Media Sex Slaves

I hate thongs. It's not important at all if I hate it or not, it is already too late to even talk about it. I mean, back in the days it was still fresh to say,
"Oh, I hate thongs,"
and girlie mags faked up articles of guys saying,
"Ooooh, I hate thongs, there's nothing worse than taking a girl to bed and she was wearing a thongs instead of cute french knickers."
in a hope of some girls feeling relieved for disliking thongs because they are uncomfortable. You know, just like how we reacted with mobile phones.

I hate thongs and I can never date a guy who thinks thongs are the sexist thing on girls apart from himself. (Got that?) I hate everything about thongs, like why they are called "a thong" or "thongs" instead of "a pair of thongs" like every other undie. I hate turning back to a classmate who was setting a ring flash on a ladder in front of me and sticking her arse onto my face, showing the little triangle or T on her back. (Puuuukkkkyy.) I hate how they were invented to produce invisible panty line yet they are there to be REALLY seen. They are, as someone put it once, BUTT FLOSS. Yuk.

But these reasons are truly not important. I don't like talking about my intimate side, nor my liking/disliking in intimate sides, and it really is NOT entertaining. I frankly don't want to know these thing of my friends, either. (Thus the reason I hate looking at someone's clearly visible thongs on their arse.)

What pissed me off the most and worth shouting about is this;

I was in some house with someone I briefly knew. We were talking about nothing, having tea or coffee, smoking, that sort of thing. And this guy I hardly knew started on an article he read in a paper about a porn star, Jordan, helped boost the sale of thongs in UK, but now she is saying they are a bit tacky.

He went on saying,
"If a porn star like Jordan says thongs are a bit tacky, you would think twice about thongs being sexy, wouldn't you?"
The question wasn't addressed to me, the only female of the species in the room. But I responded anyway, saying,
"It's not like girls went out and bought thongs because they secretly wanted to look like Jordan."

But what I was quietly thinking was,

"Oh, man, can't you even decide what underwear is SEXY for you unless someone famous tells which one is supposed to be hot and gives you a hard-on??"

Mind you, this is the same person who firmly believed the report of,
"Paris Hilton, the most influential person in America."
back in August 2005, (while I said, "Nah, Jessi is more influential, at least she is supposedly married.")

The sad thing was the few guys who were there in the room were all agreeing with this guy. So, now Jordan publicly declared thongs being un-sexy, we have to start threatening our girlfriends to buy boy shorties or we will leave her.

There are a lot of people who can't decide what to shag unless media or peers tell which. I pity these media influenced bi-curiossors, SUN brainwashed 3-way wannabies, and  manga lovers who think they get turned on by REAL Asian chicks.

Dumbarse Tabloid Whores...

What am I saying?

I know I will never use a friend as a lead, and I will never have enough freinds to establish (quote)business(unquote) anyway.

I am barkin' and hoppin' / Current mood: distressed

Wonderful thing, the internet.

I found my arch enemy in Australia. I hate this woman with all my guts, she is evil and she is one lucky mo-fo who always had everything. Oh, yeah, I was jealous, but I started hating her only after she went extra mile to put me down and made me feel so worthless. She was my best friend and kept me around her so all her friends look at both of us and tell her she was smarter and prettier. She never let me win in any aspects. (Otherwise I would be just happy being jealous of this highly over-rated slut.)

 

That put-down thing caused a permanent damage on me, such as I was totally convinced that I will never be as good as her.

 

When I lost weight I felt like I was just trying to be her,

when I changed my hair I felt like I was trying to be her,

whenever I bought a green shirts I felt like I was trying to be her,

and it bothered me enormously that I was so jealous and completely defeated by her existence instead of being OK about me not being her.

And I found her in Australia, after 6 long years, and,

 

Oh, why, oh, why, was she working for my company in Melbourne branch? Of all gazillions companies, she had to pick MY company???

