Rabid monkeys with fancy tools

This was the conversation my good and evil conscience had with me this morning.

Me: I don’t want to go for class.
GC: You have to go. C’mon. You’re already awake anyway.
BC: Bah … you won’t miss much, trust me … go back to sleep, you know you want to … Don’t make it hard for yourself …
GC: Hey, hey, you know you’ll feel like shit if you don’t go. ‘Sides, you’ll feel accomplished. Learned.
BC: Accomplished? Pooh. What’s the point, you don’t have to take their exams. You’re gonna extend another sem at USM anyhow.
GC: Your dad didn’t send you here to sleep!
BC: Yeah but what he don’t know don’t hurt.
GC: Don’t disappoint yourself, kiddo. Go for class.
BC: Just go back to sleep .. now there’s a good girl ..
Me: I really don’t want to go .. I couldn’t care less, okay …
GC: Fine. Suit yourself. Don’t go. Shoo. Go back to sleep.

One hour later Julia dragged her sorry ass to class anyway. Goddamed good conscience playing the guilt card. Dammit!

Good conscience is also buggering me to go for church on Sunday morning. We shall see who wins - the good or the hangover.

To make up for the Muse concert which I will be missing out on, I will be going to Amsterdam. So whilst everyone else is jumping and singing along to Plug-in baby, I’ll be busy tending to mushrooms, trying out some special cakes and having a joke. Hah. I feel less like shit now thank you very much.

On a different note, that scene in Love Actually, the part where the guy confesses his forbidden love to his best mate’s wife, that part always makes me almost want to cry. It’s just too sweet. Pooh.

… I came up with this.

3 guys just casually chillin’ …

And then …

Oh my god .. I think I see Lindsay Lohan!

Gasp! Where where where??
There!!!

I think I see her too!

There!

. . .

JEEZ, MATE. I THINK IT’S TIME YOU CHANGED GLASSES.

And that’s that. Hope you enjoyed yourself. I sure did. Heh heh.

It’s one of those moments in time, you know, where you just gotta write it down. Walking home from the pub, crossing a bridge, and whilst doing so, I noticed that there was a swan right smack in the middle of the river, preening itself. At 3.45am. There. Just there. A speck of white (actually more like a blob of white) in the murky water. Preening it-bloody-self. And I stopped to just watch. It was fuckin’ amazing. I mean, what were the chances? And whilst I was in the middle of my reverie, I heard my housemate say "I need to pee." So we continued on our trek home. 15 bloody minutes in the cold. Under the stars. Drunk, high and a little bit lost. And all the while, I just wanted to go back and look at that swan.

Et voila! The meal I cooked. Is the Frenchie cute or what (*cackles as I hears Chong sigh) .. He’s the one holding the spoon up with that mock-nasty face oh he can’t hide his cuteness oh blast it blind me he is just so cute *groupie squeal*

It’s pure torture, this is. Waking up, before I sleep, day and night, dreaming of it .. longing for it .. needing it ..
KIMCHI.
The sourness .. the spicyness .. the crunchiness .. oh god ..
Mission in CoRk: Find some Koreans. Invade their house. KIMCHI RAID!!!!!!!
Muhhhh ……. I’m actually salivating, thinking of it ……….. DOH!

Be mindful of what you drink.

And be mindful of who you kiss.

Typing whilst one is high is no fun,.

Kissing all these men just to taste you
Touching all these men just to feel you
Talking to everyone but you.

I need you-
I need you.
Catch these falling stars I send you.

I don’t think he realizes that he’s being erotic. Or does he .. hmm ..

Yesterday I mentioned that I used to play a bit of the guitar. And he said that I could go to his room in the afternoons to play on his guitar anytime I want because he won’t be in. And this really nasty thought popped into my mind. ‘I’d like to play with your one string guitar instead …‘ Had to bite my tongue to refrain from laughing, and in the process, almost choked on my food.
Today, my ice cream stick disappeared into my ice cream, and he said to me, he said ‘Well if you feel something hard in your mouth, you’ll know what it is …’ And I swear, the ice cream in my mouth almost flew out through my nostrils.
Okay am I being licentious or was he being obliviously suggestive?
His accent is dripping, man. And how he mumbles .. ugh .. gotta dig a guy who mumbles like how he does.

Song: Sunburn, Muse.
Book: White Teeth, Zadie Smith (something I would not normally read. doing it for a class).
Mood: Emo (it’s short for emotional to me).

Spent some time pondering if I was rejecting femininity by rejecting chick lit, chick flicks, chick music and other chick stuff like fashion.
Spent some time thinking about him again. The memories have a certain scent to it. Like a cosy room. Kitchen smell. And a tactile feeling of silk - slippery things. Foam. Fine sand. And there’s the sound of waves when I think of him. Washed out, like. And .. oh .. I miss him when I shouldn’t be missin’ him. His memories kill me the most. His memories eat at my insides day after day, after day, after day.
Couldn’t wake up for any of my classes today. What an embarrasement. Went shopping instead to cure the Muse effect. Spent a whole shitload of money when I should be saving for Eurotrip. But I look at my new clothes and it feels .. orgasmic.
I think that the best line for me today would be ‘I wish I knew how to quit you!’ from … you guessed it right. Brokeback Mountain. But my love is straight, my love is twisted. My love is the vengeance of the jilted. Beware, you have been warned.
Oh I’m so full of shit it makes myself weep.