If life is a musical, it'll totally be infinitely more ossum

Disclaimer: The following post consists of a whole lot of bullshit. A whole lot. Understand that you will never reclaim the time that you will have to use to read this bullshit. I just want you to know that, cause I respect you. And really, this entry is full of bullshit. I'm not kidding...............Don't say I didn't warn you.




So what time did you guys woke up today? What time?..........Oh, well if you were to be up around the time I woke up, which was round 6 in the morning and opened the window.......I swear you would have seen a sight that was almost too wonderful to behold.





The sun was shining, the trees were doing some kind of dance as the wind swept by, there was a rainbow somewhere in the distance, a family of robins up in the tree were singing a merry song and it was beautiful. So beautiful that if Monet were still alive, he would wept by the beauty of it all and then try to capture it in his painting. When he realizes that such beauty, such splendour, such delights of the world couldn't be captured even by someone as great as him, he would put away his brush, let out a sigh of contentment, take my hand, stare me deeply in the eyes and go...





"Tis beauty is too magnificent even for me, the great Claude Monet. For even I cannot capture it, tis is even more beautiful than my pond of water lilies, more beautiful than anything I have ever seen or painted....................but know this Ms. Drama, before I leave your world of make believe, cause when you think about it.......like what the hell am I doing in your backyard at 6 in the morning and talking to you in English when I'm French, I want you to know tis........You're ossum."





And with that he disappeared. He took with him the beauty of the morning. He took with him the sun, the rainbow, the robins and the wind that was gently caressing me up until then. All that left were me staring at my neighbour's maid hanging up the clothes to dry and the garbage track making a ruckus as it makes its way down the road. But yet, even without such beauty, I still feel happy.


This happiness in my heart is so delightful that I feel like anytime, at any given moment I would just burst in a song and dance number. Like in a musical. Goddamn, I wish my life is a musical. I wish I could start just singing on how happy I am, like you know....





"Oh happy happy joy joy!


I am so ossum!


Let's all dance around, and laugh gleefully together when we have never seen each other before,


And continue this merriment till the end of the song!"





Then random people consisting of school kids, soccer moms, construction workers, Indonesian maids, the ice cream man would just bust out in random synchronized dance move along with me. Monet would come out of nowhere and do a rap (in French) about what a glorious day it is. Then we all do a final complicated move consisting of a lot of back flips, twists and crotch thrusting, fireworks go up in the background, jazz hands, and that's the end of that song. Then we all move on with our lives as if nothing happened.





Ain't that fucking osssum?





Don't you wish that random people down the street would just bust out in synchronized dance move along with you? Dude, I totally do. I have always wanted that. Can you imagine how entertaining traffic jams would be if people would go out of their cars and start tap dancing on top of their cars instead? No, really....................think about it. This is the scenario:

Traffic jam. Bumper to bumper. 5 different cars, 5 different drivers, tapping their fingers on the steering wheels

then 5 collective sighs

Driver 1: Oh God

Driver 2: Oh boi

Ensemble: Why is there a traffic jam?

fingers tap (tap tap tap) collective sigh

Driver 1: Oh God

Driver 2: Oh boi

Collectively: Why is there a traffic jam?

fingers tap (tap tap tap), a car honking, tap, honk, tap, honk honk honk,

Driver 1: Fuck this!!! I cannot take this anyyyyyyymooooooooooreeeeeee

*opens door, gets out of car, loosen tie and walk towards the front of car staring in a distance*

Driver 3: Neither can't Iiiiiiiiiiiiii........"

*all driver get out*

Driver 4: Why must this happen to us?

Driver 5: Why must we endure this everyday?

Driver 1 & 3: Why must there be traffic?

Driver 2 & 4: What is there to be seeeeeen?"

Driver 5: Is it an accident? Did someone died? Why are you slowing down? Don't you want to get home?

Ensemble: Listen up my fellow Malaaaaaaysiaaaaannns, slowing down would not help aaaat alll. Listen to me now my fellow Malaaaaaaysiannnns, what should you do is step on the gas!!

Driver 1: So what if some Wira bang some Geeeennn Two? So what if they're dying by the roadside, who gives a damn? I want to get home, I have a wife toooo baaaaaaang....

Driver 4: So what if there's blood on the road, so what if the cops are theeere? I don't give a fuck, I want to go home. Doreamon is on, on NTV Seeeeeeveeeennn

Ensemble: Stop being nosy, stop being a bitch, just step on it on asshole, I wanna get home. No one want to be stuck in traffic for 7 hours, no one wanna sit on their ass for that long, we all want to be home, to rest and sleep, no one wanna stare at your fuuugly caaaarr. Stop being nosy, stop being a bitch, just step on it asshole, I wanna get home....."

