Someone recently, in all seriousness, asked me that big question. Suddenly, faced with all the options in the world, I realised I am pretty confused. I went home that day with a question mark hovering above my head, and decided to push the question (mark) to the back of my mind and watch some TV. Tadah! America's Next Top Model and the Amazing Race, 6. After watching both shows, I narrowed my choices down to two: I was watching ANTM absentmindedly, then I realised the designation beneath one of the catwalk trainer's (a black MALE with false eyelashes, electric eyeshadow and a bald hair [wait bald hair is oxymoronic - but never mind]) name, was DIVA . I've never seen anyone with their designation as "diva"! I mean, regional executive chief senior intern yes, but DIVA? I decided I like that job title!!! I shall try to be a diva!!! If a random gay male can be a diva, then surely Xiaxue can too? Wouldn't it be fun to boss everyone
Showing posts from November, 2004
As sick as a battery hen. I heard that battery chickens are leading a darn sad life because farmers, with the play of lights no doubt, cheat the stupid chickens into thinking that 24 hours is actually 72 hours and therefore making them lay triple the normal amount of eggs in a "day" - i.e. 3. The chickens, no doubt wondering why the hell they are still living when they are triple the normal grandmama chicken's age (that is if chicken can actually count), force themselves to die an early death, out of spite. Anyway, my point is that I am as sick as a battery chicken. I have fever, flu, sore throat, cough and unemployment all rolled into one. And no one is even gaining eggs from my illness! Bah! I wonder why the farmers don't make a typical day into six days instead so that the eggs can increase six-fold. Weird. Hell, make it increase 600 times so that the chickens become motor-egg lying machines!! Maybe they will lay eggs so rapidly that we can use them as
Please wait for photos to load!! Disgusting, to say the least. Fat, gross and obscene. And yes, that's the before ... I was unwilling to use my own hideous photos, but well ... I guess I shall come clean. I AM NOT PRETTYYYYYYYY! But I will be. Online as least. Because I am blessed - with talents . . . . . My legs are no longer fat! =) And that perfect tan ... Wow! Yikes. Background's ugly. Let's take it away, shall we? Here's a close up of the face: Want a bigger shot? Hell, I even made it wallpaper-sized. Click to enlarge! Who needs models? Anyone can be gorgeous. Including you! I do photoshop freelance and I charge economical prices. And no, your pic wouldn't be up my blog the next day. I promise! Email me! =) p/s: More blogging tomorrow night, about my cousin's ROM, and *maybe* a continuation of the incredimorons blog. Comments comments!!!
Turn up your speakers can click on my annoying Bah! photo: Anyway, guess what I also discovered! Those following our favourite local satire site will possibly already know they discovered a minister dementor creature during Halloween, which looks suspiciously like our ... minister mentor. They also penned an EXCELLENT (it's so good I almost danced in delight reading it) erm, parody on our very own local fairy tale story . Please read it here! Well, remarkably the person blowing the pipe has a very familiar face on it. Hmmm. Go read! *twiddles thumbs* Ok, welcome back! (Or just welcome, if you have read the story before) Guess what I found? The Minister Mentor is not one to take it all lying down -he fights back! Listen to him lament here (not, erm, done by me. Really.): On a side note: How does it feel like to be a model? How does it feel like to live a promiscuous, high-flying glittery social life where DA CAMERA (read: your camera - n
FUCKANATHAN! The world is filled with stupid people. And evil people! Just to prove my point, Bush is elected AGAIN . So anyway, back to stupid people somewhere nearer to home: Singapore. Today, I woke up at a freaking 0900 hours to get to Bukit Batok Driving Centre to sit for my basic theory test. I decided to take a cab there. And (CLICHE ALERT!) without further ado, I walked out of my rather secluded neighbourhood to go to a less obscure road to get a cab. Unfortunately for me, there were already two guys standing at the edge of the bus stop - where I usually wait. Two guys who look like Indonesians or something - around late twenties. Ah fuck it. Let's just call them the Indonesian guys, whether they are Burmese or Bangalas. They were hovering near the bus stop, and if one had a wager on whether they were waiting for the bus in a kiasu manner or waiting for a cab in a relaxed manner (standing pretty far back from the road), one would possible put the dough on
(This entry is for the ladies. Heterosexual males - you are warned. Boring, and slightly gross entry.) MUAHAHAHHAAHHA!!! Please imagine, if you were Harry Potter and I were Lord Voldemort (Shewhoshallnotbenamed! LOL!), you will feel a searing pain on your scar right this moment, while you sense that I, Lord Voldemort, am skipping around in extremely merry jubilation! EXPECTO PATRONUM!!! Crucio crucio crucio!! Yay! This is what happened. Those who know me will possibly nod their heads in avid agreement when you ask them about my very fat tummy. Protruding proudly like an old man's beer belly, it threatens, at its worst of times, to be the most 'outstanding' thing my body has while in lateral view - beating 'breasts' and 'nose' hands down (the "hands" part not to be taken literally). The only thing that it can defeat is ... my toes. Maybe if I bang my forehead against the fishtank ala luohan my forehead can win my tummy too. HEY! Maybe I sho
