i'm a lot more manipulative than i realised.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Nom de Dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperies de connards d'enculé de ta mère
What asshole needs to be hoaxed, browbeaten, wheedled, arm-twisted, presented with 23 different options (bit like a Certain Client) before finally resigning herself to being fussed over for her 21st birthday?
Catherine Ann Francis, that’s who.
Next time someone offers, yes – I’d take the blowtorch & have you an accident!
Happy Birthday, BFB. Since I’m stuck with you, I guess I do love you.
*the early part of this post was exaggerated. But only slightly.
The later is played down a whole lot. :)
Catherine Ann Francis, that’s who.
Next time someone offers, yes – I’d take the blowtorch & have you an accident!
Happy Birthday, BFB. Since I’m stuck with you, I guess I do love you.
*the early part of this post was exaggerated. But only slightly.
The later is played down a whole lot. :)
Monday, August 10, 2009
good night
but tonight i stopped wondering why so many people i bump into at bars are so obnoxious.
at 8.13pm, a flash of insight! behooooold,
screen-printed from hungrygowhere.com
if you're the impatient or hard of seeing sort, here's just the funny bit,
ooooh baby, you so cheap & you so quick to say i'm only an arm-warmer. you light my fire, you do, you do.
lucky for you baby, i am not internet-savvy like 98% of the Singapore population!
& here's how he writes his bio.
oh
my
buddha...
i swear, if i am ever 27 & male & an insurance underwriter,
please let me not sound like a 14 year old pubescent.
who spends most of his time watching Korean soap operas.
with his mother.
& his right hand.
& i didn't even have to leave my home's shadow to find out. how productive, M!
still. good night, murderer's mothers with no shame & daughters of absent fathers who care all the same, good night!
at 8.13pm, a flash of insight! behooooold,
screen-printed from hungrygowhere.com if you're the impatient or hard of seeing sort, here's just the funny bit,
ooooh baby, you so cheap & you so quick to say i'm only an arm-warmer. you light my fire, you do, you do.lucky for you baby, i am not internet-savvy like 98% of the Singapore population!
& here's how he writes his bio.
oh
my
buddha...
i swear, if i am ever 27 & male & an insurance underwriter,
please let me not sound like a 14 year old pubescent.
who spends most of his time watching Korean soap operas.
with his mother.
& his right hand.
& i didn't even have to leave my home's shadow to find out. how productive, M!
***
still. good night, murderer's mothers with no shame & daughters of absent fathers who care all the same, good night!
Monday, August 3, 2009
still idealistic.
these are the days of my life when i cling onto the mental picture of poor kids from africa who have to walk ten thousand miles for clean water and walk to school in shoes they share with 7 siblings so that i don't sound like a whiny little brat who has 7 pairs of shoes and a pantry (that i as office manager stocked.)
no, wait- what's wrong with that picture?
where's the anger? where's the dissatisfaction, where's the questions, where's the fight?
where's our youth movement? do we not have wants and desires anymore?
i'm not saying we should be goths or punks or hippies. but we should have a voice, an opinion of our futures, a rallying cry. just because we aren't 5 years old anymore doesn't mean we forget altogether the favourite word of 5 year olds everywhere. ask it! why, why, why can't we do better?
without an inquisitive, challenging voice, we haven't got a say in this. we haven't got a chance.
why are we trying to be more mature than we should be? we're not full adults yet, we shouldn't be the ones sighing & accepting our fates, saying bo pian, such is life, just grin & bear it!
have you seen a true adult's eyes? they are deadened & dull, stoned by the everyday sameness of their existence. they had to forget dreaming or they'd go MAD trying to wade through the same bullshit everyday!
they put these words in our mouths because they believe themselves. why are we so eager to repeat their failures & not make our own?
where's our graffiti, where's our public disturbances, where do we go to be exhilarated at our raw potential to change this horseshit into our own universe? where do we gather to poster the streets with our arrogance, our energy & our visions?
