

 

 

Yeah. Top that Carrie-Bradshaw-wannabe-bimbo.

 

 

When I stopped talking, everyone looked impressed. And it occurred to me that bullshitting my way through in front of the whole faculty is a bad idea. But the hell, I’ve already said all that shit. Then one of the lectures went “Aren’t you afraid of being jailed?” The answer to that is of course I am. Whose not afraid of being jailed? But what I said was

 

“I’m not gonna say that it does not scare me. It does. However the way I look at it, change cannot come just like that. It has to be fought for. Sacrifices have to be made. And if that means being jailed then yes, I am willing to face that….if brings change that is for the better.”

 

That my friend, was bullshit at its very best.

 

Then one of the lecturer looked at me and she said “I like your passion. We rarely see that in young people anymore these days. And good for you for wanting to do that for your country.”

 

I am soooo fucked.

 

 

So now, they all know me as the passionate Malaysian girl and I don’t even want to be a journalist. This is soo bullshit. Why do I keep on doing shit like this to myself? Why? God, why? Why do I always get myself into these tangled web lies. Can't I just say the real reason. No I can't cause I just have to be dramatic. Just haaaave too. Goddamnit.

 

But on the plus side, the students that were in that class thinks I’m cool now. That's right. Me. Cool. I don't think there was ever a time that people associate me with "cool".....but they are now. Yeah...... I could live with that. 

 

That car was a ninja and it totally did ambushed me.....

I was involved in an accident last week. A vehicular accident. Actually "accident" is such a big word. It was more like....there was this car. And I uhhhh..kinda.....hit it. The worst part of it was that the car was stationary. How fucking sad is that? I drove into a stationary car and calling it a vehicular accident? Really, honestly. It is not my fucking fault okay. That car was a bitch.





It was around 8ish in the morning and I was leaving for class. I parked my car round the corner from my house on this abandon piece of land. That land can fit up to 3 cars and since we live near that spot, it is very convenient for me to park my car there. There was this other car that always park behind my car. Not exactly behind my car but damn near that whenever he parked his car behind mine, it is damn difficult to just reverse out. In fact I have to do that annoying go forward, reverse a bit, turn a bit, and then repeat 3 times before I can get out of the spot. Bastard.





So that morning I was more than a little bit preoccupied. I have Spanish quiz at 10am and basically my head was filled with Spanish verbs and future/past tenses. I barely acknowledged that car as I walked past it. I got in my car, put the gear into reverse, looked into the rear view mirror, smiled smugly at my perfectly groomed eyebrows, backed the car out and BANG!! All my smugness and my Spanish verbs went out of the window.





I remember screaming "Where the fuck did that car come from?!!" I got out of my car and there was this huge motherfucking dent at the backdoor of the car. Thankfully mine was all okay except for some paint transfer.








The first thought that came to my mind was "Oh fuck."


The second was "Oh fuck."


The third was "Run bitch! Run while you can!"








But alas by the time I could do anything my mom was already out the house. She looked at the car then she looked me standing there between my car and the victimized car then she looked at me straight in the eyes...... I mean fuck this happened near my house okay. If it happened like I dunno somewhere else, like 3897 meters away from my house I can just tell my mom "OMG Mom, it is soooo totally not my fault. Like I was driving according to the speed limit -being the law abiding citizen I am- then all of a sudden this raccoon jumped out of nowhere. I swear to God, a raccoon! On Federal Highway. I think it was nesting on one of the billboard...and I think it was rabid too....but it jumped on my car. It landed on my windshield and I screamed. I was so shocked that I lost control of my car but at the same time there was this parked car by the roadside...yes Mom a parked car on Federal Highway, I'm not making this up and I hit into that car. But don't worry that car is only dented. And I managed to deliver that raccoon to the nearest vet for psychiatrist evaluation. Poor baby. So you see Mom, it is totally not my fault. It's the raccoon's but we shouldn't blame it seeing that it's insane....." But of course I can't say that. Shit son...she saw the whole thing.





"And you expect me to let you drive my car?"