 

It just looks like OUR lives are totally parallel. We worked for same company, we live alone with dogs, we have same hair style, and we are both far away from home.

 

This is worse than losing to her. Why are we same???? Why, why???

 

All of sudden my life has no meaning, because all of sudden I am living someone else's life. What the hell am I doing here?

 

Am I going to join a pyramid scheme like she did and send the link to all my friends? Am I going to lose it like she did?

 

I need to find my life back.

When I Grow Up

When I was a lad, I wanted to be weird things. All kids around me said,

"When I grow up, I want to be a bride!!"

"I want to be nurse!!"

and I never got the tingles of fancy for these typical answers. Nurses aside, I was scoffing at little girls holding their hands in front of their flat chests, dreaming about just (JUST!) getting married; and I was only 6 then.

 

I wanted to be a comedian. Not stand-up kinds, but traditional kind which takes years to train. It's not important what it is I wanted to be. What is important is that I always wanted to be something weird.

 

I guess everyone, I mean everyone, kind of holds ideas of being grown-ups one day. Like,

"Being a grown-up is having breasts and wearing high-heels and planning wedding."

or

"Being a grown-up is smoking cigars and sway a brandy glass and talk about ladies without giggling."

or something like that.

 

My idea of grown-up was, for some reason, somebody who does all the things I couldn't / wouldn't do.

 

This is not the wholesome description of my idea of grown-up, but it was something like this.

 

I guess being a grown-up is like;

eating dried or smoked fish / eating cheese / drinking whisky / drinking wine / reciting Bierce / reading The Times / singing karaoke / singing Sinatra / enjoys mountain walking / and likes everything dull.

 

I know, some of them are plain stupid, just kid's ideas of unknown reality. But they are basically the things I couldn't possibly understand how and why adult seemed to like and enjoy doing.

 

I must have ruminated these elements of adult activities over and over while growing up. I must have tested myself every time I faced smoked fish, daring myself to eat and enjoy it, just to see if I was grown up. (I guess I was very self disciplined kid.) And each time I see youngsters with inappropriately old stuff (like 16 yrs old drinking Guinness,) always fantasized them daring themselves like I did, to test themselves to be adults.

 

And note that I only picked things everyone likes except me. (I don't know anyone who doesn't like eating cheese at all, or doesn't understand Bierce.)

 

Along the way, I did conquer few things. I hated drinking wine, but now I am addicted. Smoked fish made me sick before but now I love them enough to marry. And each time I feel older, and wonder what the next step would be. Wine is actually the most recent conquering. I still cannot believe that I can empty a bottle in one night and do enjoy it. And I can't help but to think if the next one is singing My Way on karaoke, or drinking scotch on rocks, because if I could drink wine, anything is totally possible. I can go skating to work. You never know.

800!!

Yeah, yeah, 800th HIT!!!

Thanks for whoever hit the right button!!

Hardcore Gardener

(My mind full of ideas.)

 

When you have decided to be a little bug and do nothing but moping and crying, there are few things get neglect around you as a result.

 

In my case it varies; sometimes I just challenge to push the limit of trying out every single pair of socks, which usually takes at least 3 weeks of no laundry (which, is NOT AT ALL long enough for me to go through every bra I own,) ; sometimes I go weeks without doing shopping; sometimes I go weeks of not going out of the door; and sometime I just don't do my garden.

 

My garden suffers from my self-pity particularly in winter. It's very easy to neglect the garden in cold days because there is nothing much to do to begin with during the season, and you just feel so little guilt not doing anything.

 

 

I know it just adds oddity of my characters, but I have been a serious, hardcore gardener since the age of 10. At the age of 12 my experience extended into specialist wild orchids, and I was submitting an article or two to gardeners' mags. I was also addicted to winning prize plants from these mags by sending postcards in with some answers to some quizzes.

 

My favourite gardening style was always true to British hearts, and my life took its course to where I am today. When I was 19, I was listening to Classic FM and doing culinary gardening in student halls. I was so close to switching my staple food to cucumber sandwiches.

