Tml is my deathday. I am so dead. Two projects, one by tml, and one by thurs.
Meanwhile, I did not go for an exam, and I need an mc for the retest, and I did not see an doctor. So, I decided to liquid away the dates of a former mc, and photostat it with correct dates, but i dun think the school would accept that. If they suspect something, they might call up jurong polyclinic, and I WILL HAVE MY ASS SUED OFF.
My brother is having his streaming exam (maths) tml, and he does not even know the difference between multiples and factors.
I am so SCREWED.
Plus I dun even have a bf I can complain to. Suddenly there ain't any guys in my life. I may as well be staying in venus. I hate everything. Bleah!
No blogging tonight. Except for this miserable paragraph.
Every so often you hear people whining about how they feel have having a total change of image. Or maybe not people in general, maybe just June. I assume everyone would have a friend who is like June.
June went through drastic changes in her poly years, from Ah lianish, to glamourous (with permed long hair, make-up and flamboyant clothes), to act jap (Big tees and sneakers with short cropped orange hair), and now, since her eyes are beginning to reject the contact lenses (just like Jeremy rejects me, tears result), she is keeping the "I-may-look-nerd-but-I-am-superior-because-I-am-smarter" look with the specs she has on.
As for me, I have been floating around bimbo and more bimbo, because:
1) I like shiny things. Diamantes. Silver. Gold. Diamonds. Gimme more.
2) I like pink (alot. I cant help it, dun blame me.)
3) I like ribbons and stupid lacy stuff
4) I have to wear heels because I am so bloody short.
5) I have a stupid perky butt.
Finally, I have decided on the image to have. In fact, I have decided for some time already.
I shall look rich.
From now on, when I try on clothes, I wouldn't bother to ask, "Do I look nice in this?". Instead, I ask, "Do I look like a million bucks?". When I do my hair and the stylist asks if I want punk, or normal, or pretty, I say, "I wanna look like I paid you 300 dollars to do my hair."
I want people to ask my friends, "Hey your that short friend very rich issit?". I want people saying that I am of a higher breed (not that I am not!), and the norm.
Difficult to achieve, but I will try.
Let we explain the different types of rich looks one can have.
1) Typical Taitai
The typical taitai look everyone knows. A silly withered old lady with tons of make-up and many diamonds and a poodle who is clad in LV (Why, LV is only good enough for her dog, my dears.)
Forget the typical taitai look. I am too young for that.
2) The ACJC kid.
I ripped this pic off my friend's class website. Anyway, the girl looks ok-rich, but the guy. Ha! He looks like his daddy owns 5 fish farms or something weird like that that you can monopolise. I hope they don't ever see my page.
Anyway, the typically JC-my-daddy-is-fucking-loaded teenager would be a christian (with a tiny silver chain with a cross to tell everyone.) walking around loudly with a bunch of friends from school, hanging out in macdonalds with textbooks, has orange socks/bags, has a mountain climbing thingy that is uselessly hanging on their orange bags (sometimes it could be hanging a baby sports shoe), and weirdly all seem to own 7250s with Singtel lines. They would also have braces and would never let their socks exceed 5mm, and they dun shave their leg hairs, and they all have this tanned sporty look coz they swim everyday in their own swimming pool, coz if they don't the stupid water gets wasted, never mind the fact that africans dun have water to drink.
Forget the ACJC kid look too. I dun own anything orange, I dun even know what the metal mountain climbing thing is called, my friends are outta JC already, I do not own sucky nokia phones with only 4096 colour. And I shave.
3) The Slut
The slut would typically be in big hair and big clothes, lotsa make-up, curls and the norm, you can imagine. She looks rich alright, with her multitude of diamonds and little LV bag, and perhaps a little poodles as well. In other words, she is the younger version of the taitai. The porsche she is driving? Belongs to her boyfriend, who possibly has a few kids who are in ACJC.
***
I know what you people are thinking.
BUT NO!!!!!!!
I don't wanna look like a kept woman (which I think I do)!!
But neither can I achieve the family-rich look. How? I would thus try my best to look like I got rich on my own, by doing it the amataur way, drowning myself in expensive stuff. The conclusion on how I got rich would be up to people to judge.
To further complete the image, I bought a Gucci cap today.
