tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90143148028907935752024-03-14T15:10:53.186+08:00CrappaCrappaHave you had a cup of my crappa crappa, today?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-31313475060819975942012-10-08T22:54:00.000+08:002012-10-08T22:54:00.983+08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Hey dolls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm on twitter, since I don't have the time to blog anymore. Follow me if you still miss my sporadic thoughts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">@InesMariel</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Would love to hear from all of you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">xoxo</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-85209341237510128452012-06-08T22:42:00.001+08:002012-06-08T22:42:54.598+08:00I need to blog more, but I don't feel like it.<br />
I'm sorry to everyone who would actually take the liberty of coming here expecting for new shit, but I can't do it right now. My life is too hectic and frankly I am physically and emotionally drained.<br />
I might delete it, or let it rot in cyberspace. Whatever it is, if I do take up blogging again, I will alert the press... three years from now.<br />
goodbye.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-79862112327673588442012-04-29T14:51:00.000+08:002012-04-29T14:51:01.992+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G-jH9TcfxAA/T5zkYuzOxgI/AAAAAAAAB2s/i4b6U7aYBpc/s1600/292212_10150764556467808_633572807_9339952_560689312_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="379" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G-jH9TcfxAA/T5zkYuzOxgI/AAAAAAAAB2s/i4b6U7aYBpc/s640/292212_10150764556467808_633572807_9339952_560689312_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Popped my UD cherry, and for something as overrated and pricey as this is, it really did live up to its hype. No regrets and it definitely dresses up my wonky eyes.</div>
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BITE ME</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-23674511747545474442012-04-17T17:00:00.001+08:002012-04-17T20:08:17.007+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Wv67bEiWxc/T40tqj64i7I/AAAAAAAAB2A/OIIq4K1D5No/s1600/tumblr_ly2g8zYSjL1qab9j2o1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Wv67bEiWxc/T40tqj64i7I/AAAAAAAAB2A/OIIq4K1D5No/s640/tumblr_ly2g8zYSjL1qab9j2o1_500.png" width="519" /></a></div>
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Basically pretty much all the things I want in general, but since I am going to turn a year older soon....<br />
There is only one thing, and one thing I can't help but want on my list...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0px5T3BMZag/T40wiMK23JI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/mLcuCKjik_g/s1600/Too-Faced-Natural-Eye-Palette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="637" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0px5T3BMZag/T40wiMK23JI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/mLcuCKjik_g/s640/Too-Faced-Natural-Eye-Palette.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too Faced Natural Palette </td></tr>
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Any takers?<br />
It will definitely make my birthday the absolute best.<br />
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*fingers crossed*</div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-32994234499030131732012-04-12T20:20:00.001+08:002012-04-12T20:21:40.143+08:00<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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J'ai rêvé un rêve horrible. Leurs visages, derriere la peau. Entire ce monde et prochain. Leur dents et leurs griffes sortent, essaient de m'attraper. Et ils sont avide. </span></h2>
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Et je ne peux pas les battre. </span></h2>
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Je me suis réveillé en hurlant.</span></h2>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-68297898358659324162012-04-05T22:56:00.001+08:002012-04-05T22:56:19.031+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I know it has been a while since I last posted anything, and truth is I am not sorry at all. Not one bit. Well maybe just a tad guilty since I did promise myself that I would at least post <i>something </i>weekly or if not worse, fortnightly. Anyways the wait is over, as yours truly is here to once again lash out her own personal views about everything and anything you could pretty much live without knowing. Nontheless, for those of you who do come here looking forward to some of my pointless rants, I should warn you, this is not one of them.</div>
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As a matter of fact it is somewhat a serious matter I like to bring forward just because I feel so passionately about. How passionate you may ask? Well for starters this is an impromptu post. Initially I was just going to post a few pictures from Izham's birthday dinner, but since I have the free time, I will just sit down and get typing.</div>
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So about two weeks back as part of the religion class that I am taking, we had to join the community service. Just to make it more controversial and at the risk of making me sound like the insensitive spoilt arrogant bitch that most people make me to be, here is what I honestly think about it :</div>
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<b> It is a waste of my Sunday afternoon.</b></div>
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<b>I could stare blankly into the four walls of my dingy apartment the whole day and still feel like I accomplished something and if it wasn't for the 20% that goes into my carry marks, I wouldn't have even wake up if I knew what the day was going to be like.</b></div>
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Before all of you start collecting stones to throw at me, here me out, and then tell me that you disagree with me. If you have a valid argument, then I will gladly admit I am wrong and STFU for once. But really, I thought this through and through, and I am standing by it.</div>
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First of all let me ask you how is it organizing a sports event serving my community, or to be more precise, helping in any way the orphans? And that isn't even the thing that I am going to bitch about. What I don't understand is why am I spending my whole afternoon cleaning up <u>their</u> house? How is this helping them because the way I see it, all I am doing is their chores. They have people coming each weekend doing the same thing we are doing, and anyone who is anyone (especially those who were there) can tell you that without a doubt, by the end of the day, the house is still going to end up looking like it was or at least I'll give it a week until the next group of idiots come and clean it for them.</div>
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I get it, these are kids who do not have parents, and I feel for them, I honestly do. In fact I admire them, because I can't imagine how I would turn out if I was in their shoes and frankly they did make me realize that I do have it good because no matter how much I complain I am still very much bless with what I have, that I won't doubt, but that is not an excuse to live in the way they were living. I am a firm subscriber to the phrase "<b>give a man a fish, you have fed him for today, teach a man to fish and you have fed him for a lifetime</b>"and what these kids are in dire need of is education and I am not talking academically. Instead of having people come over with their so called "help" of doing their chores, why not have these people educate them on the importance of hygiene or being neat. There is a lot to teach them at the rate they are living right now, so I don't see how playing games half of the day can outweigh teaching them vital life skills when we all know they do not have any strong figures in their lives. Sure they had fun during the games, but kids would have fun with just about anything they can lay their hands on. I could give them dirt and clay and they will make the most of it and it is because they are kids. And as a matter of fact, it is because of that same reason that they need people to educate them on what is right from wrong and at this point it's not just hygiene, I am talking manners, etiquette simple social skills that would make them ease into society because they are no different than any of us, they just need people to hold their hand and help them, and if we did that instead of playing with water balloons I wouldn't have been so bitter and post this. So there.</div>
