Sunday, April 27, 2008

ANTM & The AttacK Of The ExeS.

Crooning on my STEREO:
Flaunt It by TV Rock Feat. Seany B.

Facebook is a pretty dangerous platform; simply because within the click of button you are able to enable your past to seemingly embrace, or, enrapture you. Well, its pretty cool for some people. I thought it was quite exciting to allow some terrible men of my past to drool over how smoking hot I have become and slap themselves with regret.

But of course, there is also such a thing called backfire.

Damn that word. Some of the recent additions to my friends list are men I had been involved with after the turn of the millenium. Before this I was the eeky angel who never had a guy. (I can't disclose the number because itd just make you cry.) So you can imagine.

Well obviously it didn't work out with any of them in the past. I was always the optimistic one, happy-go-lucky, naive and ready to fall in LOVE. I had no idea the definition of a fuck buddy. A beautiful friend? What the hell was a casual date? I thought if you kissed someone when you were sober, he had to be in love with you.

Then I endured the ugly truth. There were men who came, conquered and left. And I was left crying and bleeding in the bathroom, clinging on to my mobile hoping that somebody would call to say he loved me.

Rather predictably, those knight-in-armour calls never came. There was the occasional SMS that said, "hey would you like to grab 'lunch'"? You'd be proud to know that I never replied to those.

Back to the present. What I can derive from a few photos is that now they all have steady girlfriends. (incredibly hot girls, dammit) I am already deriving morning sickness from happy couple photos in the sun, wall posts addressing each other as 'baby', 'honey,' 'cupcakes' and most the most sickening of all, 'I love you.'

I am bitter because I never had those. And I can't help but to be affected by them. In the bout of dissecting what went wrong, I would have blamed it primarily on my looks. If I was more beautiful, many things would have worked out. If I looked fit, they wouldnt have left because they would have been proud to be seen with me. And stayed.

It is a shallow conclusion, but that is also the easiest conception in compliance with a shallow world. I hate to feel sorry for myself but yet I am pretty much incapable of blaming others for their happiness.

Best thing is to move on. Or delete the dreadful bunch from Facebook. Today I am in love with an amazing man whom I would love to spend the rest of my life with. Unlike the terrible junk I wasted my tears on, my sayang is so perfect.

However, I cannot help but to feel that he is alright with losing me the very next day. Just like the rest, he will move on with a more beautiful girl. He will be ok. But as for me I will cry myself to death, if I am even slightly lucky.

I know, its all about feeling sorry. But then again you must experience the scary depths of rejection to empathise with this.

Ok, I will stop the depressing crap for now. For those who follow ANTM's latest cycle on YouTube, ohhh myyy goodnesss this is so so so hilarious:

Basically these American contestants were based in Rome, and had to shoot a Covergirl TV Commercial in ITALIAN. Why I find it so horribly amusing is pretty much self explanatory..


I almost fell off the chair

Saturday, April 19, 2008


Crooning on my STEREO: Lollipop by MIKA

Due to security concerns, the original post has been modified into a more self-indulgent version as per below.

In case you even BOTHER, I just got back from the U.S.A and brought a luggage full of nice things home with me. I am so in love. In case you even BOTHER, this is one of my obssessive purchases from the greatest blessing that is Victoria's Secret:

I am talking about the cheeky dress, not the chick. DOH. Again, in case you even BOTHER, I didn't buy the fluffy fan to complete the look. It is very likely that only my sayang will see me drunk & doning this frock with a beer in one hand.... if the size still fits by then.

It was tremendously good to be in Sin City: living in the best suites, best mansions with Bon Jovi as a gentle neighbour and sublime shopping... but my gambling luck is a little lopsided. Even my camera luck was lame, you would've read that I've met so and so celebs but I NEVER had my camera with me. Whoever who jinxed me in this aspect should poop themselves to oblivion.

My ultimate favourite is The Mansion @ MGM Grand, where the most gorgeous, posh & elite sunbathers congregated by the VIP pool every morning. Although I was the heaviest and worst looking of the lot, I still managed to strike up meaningful conversations with them and learnt that I was lucky enough to be there with my family, and not with an old and dying gigolo to gain this luxury.

Then there was San Francisco, where the shopping beats the world and I am missing a lovely aunt. Last but not least there was Hollywood; the mecca for all struggling and starving actors. A few people from my Method class thrived there, and some went home. Lazy arses like me perpectually holiday there.

Again, the green card seems like a pretty good idea in my quest for the Holy Grail.

Monday, April 07, 2008


Crooning on my STEREO: Sex Bomb by TOM JONES

A quick one to piss about how strange it is to blog on a massive plasma telly in an enormous suite alone with a few rose bubblies overlooking the whole of Vegas courtesy of a massive panorama window facing Mr Trump's unopened hotel. I just saw the Beckhams (including the kids) with Elton snd witnessed Tom Jones' newly acquired tan. Everything is so odd and you cannot imagine how much stuff I am buying. I am so totally shallow and I think I just walked past Pamela Anderson? She had those big burly guaards around her. Then there's the PCD casino and lounge. OMG.

Cameras are prohibited. But it's what I see that truly matters!!

This is why I have always loved coming back to Vegas. This place is so sick.

OHhhh.. Thank Heaven's for VICTORIAS SECRET!!! Muax muax muaxx

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Trans-atlantic Fishes

Crooning on my STEREO:

Due to popular demand, I've decided to post up a picture of a hundred fishes mauling my feet (and a glimpse of my fat thighs) at the much hyped KENKO FISH SPA.

It's totally SICK. The biggest challenge is at the very beginning when you sink your feet into the murky water. Once your feet touches the water surface: schools and schools and schools of grey fishes riot towards you (theory: the more filthy you are, the more you attract). The point of this exercise is that these multitudes of guppies will manicly FEED on your feet's dead skin. (although they seem to have an insatiable fetish for your heels). Oh... I can't describe the rest. It's just, just, just EEWWWWWWW

It's the most odd-ass 30 minutes of spa treatment I've ever had.

In every effort to get through the half hour ordeal without laughing like a deranged hyena, I shouted the following:

Try it. It brought out the forgotten chav in me.
It is also pretty obvious that fishes that feed on filth are, obviously, filthy creatures.

Tip: It's best not to look down on who's nibbling at your feet. Especially when you see a huge-mama fish (and her 50 juniors) approaching your big toe.

Anyway, I am flying out tommorrow morning. It's 3rd time back to LA, San Francisco and my hedonistic favourite:

I should just live there.