Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here!!

Crooning on my STEREO: Stop and Stare by ONE REPUBLIC

By now, we have all heard that Malaysians are in the midst of exile from entering Britain sans Visa despite being a Commonwealth compatriot. Now our colonial Motherland is contemplating on making our lives a little EASIER; ie. by making us fill in 20 pages of forms, submitting 10 copies of photographs, queuing up at the very friendly embassy and having to fork out a hefty processing fee in POUNDS for every application. (1 quid = 7 Ringgit Malaysia)

With all my dignity I REFUSE to be treated as a 4th world national.

My heart reaches out to those who have never taken a photo in front of the structural BIG BEN. With the impending Visa rule, they will probably never have the chance to do so. So let's go Paris instead.

You can read my view that was published on a local daily paper here.

But even Paris will not suffice sans Visa. Because if the UK regulation does take effect, there is a likelihood that the entire EU will follow suit. I am just hoping that this is just a shock propaganda to scare the idiots outta the country.

I am not surprised why we are condemned to such immigration torture. There are plenty of IDIOTS (Malaysians, I am embarassed to say) who are overstaying in the UK. In other words, there's a suspected bundle of illegal immigrants from MALAYSIA. There are students who enter Britain with a student visa when they have no intention of coming home, EVER. I know exactly who they are and, oh, how I wish I can report those.

Okay I don't get it. If you bloody hell want WORK in the UK, what the hell are you working as a KITCHEN HAND in Euston? You can be just that in Malaysia. If you can be bloody hell be a waitress, why is it more painful to do just that in Malaysia??

I know, I know. You want a better life.

DOES LIVING IN THE COLD GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HAVING NO RECOURSE TO PUBLIC FUNDS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HIDING FROM IMMIGRATION OFFICIALS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE??

Don't be a dumbass. Even if you marry your local butcher in every hope of getting a PR, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE SOCIALLY REGARDED AS A FOREIGNER. Get that? There is no glamour in that. Your mother in law may adore you but your neighbours will be bitching about you.

Then you will say.. well, my children will have a better life in the UK...

YOU CHILDREN WILL NOT THANK YOU FOR THAT. IN FACT, AT ANY POINT OF THEIR LIVES THEY WILL FORGET THEIR ROOTS AND BLARDY HELL BLAME YOU FOR IT.

Some will say, yeah... but Malaysia has no hope, no chance of advancement, blah blah...

This also applies to legal migrants. You are so naive. If you want to work in Banking in HSBC London, there is a HSBC MALAYSIA too. Ok, you don't earn in pounds. So what? If you prove yourself decent they will surely post you on a deserving branch. London will retrench you any minute due to your immigrant status. Taxes? It's dollar for dollar so just admit its the uniform dog-eat-dog in every industry. If you earn 2000 quid in London is equates to RM2000. Figure that out.

If you want to train as an accountant in a 3rd grade London company, there is an abundance of local firms in KL. Why crowd in a foreign land? It is only logical to think that if you can find jobs in your country, you really do not need to be abroad. You may lust over caucasian boys but please don't be such an anglophile.

A Tip: The best employees start rough back home because they are humble. Trust me, I know.

There is some exception if you are a true and certified specialist in a niche market, ie. the fine arts. Let's face it, there is NO PROFESSIONAL ARTS industry in Malaysia. By all means I encourage you to RUN far away. But if your ambitions only stretches up to film production work then don't fret because there is still a healthy industry in M'sia itself, albeit a racist one. You will live even if you stayed.

MALAYSIA IS NOT A WAR TORN COUNTRY. YES, WE HAVE AN ACTIVE AND SCANDALOUS POLITICAL FRONT. SO WHAT? We need some editorial excitement now and then. I bet you enjoyed reading them too.

WERE YOU STARVING IN MALAYSIA??

Unless you are on Atkins, no one is really deprived of food. Then come home. You really don't need to be there.

25

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by AMAIA MONTERO y EL CANTO DEL LOCO

Although I am itching, itching, itching to.... I have TRIED to refrain from bitching about anyone on this blog till, ermmm, August.

But I can't help it. Because by good old August I would have lost all that bitch inspiration. That would have defeated my fundamental principle of being honest, eh?
---------------------

So here's the story. Sometime ago, at a friend's birthday party, I met a Malaysian Z-list "actress" with a fancy caucasian name and surname. (That was a pseudonym. I later found out that her real name was plain 'Farah,' an equivalent to 'Jane' by western standards)

This scrawny fool tripped over and introduced herself, 'Oh HELLO, I don't know your name but my name is ABC.'

And so I had a rather intelligent conversation with her: (my innermost thoughts are in brackets.)