Then this is the point in which everyone climbs on top of their car, start doing some tap dancing on the roof and then give each other the finger, as Malaysian are known to do during traffic jams.

That would totally be ossum. I mean when you're stuck on the highway wouldn't you want too see that too? Goddamn, that would be ossum. So ossum it'll be more ossum than me. I should start working on a script now...hhhmmmm.........

This is a clip of the ensemble of Improve Everywhere, where they did randomly started singing and dancing in the middle of a food court. I will kill to be part of this team. Please enjoy as I work on my script.

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?

Humble and modest, that is me

I have been double tag by both Faye and Pourpres to do this tag. 15 random facts about the Constantly Dramatic One. I mean, who would want to know random things about me? I mean......I think this whole practice of telling people all facts all about me is just shallow and narcissistic. The Constantly Dramatic One is of course not shallow or narcissistic. I am humble. And modest. And the ultimate paragon of all that is pure and true in this world.




What's that?...........What are these mistruths you speak of? When have I ever claimed to be..."ossum". I have made no such claim. Modest and humble and pure and true persons such as I am will never make such claim. I do not need to claim to be ossum, tis an undisputed fact.


*buff nails*

Even though I am humble and modest and do not like talking about myself....at all..............I will do this tag. I will write 15 random facts about myself. Because in the blogsphere, we honour the age old tradition of blog tagging. Yes, that's the only reason. In no way will I enjoy writing all this about myself. In no way do I enjoy talking about myself. In no way am I narcisstic. At all. None.





Seriously.




1. I kiss and hug my parents every night before going to sleep. Also every time before I leave the house. This does not include the times we have arguments cause during those times there will be no hugging and kissing. Only shouting and slamming doors. And more shouting........... And slamming doors.



2. I have 6 people whom I met through the blogsphere on my Facebook: Prince, Quin, Peter, Faye, Melissa and Tine. People whom I have never met in real life but have grown to adore.





3. Red lipstick is most of the time, my everyday look. I rock red lipsticks better than anyone I know. Yes, better than anyone else I know. This is yet another demonstration of how humble and modest the Constantly Dramatic One is.



4. I do not go out to celebrate the coming of New Year or Merdeka (Independence Day), I just couldn't be bothered. I'm not bothered to go out clubbing or to watch the fireworks or whatever. The traffic is hideous, everything's overcharged, parking is a bitch and the crowd..... Oh God, the crowd. The

rempits, the posers, the horny illegal immigrants, the snooty "cool kids"- I cannot take it. Piss me off.



So what if I'm lame cause I chose to stay in on these nights, I don't care. I'm not the dumbass who's gonna be stuck in traffic for 5 hours, getting stressed out searching for parking or getting my ass grabbed by some Bangladeshi construction worker in the crowd...all for the sake of watching some fireworks blow up.


5. In an ideal world this is how my beauty regime would go:

The first week of the month: I shall go for a full body massage. The nekkid type. Ideally, the messues would be male, muscular, sexy, has a tight ass and resembles Clive Owen. Would be even better if the messues is Clive Owen. But alas, this is not an ideal world. Clive is an actor, not a messues.


The second week of the month: I shall go for a diamond peel facial. Where they massage your face with diamonds to encourage blood flow and all that jazz. None of those run of the mill facials for moi, only diamond facials are good enough. But alas, this is not an ideal world. Half the damn time I cannot even afford a McDonald's Happy Meal, much less something related to diamonds.


The third week of the month: I shall go for a fish therapy

I will sit there for half and hour and let them fished nimble away the dead cells on my feet and hence beautify them. All this goes on while Clive gives me a back rub. But alas, this is not an ideal world. Clive does not give me back rubs. Bastard.

The fourth week of the month: I shall go for mani and pedi. At this upscale nail boutique in which they would pamper me, beautify my nails and make me feel all special and purdy. But alas, this is not an ideal world. I do my own mani and pedi and most of the time my nails ended up lopsided. And all retarded looking. Also they're kinda transparent due to lack of some vitamin or other.



6. Samuel L.Jackson is my ultimate idol in badass-dery. Everytime I watched any of his movies, I have an insane need to go around calling everyone "motherfucker". Whenever I feel like someone is bullying me or pushing me to a corner, I think to myself "What would Samuel L.Jackson do?............He would whoop this motherfucker bitch azz up! That's what he'll do." I of course would not whoop anyone's bitch ass up..........cause I'm a pussy.