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Phew. Now that that's over and done with, look, pictures. Of course it wasn't taken by the fanciest camera, but let's all be thankful instead of whining so much about not having DSLRs to make our blog look fancier or Blackberry phones just for the sake of saying "Yehh, you could bbm me later about it". </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hwsM45rDOnc/T32Otr50SwI/AAAAAAAAB1w/qGx0S-bOPig/s1600/IMG00007-20120404-2145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hwsM45rDOnc/T32Otr50SwI/AAAAAAAAB1w/qGx0S-bOPig/s640/IMG00007-20120404-2145.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-63778230488078014862012-03-26T17:56:00.002+08:002012-03-26T18:05:20.611+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For those of you who are already connected to me via Facebook, you would know that last weekend my friends and I came together to support our very good friends; H+D as the opening act for The Life Of Art programme @ Publika. The place itself portrayed an artistic life style, and since it was my first time there, you know we took plenty of pics.</div>
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<i>Orang Gombak lah katekan. </i></div>
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Anyways a bunch of other local acts also performed like Oh Chentaku and OAG, which was a pretty big deal especially for a production as mellow as this. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bhe2eO9CBuA/T3Az-__f4HI/AAAAAAAAB0I/ihamrQoigjg/s1600/DSCF4731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bhe2eO9CBuA/T3Az-__f4HI/AAAAAAAAB0I/ihamrQoigjg/s640/DSCF4731.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3NnnY4ateY/T3A4mBBTNwI/AAAAAAAAB1A/BSW23cnGNxs/s1600/423343_413989038618692_100000227992795_1827206_1191970864_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="423" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3NnnY4ateY/T3A4mBBTNwI/AAAAAAAAB1A/BSW23cnGNxs/s640/423343_413989038618692_100000227992795_1827206_1191970864_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My duck face at its finest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Duck Faces, mine was effortless.</td></tr>
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<br />BITE MEUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-91231879730744606152012-03-05T18:14:00.001+08:002012-03-06T15:06:05.343+08:00The first time I ever boarded an aircraft back to my hometown was with my Dad. We didn't have much money back then so Mum had to stay behind while my Dad and I visited my grandparents. I was 3 months old. Granted, I did not recall the experience, but I soon grew a custom to being carted as I stayed with my grandparents until I was about 6. When school started I would visit them twice a year for Christmas and in the middle of the school year; which meant that I only stayed in school for about a quarter of the year. Life was definitely good.<br />
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I liked travelling alone. I never was a clingy child to begin with and even though I was carted until I was about 15 (or whatever the legal age that allows you to stop being carted), my independence in the airport was definitely liberating. The journey definitely made me feel more of a grown up even though I loved specifying my on board meals to "the children special"..it comes with a sugary treat and a high sodium meal, what was not to like? As soon as I said my goodbyes I was a free man. I could do pretty much anything I wanted. I could buy all the candies and chocolates at the duty free store and no one could stop me. I could order as many fizzy drinks I want or stay up during the whole 8 hour flight...I could run around in circles at the airport and there won't be anyone telling me to behave (not that I did, but I could). <strike>I was such a badass</strike>...<br />
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I remembered a particular flight to Sydney where I met this lady who was seated next to me. I remembered her the most because I was lying to my teeth about the fact that I had 59 cats back home. All she did was humor me and offered a butterscotch candy in between my story telling and when I do get tired from talking she would help me color in the pages out of the activity book that came with the fun pack they normally distributed to kids. I remembered how enthralled and attentive (she might pretend to be, but nonetheless very convincing) she was listening to my made up stories even though I am pretty sure all she wanted to do was to get a shut eye, or shoot my brains out. Thank god she didn't. Unfortunately though, it made me <u>never</u> want to stop talking to her. It was nice being heard and it still is. Amazing how the most minute actions can still make you all warm and fuzzy inside.<br />
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She was pretty old when I knew her, so I am pretty sure she would be gone by now (bless her soul) and even though I can't remember her name, I could still recall what a pleasant person she was and how she would make a very good grandma to some lucky kid out there....not saying that my grandparents weren't equally pleasant.</div>
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I was lying on my bed the other day reading a book (fine, a magazine), and all of a sudden I was struck by images of her and it brought me back to my juvenile years. Full of energy and so animated... I mean, I still am now, just not as carefree as I used to be. It is pretty hard to describe this feeling, but what I do know is the simplicity of your childhood definitely leaves an absence or an emptiness in your life that you know can never be fulfilled. If I could I would go on all day about my childhood, despite my situation right now, I truly did have a good one. I was never deprived off the things I wanted and was blessed to have experienced what most could only dream off while being surrounded with so much love. For that, I am very thankful because even in my darkest hour I could still fall back to my days as a child and be assured that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.<br />
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And I know it will.<br />
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-72992510892053082262012-03-02T13:58:00.002+08:002012-03-02T13:58:55.077+08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dakxBwhq5mE/T0nQH7y_buI/AAAAAAAABzI/nC-_i9PLWms/s1600/DSCF4621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dakxBwhq5mE/T0nQH7y_buI/AAAAAAAABzI/nC-_i9PLWms/s640/DSCF4621.JPG" width="375" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B6nsZxMJ-3I/T0nQZQA-ahI/AAAAAAAABzQ/qHMC4cVdYyM/s1600/DSCF4620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B6nsZxMJ-3I/T0nQZQA-ahI/AAAAAAAABzQ/qHMC4cVdYyM/s640/DSCF4620.JPG" width="304" /></a></div>
My newly shrunken-ed jeans. </td></tr>
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Because of my allergies, I often find myself repelled from anything that contains the slightest amount of peanuts, or any other kind of nuts for that matter. Hence I have never in my entire life dipped my satays in the special sauce it comes with or tasted a macadamia cookie, and peanut butter is no exception until I recently tried it due to hunger pangs and the fact that I was too lazy to get dress to buy anything from the food stall near my apartment.</div>
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Hence the suicide began.</div>
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It was death by nuts or death by hunger and I was certain I didn't want my death to be caused by the latter, so I took the plunge and took a my first bite of a peanut butter sandwich.</div>
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Words cannot describe how it tasted in my mouth, all chewy salty sweet and rich, basically it was like having unicorns vomit rainbows in my mouth while a leprechaun farts gold dusts in it. It was fucking magical I tell you and I can't believe I have been missing this heavenly snack all this time. </div>
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Apart from chocolates of course, but that is a different story.</div>
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After about 6 slices and a few hours to digest it, I realized "Hey, I don't feel the slightest bit itchy in any areas of my body", and that was when I realized that I might not be allergic to peanut butter...but that is as far as my devil-may-care attitude will go. I can't remember the date, but I did remember that that was my first and last time I had a peanut butter sandwich (or eight if you are still counting).</div>
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So about a semester later (a week ago) as I was doing my grocery shopping I stumbled upon a jar of peanut butter in the table spread aisle and decided to get myself one. I didn't have any bad reaction to it the last time, so what is the harm now. Of course a small one is not enough, so I decided that the big one would be an investment especially on days that I don't feel like leaving my house or if it was 3 a.m. and I wasn't asleep yet and needed something to snack on so that I would continue doing whatever I was doing. So yes fast forward to today, I have never go on a day without having a peanut butter sandwich and so far no allergic reactions yet, thank god.</div>