Wow, sarcasm is not appreciated at moments of life and death like this, okay Mom?





"How did you managed to drive into this car? It wasn't moving."


"It wasn't my fault! I did not see it there!"


"Constant Drama* (insert full name), it is a car. A car. A huge car. It is not a toy car....Do we need to get new prescription for your glasses?"


"The sarcasm is really not appreciated at times like this. This stupid car should not be parking so near to me. It's not my fault........."


*dirty looks* "Constant Drama, you backed your car into a parked car. As in the car is not moving. Nooooottt moooooooving. How is that not your fault?"





I learned at a young age that upon fucking up big time, one must keep one's mouth shut so that's what I did.





"You have a quiz today? Go to class. I'll deal with this. And your father will know about this too."





Fuck.





I'm telling you, I was on the verge of dying of a heart attack that whole day in college. All I could think was how my Dad was gonna kick my ass. Figuratively speaking of course. Wah, it was damn scary. It was like being an inmate on death row. Then I decided that instead of running away from my problems, I should confront it....so I called my Dad. I was all matured and shit.








"Dad.... I wanna talk to you about what happened this morning."


"I'm busy. We talk about it when I come home."


Then he hung up. On me. His last born!! I'm telling you...the inmates on death row got it easy compared to me. When he got home, we did have a talk about it. Actually....it was more of him yelling and me keeping quite and trying to shrink into a corner. However this is impossible seeing that my fat ass cannot fit into any corners.



"Ayah...Adik serious tak nampak kereta tu kat situ."

*Dad, I seriously did not saw that car there.



"Oh kau kena ambush lah ni? Apa keter tu macam ninja? Ambush ko dari belakang?"

*Oh so you were ambushed? Was that car a ninja? Did it ambush you from the back?


No, seriously. He said "ninja". I swear, one day when my parents are not at home I am gonna fake a burglary in my house. Disarm the alarm system, brake the windows, thrashed the whole place to make it look like a burglary and the only thing be missing is his damn ninja movies collection. Especially the Akira Kurosawa samurai movies. And if the cops asked how come the burglars didn't steal the plasma TV or the laptop or whatever I'm gonna say...."Well perhaps the burglars were ninjas and they don't want mere mortals, such as my father, to learn their secret ways." In any event, his ninja movies collection have got to go.


And then there were more yelling, numerous versions of his monologue of "money don't grow on trees" and then "you been driving for 3 years now, you should know better"- maybe 4 versions of that ending with my Dad taking away my car keys. That's right. He took my car keys.






Oh my heart! My heart cannot take it!


With that I conclude this story on a sad note. Friends, comrades, bitches: I will not be able to hang out with you guys cause my Dad is PMSing and took away my car keys therefore I ain't got no wheels. I can hang out with you if the place in which you want to hang out is within walking distance from my house. Like the mamak round the corner. Or if you are able to drop me off at the train station so I can get home. If this is not possible then you have to deal with the fact that I cannot grace your life with my presence. I know....I know what a bleak and sad existence your life would be, to be without me....I know it is going to be difficult for you. But you have to be strong okay? Be strong.



Ahem.



I ain't got no wheels and it sucks donkey balls.

Could this be the end of the Constantly Dramatic One?

No proper blog posting today.

I had a shitload to bitch about, a shitload but all that have to go into Drafts and publish on some other day. Why? Cause I totally just had a major anxiety attack resulting in me running around the house shouting incoherent gibberish, pulling my hair out and then accusing Ghendut, my golden hamster of stealing the last Vitagen in the house. Ghendut is now sulking and no longer on speaking terms with me. Fine bitch! Fine! See if you can get by in this life without me. You are nothing without me! Nothing!!! I made you what you are!

..........Oh come on Ghendut don't be like this. I love you. Who's my number one golden hamster? Who? Who? You are....you are. Fine, don't talk to me. I got more important shit to deal with. More important than you Ghendut. You're not all that. No no, I'm sorry. I don't mean that. Goddamn.

Anyways my important stuff consists of 3 class presentation, one in Spanish (my tongue is going to take a beating for this) and Finals in 12 days. I haven't started on anything.