Here it is:
I know thats not a Gucci cap. Thats a corrupted doll. It is rich from bribes. It smokes marlboro at a young age, and it uses an 8910 to talk business. You may say that the 8910 looks too big for it, but Paw (his name) doesn't give a big f*** about what u say, bro! It rocks!
-_-
Ok I digressed.
Here it is:
Nice? Its authentic, from a shop near City Hall, and it is only $60 coz its imported direct from Milan. I LIKE.
And it matches my Gucci bag!
Wahahhaha...
I also bought diamond gold earrings. Fake la of course.
Speaking of fake branded stuff, I am reminded of something that my friend commented on yesterday. I was just showing her my latest fake acquisition....
A Mont Blanc pen I bought for 10 bucks from the Pasar Malam at Jurong East. I did my homework and went to Mont Blanc's boutique to see which model is really existent before I made my choice at the pasar malam. It is 100% alike, and the original costs $700 plus.
I am personally very happy with my purchase. But instead of the usual "Wow, nice pen ah" comment I get, she gave me a disgusted look and claimed that she would rather get something without brand than something which is fake.
I know alot of people think that way, but I beg to differ, with two very good reasons.
1) My replicas are still more expensive that your no-brand stuff. Yes, my LV is fake, but its not cheapo. There is nothing embarrassing about the price. Its a hefty $150 bucks. Are any of your no-brand bags that price?
2) My replicas may not be authentically sewn by people in Paris, but at least they are designed by world famous designers. And they are nice. I pay a fraction of the price because I pay for the design, and not the materials, workmanship, or branding.
Yup. But the stupid image has one scary point, besides looking too stuck-up. I might get robbed, with good reasons too. Heres what you would get on an average day:
1) 
Its a gift from daddy. Daddy is not rich, but daddy is an antique seller. He bought the watch 10 years or so ago, and he wants to keep it till it is mouldy so that he can sell it as an exquisite antique which is not in production anymore. Meanwhile while the watch matures, I get to wear it. Wonderful.
Cost price: $2000. Resale value: $1100.
2) 
I would be getting my clie on Tuesday! I bought it at $450 on yahoo auctions, but its selling at $599 at stores. Wonderful again. Now more blogging for you people coz it is easier to type with the keyboard. Am I nice, or what?
Cost price: $450. Resale value: $450.
3) 
Present from mum. Dad gave it to her. I like it!
Cost price: $400. Resale value: $300.
4) 
A Samsung T500.
Cost price: $468. Resale value: $580.
5) 
A nokia 8910.
Cost price: $430. Resale value: $450. I bought it cheap.
6) Sony Cybershot U20, in Rose, pic above in the scrolling marquee.
Cost price: $420. Resale value: $380.
6) Nomad Mp3 player, 128mb.
Embarrassing to put picture coz its full of scratches. Its pink.
Cost price: $150. Resale value: $70
7) 
Levis 593, although I think robbers wun be so cruel as to rob me of clothes.
Cost price: $99.50. Resale value: $60
***
Miscellaneous fake branded stuff the robber can also get. It is even better for him, because when people ask him whether the thing is authentic, he can answer that he doesn't know, he thinks it is real, because he robbed someone of it and on the same robbee he managed to get a rolex.
8) 
LV cherry blossom limited edition pink papillon bag.
Cost price: $150. Looks like: $1,699 if it is held by Zoe Tay, $150 if it is held by me (I'm honest about buying fakes), $0 if it was held by ah lians/minahs. It is not that they reduce the value to zero. It is just that they stole it.
9) 
Prada hp pouch.
Cost price: $10. Looks like: $289 if an 8910 is inside, $8.50 if a 3310 is inside.
10) Gucci bag, pic as shown above.
Cost price: $37, freaking cheap. Looks like: $1,299 if an Mont Blanc pen is clipped in it, $49.90 if slung on a bangala. Don't laugh. I saw an old uncle wear a cheong Gucci hat. And I mean old, like 70 years old. The worst thing is, the hat is NICE. June and I wanted to ask him where he got it, but we were afraid he would hit us with his walking stick.
11) Mont Blanc Pen, pic as shown above
Cost price: $10. Looks like: $729 if I used it while sipping champagne in the yacht, $15 if I used it to draw graffiti in school (look, at least i earned $5 for its face value).
*****
Calculate yourself if u want I guess... But nobody would do it coz everyone thinks I am a stupid rich stuck-up bitch. Awww.. Its just a silly image.