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By now you would be wondering, "why, oh why are you dedicating your post to peanut butter besides the fact that we all know it is delicious and not forgetting fucking fattening?"....well I will tell you why you calorie counting eejits.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v-73IYvD2F0/T1BeUpgE_kI/AAAAAAAABzg/T5Rd-K-1--Y/s1600/460_home2_img1_peanutbutter_skippy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v-73IYvD2F0/T1BeUpgE_kI/AAAAAAAABzg/T5Rd-K-1--Y/s640/460_home2_img1_peanutbutter_skippy.jpg" width="403" /></a></div>
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And a disclaimer before I go on. Organic peanut butter has waaaaaay more nutritional values as oppose to manufactured ones.... but let the rich decide that.</div>
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First of all regardless of what you may heard, and I admit I actually believed this too, peanut butter is in fact a very healthy snack. Yes, it is one of the most fattening foods (apart from fried ones) you could think off and because of this it is not a viable snacking option to many, but people tend to forget that they contain monounsaturated fat which is basically the "good" fats that keep the bad cholesterols at bay. Of course if you use this as an excuse to gobble up a whole tub in one day and come to me with a cudgel because you gained weight, be reminded that fats are still fats. Eat a whole lot of it, and you will get fat. Simple </div>
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Another amazing benefit that makes this magical gunk even more magical is the fact that it is high in fiber and protein. So not only do you expose your waste (shit) better, you get the proteins you need in your diet especially if you are a vegan. Of course I could never be a vegan, but it is nice to know you have options on days where you feel like slaughtering animals are too cruel.</div>
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And if you are in any form of diet or trying to get into your bikini body because you will be going to Penang by June don't be startled when you read the nutritional values on the side of the tub. Despite its calories it fills you up a lot more than other healthy snacks such as raw nuts, granola bars or tea, so you don't really feel like eating your whole pantry at the end of the day. </div>
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So there you have it. A dedication to my new love; peanut butter. And if you are still in doubt click <a href="http://articles.cnn.com/2007-11-06/health/cl.healthful.foods_1_peanut-butter-rice-cakes-source-of-trans-fats?_s=PM:HEALTH" target="_blank">here</a> for an article regarding foods that should be in your diet. Because if it is on the internet it must be true. puahahahaha. </div>
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I shall now end it with a "I think I am cute" picture with my tongue sticking out and my hands as ears.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qf2OSH1ZfE0/T0nRwXq2NuI/AAAAAAAABzY/sTrNaozT-Qw/s1600/DSCF4623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qf2OSH1ZfE0/T0nRwXq2NuI/AAAAAAAABzY/sTrNaozT-Qw/s640/DSCF4623.JPG" width="242" /></a></div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-76901475864996331852012-02-23T18:57:00.000+08:002012-02-23T18:57:42.797+08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QwhoJ9pDh-k/T0YVXfatazI/AAAAAAAAByw/UkbuitPQaPE/s1600/DSCF4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QwhoJ9pDh-k/T0YVXfatazI/AAAAAAAAByw/UkbuitPQaPE/s640/DSCF4605.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wardrobe</td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zcEOA6fWX_w/T0YVxtXe7dI/AAAAAAAABy4/_q2byReRIE0/s1600/DSCF4608.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zcEOA6fWX_w/T0YVxtXe7dI/AAAAAAAABy4/_q2byReRIE0/s640/DSCF4608.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The road to true fitness isn't an easy one. Unless you commit to it and really want it, you will never get there...just like everything you aim for in life. People come up to me in the gym and go "Oh but you are already so skinny". The answer is <b><u>no</u></b>. I am not doing this to be a stick figure, I am doing this for my health. Treat your body well and it will pay you back... for example it will look better in a bikini.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Speaking of bikinis, I get mine from <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://woopzbikinis.com/" target="_blank">Woopzbikinis & Beachwear</a>.</span></span></div>
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Since I have the body of a 10 year old boy, it is a no brainer that I lack in the boob department and buying bikinis are the worse. Thankfully the bikinis they supply cater to petite frames like mine. I love the fact that their designs are very flattering and simple....and best of all very affordable. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-wB95FEdHU/T0Ya58pFt3I/AAAAAAAABzA/L1mx0sGgY4c/s1600/bikinis.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d-wB95FEdHU/T0Ya58pFt3I/AAAAAAAABzA/L1mx0sGgY4c/s640/bikinis.bmp" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0rCW8K3RC68/T0YUsX3_phI/AAAAAAAAByg/phb1PDJvNBY/s1600/DSCF4564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0rCW8K3RC68/T0YUsX3_phI/AAAAAAAAByg/phb1PDJvNBY/s640/DSCF4564.JPG" width="258" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iGdpJwH0LrU/T0YU4lMTsfI/AAAAAAAAByo/bara7PSxjUI/s1600/DSCF4560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iGdpJwH0LrU/T0YU4lMTsfI/AAAAAAAAByo/bara7PSxjUI/s640/DSCF4560.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Oh and my experiment to shrink my jeans worked. It was a spontaneous project, but since my mind can't stop wrapping the fact that my new pair of jeans is so loose on my waist when it is suppose to be a high waisted pair, I knew I had to take the risk. For those of you who are interested in shrinking your jeans, you can follow these easy steps. It will go down a size or two, depending on how often you do it. Right now it is the perfect fit, so no complains.</div>
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1. Soak your desired jeans into hot water. And I mean motherfucker-that's-hot-like-the-sun hot, for around 20 minutes.</div>
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2. Put it in the dryer for 40 minutes. The high heat will actually shrink it, god knows how, but it works.</div>
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Tadah, and you will notice the difference. If you don't, do it a couple of times until you are happy with the fit. If you are still unhappy after the 567th time that you repeat these steps, stop being so cheap, and get a new pair. Hahahahahaha. See? It's funny, cuz I called you cheap. </div>
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<b>BITE ME</b></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-29423716856505655552012-02-18T22:43:00.000+08:002012-02-18T22:43:00.285+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jrKBYWoslk/Tz-2DQEfMSI/AAAAAAAABxs/pwSZlsHDJ4E/s1600/DSCF4573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5jrKBYWoslk/Tz-2DQEfMSI/AAAAAAAABxs/pwSZlsHDJ4E/s640/DSCF4573.JPG" width="475" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ee8P57b1Qxo/Tz-3iPk5tVI/AAAAAAAAByE/CZ8epIv-A9E/s1600/DSCF4575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ee8P57b1Qxo/Tz-3iPk5tVI/AAAAAAAAByE/CZ8epIv-A9E/s640/DSCF4575.JPG" width="288" /></a></div>
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One of the downside of exercising and toning up is the anticipation of fat loss. I am a person who burns fat easily with what my "rigorous" workouts that my new shorts don't fit me as well as it did when I bought them two weeks back. That's RM100 down the drain for ya, unless there is someone out there who can fit into a size 4. I am currently a size 2 now. Losing ass mass, which is far from what I want. =(
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qhnRFe1c-E4/Tz-27fk5h6I/AAAAAAAABx8/bCX2bZbr-mk/s1600/DSCF4603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qhnRFe1c-E4/Tz-27fk5h6I/AAAAAAAABx8/bCX2bZbr-mk/s640/DSCF4603.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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On a lighter note, my love for blinged things is still going strong. That is why I have a pair of blinged earphones. That's how hip-hop I am, son.</div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-64335702718462958772012-02-13T00:03:00.000+08:002012-02-13T00:03:00.820+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvhREFcljZQ/Tzdo20qQ31I/AAAAAAAABw8/WjHd7qYlC88/s1600/DSCF4554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvhREFcljZQ/Tzdo20qQ31I/AAAAAAAABw8/WjHd7qYlC88/s640/DSCF4554.JPG" width="475" /></a></div>