I am going to die.

P/S: Sorry if I haven't been visiting your blogs. I cannot do it now. I cannot pay attention to what you wrote for my mind is too preoccupied with my impending doom. Shit should be fine after the 4th. Ta bitches, and stay ossum.

PP/S: Ghendut is still not talking to me.

So begins my life long phobia....

The following post that you are about to read is something that is very.......personal to me. It is something that is so......horrible that I spent a considerable amount of my life trying not to think about it. But alas....every time I see one of them lurking about, crawling around my fear is triggered back again. I will experience the now familiar feeling of nausea and the emotional, mental need to puke even though physically I do not need too.......The following post will depict my traumatic experience when I was assaulted by a cicak. A single experience that will change the course of my entire life........


Okay, not as dramatic of course. Hahaha! Just talking shit. Hey y'all, I am the Constantly Dramatic One. If there is no drama, I need to be creatin sum. You get what I'm saaaaaayyyiiiin?

I had several of my non-Malaysian readers asking me what a "cicak" is. By "several" readers, I mean precisely two of them. I used the word "several" so that I would come across as popular and cool, which I clearly am not. But it's okay, I live in my own world of make believe and in that world- I am the most popular girl. Ever.

Ever bitches, ever.

So I was thinking to myself......"Dude, wtf is cicak in English? Does it even have a name in English?.....Wait does cicak even live outside of this country?........". So I Google up "cicak" and all I found is this lameass Malay Wiki page but it did however provide me a clue. "Uh huh!! Those little bastards are geckos." Using my super ossum CSI skills, I Google Image "gecko" and I found those little, icky suckers. Apparently, they are called "house geckos"....well no big stretch of imagination there. And you can see how they look like if you click here. No way in hell I'm putting up pics of fucking cicaks on my page. Fuck off.

Those little slimy bastards must die.

So now let me explain why cicak scares the bejesus out of me. On why every time I see any one of them, my first impulse is to run like bitch while screaming like a banshee and then when I do find a safe cicak-free spot, proceed to puke. Totally. Right, let's take a trip down memory lane of a memory that I always try to forget but never could.........

The year was 199*, I was 13. (Ha! As if you bitches gonna know how old I am) and I was at one of my aunt's. I was pretending to watch the TV while trying as hard as I could to eavesdrop on my parents and my aunt and uncle while they're gossiping bout someone or other. Then out of the blue, my aunt told me to get some brand new silk sheets that she got in Thailand for my mom. She told me specifically that it is in the "big brown cupboard in the next room, go get it now cause I want to give it to your mother". Alright, fine. Whatevs. Like a good kid I went to get it and as it happens, this is the point in time in which the universe decided to Fuck. With. Me.

As it turns out, a cicak was trapped in said big, brown cupboard. I do not know how the damn cicak got in there okay, but it was there. And the night that I was supposed to get the bedsheets for my mom was the night where that damn cicak was trapped in the cupboard. Here is what I think happened: I think that cicak was freaking out that it was stuck in the cupboard so it went towards the crack of the door that was emitting some light in. So this would placed the cicak, right in between the cupboard door. Like half body is on the left door, vice versa. Little piece of shit was in the middle. At the same time I came in to get the bedsheets. Cicak was contemplating its eternal entrapment in the middle. I opened the doors to the cupboard. Cicak went flying off the door possibly screaming "OMGWTFBBQ!!!!" in cicak language.

I saw that cicak flying in the air and in a split second it landed. On my lips. That's right. I had a fucking cicak on my lips. I did not scream. I remember looking down and the cicak was staring up at me. Time stopped. Then it scurried down like a little bitch before stopping RIGHT BETWEEN MY BOOBS!!! Okay to be fair, I was 13. There wasn't much boobs, they were just growing after all but that's where that little icky fucker stop ok. My only consolation that it was on the outer part of my shirt. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God. I dunno why it stopped between my boobs, maybe it was horny. I dunno. After that, that little fucker crawled down my body, stopped on my left foot then it disappeared. I was in shock. I just stood there for like a minute.