Yikes. I shall go sleep now. What a ridiculously long blog entry.
I'm sorry peeps, I'm really busy recently, just handed in two major projects yesterday, and theres more to come up on weds and thurs. If I get thru this alive, I will (it is confirmed) continue blogging.
Meanwhile, I would like to say that I am sorry for leaving that previous post hanging there... Actually what happened was just a misunderstanding, I would explain after thurs k?
And thank you, for all those of you who click on my page daily despite the scary picture. Love ya all!
This is a song for you guys:
This is the song that doesnt end! Yes it goes on and on my friend! Some people started singing without knowing what it was, and they continue singing just because this is the song that doesnt end! Yes it goes on and on my friend! Some people started singing without knowing what it was, and they continue singing just because this is the song that doesnt end! Bleah.
I am so angry!!!
Urghhhhhhhh!!! Really really unfair, what happened today. I didn't blog about it because the person/s I will be complaining about might will see the blog.
BUT HECK.
He and she deserves a big piece of my mind slinged at them, and it will be dipped in concentrated sulpluric acid too.
Meanwhile, a small piece of graffiti on the bus says it all for me.
In fact, I was feeling slightly better already, and then I saw the little msg (I assume it is written by God for me, as he doesnt like to see his children being victimised. Didn't know God vandalised too), and my wrath increased 3-fold again as the words rang repeatedly in my head in a low evil voice.
Amazing what random graffiti can do. Imagine if it were a sexually abused niece who saw the message, and it causes her to realise that she should not allow herself to be a sex slave to her uncle anymore. She might just take a knife and kill the bloody uncle tonight, no? All because of a little bit of graffiti.
Anyway. I am not a slave and I will not allow myself to be one.
On a happier note, I am gonna meet up with Ghimz the Giam, Potty Peiying, Dong the Dumb and (Eekean's name is changed after she enters Law) Wong the Lawyer, my RV friends whom I have not met up with for a long time. Thus, I would not have time to tell you guys the full story now, so I shall do so tonight.
Please stay tuned, and let me know what you guys think k! I need support!
I am really fat. I am fat around my tummy and thighs. Before you fall asleep immediately with another typical "I'm so fat" entry from yet another stupid female blogger, with horrible nightmares of me slapping you with flabby meat around my tummy, listen to me whine first.
I am so fat, that my new phone is mocking me.
I bought my dream T500 from Samsung, heres a nice new picture of it.
Ok, I'm very happy that Jealous June managed to help me find the gold colour one, which is a limited edition. The front LCD can be changed to different pictures, and the diamantes has LED lights underneath it, so it can sparkle in violet, orange, yellow, green, blue and sky blue when people call.
How wonderful. My phone is the prettiest in the world.
The 65,000 colour screen can also be transformed into a good mirror. See my camera being reflected?
Anyway, since its a woman's phone, it has some saboh functions.
1) Fat calculator
Heres my fat calculation:
Bullshit! You have not seen my tummy, sascastic little piece of shit.
2) Pink Schedule
The pink schedule, as predicted, is meant to calculate menses. It also calculates for you, as if you have sex every single day, the possibility of getting pregnant today.
Lets have a look at mine today.
BULLSHIT.
I am so fat, that no one is shagging me at all. In fact, no one has shagged me for a long long time. MY PREGNANT POSSIBILITY IS ZERO. How can I get pregnant when no one is shagging me? As far as I know, I am not a bloody fish, so sperm wouldn't swim about and enter me.
99% indeed, sascastic piece of shit.
I am so fat, that Eileen told me that her friend asked her whether I drink alot of beer coz I have, obviously, a fat tummy. Ok I am done with the whining, so, depending on your sex you can know nod your head violently and say you understand totally, or fall asleep with nightmares of Spongebob Squarepants shagging Patrick, the pink Starfish (watch that cartoon, its funny).
Welcome back (from your nap, if you are male).
I got pretty much upset by that comment. I do not drink beer. And the beer is not happy as well, because it would not ever have the pleasure of causing a tummy on me, as I already have one. And people are giving it the credit for something it didn't even attempt to do.
Anyway, the point is that I should do something about the humongous tummy, which is so big, that if I stupidly walk into a wall, the first body part that would touch the wall is my belly. And I am not doing the limbo rock.