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This is probably my most basic look. A tank top and a pair of shorts definitely screams "Not doing much today but following my Mum around". </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D6neWRJT9qo/TzdpSJX0ftI/AAAAAAAABxE/iTwA2eWQ2ak/s1600/DSCF4556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="475" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D6neWRJT9qo/TzdpSJX0ftI/AAAAAAAABxE/iTwA2eWQ2ak/s640/DSCF4556.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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It is so unlikely of me to buy a pair of flat oxfords since it deprives me of height but at the end of the day comfort will always come before vanity. I am not short, I am fun sized.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wLQ5g6X9I0Q/TzdpjBrf_WI/AAAAAAAABxM/rq0t9WVR7CM/s1600/DSCF4555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wLQ5g6X9I0Q/TzdpjBrf_WI/AAAAAAAABxM/rq0t9WVR7CM/s640/DSCF4555.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Anyways, it is that time again to bitch about random stuff, and today's bitching is about stupid propagandas like these going around the internet :</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eW4EUvuh1nI/TzeTT4v9NEI/AAAAAAAABxc/tGp8cKreh5k/s1600/ss-100107-Vsizeissue-01.grid-5x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eW4EUvuh1nI/TzeTT4v9NEI/AAAAAAAABxc/tGp8cKreh5k/s640/ss-100107-Vsizeissue-01.grid-5x2.jpg" width="481" /></a></div>
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Like fuck, seriously? Coming from an individual who is pretty much lacking in the boob department I am offended, because unlike getting into a size zero you can't just magically wish for your boobs and butt to grow. There is no magic pill out there that instantly changes your body that drastically without altering it's weight. Sure the only way other than going under the knife is to add a few extra kilos, but what female wants to put on weight? It's a lose-lose situation, a two for one deal. Get ass, get muffin top. Get jugs, get fat thighs. And that is if you are lucky enough that the food goes to the targeted area.</div>
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Everybody is born in different shapes and sizes, like it or not, you can't change it. Even if you had all the lipo in the world you can't alter your body structure, just like you can't change your height increase or decrease your height without compromising your health. Sure there are surgeries out there (i'm talking about height here) that makes you taller, but have you seen the agony the patients go through post surgery? Most can't even walk after. </div>
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That's not the case though, because I know how average girls aren't as skinny as the girls you see on runways or in the magazines. That is why they are called <u>models</u> in the first place. They are freakishly weird people that god so happens to love more. Life is unfair, deal with it. But to go on and rave about how curvier girls are sexier than girls who are just skin and bones is just sad. It's like me, patting myself on the back and saying "It's okay. Being tall is for the stupid anyways. Who wants to be tall.", because who are we kidding? You don't see plus size models walking down the runway, and no matter how much you want to change this, it is inevitable. Girls like being slender, just as much as guys wanting to strut around looking like the douches from Jersey Shore. We all want to be attractive at some point.</div>
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Before I continue, don't get me wrong. I am not pro ana. I do not hate on fat people,just the delusional ones that are nothing but a waste of oxygen hating on people for the way they look. So what if someone looks like a gawky ten year old? The industry loves it. They make millions promoting the image, it may not be a healthy one but don't we all have brains to know what is right from wrong? I am someone who is very vocal about my thoughts because I do honestly believe in eating and being healthy despite in awe and idolizing the slender silhouettes. If you hate it, then by all means, stop reading this post. Better yet, stop visiting my blog all together. I do not make money from this blog and I am writing purely because of passion not fame or moolahs.</div>
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Back to the topic.</div>
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As cliche as this sound, I really do believe that everyone is beautiful and attractive in their own way. Of course at times there are some that make us cringe as they pass by, but really what might not seem to be pretty to us can be attractive to others. For example when I go out with my boyfriend and he comments how some girls who walk by are hot, occasionally I would have to beg to differ, (and believe me it is not due to jealousy or anything because otherwise he wouldn't be so vocal about the girls he checks out, which is one of the reason why our relationship works, unless of course if I was pms-ing). Which sometimes lead me to questioning his taste in women because some of the girls that he go for.... are so....umm...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DouxLdCkmPw/TzeMYG6AVvI/AAAAAAAABxU/m1s6s6St37c/s1600/theyz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DouxLdCkmPw/TzeMYG6AVvI/AAAAAAAABxU/m1s6s6St37c/s640/theyz.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Let's just leave it to that.</div>
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Where was I?</div>
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Oh yeah, the girls who are so into "bringing the curves back" need a lesson on the difference between "sexy" and "mammoths". Most of the girls who keep going on and on how size zeros aren't sexy need to take a hard look at themselves, because after all why the hate if there isn't any envy involved? Is it their fault that they have the will power to not stuff their faces every 2 seconds? Or that you have never worked out a day in your life? Or that you have a "disease"that makes everything taste good, and you just can't help it? Even worse quoting Lady Gaga, that "You were born this way?". Fuck it because unless you were born as a bag full of lard, you still have hope, and don't give stupid idiotic moronic excuses like it's all baby fat. First of it's called "baby fat" for a reason, you shed it the minute you lose the infant title, it doesn't stick to you when you are in your 20s. Sure we all want to look like the VS models, heck I would be greatfull if I even came close to having their boobs better yet height, but alas, you can't change it, so why not embrace it? Hit the gym, eat healthier. Your body is your temple, and unless you treat it well you will never be happy with yourselves, no matter how much you starve or put others down.</div>
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Stop complaining about what the magazines are portraying and do something. Again, I am not saying "starve yourself, you big whale", what I am trying to say is "eat healthier, workout", you will notice the difference and feel better about your body image.</div>
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Here is a tip : Try sitting down and see if you have any extra skin hanging at your sides while wearing your underwear, if you still can pinch your fat, it shows you need to work out. If you have zero fat to begin with and are lucky enough to eat almost anything you want without gaining a kilo, it is still not an excuse to avoid working up a sweat. It really helps make a difference. </div>
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Because really, how is <u>this</u> not attractive?</div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-4310953478877592522012-02-09T19:54:00.000+08:002012-02-09T19:54:31.264+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;">It's been a while since my last outfit post, and since I was taking pictures to show off my new top (weee), I decided that it would be passable for this post. Recently, I have noticed that I have made a transition toward long sleeved tops, even though these days it is impossible to wear anything but a tank top and a pair of shorts. It's so hot these days that I can't help but to bend the rules on my no sugar diet. Eating an ice cream </span><strike style="text-align: left;">or three</strike><span style="text-align: left;"> is the perfect way to cool off.</span></div>
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My relationship with sugar isn't really a secret and I love it to the point that my day depends on it. So it may come to a surprise that after 18 years or maybe 20, I am calling it quits. Of course I am expecting the late night booty calls or sporadic hookups, but when you leave something you love you can't just leave it right away. That's crazy. It's like agreeing to give up oxygen the minute you sign a contract. Ultimately you die, and that is how it would be if I immediately ignore the sweet siren calls of everything that is sweet. I will probably foam in my mouth so much that it suffocates me to a point that my eyeballs pop out of my skull causing my death.</div>
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As much as it pains me to slowly cut ties with my love for sweet treats, I know that it is for the best. Working out more, eating healthier and reading more is a the key to becoming a wholesome person, or so I have been told. We'll see.</div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-87451987367855440612012-01-31T16:57:00.002+08:002012-01-31T21:01:53.818+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Valentine's day is vastly approaching and for those who are lucky enough to be basking in love on that glorious day, I wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day.<br />