When the shock was over I ran like a bitch towards the sink. I washed my lips with water and that wasn't enough, I took some of my aunt's dish detergent and smeared it all over my lips and then wash some more. I repeated that like 5 times all the while not making noise. I didn't scream or anything like that, I think "shock" is the word we are searching for. Then I ran to the toilet because I had an overwhelming urge to puke which I did. My parents thought I was sick. I wasn't able to tell them that a cicak landed on my lips in between throwing up.

But it was horrible. After that incident I had this intense fear of flying cicaks and how they gonna land on my lips again. For a while, I even cover my face whenever I open any cupboards. Just in case. I haven't done that for a long time but cicaks still make me nervous. Every time I see a cicak, I could feel it on my lips. It's not fun. It's traumatizing and disgusting and just so damn wrong. Fucking cicak bastards.

Great. Now I'm all creep out again. Okay, let's look at cute photos of cats and dogs to be rid off this creepy cicak-related sensation on my lips....

Awww how cute is this dog? Forget bout the damn flying cicak CD, forget about it.

And this kitteh, awwww bless. Too cute. Awwww, and while we're at it let's look at how cute I was....

See, I was totally cute. Waaaay cuter than you when you were a kid.....ahem. This was the life before I was assaulted by a flying a cicak. A life free of cicak-related paranoia....I can't remember that life anymore....Why you flying cicak bastard? Whhhy?!!

I shake my fist at you!!

* This post is dedicated to Peter and Rujing, the two people who asked what exactly is a cicak.

** The cut off bit of my baby picture is because the date and year was there. Don't want people to figure out how old I am now, do I? I totally have age issue man....

This is not over you filthy Pizza Hut bastards!!!

Dude, I totally threw a bitch fit at Pizza Hut just now. Well not really a bitch fit....more like a righteous tirade. A really pissed off and loud righteous tirade. Which by the way……. totally scared the crap out of Farid.








Okay let me run this scene by you and see if you don't get pissed off too. You are with your good friend having a late lunch at Pizza Hut, which by the way you have indignantly championed from all your friends saying that Pizza Hut's pizza totally taste much better then Domino's. Okay so you are sitting there, munching on your second piece of personal pan pizza, discussing current events, resident college bitches and the perpetual never ending topic: the size of your ass when all of a sudden - a fucking cockroach appeared from the underside of the table, crawled all over the table near your plate that contained your damn food and then disappeared to the underside of the table again. Here's a multi choice answer:





a) Scream, push your chair back and then fall on your ass.


b) Stare at the cockroach in utter disbelief but do nothing.


c) Stare at the cockroach in utter disbelief, make your guy friend capture it by using a tissue, and then make a waiter call the manager so that you can give the manager a piece of your mind.








I picked option C.








Unlike most of the female population, the Constantly Dramatic One is not afraid of cockroaches. I am however, is shit scared of cicak. Cicaks are fucking creepy okay. But I do know that cockroaches are filthy and they bring on diseases. And I just ate from a table that as it turns out, the oh-so-accommodating pit stop of a cockroach. Holy Mother of all that is Pure and True, if I could have open a can of whoop ass on someone right there and then, I totally would. The manager came to me with an attitude. She was all gangsta when she looked at me and asked "Yes?".......Bitch, you do not throw fuel to the fire. Bad move bitch, bad move.








"I just found a cockroach on the table here. Where I am eating. A cockroach! What kind of establishment are you running here when people come here to eat and you serve cockroaches along with the food?"





"Ohhh we just had pest control last Friday.............."








"It doesn’t matter whether or not you had pest control last Friday or yesterday or the month before this. That is a non-issue. What is an issue here is that while I am eating here I found a cockroach crawling around next to my plate. *Lipas tau tak? Lipas. Atas meja.* Do you expect me to sit here and eat your food still?"

*A cockroach you know? A cockroach. On the table.