we're drifting around.
awkwardly trying to make friends, make meaning out of our lives, make a living & yes, make love. we be all gangly overgrown arms & feet & hearts we need to grow into yet. vaguely uncomfortable in our father's world, & we don't quite know why. at least we're educated enough to sound as if we know what we're doing now.
won't you be the one to speak out?
i say we share our art.
i say we share ideas that sound dumb, that sound too childish, that seem to have no meaning to it beyond being seen & heard & vaguely understood by some other kid who'd only smile crookedly.
i say we try to make some sense in this land by not trying too hard to blueprint it.
i say we give in to wilder impulses more.
i say reach out to folks sillier than you.
i say drag the serious ones to the playground & push them hard enough on the swings to loop the loop, gasp with laughter.
i say we dirty our hands digging for gold, wear holes in our jeans, get glitter in our hair & spit in our eyes arguing about the best way.
i say we're not scared of blood if it comes with grit.
i say we try to figure out things our way before we sigh our father's sigh.
i say we be loud about it.
i say we document our impertinence.
i say we start trying to make it our time.
no, wait- what's wrong with that picture?
where's the anger? where's the dissatisfaction, where's the questions, where's the fight?
where's our youth movement? do we not have wants and desires anymore?
i'm not saying we should be goths or punks or hippies. but we should have a voice, an opinion of our futures, a rallying cry. just because we aren't 5 years old anymore doesn't mean we forget altogether the favourite word of 5 year olds everywhere. ask it! why, why, why can't we do better?
without an inquisitive, challenging voice, we haven't got a say in this. we haven't got a chance.
why are we trying to be more mature than we should be? we're not full adults yet, we shouldn't be the ones sighing & accepting our fates, saying bo pian, such is life, just grin & bear it!
have you seen a true adult's eyes? they are deadened & dull, stoned by the everyday sameness of their existence. they had to forget dreaming or they'd go MAD trying to wade through the same bullshit everyday!
they put these words in our mouths because they believe themselves. why are we so eager to repeat their failures & not make our own?
where's our graffiti, where's our public disturbances, where do we go to be exhilarated at our raw potential to change this horseshit into our own universe? where do we gather to poster the streets with our arrogance, our energy & our visions?
we're drifting around.
awkwardly trying to make friends, make meaning out of our lives, make a living & yes, make love. we be all gangly overgrown arms & feet & hearts we need to grow into yet. vaguely uncomfortable in our father's world, & we don't quite know why. at least we're educated enough to sound as if we know what we're doing now.
won't you be the one to speak out?
i say we share our art.
i say we share ideas that sound dumb, that sound too childish, that seem to have no meaning to it beyond being seen & heard & vaguely understood by some other kid who'd only smile crookedly.
i say we try to make some sense in this land by not trying too hard to blueprint it.
i say we give in to wilder impulses more.
i say reach out to folks sillier than you.
i say drag the serious ones to the playground & push them hard enough on the swings to loop the loop, gasp with laughter.
i say we dirty our hands digging for gold, wear holes in our jeans, get glitter in our hair & spit in our eyes arguing about the best way.
i say we're not scared of blood if it comes with grit.
i say we try to figure out things our way before we sigh our father's sigh.
i say we be loud about it.
i say we document our impertinence.
i say we start trying to make it our time.
staysoft: wlergh newsflash
i'm finding it very hard to give a flying fuck.
if i were still a melodramatic teenager i would call it ennui, world-weariness, or something far beyond my comprehensible years.
since i am not (supposed to be one), this morning i said something much more moderated then,
if i were still a melodramatic teenager i would call it ennui, world-weariness, or something far beyond my comprehensible years.
since i am not (supposed to be one), this morning i said something much more moderated then,
"here are your newspapers... & letters... & morning tea. i ironed them with your silks.
i couldn't help but notice a letter offering butler services amongst your mail.
perhaps you could start finding my replacement there."
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