Celebrating Valentine's Day in Malaysia isn't as depressing as it would have been in let's say other countries, (namely the white countries) since most people here believe it leads to fornication.<br />
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I mean come on. It's a no brainer that the only real reason why a guy does what he does on that day is to get laid in the first place. And everyone knows the easiest way to turn your girlfriend into a wild vixen that she is, is to buy her shiny things or eat at expansive restaurants because what girl wouldn't like to be treated like a pair of tits and vaginas. It's basically the equivalent of your undying devotion to a girl. </div>
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Religion aside it is safe to say that my expectations for the day is and forever will be very low. So don't expect me to get off on branded scarf or by whisking me away to a tropical getaway, because you are just wasting your time, <i>or are you?</i> To be honest if I recalled correctly, I had only celebrated the mushy occasion once; that's if you count "planning to break up with a guy to find out he bought me a necklace and end up changing my mind and breaking up with him the following week" as a way of celebrating, then yes, I only celebrated it once in my life.</div>
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Personally I have nothing against Vday, heck even with my current situation I can still find it somewhat sweet. Yes the argument of "you don't need a special day to proclaim your love" is valid but then again you wouldn't need a Birthday, Mother's Day, Teacher's Day or Pet's Day because of how appreciative you were all year round sending people cards and presents. I am not saying that materials convey love, but just think about the people that you care and needed the reminder. They deserve to feel appreciated. It also stops them from going wild and biting other people's ears off because that is what you call common sense, people. An appreciated person is a person who you are assured will not bite your ears off as long as you keep them that way.<br />
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For those who are not celebrating Vday because they are either single/in a long distance relationship/in an imaginary relationship/in prison and still straight, here are my top 3 ideas on how to<br />
ruin other people's day, namely couples that make you want to hurl out rainbows not because you are alone, but because they are just downright inconsiderate with their sickening happiness and holding hands and sweet banter....yuck.<br />
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#1. Go to the guy (if you're a girl, or vice versa), and say "Because of you" and walk away slowly while maintaining direct eye contact the whole time . Make sure they turn away first otherwise continue until they eventually do.<br />
#2. Hire a musician and get them to serenade you in public. For example if you are ready to go to the grocery store, bring a musician along so that he will serenade you whilst you are doing your grocery. Choose your couple and go to the guy or girl (depending on what your sexual orientation, really) and say "Now I know why you paid for this!" and point to the Spanish guy who is still serenading you with a love song you don't quite know the meaning to.<br />
#3. Wrap a present and shove it back to the nearest lovey dovey couple you can find. This wouldn't be so hard, on the count of couples are formed every 2 miliseconds. Do this with tip #1 to get the extra kick. Priceless I tell you.<br />
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Or the best way to cope with being alone is to give yourself the extra <i>le sexy time</i>, if you know what I mean. Ever notice how by adding "if you know what I mean" at the end of a statement you risk it sounding sexual, for example;<br />
Bananas are yellow, if you know what I mean.<br />
Rabbits are robots, if you know what I mean.<br />
You must be from Costa Rica, if you know what I mean.<br />
Pour the water in the cup, if you know what I mean.<br />
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Hahahaha, I need a life don't I?<br />
BITE MEUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-89904721043400933932012-01-27T10:55:00.003+08:002012-01-27T10:55:51.397+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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To sum it all up, our trip to Langkawi was a dream and I am talking about the food, the people, the island, even shit smells better when you are on vacation. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, and I am not in the mood to start my rants, ta-dah....!</div>
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BITE ME</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-50672973509491957542012-01-13T02:13:00.000+08:002012-01-14T23:30:54.466+08:00Since my previous entry was done in the midst of finals, I never seem to find the time to actually sit down and let my creative juices flow with what my last minute studying and all. After 2 hours of consequent tossing and turning in my bed trying to recover the sleep time I lost from last minute cramming sessions, I gave up. My sleeping pattern is so fucked up these days because not only can I not sleep at night, I find myself dozing off haphazardly throughout the day. Just the other day I nearly banged my head on the toilet wall while taking a shower. As dangerous as it sounds, I was more amused at the thought of my capability to sleep while standing. The only mammal on the top of my head that can do the same is a horse. That pretty much qualifies as talent in my book.<br />
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Anyways, since catching some Z's is near to impossible right now, I guess this would be the best time to write an entry about my resolutions even though I am pretty sure I can barely keep up with it. Because of this I am keeping them really small, minute even, just so I won't overwhelm myself with high expectations just to discover that at the end of the year, I didn't accomplished any of it. So for this year I have made it a point to lower my expectations and start as I said earlier, small. After all the smaller the expectation the lesser the disappointment.<br />
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<b>1. Reducing verbal abuse and assault/death threats.</b><br />
I know it really isn't something you would want to hear from anyone because first of all it ruins your day and your mood. Second, I am pretty sure its a felony in some country, so that shows how scarring words can be. Plus, I am starting to realize that threatening others with words like, "I am going to cut you" or "I am going to pull your nipples so hard and make tiny ribbons out of them" perceives me as someone who is not, in a more polite term "healthy in the head". So yes, I vow that no matter how angry I get at someone or how much I would love to take a knife and stab them numerous times where they would bleed a slow bloody death yet be conscious enough to notice I am stealing their wallet, I would tone down my profanities and keep it to myself, especially because this helps save the embarrassment from people thinking that I have Tourettes.<br />
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<b>2.Start reading the News.</b><br />
I have already started doing this before the end of the year thanks to my current beau who won't stop nagging about my ignorance. By far my biggest feat, even though it really is what you are suppose to do, like squeezing at the end of the toothpaste and not the middle, or sitting while peeing when you clearly don't have the tools to stand. It's called sensibility. And to girls out there who have IQs less than a walrus, gossip columns aren't really headlines.<br />
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<b>3. Exercise More and Eat <strike>Less</strike> Healthier</b><br />
I'm ashamed to say that on numerous occasion I have been to the doctors because I tend to eat more than my tummy can handle and end up barfing it all out. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, trust me it is one of the most awkward conversations of my life, period. Because put yourself in my place, and imagine being told to eat the "right amount of food for your body"? Granted I don't have a large tank as it is proportional to my petite build, but really, being told how much to eat is like being reminded that the right shoe goes on the right foot ten thousand fucking times...in public. Just to be clear, this is totally different from Bullimia because unlike the ED I <b>want</b> the food to stay in my body. With my eternal love for sweet decadent food and the fact that I know I am not fat, you would realize where my predicament starts, unless I start feeling fat which usually follows up to my PMS. Still, even though I love my body, I still think it needs a little bit more toning up. Probably a few exercises here and there, nothing too drastic that I'll end up looking like a bulky gorilla, because really who are we kidding here. Ya hear that sweet marshmallow face of a belly? Ya gots to go.<br />