7. I am only interested in men who are 7 to 9 years older than me. Little boys around my age do not interest me.




8. I have not watched MTV for about 4 years now. I didn't even check out that channel when I'm channel surfing. I just grown to old to give a damn about awards, or the newest video clips or who's hot right, or who's dating who. That's just so highschool. And it's been ages since I left highschool I am after all twenty.............19 years old. Yes 19, just 2 years since I left highschool. Not that long ago when I think about.



Moving on.



9. I did not find out about sex until I was 14. True story, I am not making this shit up. I honestly do not know that people have sex to have babies. I thought people have sex for fun and babies just appear out of nowhere. No really, I am that fucking stooooopid. I remember the day I found out about sex. It was in Islamic Studies class and the teacher was talking about the sins of premarital sex and what happens if you get a baby from that.......and then it dawned on me that people have sex, babies come from sex, my parents have 3 kids...........................................................that was a very disturbing revelation. I can assure you that.




I can also assure you that my knowledge of sex have greatly improve since then. Ahem.



10. I cannot pronounce the word "beach". I can't. Don't try and teach me cause I just can't. It just comes out as "bitch". So I always say "seaside" instead. Conversations going round this word usually go like this:


CD: Yay!! We're here. Let's hit the seaside.
Random friend: You mean the beach?
CD: Yeah, the seaside.
Random friend:.................................Beach right?
CD: Yes, that's what I said. Seaside.


And round and round it goes.

11. One of the best things in life is when I read something, a book or an article, is when a line would jump out to me. Like when you read something and you stopped over a sentence, reflect and go "Damn, that is a good line. I wish I could write that." That is like one of my favourite things, finding those lines. And because I like them so much, I collect them. I write them out in my notebook so that I could look them over again and again. I appreciate the beauty of words. Words can be magical if you can weave them well.

And one of those people that can definitely weave words is Faye. I cannot tell you how many times that I stopped and go "Damn that was a good line, this woman can really write" while reading her blog. Then in a total act of word nerdy-ness, I'll write out the line or the phrase so that I can look it over in other time. I'm nerdy like that.

12. You know how men are fond of saying that women dress up nicely for them? I say bullshit. I never dress up for men. When I do dress up to go out, I always have women in mind. What men think is a non-issue. It's not like that they have an ounce of idea what fashion is all about. What other women think of my outfit is far more crucial. That's how I know how chic I look.

13. For some reason I always regret the fact that I was born long after my Pakistani grandpa on my mother side passed away. He fought in the WW2 alongside the Brits and that hows he came to (the then) Malaya, met my grandma and settle down. I always think that talking to him would a fascinating thing. Hearing all his war stories, his childhood stories in a distant land and all that. Unfortunately he passed away even before my parents were wed.

Atuk & Wan (grandpa & grandma) circa 1970s

I regret never knowing my grandpa. Though it is no fault of my own or anyone else's.



14. Every girl has a favourite Disney princess. Most of the time, for some reason or another it'll be Cinderella. Mine is not Cinderella. Mine is Snow White. Before this I though the reason why I like her so much is cause of the red lips, I have a penchant for red lipsticks anyways. But then I realise something, seeing that Snow White was released in the 1930s, the artwork that comes with the film Snow White is in tuned with that era.

You guys, Snow White looks like a pinup girl. No really. Google it up if you don't believe me.



15. Every year I will buy a little something for myself on my bDay. Sort of a self-pampering shit. Last year it was a handbag, before that a Shiseido lipstick, this year it is a book that I have been wanting for a long time.




16. One of my great interest, actually, love is....wait for it.......is history. I've always enjoyed history. All through highschool I consistently scored A's for history. I mean I'm flunking Maths, getting Bs for Biology but there never a time when I have anything less than an A for my history exams. In fact, I read history books for fun. I can tell you what the War of the Roses was all about, the founding of Melacca in a heartbeat, explain the rise and fall of the Roman Empire in great details.....cause I buy books about them. I spent countless hours reading about them online. I also religiously watch the History Channel, for fun.





In fact even the fiction books I read have an inclination to be historical. Historical crime, historical fantasy, historical high fantasy, historical romance, historical fiction...basically if it's historical you can bet your ass I will enjoy it. My favourites are 13th century Medieval England especially concerning Henry the 8th and his 6 wives, 14th Century Scotland, 1930's American (the Great Depression), books concerning the Holocaust are just fascinating, and Edwardian France. Those are good centuries to start with if you want to read anything historical.