ABC: Ohhhh, Hello I am an actress.
(she didn't look like one. To be honest)

Me: Oh me too! I WAS an actress. (note the past tense)

ABC: Yeahhh I am can't wait to go to RADA* this October for my MASTERS in Acting!!!
(* RADA is a performing arts institute in Reading, UK- not exactly the best but decent enough for aspiring actresses who can afford the fees.)

Me: Congrats! Good on ya!
(thinks: OMG, so many dumb people are admitted into Masters these days. Unbelievable. Another point to note is that talented actresses don't ACTUALLY do a Masters. They try to get professional jobs..)

ABC: Yeahhh so I guess you studied in UK before eh?? Whats Reading like?? the nightlife??

Me: Reading is very COOL. I know people who get pissed on fancy bars every night there.
(thinks: hahahahahahahaha )

ABC: OMG GOD... REAAAAAAALLLLYYYY???? I am sooooo gonna get my own flat and BRING BOYS HOME!!!

Me: Hell, yeah!!!
(thinks: such a dumbass. *rolls eyes*)

ABC: You know... the thing about my looks is that I only appeal to Americans and Europeans!!! I mean, I can't get good jobs in Malaysia but I know I will succeed abroad!! I once did a program for a Dutch producer*... blah, blah, blah...
(* I later found out that this "Dutch" producer is commissioned by our very own RTM to source cheap local talents for shoestring projects. Not exactly an achievement to brag about.)

Me: Yeah I guess every territorial market has their own set of appeal...
(thinks: but I know you will never fit into any because your nostrils are too big.)

ABC: Sooo you know any agents in London???

Me: Of course I do. What type? Do you have a showreel? And a black n white headshot without make up?
(thinks: any working "actress" should know these bloody kindergarten prerequisites. DOH.)

ABC looks at me blankly.

And I never gave her my agents' contacts.

You can check out ABC's one and only "head shot" HERE. She is the one with the flashy caucasian fake name and a standard overdone metallic make up. Believe me, just like most M'sian talents, she looks nothing like that in flesh.

One piece of advice: You can get away with that sort of extreme makeover in Malaysia, but international talent agencies will blatantly ask you to scrape all that foundation off.

But by then she would be too hideous to score any big jobs. Ooops.

---------------------

Another reason why I am in such a great mood to bitch is that:

ESPANA ARE NOW EUROPEAN CHAMPIONS!!!!!

You would recognize this towel flag on my gate from two World Cups ago. Yes, I waited THAT long.

And we got what we want because we bloody hell FOUGHT for it....

BRING ON 25!!!!!

Causes that Matter

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by LA OREJA DE VAN GOGH

I am feeling a little panicky because I have a little less than 1.5 months left till work hits me on the head and I have to stress about paperwork, packing and literally pissing. The past 4 sabbatical months (I know, I KEEP taking sabbaticals..) has nailed some sense into the real world. My renewed interest in the cosmos taught me simple LOGIC.

What is interesting is that there is only a small handful of educated people who possess such, and the ones who apply logic everyday are those who never made it to college. This is so awesome.

So let me drill some LOGIC into you: Instead of paying extortionately high prices for theatre tickets (price includes a bonus telling-off from Joe Hasham if, on a rare occasion, you forget to switch off your mobile!!) I urge you to support something else arty which is way less patty, snobbish and high ended.



KELAB SENI FILEM is a club for film lovers, it screens mostly non-commercial titles that you will not normally see at your local cinema. A few months back I met the club's chairperson, Tuck Cheong, an amazing film buff who is humble, approachable and truly knowledgeable. The same goes to the club's committee who are a bunch of very nice people. They have no qualms; they are willing to acquaint with you and will never chase you away even if you don't have an inkling who Rosellini is.

(This is contrary to what we may encounter in the local theatre scene: There are some stage actors who claim that their aloofness is the result of their overwhelming passion for ART. I reason that as self flagellation. )

Time for some fresh air? Click on the link above!

Trust me, if you can sit through 2 hours of No Country For Old Men I can pretty much guarantee that you can sit through almost every film regardless of its genre. Niche, Foreign, Arty, you name it. Come to the theatrette at Help College every Monday!

Second drill of logic today is

Yes. I know we are all so caught up with that nonsensical GLOBAL WARMING IS UPON US- GO GREEN nonsense, but I think it is highly imperative that we should pay attention to nature that is close to us rather than to ring up bombastic plans to save the world. Leave those to the wealthy corporates.

Somewhat I am very convinced that those apocalyptic messages on climate change is a commercial farce anyway, so we might as well rescue the neighborhood dog and cat who would be extremely thankful to you.

I URGE YOU. I AM ON MY KNEES TO BEG YOU TO PLEASE PLEASE SHOW YOUR SUPPORT TO THE CHARITIES BELOW.