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<b> 4. Going organic.</b><br />
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Starting with my toiletries. As expensive as they are to stock up, I manage to switch my usual shower gel and shampoo to a more environmental friendly option. Unfortunately though I use 3 or 4 different types of body wash and shampoo in a week because I am one crazy mofo. Anywho it wasn't a massive step to take seeing that I am already a big fan of organic products since they have less harsh chemicals put in them so you benefit from it more. I am also going au naturale with my make up. I don't know what this has to do with "going organic", but less is always more. Plus it will motivate me to concentrate more on my beauty regime. oo la la~~~</div>
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So that's it. My New Year's resolutions. At least it looks a little bit more promising than "not skipping classes" or "not procrastinating my studies" or "save more money". Before I go, here are pictures from Pui Yee's birthday. Had dinner at Silver Spoon and took the party to The Beer Factory. One word : <b><u>Awesome.</u></b></div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-4266056202541093182012-01-03T08:11:00.001+08:002012-01-27T11:43:44.307+08:00<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">"Haters: they hate what you look like, whacha wearing, whacha drivin, whacha think about, whacha talk about...they fuckin hate it but you gonna have to understand thats the way it is.....Have you eva caught a muthafuka starin at you with the "i just caught the stomach virus face"?..you ever just out yo peripheral like.......like everything bout you just fuck with them." - Kat Williams</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Honestly I don't really mine that I have haters because it reminds me that I am still relevant even to the people who loathe my guts and can't stand to be in the same room as I am. It is an inevitable vicious cycle that I myself am a part of. Still there is healthy hate, and there is the hate that is just pathetic. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Healthy hate as I like to practice is by bitching about that person while stalking their Facebook...of course most of the people I hate I have already blocked,so that leaves me and my imagination picturing all sorts of tribulations that eventually lead the people I hate to a slow, but painful death. Like a scene out of Saw. As sick as that sounds it doesn't really affect the person I hate, because unless all of my imaginations come true I don't see how I am hurting them.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which brings me to the other method of hating. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sad, pathetic practiced by ball-less low life kind of hate. A disclaimer : unless you are allergic to other peoples' happiness, it is a mystery how someone can actually choose this path. I imagine that they weren't hugged as much as a child or had to sleep in a kennel when they were a baby, but regardless of what the causes are, it really isn't an excuse. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unless of course you have a face only a mother could love... which by the way really depends, because even Quasimodo had a heart of gold, and he, of all people should be hating on his parents for finding each other and giving him the wrong set of genes, or the whole human race as a matter of fact just because plastic surgery wasn't even introduced back then. Granted, he is a fictional character... so just omit everything I said after Quasimodo.</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah..</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Personally the way I see it is, for a person to devote their valuable time and effort without second guessing to post hate comments really is a beacon of how poignant their life is. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can you imagine how hard it is to think of malicious slurs whilst pointing out all the instantaneous flaws you find the millisecond you open their blog, and worse of all not being able to take any form of credit for it because your low self esteem only goes so far as to only enable you to hide behind anonymity? Sure there are certain high breed assholes out there who can do this effortlessly, but bitch please, if the highlight of my life is to listen to an asshole, I might as well lock myself in the room and hear my own fart. Get it? Fart cuz it comes from your ass hole? I'm funny aren't I?</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would write more, but I really do not want to insult those who are already insulted by my presence but still insultingly comes here often to be deliberately insulted, because really, it is insulting. Like comparing your geography test scores to a sloth. Or claiming that you are better than Helen Keller at a game of spot the not.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy New Year everyone!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P/S : I really miss writing, even for short posts like these despite harnessing the vocabulary and writing skills of a 6th grader. New Years resolution #87247793 : to write more on blog</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P/S/S : I find this song very addictive </span><br />
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<center><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/sC2t_Q-wDME?rel=0" width="640"></iframe></span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></center><center style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BITE ME</span></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-37055486431659077292011-12-15T13:35:00.001+08:002012-03-02T14:03:18.633+08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beautiful Bday Boy <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Just the sweetest couple you could ever meet</td></tr>
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I<b> love</b> food too much not to not mention it :</div>
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Once again, my portion turned out to be much bigger than le boyfriends. </div>
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*FISTPUMP*</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HIS</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I don't know why, but I've been realizing that unless I was doing the photography on my own... I can never seem to pose alone in front of people. I get all shy, sweaty and anxious that while everyone was trying to take an individual picture of me, I can hear Jean's voice in the background telling me to "breath"....Like I was in labor or something. You know how they stereotype Asians and their love for the camera? Well, in public, it is safe to say I manage to break that stereotype. Believe it or not anything public related scares the shit out of me. That is why on first impressions I always come off either quiet or arrogant. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Luckily for me I did manage to salvage one decent photo of myself by reducing the flash in my pupils and preventing me from looking like the living dead. Loved this photo so much, it has become a default on my fb. Puahahahaahhaah. =)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S0bBIbXLmpo/TumEjbucJnI/AAAAAAAABqc/r3E5ktNMRAM/s1600/2011-12-14_22-19-28_594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S0bBIbXLmpo/TumEjbucJnI/AAAAAAAABqc/r3E5ktNMRAM/s640/2011-12-14_22-19-28_594.jpg" width="358" /></a></span></div>
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Still, I think pictures are best taken with company. Case and point,</div>
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Once again, Happy B'day to the wonderful person in my life. Congratulations, you are now legal to go to jail.</div>
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BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-39021728422269392272011-12-13T22:12:00.001+08:002011-12-13T22:16:56.222+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Tfgx3wm93Y/TudWvdq48SI/AAAAAAAABnk/37HPBH1qYVg/s1600/2011-12-12_18-06-43_797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7Tfgx3wm93Y/TudWvdq48SI/AAAAAAAABnk/37HPBH1qYVg/s640/2011-12-12_18-06-43_797.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Those who know me would probably know my love towards food, apart from the usual things that come with <strike>an individual having a vajayjay</strike> being a girl. Don't get me wrong, like any girl out there I am constantly living with the fear of being thicker, <i>of course</i>, unlike most girls out there, I dismiss the thought as soon as I realized that you are an idiot if you pass the opportunity to good food.<br />