Now thats horrible. At the end of Project Reduce Tummy, I should be able to walk into a wall with my boobs touching the wall first. Following that would be my toes, and then my eyelashes, and then my nose. My tummy will be so trim, my pelvis will stop it from ever touching the wall.
I will be able to look at my toes without anything blocking my view while standing up. Now, being able to look at my toes while standing upright will have absolutely no use of course, but it will give me an infinite amount of satisfaction.
How do I go about the diet? I am not willing to give up food. But good food costs money. So I shall not bring any money to school from now on. Urgh, forget it. I am not gonna give up food.
So I shall purchase a girdle. For males, a girdle is something you put around your waist so that when you wear tight clothes, your tummy would not hang out like a giant tumour. I shall wear my girdle at home as girdles are socially unacceptable.
I imagine this to happen when I wear my girdle to prance around.
Piece of Fat from KFC Chicken Skin (to itself gleefully): "Oh man!! I'm a piece of fat! I will destroy Wendy's life! Hmmm, let me see where I should reside in... I think I might want to go to her elbow. Wouldn't it be very funny if she has fat elbows? Or maybe fat eyelids? But gosh... I think I would be so lonely there. No other pieces of fats will be there. Thus, I shall go to her tummy where there are alot of fats."
The POFFKFCCS tries to travel to my tummy, which is binded tightly with the girdle.
POFFKFCCS: "Oh no my friends! Why are you all so unhappy here!"
Chorus from the numerous pieces of fats: "Its a GIRDLE! We are so squashed! Some of us are thinking of migrating to BOOBS and ASS!"
POFFKFCCS: "Oh no, I want to stay here with you guys!"
NPOF: "NO SPACE!"
Dramatically, some of the numerous pieces of fats suddenly collapse and die just to prove their point.
POFFKFCCS shudders and cries: "I guess I would get out of the blood steam later then, see you guys!"
The POFFKFCCS sits comfortably in the intestines, and falls asleep. When it awakes half and hour later, it sees a piece of Brown Unidentified Object floating around.
POFFKFCCS to BUO: "Hey bro! Why are you looking so glum? Oh no, you stink! Anyway, I'm a Piece of Fat from KFC Chicken Skin! What are you exactly, a liver?"
BUO: "I'm a piece of shit."
POFFKFCCS: "Oh COME ON! Theres no need to be so pessimistic! Life can't be THAT BAD! Now stop calling yourself a piece of shit. Coz you are not, ok! Ok seriously, what are you?"
BUO: "I'm a piece of shit."
POFFKFCCS: "Duh. Since you wouldn't cut the crap, I would like to enquire where we are heading towards now. I would get to get out of the bloodstream at THIGHS, would you be so kind as to notify me when we reach?"
BUO: "We have long passed THIGHS while you were sleeping. We are now heading towards ANUS."
POFFKFCCS: "OH! Thats cool! A new place! I have never heard of it before. So will there be many Pieces of Fats at ANUS? Those are my friends!"
BUO: "I hardly think so."
POFFKFCCS: "That sucks."
BUO: "You wish. It doesn't suck but sort of squirts instead, and we will end up where there are many Brown Unidentified Objects like me. I don't like them, they stink."
POFFKFCCS: "Oh man! How did you discover that I called you Brown Unidentified Object secretly?"
BUO: "You and the rest of the word didn't believe me when I said I am a piece of shit, so there must be an alternative name."
POFFKFCCS: "Hey look! I see light! I see the sea! Is this the sea?! How exciting!"
BUO: "This is the toilet bowl. The sea isn't yellow, you fool."
*****
Ahhh... Thats how I will become Miss SlimTummy in a short while. The problem now is how to purchase a girdle without dying of embarrassment.
If I survive, I might be able to get him to shag me.
Fucking cute, Jeremy is. Haiz, I'm really really so so so in love with him. I'm dying.
Indeed, it has been quite some time since I last clicked on the blogger link to type out some words... Within this short period of time, many things have happened... More good than bad, I would suppose, but meanwhile, I would like to say that I have somehow lost the momentum to blog, and only when something happens and I would really wanna express my thoughts about it, then would I be inspired to write again.
And this something, is almost surely a sad thing, because I don't really need to complain about happy things, do I?
Alright here it goes, and I am really sorry that my first post after a long time is so pessimistic (Perhaps it will turn into a happier tone after I finish blogging about my discontent).
