Filed under: school
My brain cells are so worn out just by reading one chapter of biology. No wonder those Science people look so bleargh(except for a minority, like Outi for example *waves*), but of course that’s just a hypothesis that is still awaiting funding for it to be researched properly. Must be tough to have your life sucked out of you and I’m sure there is a scientific name for that process. There is a name for every bloody process, right now I am stuck at chemiosmosis. What is chemisosmosis, is it a skimpy nightgown? No wait, that’s a chemise and by the way Victoria Don’t Tell Nobody carries a nice range. But I’m not gonna lie, I love going to the bio labs!
Gangsta rap cracks me up. How can it not crack anyone up, with lyrics like
“Yall niggaz is pussy, poonani, (Vagina)”
That’s taken from New York by Ja Rule, which is somehow in my laptop. I know that gansta rap has been described as being sexist because of the way women are potrayed and all but I’m not a bra-burning feminist so I have no beef, as they say it, with the lyrical content of gangsta rap. It’s still music and a form of entertainment. Don’t listen to it if you don’t like it. I think sometimes we are being overly sensitive about things – racist, sexist, ageist and all other -ists. Or maybe I’m just increasingly apathetic. Do I smell an existential crisis coming up? I hope not, I am quite happy to be in my desensitized cocoon. I do not want to end up becoming one of those people who spend a lot of time alone in nature reserves to be emo and contemplate mortality. I have other things to do, like thinking about cures to the ailments that I am currently afflicted with.
- toothache – it’s no fun chewing using one side only. Now the right side of my face is going to be more muscular. Great.
- neckache – I am now Derek Zoolander, I can’t turn left.This is the worst of the lot because I feel like I am wearing a neck brace.
- pocketache – no sign of the Sacred Brown Envelope yet. It has become an obsession, checking the mailbox for it.
- sore throat – slight, but still a discomfort.
- sore eye – now I’m like a bloody pirate, typing with one eye open only.
Damn it.
Filed under: random
I thought I heard a missile explode just now, becaust there was a whizzing sound followed by a bang. I looked out of the window and all was well, so maybe it was just some kids playing with homemade rocket.
I must remember to ask Boarie when’s the next karaoke session. This time around, we will be more considerate to the non-Malay songs minority (namely Apol) and pick more English songs instead. Bring on the boybands, girlbands, Whitney and Mariah! If there is one thing that I want, it’s the ability to sing well. I want to mesmerize people with my superb voice control and multi octave range. I will either join Singapore Idol, win and then ink a deal with Cheers, since Taufik already took 7-11, but if Hady takes Cheers then I will be the face of Sheng Siong. Or I would be discovered while singing the national anthem.
Unfortunately, people are usually blown away by my croaking. I still attempt to hit the high notes and hoping for a miracle but usually my voice terpelecok, balls. That’s tripping for you non-Malays (all 3 of you) and it is still embarassing, despite it happening 100 times already.
“Got a fist of pure emotion…”
Only a true child of the 90s will know what comes after that line, without having to Google it.
