Prattling On

It's been the slowest weekend of my whole goddamn life. For once, let's do blogging the traditional way. Ah Neh is now a coyish schoolgirl writing about her mundane fuckin life that she thinks others should be a part of and give a fuck and then leave tags on her tagboard to either praise her England or diss her fuckin myopic periscopic vision.

Myopia, isn't it a bitch? Especially when you don't really look good with contacts, too lazy to put contacts or just apparently ALWAYS have chilli on your fingers when you wanna put it in. I don't know, tried em once, left eye's one dropped off during school assembly. Never went back to it.

Ah, sorry i'm digressing. Ok, back to my assumed persona. Today, I shall be urmz, lil miss shankeri. I did have a kindergarten mate by that name, she was uma shankeri u know, i kena disturbed all the while by the manjens, she was clueless. In fact, she went on to cedar girls, njc, nus i think, and she doesnt even recall her kindergarten days. So sad right. Haha. Well here goes.

Dear Diary,

I've been drinking too much. Actually it's not about the drinking because that is just part and parcel of the scene. I have just been clubbing too much, much as in Paris Hilton revealed too much in her porn video much. So, after the year broke, I decided to stay in on weekdays and just do the "normal" thing which is to visit an establishment that serves alcohol only 1 day a week. I stayed in on new year's eve too. Boy, was it the worst decision of my life.

Now, going from the devil may care nights out behaving like the Chivas slut that I am, I have become the number 1 prude, even frowning on decent Singaporeans just going to have a decent night of clean fun.

Today, while sitting at home on a Saturday night, I even wished that since it was raining all the ppl in the clubs I would have visited would be caught in it on the way there, shivering their way thru the aircon and then getting out at the end of the night only to face the torrential downpour with no taxi in sight.

I know i'm bad Diary, i'm probably in denial. Like when how, my best friend in Primary school said I was psycho and I also denied that. Or when my pri 5 teacher told me i need learn to be more polite [he did write the exact same words in the report book too]. Or when I went hook, line and sinker onto tobacco and still denied it.

It's time for confessions. Revathi, I'm sorry I threw your pencil case into the bin in pri 2. You were a really goddamn irritating bitch. I couldn't help it. Hmmm, now that i've started on confessions, I don't think i should continue. Too many bridges to burn, I got not enuf kerosene. And there are somethings even a diary shouldn't know about. [Especially when your mum likes to read it].

So, Tata.
Till tomorrow.


I had a friend, whose mum loved to read her diary. Her personal way of keeping up with the happenings in her child's life. Obviously she hadn't heard of "conversation". So, to combat her nosy mum, she purposely penned down "My mum's such a bitch today" or "Mother is so goddamn irritating I wish I could just stab her to shut her up".

As usual, Murphy's Law, where the more you want something to happen the greater the possibility the total opposite is going to happen. Moral of the story, you get to visit the psychiatrist very early in life if you put pen to paper on how you are going to murder your parents.

So do take the easy way out and just pull a big all-nighter rebellion at 15, un-protected sex at 17, pregnant at 18 and shotgun R.O.M. at 19. And when you do get thru all of this, call me. I'll be the kid's godfather. No extra charge. I'm already collecting cash for even attending your sham of a wedding.

You didnt know?


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