Brilliant Cook

Not that cook, cook. No, Dane Cook is only able to do sweep-off. David Cook's Always Be My Baby makes me shed some tears, literally. The original version has been a little cheerful (with saddening lyric), still it is good, but Cook outperforms it awesomely. My heart can just die right now.

Sometimes I have admiration for those Caucasians' quick sparkles in love. Just how quick one can lock lips on each other, passionate hugs, hit off, and eventually knowing each other in bed. Sounds so misfit in our culture, I know, but that's how they work things out. Romantic scenes usually end in the most heartbreaking way when somebody just comes up with a soft phrase, saying "That's it. We're done." Short. Precise. Definitely heartbreaking.

Let see, I have been playing this song more than 48 hours already. It now keeps spinning in my head. Watched "He's just not that into you" and we definitely fell for the last scene of how Ben Affleck committed into marriage and proposed to Jennifer Aniston. I have this neighbour/friend who used to tell us that he might end up like those mid-40s horny uncles who dance their life away with alcohol and ladies in night club - that's simply hilarious okay. Perhaps we are still young and appreciate nothing but freedom, have no siginificant belief in the whole concept of marriage. You just gotta love us for loving our lives so much that we're so reluctant to forgo our little self-pride for someone else. Why should our freedom be deprived by young commitments? Geez, I want all my every right of being stupid, reckless, and unplanned when I still get a chance to make a fool out of myself.

Geez, why am I acting like a furious youngster and talking like a 6-year-old? It's supposed to talk about Cook. I've just got drifted away. Will write a proper post once I return from somewhere awesome. Fuck yeah, I'm on vacation peeps!!!

Thank you and come again, prick

A local lady*, who faked an Indian accent, called from an unknown number and yelled at me, saying that I'm an Indian dumb slut, named Deborah, who fucked his husband called Jai Ho.

And the background was filled with mischievous laughter. What a night. Might be those idiotic fuckers who lost in truth-or-dare game, got drunk and pulled a freaking lame prank on me. She also mentioned about Kings Cross, so I assume it could be related to the recent racial discrimination issues in Sydney and Melbourne. It could be not. But since she kept calling back, so back off bitch, stop telling me how much you loved your husband, who happened to call Jai Ho, because Deborah and Jai Ho will keep shagging till the days doom. Oh, and victory is with me. Get a better name next time.





*Why presumably local? She just accidentally uttered in local English accent, saying "She won't say anything" when I remained silent over the phone. Gotcha prick!

Touche

Why can't we run with iPod?
We can't run with iPod because iPods are for people who can't be alone with their own thoughts.

- Bride Wars

In the Midst of Interpreting Results

I revamped my blog. Because that cup of coffee beans lulled me into another sinful abyss. Coffee has somewhat blended in part of my life, and last night it even invaded into my slumberland. Yes, literally came lives into my dream.

The dream scenario was about three of us were moving out from our current place a day prior to the lease ended. So Debbie was working at night. She practically urged us to pack all our luggage and left the house before her. So we left house and dragged our luggage and literally walked to our new temporary place in Southbank. I could see the exact route in dream. And we frigging walked there. Upon reaching Southbank, all of the sudden I recalled of the forgotten packs of coffee still left in the kitchen cabinet.

"Oh my god! Ah-Dai, I forgot to tell Debbie that I still have my coffee in that cabinet!"

I didn't have any phone with me and so did Ah Dai. Interestingly, there came our ex-neighbours who so happened to stay in Southbank as well. TT spotted us. He ajak us for bak kut teh dinner. We very puzzled and asked, "Eh, Brisbane got bak kut teh one meh?"

"There, at the corner of Chinatown there." We then walked together to Chinatown. Literally walking instead of taking bus or train. So insane and I could feel myself was so knackered in sleeping state. And the most amazing part of all was, we saw Debbie sitting in the Chinese restaurant with her luggage. Like Lam Ah Chan like that. I couldn't wait but dash to the front of Debbie and told her about my coffee. "Huh? What coffee you talking about?" in her usual absent-minded tone. We ate bak kut teh as dinner, in Brisbane. Then we went back to our place and rested.

In the midst of sleeping, I woke up, couldn't care more about my safety and walked back to our previous flat unit and rescued my lonely coffee in that cabinet. Yes, without keys and stuffs, I thought I climbed from the balcony and got in the house, with no electricity and torch light, I walked to the kitchen, opened the upper cabinet, and *drum rolls*

NOTHING LEFT IN THE CABINET!!!!! Where goes my coffee la!!!!!!!!!

And that's the end of the story.


I think I'm destined to change everything into coffee mode today. So does my blog. Because my dream told me so.

Things I've Done when the Tissue Stuck in My Nostrils

1. I'm typing an assignment - a proper market research report that has been depriving my joie de vivre. Further explanation: I woke up at 8am every morning, by alarm or jump off in shocking state, stayed in Chamberlain's lab until the latest was 8pm I went home and died in bed till next morning and the grind repeats. I feel like living a research analyst's life

2. Typing while playing Bejeweled Blitz - because I lose my voice, I barely talk for more than 24 hours already (minus the previous night I spent in bed after dinner). Feeling invisible in the house as I can't respond immediately to what my housemates say. So I'm bored. Ended up in Bejeweled Blitz, not even Word Challenge - enough torment of my brain.

3. Drinking and flushing - I fell sick mainly because of the heat though it's now autumn. My housemate urged me to drink plenty of water, which I did so much that I kept running in and out of toilet. How I wish my life is building on the toilet bowl... only for this moment ok.

4. Checking and refreshing inbox - I like writing heaps of emails for people and ironically the other side of me doesn't seem to work well with replying the received contents. Some people expect replies but the meaning of replying doesn't really occur to me. I practically foresee my negative relationship with clients if insisting on venturing in event organisation, though I really love all the challenges from organising an event.

5. Regaining my voice - Occasionally I speak to myself. So I know the regaining process. And now I sing along with the media player. Currently playing - All by Myself. Yeah right, what are the odds.

6. Learning how to breathe - you don't need a manual instruction to tell you how to breathe anyway. Nose block la what you expect.

7. CTRL+C and CTRL+V - You know I'm currently looking for good journals to aid my interpretation in Discussion section. That's what you read from a proper published journal, and am now having a chance to produce something you might need to cue in as literature review. Who cares anyway?

8. Whatever is a powerful word in English after FREE and SALES. It is presumably used by losers who couldn't refute and is going to lose in a debate/argument. It's like a triumph card to them, by uttering "Whatever." What are you gonna reply? Loser, right.

9. Tacky emotions. I hate being tacky to cue in any emoticon now for I'm being emotionless at the moment, or at least I don't feel like smiling, sticking tongue out, whatever. (Yes, loser.)

10. I'm still typing an assignment - progressing. I know I'm so gonna finish it by tonight. All in all, I walk my talk.