"Oh we always have a cockroach problem. *But sekarang dah less dah.....*"
*But now it have lessen....*







"Oh is that supposed to make me feel better? Is the fact that last time you had more cockroaches attacking your customers and now you only have one is a victory? Am I supposed to rejoice at that? Seriously, what kind of show are you running here? *Ini kat depan dah ada lipas. Kalau I pergi to your kitchen, what will I find there? Perkampungan lipas dan tikus?* Is that the cleanliness level of your establishment? Eh when I come here I expect a certain level of professionalism and cleanliness. **Kalau I nak makan kat tempat kotor-kotor I pergi makan kat mamak tepi jalan tu. Kereta lalu-lalu, berhabuk sana sini tapi tak per.** Cause that's how much I pay for it. Here I come and I pay your service tax and all that and this is the bullshit I have to deal with?"

*If you have cockroaches at the front of your restaurant, then what do you have in your kitchen? A mini city for cockroaches and rats?*

**If I want to eat at a dirty place, I go to a mamak by the roadside. The food will be all dusty but it's okay because that is what expected of mamak and that is how much I pay for it.**

By this time she looked like she was on the verge of crying. I feel kinda bad but no matter how bad I felt it doesn’t change the fact there was a disease carrying cockroach near my food. Shit son, what if I have rabies now?








"What happens now if I get sick from eating your food? If my friend gets sick? Who is going to foot the bill for our medical fees? You? Your pest control people?"








She just kept quite. On hindsight, what else can she do? I wasn’t screaming but I spoke loudly. I made sure that the whole restaurant can hear the fact that there was a cockroach on my table. Near my fucking food. I am still so pissed off.








"So what are you going to do now?"








"Well what do you want?"








"I do not want to pay for any of these, I will not pay for my food and neither will my friend. When we came in we expected to eat pizza, not some cockroach infested tasty treat. Also do you have a business card? I want your business card if not you write out your name and give it to me. If you think you can serve people food in this kind of place where cockroaches live happily ever after then you are wrong. I am going to report about this. This is not over."








"Miss, building ni memang ada banyak lipas."
*Miss, this building is infested with cockroaches.*







"That's not an issue. *I pergi makan kat Subway like 3 doors away and takder pun lipas. I pergi minum kat Starbucks, takde pun lipas. I pergi makan kat Ali Maju, mamak tau mamak, takder pun I kena attack dengan lipas. So don't blame the building for your shortcomings. Ni tempat makan, bukan printers suratkhabar.*"
*I didn't find any cockroaches when I go to eat at Subway which is 3 doors down from here. I don't see any cockroaches when I have a drink in Starbucks. When I go to Ali Maju, which is a mamak establishment, I don't get attacked by cockroaches. So don't blame the building for your shortcomings. This is a restaurant, not a printers.*







I wanted to go on and on but Farid was staring at me from across the table looking on the verge of crapping his pants. (No dude, you did.) So I just stood up and left. I think if stayed longer I would have cut a bitch. Seriously. Fucker!!! What if I have rabies now? Do cockroaches carry rabies? Fuck. What do they carry? I should Google this up. What if Farid and I are infected with it? Whatever it is that they are carrying? What if the disease is spread by saliva? Like rabies? What if everyone we kiss and share a drink with is infected? And those people will infect other people and other people and other people...... In like a week or less there could be an outbreak of cockroach-something disease all over KL!! In a month- the world!








It'll be like the fucking Mad Cow disease all over again. But it'll be worst cause when this story hit the news, the news anchors are going to go "The original deadly disease carriers have been traced and that trail goes back to Malaysia. We have been notified that the original carriers were Farid.A and the Constantly Dramatic One, who ate at a cockroach infested Pizza Hut establishment. Sad to say however that these two individuals who were the original carriers of this deadly disease are already deceased."








WTF?!! I don’t want to be remembered as a plague-carrying-originator. This is not fair!! When I die, people should remember me as the object of Clive Owen's desire. They should remember me for my ass the size of galaxy. They should remember me for my superior bitching skillz. But most of all they should remember me for the ossumness that I am. Not as the cause of a plague bitches!








This is bullshit.