In fact, this is the book I'm reading now:




The Autobiography of Henry VII: With Notes by His Fool, Will Somers .By Margaret George (994 pages)


It also has the honour of being the book I bought as a gift for myself, for my birthday. Now you know.


Oh wow, look 16 facts. Damn, I am too humble. Now I am tagging 15 of your asses.



1) Natalija

2) Frank

3) Aini

4) Melissa

5) Tine

6) Peter

7) Tinesh

8) Rujing

9) Technodoll

10) Michelle

11) Senorita

12) splatme

13) Kerp

14) Fara

15) And the last one is open for whoever that wants to do this.



Now go forth and be humble and modest, minions.

My haters ain't got no balls

Sometimes there are unexplainable things that go on in the universe that we cannot even begin to explain. Such occurrence such as the Milky Way is still a mystery to the scientists over in NASA. The Bermuda Triangle still evoke the hibbie jibbies in the hearts of all the sailors of the world. The fact that some women still find Tom Cruise hot is a perpetual source of confusion that keeps me up at night, wondering why oh why would they think he's hot when that dude is clearly insane......and sad.







But such is the universe. Who are we mere mortals to question it? But question it I do however.





I question it when I wake up this morning as I brush my teeth while staring at myself in the mirror, I realise something that is ridiculously perplexing to me. The fact that my life is going well right now. The fact that I am happy. The fact that I ain't got no drama.








What. The. Fuck.





The Constantly Dramatic One with no drama? With none at all? WTF? WTF? How does it come to this? How come I let myself be contented with life? Why did I not watch any movies that pisses me off? Why is no one up all over my face making trouble? Why do I not come across ridiculous articles online that get me all riled up? But most of aaaaallll, where the fuck are all my haters? Why have they got no balls that a little reproach would scare them away? It's disappointing that one teeny post with subtle sarcasm and a little disclaimers in the comment box would drive them away. Don't they know that I need them for the drama? Why do they not leave me anymore hate filled comments? Where are they in my time of need?!!!



You know there's a particular hater of mine that have grown near and dear to my heart. I adore her, I sayang her. Not only that I think she is a loathsome, no-confidence, self-hating, consumed with jealousy over the fact that she's not as ossum as I am, or that she does not have an ass like mine, and overall, a 2 cent hooker that even the most desperate sailor that have been stranded at the sea for 7 years wont go near with a 49-feet-pole cause she is just that fug and....... smells, but I admire her. Cause she can spell well. Most of my haters can't spell for shit but this one at least got 6th grade under her belt and can use the online dictionary properly. I'm very proud of her.



But lately she hasn't left me any hate filled comments. And this makes the Constantly Dramatic One a very sad girl. It makes me feel not ossum. Have you stopped being jealous of me sayang? Why are you not leaving me anymore hate comments? I know you still read my blog cause you're addicted to my ossumness........ also I tracked your IP address down. Amazing what technology can do for you. Don't you not want to be me anymore? But I'm ossum. Everyone wanna be ossum..............................



I'm sure most of you dunno what I'm talking about. So let me copy and paste what my favourite hater left me over the months:

1)
Anonymous said...

Maybe they're just giving you some encouragement. For someone obese, dressed in 10 sizes smaller, of course you are screaming for ATTENTION. They just bagi muka la so you tak tersinggung. Jangan la marah sangat. You should be happy sayang.

Translation for the brown part:

They're just making sure that you are not slighted. Don't be so angry. You should be happy love. ("Sayang" means love or dear, according to the context. Let's assume its "love" in this context.)

This is taken from this post.

2)
Anonymous said...

Just lose weight and stop commenting on other people. They are much better looking than you and are much slimmer and have better bodies than you. So please don't try to make up for your hideous and fat self by condemning these chicks.

p/s: Sayang, i hope fasting has helped you lose a few pounds. Though it seems impossible...but my prayers are with you. Tak baik tau mengata orang masa ramadhan.Muacks

Translation: It's not nice talking shit bout other people during Ramadhan. Muacks.

Taken from here.

3)
Anonymous said...

Fat bitch, i dunno what's riding up your ass....but seriously, you have a huge problem. Not only are you like obese, you are condemning other ppl. It's ramadhan bitch. Kesian your mom. Her butt hole was torn so badly when she purged you out coz you are such a fat shitty bitch

Translation: Pity your mom.

Taken from here.

And then of course I wrote this post in which I was subtly sarcastic. Cause I'm classy like that. But after that my sayang disappeared. Like poof. Well she didn't disappear all together. She still reads my blog. Ahhh...the infinite joy of IP tracking. I'm just like a drug you can't quit right....sayang? I know, I have the same effect on Clive Owen too. But sayang, why didn't you leave me any more hate comments? Did you get scared sayang? You are my ultimate source of amusement and with every comments that you leave behind you stroke my ego for being far more superior than you. And I appreciate that. I like being superior. So please won't you come back?

