Monday, July 13, 2009
"They're so cute together."
"And you're jealous. I know"
"You missed a spot la."
"I'll stab you, bitch-in-denial"
"We'll worship the ground they walk in, but before that, we'll wax the floor so they'd fall."
Penang yesterday was just so damn tiring. Before I get to any of that nonsense, I'll post a shiteously long
rant [I'm starting to hate this word] anti-rave on how much I hate the fact that I'm getting Confirmed next fudgecaking year. The worst part, I have to choose a guardian this year, before September because apparently, they're also going to go on a journey a.k.a their paychecks are gonna be cut and they refuse to have anyone back down. To hell.
It's bad enough they're making us get Confirmed ONLY in Form5 whereas all the other gazillion churches in Malaysia are doing it at Form4. And why? Because....we're not matured enough. MATURED ENOUGH? So what? If I'm 17, I'm automatically matured enough to get Confirmed as opposed to when I'm 16? Bloody hell, that's like telling someone she can only drink the wine from Communion when she's legal! What about those people who're fussing over Confirmation names and dresses compared to those who actually want to get Confirmed for what it is? You don't call that immature? Acceptable, maybe?
Pssssh. Double standards.
And CONVERSE WAS HAVING A FUDGECAKING STOCK CLEARANCE SALE YOU FUDGECAKING THING WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!
I swear to God, my last words on my deathbed are either gonna be "Another death? Shocker.", "Ah fudgecake.", "Damn", or "Bloody hell!"
And The Mum, God knows what's her deal these days but she's so bloody paranoid. As in she's beefing up the security measures around me to Venus-high maximum level.. Basically, that means no more coming back home after school, no leaving me alone in the house, no cycling like the crazy bitch I am, and no more long, head-clearing walks around the housing area.
Because she's so afraid that I might get kidnapped, killed, robbed, raped, my organs donated unwillingly to some chick in Florida, and all that shiet. The most hypocritical part of it is the fact she's started doing it after The Brother passed away. I mean geez, does that mean she has just started realizing that she has a youngest daughter to look after? For Chrissake, I've been alone after school since Form 2, what freaking difference does it make? She THINKS I'M GOING TO FUDGECAKING DIE.
The Dad's stand on this is pretty interesting though. Murphy's Law, that's his stand. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
Which basically means if I'm destined to get kidnapped, killed, robbed, raped, my organs donated unwillingly to some chick in Florida, it can and probably will happen.
I think this pretty much sums up how much of my parents unconditonal love has gone down to me. About 25% of it.
I need Star Wars.
Ezzrriiieeeeee worded out at 10:36 PM
0 page[s] turned..Fudgecake?!