The guys I like, all seem to think and consider for centuries before they make their decision to be together with a girl. What do I mean? Okie, lets consider the past few guys that I have liked. Chronologically, Adryan, Eddy, and then Jeremy.
All of them keep telling me that they dunno me well enough to be together with me, and vice versa. ("we have just known each other for 4 months, you don't even know me well enough to be sure you like me" etc)
I have always associated this trend with smart people.
For example, in rural Indonesia, people get together easy. A farmer sees a village girl, and he asks her, "Hey, do you menstrate every month regularly?". The girl says Yes. The farmer would then smell the girl a little to check for body odour. If there is none, he marries her and continues to have some 8 children who grow up on wheats.
Now, intelligent men think different. Before making yet another mistake in a relationship and thus wasting their time, money and energy, they consider factors to see if the girl is a suitable person for them before rushing into a relationship. Factors like communication. Character flaws. Chemistry. Fetishes. Whatever. So they will build the relationship on friendship first, and only after 50 years of friendship will they get together with the girl, although by then whatever good points you might have associated with her could be gone, eg big perky boobs.
So, my point is, whenever I see couples together, I would think to myself... Did they get together easy? Did the guy just snap his fingers and hoola, the girl is an official gf to bring home to show mum?
(Since stupid people get together easy and marry early and give birth to more babies, we can predict that the world is gonna be a stupider place in future, but its a long topic, so go figure yourself whether this is true)
I look at these couples, and think to myself: Should I settle for someone who rushes into relationships? Ah bengs, for example. Or Eric, Henry, and Nondescript guy, all of which asked for my number? Or desperate guys? Am I THAT desperate for a bf?
I would proceed to take a closer look at the male counterpart of the couple I am looking at, and think to myself, "Come on, Wendy... Even if he is intelligent enough not to rush into a relationship, would you accept this fellow as your bf?"
I would then scruntinise a little further, and realise that the guy did not cut his toenails, wears his t-shirt tucked in, is freaking ugly, and etc things that I cannot accept in a bf... I would proceed to violently shake my head in public, which is thoroughly embarrassing btw, but can't be helped, and tell myself that I should settle for nothing less than what is stated in my Boyfriend Criteria List.
BCL states that
- Bf must be good looking. I'm sorry, blame me for being superficial, but I simply cannot bring myself to kiss an ugly person. I'm sorry, ugly people, but you all should consider plastic surgery. Oh btw? I am removing all my comments links so that you ugly people will not have the pleasure of dissing me in public. You can always email me with a stupid RE like "FUCK OFF YOU BITCH" and I will cleverly delete your mail without opening it.
- Bf must be smart. I am sorry, dumb people, but I have nothing to say to you all. Dumb people dun understand my jokes, thats why there are spammers in this site. In other words, my boyfriend cannot be a spammer too.
- Bf must have sense of humour. Yes. I dun want the male version of shu nus to be my bf. He must be able to make me laugh, and laugh with me.
Thats it. Three simple criteria, is that very difficult to find? Some people will be thinking now, "Wah lau, please lor, you want a guy who is cute, smart, and funny. Look at yourself in the mirror first lor... You think you can match up to that standard meh?"
Yes. I can. If I insist I can, no one can say I cannot. I know I am not ugly for sure. I am not dumb either. So why should I let any one of my criteria slip? I shall not stop hunting till I find the right guy (who likes me back, which is the difficult part).
Anyway, my point is.
Today in the MRT I saw this couple again. Frankly speaking, they are ugly. Its ok to be ugly of course (as long as you are not trying to be my bf), but their paws were all over each other, and thats disgusting. Its really sad to be ugly because if Gigi Leung and Aniki Jin had their nice manicured paws over each other on the MRT we would film it down and think how wonderful god's creations are over and over again as we watch the tape. (but of course this is once again another topic altogether, and maybe I will talk about it another time).
So. I asked myself the usual question. Did they go through a tough time before getting finally together too? Would I settle for the fellow even if he wanted me?
I proceeded to control my violent head shaking a little and turned to face my left.
And there, directly in front of me, was this cute girl.
I noticed that she has a small bandage over her arm, the kind we get after injections.
I was just considering whether I would agree to be lesbians with her if she wanted it when I realised she is straight. Of course. The fellow sitting beside her is fucking handsome. If I could get a guy like that, I would remain straight too.