I'm going out in a short while so here's a photolog first! I had a bloody good hair day but only seafood saw it! It's like this. Momo managed to earn a commission of a whooping $4,500 for a house she sold, so she treated Smelly (my bro - he is not really smelly btw) and I to a sumptuous dinner at No Signboard restaurant! That was the lobster we ate. We had crab too. It was grumpy. We tortured the seafood??! ******************* Went out with Eileen to the already-decorated-for-Christmas orchard. I think this angel looks very funny with a plastic bag! We shopped at the new Forver 21, and Eileen bought a pretty suit for $68. And my turn! (Warning: Camera-whore coming up.) Bandanna! $9! Earrings! $7 Ming xing big big sunglasses! $11! Wraparound skirt! $33! Whoop! See, so nice ... Those are dangling crystals outside Tangs. My friend (not Eileen) jumped up and stole one crystal
Thanks to blogder Vivienne, I got notified that Miss Aina's blog is back - with some weak excuses. For new readers, this saga happened some time back. What happened THEN was that I got notified of the existance of her blog and had a look at it. I was horrifed to find entire blog entries of mine LIFTED and put into her blog as her thoughts, and her writings. Plagiarism to its most shameless. Not only were entries scarily similar to mine, I also found she took effort to mimic little things I say, copy my entire sidebar's contents (complete to the SELF-SPOOF and the entire contents of the spoof), and even had her FAQs in shocking similarity. Her little tralala delivery was perfect to the extent that her blog's background was even the same as mine. Funny thing was how her FAQs claimed her HATES pink though. After I wrote about her evil doings on my blog, my blogders, sensing injustice, promptly went over to her ... joke of a site - to spam her tagboard and well ...
As you can see, tomorrow (btw why is the short form for tomorrow often spelt at tml? Tomolo? Even in acornyms we use Singlish?) is the date for my much dreaded Mensa IQ test. I want to stab myself in the eye for bringing this pain to myself. AND WHILE AT THAT, SPENT a bloody $48. If I had used a little more logic (very ironic for the topic at hand), I should have spent that $48 to buy 144 packets of tissue from the next lucky blind old man who approaches me while I dine at a hawker centre. Heck, I might even be able to get around 180 packets if he cuts me a rare deal. You may be frowning and thinking, But Xiaxue, wouldn't a Mensa cert do you great in life? Think of the amount of stupid people you can slap with the cert, till Mensa kicks you out for rough behaviour! YOU THINK YOU KNOW, BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, BEATS GOOD KARMA! (I'm in a foul mood) Buying tissue from blind old men gives me good karma, and I need good karma - to get a boyf
Mom: "Hey. The shiitake mushrooms you bought ah, faster go eat, or they will spoil." ME, watching news: "How they spoil? Mushrooms will spoil one meh??" Mom: "OF COURSE WILL LAH! The last time you bought also spoilt. GROW MOULDY ah wait." Me: "Rubbish. Mushroom is a fungus, so why would fungus grow on it?" *stony silence from Auntie Cheng* Me: "Huh mommy? Tell me leh, how come fungus grow on fungus?" Mom: I don't know. If you really want to find out ah, I suggest you go ask ... *pause while I thought that I don't know any environmentalist I can possibly ask this question to* Mom: "I suggest you go and ask the mushroom." Me: "..." ************************ Later on: -The news shows how Beijing people have a new interesting hobby of riding horses- Mom, from behind the sink washing dishes but stealing looks at the TV: "You know hor, gi
RUDDY GARANG GUNI MAN COMES THUNDERING AROUND EVERY SUNDAY AT TEN AM BLASTING THAT BLARING FOGHORN OF HIS KANNINA DOESN'T HE REALISE THAT PEOPLE NEED A SLEEP-IN ON A BLOODY SUNDAY GOD MEANT FOR IT TO BE THE OFFICIAL REST DAY AFTER A HECTIC WORK WEEK AND THE bloody Garang Guni man doesn't give a shit and blasts his horn ANYWAY totally inconsiderate and woke me up in a start to his unpleasant voice and my blankie is oh-so-comfy but I cannot go back to sleep and it is all the Guni's fault for being a horrible self-centred person I hope he gets very little papers today and realise that the majority of his clientele ARE STILL STRUGGLING IN BED WISHING HE WOULD GO AWAY OR BLOGGING EVIL BAD BLOGS ABOUT HIM I HOPE EVERYBODY DIES AND NEVER MAY I HAVE TO WAKE UP SO BLOODY EARLY AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -Open a School of Garang Guni Manners , anyone?- (Yes smartass, the fact that I am unemployed and "hectic work week" is meant to be ironic so stop acting like
He emailed me this: I didn't reply. Looking at the English level, I would say, a wise decision. And why should I teach him about websites anyway? Who is he to me? *frowns* He tried again the next day: I ignored him again. He doesn't get the hint: I ignored him again. He persisted, once again: I am sick of seeing the same email almost everyday, and I feel it is time to stop, ay? Perhaps a little harsh ... Then came his reply: If you ask me? Classic. Men turn into ugly things when they know they cannot get you.