 

Yet, it is so easy to forget about it for a while, when you are not in the mood. I managed to kill off my entire pelargonium collection this year (well, due to weather, more than anything, but I could have made more effort.) and my garden is looking totally deadish, like a blank canvas.

 

This week I stood in the middle of it, dreading what I haven't done, feeling like it's the end of an era. Then I realize my grown-from-seeds almond tree sprouting. I thought it died last November. And wood anemones are out there already. And the Dicentra is bigger than ever, while Lupin is growing without being demolished by slugs.

 

Gardens are so forgiving. Just like Fuji Neopan 400. Great latitudes. I can start over without resetting.

 

....Someone once asked me why I am a gardener for so many years, what's the appeal. I guess this is the answer.

 

OK, I will do more chilli this year, and onions and chives. Maybe cherry tomatoes. And NO mushrooms.

Happy Birthday Bobbieeee xxx

I love you so much  and love that you were given to the face of earth by your mummy dearest. Happy happy birthday, Bobbie

Yet Another Year Went By

Today is someone's birthday,

Tomorrow is someone special's birthday,

it always is, each day temporarily belongs to someone specials.

I am no longer feeling -ve at all, almost entirely not pissed off, either.

And, yes, am celebrating hard and seriously tomorrow.

Ruin It For Me, Babes.

Talking about spoilers, I have favourite arguments to make with people who watched certain films. They are usually about MEMENTO, and AMERICAN PSYCHO. I pretty much instantly judge people based on their arguing points. I am such a twit like that.

 

Needless to say, one cannot have either argument with me if one has not seen either film, because I am not about to tell you the biggest secrets of the films. But in SUCH a case, I still make snap judgement because MEMENTO is just so important to me, and AMERICAN PSYCHO is just so bad.

 

Anyone want a challenge?

Spoiler!!

So, I have like 134 films (and some TV stuff) I have set aside because they just make me cry and hate my life and everything. I am the only person who cry my eyes out watching Dodgeball, or, Zoolander, or Will & Grace, or Very Bad Thing, or Charlie's Angles. Oh, OK, my love for Ben Stiller certainly made me get over some phobia, so I am OK with Zoolander and Dodgeball now, but they still do make me quiver at some scenes.

 

My parents, for some reason, thought it would cheer me up if they send me the VHS tape of Zatoichi. They sent it to me like 18 months ago, which they taped it off TV. I was thankful, as I knew for a fact that my father only recently mastered how to record thing using the VCR. However, for the same reason Zatoichi was just another film I couldn't possibly watch. I apologized to my folks and said I will watch it once the sufficient time has passed and I feel OK.

 

18 or so months passed and I still haven't watched it. But I am beginning to feel like watching it. I just need one more push, so I can start to feel like I can no longer remember why I felt uneasy watching the film.

 

I was saying that to my mum, hoping for her to give me that final push, and she goes,

"Oh, Zatoichi is light and funny, you will enjoy it. He directed well, you know."

I was listening on her opinion of Takeshi.

 

"Well, you know how fantastico the whole story is. The older, original ones were just laughable and I cannot believe anyone appreciate it without child-like enthusiasm,"

That's good, mum, it's working. I just need to hear how silly it all is, and  I can laugh it off!

 

"But, well, because it is revealed that he wasn't really blind in THIS film, it's all more believable."

"MUM!!!???"

 

I was stunned and just forgot about the whole anxiety. I was just blurting out.

 

"Mum, I cannot believe you gave away like that!! I DID NOT KNOW that spoiler, no-body told me for as long as till now and you just spilt it all out!!"

 

God, mum was squeaking with laughter, I was hysterical. I certainly forgot why I was tearful just thinking of the film. That bit is gone. Amnesia. Adios. Allo, mom bebe.

 

Will watch Zatoichi soon. Am sure I won't enjoy it, mum ruined it already.