He was in a sleeveless top and muscles were bulging beneath the smooth golden skin.... A chiselled jawline, sharp nose, and he honoured his gf with a groin melting smile while my knees buckled.
And then I realised. Fucking hell. This fellow was from my secondary school. I know he is. Now there a thing about River Valley. The guys are quite hideous. There is the occasional relatively good looking one, but there is no fucking cute guy. Certainly not this standard.
In secondary school, he looked like shit. No one would have taken a second look at him. And now, he has grew up to be a cutie, and I have lost my only chance of ever being with him when I could see him everyday for 3 years in the past.
Urghhhhhhhhhhh. I looked down at the slippers I wore. Plastic blue flip flops, courtesy of my brother. Fake Gucci bag. Unshaved shins beneath cheap caprises (if thats how its spelt). Face scrubbed nice of make-up. Very very bad hair day. I'm usually not this ugly, but today I just went to school for project meetings and there is no need to dress up.
Not that I would have stood a chance anyway.
He looked at no other women all this while except his gf, and gingerly, he put his arm around her shoulder. Usually the fingers would be wrapped around the arm, but his were hoverly gently just above her arm, careful not to touch her skin. He then smiled at the girl and poked a finger some 5 cm below her injection, and asked if is hurts here.
The girl pouted a little, nodded, and said, "a bit numb numb like that lor". They laughed a little and his arm remained there, his nice fingers now wrapping around her elbow, a safe distance from the wound.
How heart-breakingly sweet. I hoped the person sitting beside the girl would give her a cruel jab in the wound just to break the scene into something less diabetic. But no such thing happened, as the auntie shoving her children around couldnt care less about my feelings, so I proceeded to ask myself the usual questions.
Did they get together easy too? And even if the guy wants me, do I want him?
And for the first time in the many many times I saw couples and asked myself that question, I realised it is a "Yes".
How very saddening. I msged Eileen to complain that I am sick of seeing couple around, and that I just want Jeremy, why can't he just be with me, and stuff. She managed to cheer me up a little, but I felt very much alone again. So, I went to Bukit Batok Library to return my books, and sat there from 330 till 6 to read happy children's books where there are no sex involved.
I finished Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where thankfully Charlie did not mention about how totally wonderful and loved Mr Willy Wonka made him feel, or how he felt that Grandpa Joe was the only person he would really "make love to" instead of just having sex with or how he felt Grandpa Joe was "the one" for him and how they lived happily ever after.
I still felt slightly nauseous when I reached home and after I took a nap, so I started to call people to relieve some misery.
Scrolling down my phone book, I called Adryan first. We talked for a short while, and I realised he is attached. What the fuck. Not to Xiao feng though, thankfully. He had to get some work done so he hung up fast.
I called Bernard. I asked if I could go to his place to use his samsung cable, since he has a V200, as my com can't seem to detect my phone being there (Oh yeah I bought my beautiful T500, but thats another issue altogether).
He said "Ermm.. No..."
"Why?"
"You know I got gf liao right?"
Why on EARTH would I know he has a gf? Anyway, thats a signal for me to fuck off, so I did.
And then I called Eddy next.
"Are you attached as well?", I asked.
And so he is. How wonderful!!!
Whos next? Both chronologically and alphabetically, it is Jeremy.
And then I realised something. Everyone whom I liked and doesnt like me have been lying about waiting to decide if getting together is the right thing to go. I realised, bitterly, that all of them possibly just enjoyed the fucking attention I gave to them while I idiotically did sweet things for them, etc. If they fucking liked to be friends with the bloody girl before getting together with her, why did they get attached so bloody fast to the other girls? And WHO ARE THE BLOODY LUCKY GIRLS!!!
Why, why is life so fucked up?
Everyone is lying to me. I hate everyone.
I think. I shall stop liking Jeremy. Even if I persevere, nothing is gonna come out of it. I delete his number now, and I will never have the pain of knowing he is fucking someone else.
*****
Oh no my mood has not improved. I think I shall start thinking how I will destroy both Eddy's and Adryan's weddings should they ask me to attend.
Aha. I would put Viagra into the groom's drink, and that way, he would be too embarrassed to prance around with a bulging crotch. What a marvellous idea. I am ingenious.
I will continue blogging. =)
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