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<b>Round 1</b> - Checking out a good place for le boyfriend's birthday. Wasn't too hungry, but still manage to eat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M_lOII58zMU/TudXbk5_r8I/AAAAAAAABn0/WNP5P_yjwLE/s1600/2011-12-09_20-08-22_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M_lOII58zMU/TudXbk5_r8I/AAAAAAAABn0/WNP5P_yjwLE/s640/2011-12-09_20-08-22_640.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINE</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">***</div><b>Round 2</b> - Believe it or not, Breakfast :<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBJS326ecCA/TudXnvY_e5I/AAAAAAAABoE/RNeLbSKJtro/s1600/2011-12-11_08-58-50_976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UBJS326ecCA/TudXnvY_e5I/AAAAAAAABoE/RNeLbSKJtro/s640/2011-12-11_08-58-50_976.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINE</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1TzrmF8IZWA/TudXkY-6mKI/AAAAAAAABn8/mQjJJBPoC-s/s1600/2011-12-11_08-58-43_968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1TzrmF8IZWA/TudXkY-6mKI/AAAAAAAABn8/mQjJJBPoC-s/s640/2011-12-11_08-58-43_968.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINE</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNS4tWjYv08/TudX0R9AXZI/AAAAAAAABoM/E8ayMSPaK4w/s1600/2011-12-11_09-22-09_961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNS4tWjYv08/TudX0R9AXZI/AAAAAAAABoM/E8ayMSPaK4w/s640/2011-12-11_09-22-09_961.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINE</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--muUlKnBj_0/TudYBtiXreI/AAAAAAAABoU/aLDRXIPjPqQ/s1600/2011-12-11_09-22-00_961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--muUlKnBj_0/TudYBtiXreI/AAAAAAAABoU/aLDRXIPjPqQ/s640/2011-12-11_09-22-00_961.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MINE</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cLy6Z1cg4i8/TudYG4njV4I/AAAAAAAABoc/YKXkRhcjg5M/s1600/2011-12-11_09-08-53_757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cLy6Z1cg4i8/TudYG4njV4I/AAAAAAAABoc/YKXkRhcjg5M/s640/2011-12-11_09-08-53_757.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HIS</td></tr>
</tbody></table>In case you picture me as an abusive girlfriend who deprives her significant other of food, in my defense, he had two other plates of food but because they weren't nicely arranged, they weren't camera worthy. Don't blame me, I wasn't the photographer.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>BITE ME </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-25267629036267807632011-12-08T23:37:00.001+08:002011-12-08T23:49:31.971+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FF0VF8xrKIk/TuDRI4OUUzI/AAAAAAAABm0/DKzlwvLVnZ4/s1600/193989_198132440207983_181897858498108_576391_1824467_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FF0VF8xrKIk/TuDRI4OUUzI/AAAAAAAABm0/DKzlwvLVnZ4/s640/193989_198132440207983_181897858498108_576391_1824467_o.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A background story before I go on :</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Le Boyfriend and I got into a fight the day before I was planning this, and since I hate confrontation I ignored him all night. That was when he got bored and started checking through my cell to find that I was texting with someone more than I did with him in one day. That someone, happened to be a friend whose Mum happened to own a quaint cafe called <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Little-White-Cafe/181897858498108" target="_blank">Little White Cafe</a> (more on that later). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anywho, long story short since I was put on the spot and I wasn't very good under pressure, I came up with the next lie that popped out of my head. <b>A party for my ex</b>. Probably not my smartest move, because I ended up caving in and told him the whole plan after I saw how down he was.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It might not have been a surprise, but since in my mind I had already planned for one, I decided to go for the next best thing. To write it on the cake. Granted, it wasn't his Birthday yet, but still, who doesn't like an early celebration? I know... idiots and creepy old people</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jfJRCJn-16k/TuDPyytOGQI/AAAAAAAABmc/sM6MYtVoLHM/s1600/DSCF4501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jfJRCJn-16k/TuDPyytOGQI/AAAAAAAABmc/sM6MYtVoLHM/s640/DSCF4501.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The best thing about having someone you know who happens to own a cafe is that you can ask for favors, and what better way then to personalize your own cake, eh?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Honestly, if they didn't keep an eye on me while I was at it, I would have probably piled up the cake with everything in my sight and it will end up looking like my laundry basket. It tastes better than it looks. Their recipes were the best cuz the cake turned out moist and it was just the right amount of sweet. </div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MtTksDF6sHo/TuDQMg-eMdI/AAAAAAAABms/bjA33d4AgcI/s1600/DSCF4507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MtTksDF6sHo/TuDQMg-eMdI/AAAAAAAABms/bjA33d4AgcI/s640/DSCF4507.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Velvet</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Had my lunch earlier when I was done with the cake and it was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; text-align: left;">delish</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;">. I ordered the </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=183383678349526&set=a.182717961749431.36682.181897858498108&type=3&theater" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Veggie Lasagna</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;"> and gobbled it all up even up to the burnt cheese at the side of the bowl (which, of course everyone knows is the best part...mmm.....burnt cheese). If you asked me, a meal here leaves you as satisfied as any home cooked meal leaves you, and I am not being bias just because I was hungry or that they were kind enough to let me trash their kitchen for the day. Nope, if it wasn't good, I would have probably uploaded the pictures of us posing with the cake. Like this one :</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y8ky5MXZnl0/TuDbyMnEZqI/AAAAAAAABnE/BUWfPCzPifI/s1600/DSCF4500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y8ky5MXZnl0/TuDbyMnEZqI/AAAAAAAABnE/BUWfPCzPifI/s400/DSCF4500.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">or this one : </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VLOpGTclRFg/TuDb7HMLlxI/AAAAAAAABnM/cSwkM8D1O0Y/s1600/DSCF4505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VLOpGTclRFg/TuDb7HMLlxI/AAAAAAAABnM/cSwkM8D1O0Y/s400/DSCF4505.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and ended it with a brief description and a BITE ME. which reminds me,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-33186003427160982952011-12-04T22:03:00.000+08:002011-12-04T22:03:05.970+08:00Two posts in one day!<br />
It could only mean that<br />
a) I have such a great life going on that I can't help but to <strike>gloat</strike> share it with my non existent readers<br />
b) I am making up for my lack of posts<br />
c) I am procrastinating from studying.<br />
<b>d) All of the above.</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8IIrdbkST4/Ttt82EIydzI/AAAAAAAABmM/yTMURm6RBRY/s1600/FxCam_1322210670800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i8IIrdbkST4/Ttt82EIydzI/AAAAAAAABmM/yTMURm6RBRY/s640/FxCam_1322210670800.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
Anyways, Baim's absence from the bowling team left us no choice but to substitute him for Jean. Not that it was a bad thing, since he managed to score the highest. Unfortunately for us, we were at the bottom of the competition. Still, everyone in the team managed to get a strike...something I know I could never do if I ever were to play...I would probably hold the record for <b>most consecutive gutter aim</b> and as long as the blind and the handicap don't join, it is safe to say that the title is still mine to own.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--9pGLg-5Qe8/Ttt6y9myZAI/AAAAAAAABmE/TSrzKpOfmX8/s1600/FxCam_1322210796322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--9pGLg-5Qe8/Ttt6y9myZAI/AAAAAAAABmE/TSrzKpOfmX8/s640/FxCam_1322210796322.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group photo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LDgEBQ7g6X8/Ttt6wMjkiGI/AAAAAAAABl8/xM0XFXOrQoo/s1600/FxCam_1322210573245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LDgEBQ7g6X8/Ttt6wMjkiGI/AAAAAAAABl8/xM0XFXOrQoo/s640/FxCam_1322210573245.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We actin' like bitches cuz we can.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xLI45raoW5Y/Ttt6qjo1vmI/AAAAAAAABl0/F_lUoMXoag0/s1600/FxCam_1322210014679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xLI45raoW5Y/Ttt6qjo1vmI/AAAAAAAABl0/F_lUoMXoag0/s640/FxCam_1322210014679.jpg" width="640" /></a> </div><br />