You can even insult my golden hamster, Ghendut. I don't mind. And oh sayang, even though I come across really bitchy and like someone who is good with confrontations in this blog, I want you to know that it is not the way so in real life. I am not bitchy or good with confrontations in real life. Really.


I'm better.


And thank you sayang for giving me the hint in that first comment you left. I knew you went to the same college as I do and now.........recently, I found out who you are. I'm looking forward to meeting you in real life. I thrive in confrontations, I hope you do too. It'll make our upcoming meeting even more interesting than our online relationship already is.

Miss you sayang, and looking forward to seeing you.
Muacks!

Balik kampung! Ooohhh oooohhh ohhhh balik kampung!!!!

I bet you guys have been relentlessly refreshing this page going "Where oh where is the Constantly Dramatic One? Why is she not updating her blog 3 times a week on alternate days? Why have she gone missing? Whyyyy God!!! Why?!!! I need me some drama and who is there to provide me with some it it's not the Constantly Dramatic One herself?!!!!! Noooooooo!!!!!!!"


*hits refresh*


"She's still not here!! I cannot take it!! I can't fucking take it!!! Arrrggghhh!!"



*stab self in the eye with a fork*



....................................................Okay, in an ideal world in which people builds shrines and worship the ground I walk upon the above situation might hold some truth. But seeing that this is not an ideal world in which no one builds shrines OR worship the ground I walk upon, I bet no one gives a fuck where I've been. But seeing that I do in fact live in an imaginary world where I make believe that everyone -absolutely everyone- adores me, I'm gonna tell you guys where I've been anyways.



Nowhere.



No, really. As it is tradition with all Malaysians to balik kampung during the festive season, I ain't got no kampung to go back to. I am a pureblood of my hometown. My dad grew up here, my mom grew up a town away from here, all my relatives are here. When the rest of Malaysia (read: mudblood) is busy driving back to wherever other state that they hailed from, I'm living it up in KL. Basking in the sheer joy of being in KL without being stuck in traffic jams. That's right, KL with no traffic jams. Yeah mudbloods, suck on that. Y'all never get to feel that cause all of you mudbloods have to go back. Balik kampung.


*looks smug*


Okay, fine. I'm jealous.



I have always been jealous when people tell me they will balik kampung during the festive season. I never get to feel that. The anticipation of going to see your grandparents and favourite cousins that live 3 states away. The long road trip with the whole family. Okay maybe the thought of being stuck in the car with my mom when she's pissed off about something or other for 5 hours is not that attractive, but nevertheless it's different. The joy of playing fireworks, running around the kampung house, chasing the chickens..........so quaint. So old skool. So...............different from the noisy and shady life in the city. I mean I bet in the kampung when y'all open the window during the first day of Aidilfitri, you can see paddy fields as far as the eyes can see. Complete with a scarecrow. When I opened my window here during the first day of Aidilfitri- and I see my 57 year old neighbour washing his car, half naked, beer gut hanging out. Not a pretty sight.



You see where I'm coming from?




Nevertheless celebrating Aidilfitri in the city has it's advantages though. First and foremost- the wireless connection. Mwahahahahhaha!! I noticed that most of my favourite Malay-themes blogs, written by Malay people of course have not been updating. I bet it's cause they all balik kampung and can't get a decent connection. Hahaha!! I bet it's a bitch trying to get connection by the paddy field. I can get connection anywhere here in the city, bitches. Y'all have kampung, I got wireless. Also the cable TV connection here is also better and I'm thinking at night I wont be attacked by an army of evil, hungry mosquitoes either. Riiiigghhht?


I'm making assumption here of course.


But then you know I will not have that bakar lemang or dodol making experience either. *Le sigh*. Urgh, what the hell am I talking about. You people with kampungs to go back to win. So be thankful and stop grousing bout the long drive home, about the bus ride over 4 states or the fact that you can's stand that one bitchy Aunt back in the kampung. Count your blessings and know that each time you are there, you are making kampung memories of Aildilfitri we pureblooded city kids will never get the chance to have.




You lucky bitches.



P/S: I wanna apologize to my international readers if this post makes no sense to y'all. Think of it as a Malaysian cultural lesson, brought to you exclusively and dramatically by the Constantly Dramatic One. And yes, there are references to Harry Potter in this post. Thanks for noticing.