WEBSITE

and


WEBSITE

Why? Because I can testify that every little contribution goes a LONG way. IKANO has been hosting a fundraising and adoption drive for these animal shelters since two weeks back, and the coming final week (June 20th -22nd). E-mail or call me for more info!

I have been volunteering since last week and will do so this weekend. I will be eternally grateful if you can drop by and buy a car sticker. Even better if you can bring a pup and a kitten home. You will have a true friend for life.

(Perhaps as a consequence you may even lose faith in humanity because you realize that pups do not have the ability to back stab you. I guess that negativity is plausible because we are surrounded by so many dumb people anyway, hohoho)

Hence don't waste your money on the lame canvas bags and Peter's book!

and even if you prefer to..

do they really thank YOU?

Think LOGIC.

The Politics of Clubbing

Crooning on my STEREO: Lullaby by THE CURE

Clubbing was so fun in the past. When I was in London, Malaga, Perugia, or wherever. My definition of having a good time was holding a random drink in the hand, followed by downing deadly cheap shots and passing out thereafter. Dancing, of course, was so fun. Even star jumps was so cool. Vomiting along the streets was not illegal; passing motorists empathized that it was an attractively vulgar thing to do after 5 a.m. You make friends at the kebab shop.

When I returned to good ol' Kuala Lumpur back in late 2005, I was so keen to continue the simple tradition above. To celebrate my homecoming, I had a big fat birthday party at Velvet Underground - a rather costly club that limits their table reservations. My dear parents "lobbied" to get me a membership and an extensive guest list, hence this club became my weekly haunt ever since.

Obviously, I broke my legacy. It was no longer about innocent drinking till the cows came home and running into your neighborhood butcher.


Velvet is an interesting place. My weekly attendance taught me some important lessons about people. I soon created a loyal drinking circle of a few friends and had our little usual table at the "seemingly cool" lounge area. As the weeks went by, our circle expanded.

Let me categorize the type of people you should look out for next Saturday.

1) Long-Lost High School Friends
It is always interesting to reunite with old faces. Even those who never spoke to you back then. But what is more interesting is that despite leaving school in Year 2000, some of these people are still tight buddies with the old bunch they hung out with in the school corridors. Peter is still dating Jane. Jane is still cheating on Peter with John. John is still best friends with Susan. Susan is still hating Kathy. Kathy is still bitching about Susan to Lilly... etc.

2) Plastics
Normally they comprise of several groups of skinny girls who dress very well, holding on to designer clutches. (btw: it is a fashion faux pas to use expensive bags at clubs - cigarette burns are not reversible.) They tend to float around the pre-lounge area in packs of 3 or 4, and they drift from table to table making and greeting friends. They get free alcohol in return. They never say anything intelligent.

3) Hangers-On
They are usually acquaintances whom you don't really know, but yet you see them in your vicinity almost every week. You also see them helping themselves to your alco bottle. Let's just say when the bill for the Chivas comes, they disappear to the dance floor.

4) Networkers
Can be in the guise of Plastics and Hangers-on, except that they make an extreme effort to get to know you. Often starts with a question, 'What do you work as?' and if you impress them they take your number down at the end of the night. They are usually guys who drink a lot, shout into your ear and occasionally flashes a fancy mobile phone.

5) The "IDOL"
Kids with extremely wealthy and famous parents. Despite their real penniless state (their dad funds their clothes and cars) they have masses of friends and networkers worshipping the ground they walk on. However, the "Idol" is also an elusive character who perceives himself as a level above all, hence he isn't exactly the most friendly person you will come across. He will stick together with the other daddy's children of the same status to assert an aura of exclusivity. He normally leaves the club before 2 a.m. He sometimes wears a suit that can be easily confused with the floor manager's.

6) The Social Butterfly
A person with 1000 Facebook contacts, sees you at a club, pecks you left and right and asks HOW ARE YOU? Before you could answer, he/she has moved on to repeat the same sequence to your friend standing next to you. He/she seems to know EVERYBODY but you would see him/her walking to the car park alone at 3a.m.

7) The Sugar Daddy
Usually has a prime table with couches facing the dance floor. He is the odd man in his 50s surrounded by a flank of children in their 20s. Opens a Moet. Has sweaty arm pits.

8) The Lookers
They usually gather around a table next to the DJ Console that is commonly mistaken (or deluded) as a VIP section. These are a bunch of Eurasian or Caucasian men and women who are disgustingly tall and beautiful. They hardly drink. And just for your info, they are out-of-work catwalk models stranded in KL.

Interesting, huh? Let me know if you can spot them this weekend. In case you are wondering if I have any qualms writing this, well, it is okay to make enemies now since it will be Hasta La Vista!!!!!