I will lodge a complaint at the Consumer Rights and Health Ministry or whatever. I need to find where exactly I can complain at. And when I do, I will cc. that to The Star, Utusan Melayu and all other newspapers. Take that you filthy Pizza Hut bastards! Take that. If I am going down as the original carrier of a plague-later-to-be-named then I am taking you down with me you filthy Pizza Hut bastards! I am not going down without a fight.








......Damn, I totally need to go to the family GP tomorrow. I need to check if I have rabies. Or whatever it is that will make me go down in medical books as the cause of a plague that wipe out a shitload of people.


Damn Pizza Hut bastards.

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.

Nine Toes

Okay to cut a long story short. The reason why I haven't been blogging is because I have been busy going for rehearsals. Those "meetings" and "on-going project" that I blogged about, yeah those are rehearsals. Yes, the Constantly Dramatic One is in the college production of Grease the Musical. I'm playing Marty Maraschino, the dramatic, bimbotic and somewhat slutty-ish Pink Lady. Hhhhhmmm, wonder how I got that part huh? And opening night is tomorrow. The show is going on for two days only. The tixs are priced at RM25 each but its for charity so its all good.

I will blog all about it later but what I want to say is that last night during rehearsal the girl who playes Rizzo stepped on my toe with her heel. Not her high heels, just her heel. And it hurts like a bitch but I thought it was nothing. But this morning I woke up and the toe is like all fucked up. Its all bruised and it hurts like bitch to walk. Its only that one toe. Just now I went for our full dress rehearsal and I had to walk around barefooted coz it hurts too much to wear stilettos. I have to wear flats for the performance now. It sucks donkey balls.

Now the toe has swollen up and a lot of people were looking at it and they were telling me that it looks too bad to be just a minor swollen. They say that it could be like internal bleeding or maybe I have broken it coz I cannot curl that toe anymore. But I can still feel pain when I poke it. My stupid fucking so-called friend Ali was teasing me about how they're gonna amputate it and I got so scared I started crying. Shut that asshole up. But that was ridiculously embarrassing. I never cried before because someone was teasing me about anything but I'm worried man. What if they cut off my toe? Then I will no longer be the Constantly Dramatic One, I will be Nine Toes. Fuck!!

I want to go for an X-ray but its too late at night now. No one X-rays at night. So tomorrow I'm gonna go to the hospital for an X-ray. I really wish that its just a really bad swollen and nothing is broken. Or need to be amputated. And then during the show, I'll be the Pink Lady who limps around. This sucks so much...but not as bad as how my toe is throbbing right now.

I took some pics. Look at the bruising!!

Closer look, I put on some Malay herbal hot oil on it so thats why it looks wet. But look!! The bruising!

Back view. And yes I have short stubby toes. But they are my short stubby toes and I don't want anyone to cut them off. Okay?

I hope its not broken. I can still feel pain when I poke it. Or internal bleeding. Dear God, please don't let it be amputate. I swear this is karma. For cursing and bitching all the time................

I'm scared.

Update (April 20th 2008)

I went to the hospital, got the X-ray done and its nothing. It was just "severe swelling" so I got some pills to help the swelling go down and some really kickass painkillers. All is good.

For future references.....

Note to self for future references:


When you come back from class from an extremely tiring day in college with the knowledge that you NEED to study because you have a 10% quiz tomorrow- which you haven't even started to study yet...do not say to yourself "Oh, its okay. I just go to sleep first and wakes up at like 4am to study."

Bitch, it never gonna happen.

On that note it is 4am and I am not studying. I'm blogging. This will not end well.

Jim Carrey should not have nude scenes

I just watched the movie The Number 23.







I don't get why so many people criticize it for being crap. It's not that bad. It tries to be clever but in the end it all falls apart. The first half was good, the second half of the movie felt rushed and contrive. Also its kinda disturbing that it involves a whole lot of sex scenes. Jim Carrey sex scenes. You read that right.

Jim Carrey. Sex scenes.

When you seen Jim Carrey's ass thrusting out a couple of times, trust me on this; you will lose faith in humanity. My fucking eyes hurt.