BITE MEUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-24530021161454220352011-12-04T21:36:00.002+08:002011-12-04T21:44:00.705+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks to the lack of sleep and the ever growing pile of <strike>incomplete</strike> assignments, I was sick on the day of our Genting trip...<strike>so excuse the fuckface from yours truly</strike></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyways there wasn't much to do in one day, and since it was raining most of the rides were closed. We did manage to go on two of them though, so our trip wasn't really a waste. The fresh air was a good change and strange enough the cool weather helped with my sniffles.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S8Z52Vv-jDA/TttuwdQavqI/AAAAAAAABk8/JcuEwa7jtZk/s1600/2011-11-27_11-39-10_109+%255B%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S8Z52Vv-jDA/TttuwdQavqI/AAAAAAAABk8/JcuEwa7jtZk/s640/2011-11-27_11-39-10_109+%255B%255D.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JGcwx3iphf4/TttylV-ewCI/AAAAAAAABls/Wj4qsc7GnwI/s1600/2011-11-27_11-39-55_906+%255B%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JGcwx3iphf4/TttylV-ewCI/AAAAAAAABls/Wj4qsc7GnwI/s640/2011-11-27_11-39-55_906+%255B%255D.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the cable car, the boyfriend suddenly got all "environmentalist" on me and started raving on how it was such a waste to cut down all the trees to make way for development... I get where he is coming from, but I didn't want to be a hypocrite by saying I agreed with him, since to be fair, most of the developments<b> </b>comprises of malls. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's like saying eating meat is cruel when the longest I could ever go without meat was less than a day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">or that I prefer natural beauty when I put tons of gunk on my face to hide my flaws.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">or that I love being <strike>a midget</strike> fun size when 88% of the time I am in heels. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Still, if you think about it rationally, you can't help but agree. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">I admit, I do too. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iOyuu8Ot8wg/Tttu2HdrHaI/AAAAAAAABlE/Yw9g2bqjYKY/s1600/2011-11-27_11-40-56_985+%255B%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iOyuu8Ot8wg/Tttu2HdrHaI/AAAAAAAABlE/Yw9g2bqjYKY/s640/2011-11-27_11-40-56_985+%255B%255D.jpg" width="356" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvACTqipgQI/TttvCm_7JVI/AAAAAAAABlc/W8nGnOYaTTM/s1600/2011-11-27_14-32-38_929+%255B%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bvACTqipgQI/TttvCm_7JVI/AAAAAAAABlc/W8nGnOYaTTM/s640/2011-11-27_14-32-38_929+%255B%255D.jpg" width="358" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d6MgDByq_Hc/Tttu_KOH1zI/AAAAAAAABlU/Eh8tqX8KPOM/s640/2011-11-27_14-32-00_686+%255B%255D.jpg" width="358" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Me, sulking after the fifth time being told to stand straight for the camera. Something we all know I can never do. I seriously think I have a worm problem up in my ass that inhibits my ability to stand up straight long enough for the camera. It is a disease I tell you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zJRuDyf8sJo/TttvHJFpbPI/AAAAAAAABlk/_7gOK8KKtdw/s1600/2011-11-27_16-31-50_616+%255B%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zJRuDyf8sJo/TttvHJFpbPI/AAAAAAAABlk/_7gOK8KKtdw/s640/2011-11-27_16-31-50_616+%255B%255D.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Best part of the trip apart from spending the whole day with the significant other?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>The samples at this shop.</b> I came out of the shop literally full after going around it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Don't judge, you would do the same too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">BITE ME</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-87037532131708749282011-11-20T16:18:00.005+08:002011-12-04T22:38:25.108+08:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tc45o4qMTHY/TsiybCwUqhI/AAAAAAAABkM/WZhsgiC6ZL8/s1600/DSCF4492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Tc45o4qMTHY/TsiybCwUqhI/AAAAAAAABkM/WZhsgiC6ZL8/s640/DSCF4492.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Addiction<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">You know that rush of adrenaline you get when you know your time is about to end and there is nothing you can do to stop it but embrace a tragic and gore death? Like an episode straight out of Saw where no matter what the guy does, he will always end up a bloody end. I am not sure if it describes my situation, but it is similar <i>(somehow, in this twisted head of mine)</i> to the feeling I get when I am flat broke and still manage to get myself a pair of shoes. It is as if I thrive on the rush of living on a 5 ringgit a week budget. Yes you <strike>heard</strike> read me right. FIVE. </div><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">To be fair, I have been looking for a pair of ankle boots for a while now, so you could imagine how excited I was when I found a pair that was in my size <strike>and wasn't sold in Gap Kids</strike>. </div><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">I know, I know. It's 100 degrees in Malaysia and only superficial eejits would be dumb enough to parade around in footwear like these....but you'll be surprise at how many eejits there are out there...and my motto is;</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If you can't beat em' Join em'.</span></div><div style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">And you would think with only 5 ringgit to spare, I would lose the extra kgs and look emancipated by now. No sirrreeee... because my life only revolves around my sad budget, I have to put my gym sessions on hold. </div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JnFpnSShOBY/TtuFqrCp8wI/AAAAAAAABmU/3dV17lveYFo/s1600/DSCF4481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JnFpnSShOBY/TtuFqrCp8wI/AAAAAAAABmU/3dV17lveYFo/s640/DSCF4481.JPG" width="228" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">God knows why <b>even</b> when taking pictures, I can <b>never</b> stay still and my head is always crooked. It is as if I have ADD and can't seem to pose long enough for the 5 sec timer to go off. Oh wait. I do. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Oh look.. rain. weeeee...</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-57154829159678226082011-11-07T21:29:00.000+08:002011-11-07T21:29:45.826+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-83gJTsgGwtE/Trfb83_3sHI/AAAAAAAABkE/PxFWYN2pVh8/s1600/2011-10-15_17-55-46_404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-83gJTsgGwtE/Trfb83_3sHI/AAAAAAAABkE/PxFWYN2pVh8/s640/2011-10-15_17-55-46_404.jpg" width="358" /></a></div><br />
I love how gorgeous the background looks despite looking like crap after 8 hours of<b> working i</b>n sky high heels. I would blame my lack in the height department <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(as the root of all my problems, really).</span><br />
Will probably be on hiatus from now on since I have tons of things to do.<br />
Adios muchachos.<br />
BITE MEUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9014314802890793575.post-82103940227768709202011-11-03T13:07:00.000+08:002011-11-03T13:07:22.198+08:00If you ask me, I would agree on a couple of stereotypes out there about Asians. <div>One of the many being our love for rice and money. </div><div>But the number 1 most undeniable stereotype of them all?<div><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Our adulation towards karaoke.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Case in point,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmDn-nq4dbE/TrIfR9jEmiI/AAAAAAAABjU/cOYqjr8Qf64/s1600/FxCam_1320250936360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmDn-nq4dbE/TrIfR9jEmiI/AAAAAAAABjU/cOYqjr8Qf64/s640/FxCam_1320250936360.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uJdCfwuJiJo/TrIfTaJUCSI/AAAAAAAABjc/mpEM3UjwNNo/s1600/FxCam_1320250956409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uJdCfwuJiJo/TrIfTaJUCSI/AAAAAAAABjc/mpEM3UjwNNo/s640/FxCam_1320250956409.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgjaxBDXppk/TrIfYj1LbTI/AAAAAAAABjk/MvhyW3DVzEA/s1600/FxCam_1320251013560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgjaxBDXppk/TrIfYj1LbTI/AAAAAAAABjk/MvhyW3DVzEA/s640/FxCam_1320251013560.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M9K3TdlMH2Q/TrIfaqZiaVI/AAAAAAAABjs/ZflDkfO5MGE/s1600/FxCam_1320250974304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M9K3TdlMH2Q/TrIfaqZiaVI/AAAAAAAABjs/ZflDkfO5MGE/s640/FxCam_1320250974304.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-glKPyRI-qM8/TrIfdQd8XDI/AAAAAAAABj0/OE5tOF18L9c/s1600/FxCam_1320251473228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-glKPyRI-qM8/TrIfdQd8XDI/AAAAAAAABj0/OE5tOF18L9c/s640/FxCam_1320251473228.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s-_cud9daFo/TrIfgUD6RWI/AAAAAAAABj8/eZgfRMxQF74/s1600/FxCam_1320251384306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s-_cud9daFo/TrIfgUD6RWI/AAAAAAAABj8/eZgfRMxQF74/s640/FxCam_1320251384306.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br />
<div>So what if class starts at 9?</div></div><div>Fuck that I am going to sing my heart out for 3 hours.</div><div>And I can... <b>cuz I'm asian</b>.</div><div>BITE ME</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0