But I'm not here to talk about the movie. Or the fact that the Constantly Dramatic One is now scarred for life from seeing Jim Carrey's white skinny ass in multiple sex scenes, I'm here to talk about the ending.........At the end of the movie you see the Bible reading from Numbers 23:32 .........



"Be sure that your sins will find you out."



I guess I'm fucked then for I have sin.

And seen Jim Carrey's ass. Multiple times.

The source of all Eeeeevillll

As a part of the degree twinning program, I have to choose a foreign uni in which I will continue my studies and complete my degree. So for a while, I kinda have my heart set on this one particular uni...

The reason why I am choosing this particular uni is not because it has an extremely low credit transfer - CGPA 2.0, its not because it is in a country where the weather would be most suitable for the Constantly Dramatic One - nope, its not because it can offer the best course in the field of communication- it doesn't, its not because the currency exchange still make it somewhat affordable - nada. The one and only reason why I wanna transfer to this particular uni, in this particular country is the fact that this particular uni is exactly half an hour away from the city's party central.



Yes. Party Central. Where's rows and rows of clubs line the street. Where people dance the night away. Where good times is never ending. Think of it like Malaysia's Heritage Row . Only better.



But there's a catch. Obviously. The uni's administration have upgraded their requirement for international students. Damn bitches, from just five required subjects that was compulsory to be taken to be qualified to enter the uni, they have now make it ELEVEN subjects and out of these eleven subjects, they are including two maths subjects and two natural science subjects.



What. The. Fuck.



The Constantly Dramatic One don't do maths ok? Maths is the source of all evil in this world. So evil that whenever someone mentions the word "maths", babies all over the world would start crying, flowers wilt and I bet you my ass there's gonna be a storm on the way. Maths is the source of all wars, plagues and poverty in this world. I'm serious. As a Muslim, I do not condone evil therefore I don't do Maths. Period.


And these bitches from this particular uni want me to do two fucking maths subjects just so that I could be qualified to enter? Finite Maths AND Statistics? Are you fucking with me? And to top that two natural science subjects? Bitch, if I wanna know all about science, I'll YouTube Bill Nye the Science Guy ok?


Now tell me the rationale of this? What is the logic in someone who is pursuing a Major in TV & Film Productions with a Minor in Scriptwriting to fucking study her ass off for maths and science subjects? It does not make sense! Its not like in the middle of a film production I'm gonna go "Alright y'all hold up. I just wanna check out the physical properties of this camera right here then after finding that I would just calculate the velocity of which the the overhead light travel from one end of the set to another, and while I am at that let me just do some statistics. Why? Coz this is how we roll when we make films. We randomly stop productions and do maths."

And don't give me that bull crap on how one day I will write an award winning script about a bunch of forensic scientist working in KL al'a CSI. That whole forensic science thing has been milked to death and FYI, the Constantly Dramatic One does not recycle other people's idea.


This is pissing me off. I hate maths with a vengeance I cannot even begin to describe. If maths is a person, I would inflict all kinds of pain on him. I swear to gawd.



So now I have to rethink. Is being half hour away from the ultimate party central worth killing all my brain cells? Is being half hour away from the ultimate party scene worth the self inflicted torture that is Physics class? Is being half hour away from the ultimate party scene worth me frolicking around with the ultimate evil that is Maths? Is it?

But damn...I do want to party.

This sucks donkey balls.

*** Upon rereading this post, I realise how much I miss Bill Nye the Science guy. Ahhhh...memories.

Fucked.

The other day I called my teacher a bastard.

I said his name, followed by "is a bastard".

He heard me.

He knows it's me.

...............................................

You have no idea how FUCKED I am right now.

FINAL EXAM!!!!

ARRRRRGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The results of the final exam of last term will be out on the 14th.

Oh. My. God.

Is it possible to die from fear?

Is it possible to get stroke and die from that fear?

Is it possible to get stroke and die from that fear at such a young age?

Is it possible to turn back time and study properly?

It it possible for me to shut the hell up and just die?

Is it?








I. am. soooooo. screwed.