Global Warming and the Farce

Crooning on my STEREO: Fifth of Bethoven by NASSAU

I fell asleep while watching AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH because it was boring, highly self-indulgent and rather kid-dish. It's like watching Al Gore's world-saving tactics for dummies; if there's such a movie ever made, but thats how I perceived the entire propaganda of self pity: I didn't win your votes before hence I want to make you feel REALLY BAD about it, because I am a saint and you didn't know this back then....



That whole farce worked on the masses. I am amazed at how many people have come up to me and said that it was the SCARIEST movie ever made. I thought Candyman was scarier. In fact, eurosleaze shows like MalaBimba is hilarious yet scary because the entire twisted plot was supposedly ochestrated by The Devil. (haha)

So, Al Gore scared you into believing that the world shall end quicker, ie. if you continue to use plastic bags, that sin is going contribute to global warming in some puny way.

There is somebody who capitalized on this herd paranoia. Anya Hindmarch invented those rough canvas bags that shouted "I am not a plastic bag." They are cheap. But limited in quantity. Consequently, thousands of plastics (my definition of dumb girls who queued hours to get themselves one) fought for them, so much so that many fans also bought fake ones at cut throat prices just to fit in.

Mind you, saving the world should not be an exclusive deed. And only goodness knows if these canvas bags were manufactured via fair trade. I don't know how much of the world you can save by replacing 1000 plastic bags with 500 "limited edition" canvas bags.

Ok I was slightly wrong. There was no paranoia. It is merely a FASHION TREND. And trends go out of date. They pass on.

Then I have some well-connected young pals who recently co-edited books on bio-degeneration and going green. Of course they didn't write them entirely. But there were posh autograph sessions and press conferences, and it made me equate such occurrences to nothing but, FAME. As a pure juxtaposition, I don't recall Mother Theresa autographing her books.

At that time, there was also a sudden influx of friends within the same circle who raved, 'hey, i am going green because my friend wrote a book on the greenhouse effect.' And I asked 'what do you know about the green house effect?' And she answered, 'Well, our world is in trouble and we are heating up. Peter wrote that we can make a difference by converting waste into energy'.

And I asked, 'Ok. Do you know that Peter the "author" does not car pool and drives around in a Porsche?'

That didn't bother her nor the expanding circle of Peter's friends. In fact, co-editing those books made Peter a demi-god. He is even getting free alcohol in every club he goes.

What I am trying to say is, there are more ethical ways of expounding doomsday. An Inconvenient Truth is an odd way of threatening moviegoers to invest in a method to save the world by presenting the earth's exaggerated vulnerabilities. Hence many corporations turn such mass induced fears into a business by reinstating their "green" reputation. If you are not naive about the global economy, every "green" or "blue" business plan boils down to money and politics. Hence Peter is selling books to launch his career in his family's business empire.

On a macro scale if you didn't play truant on your science and geography classes, there is also an even greater truth that there is really nothing we can do about this decaying earth.We can only slow it down, but not significantly. Let's face it, we are eventually going to end up like the dinosaurs because we claim to know so much of our earth but nothing about the universe.

Now that I am researching on astro-physics, I can tell you a simple theory. Check out our neighbor VENUS below.

Ancient astronomers assumed that there could be life on Venus because of its component similarities to that of Earth. However, every spacecraft that has tried to enter its atmosphere literally blows up due to huge gravitational changes. Later research shows that it is indeed a big greenhouse. It's quite hot. What caused it? Was there some sort of evolution? We can only speculate.

Then we have our MARTIAN neighbor.

Tonight NASA's little robot Phoenix will enter Mars' atmosphere in search of water and other evidence of bacterial life form, thats if it lands safely. It is a giant red planet, looks a little ugly but very reminiscent of our red dessert. It's quite dead. There could have been life in the past but if there was, what caused their demise? Decomposing plastic bags? Again we don't really know.

Ditto to all of our 10000s of unanswered questions pertaining to the other planets in our solar system. What killed the other planetary life forms, if we were not alone in this vast universe? And on our own grounds, what killed off the dinosaurs? Surely they didn't have factories back then.

Because we do not know. Hence, why are we so consumed by Al Gore's Oscar, canvas bags, Peter's book, switching off all lights in the house for a day because a Facebook group tells you to? So much so that we don't have a global clarity of understanding why we do such things. We do such because the mass media tells us to, but we will soon get bored and forget to switch off the plug.

If only we realize how beautiful our Earth as compared to the other fuzzy planets of outer space, we would be genuinely inspired to do things in respect of Mother Nature. It is simply because Man can never stop a sudden asteroid nor cyclone from devouring us one day. It is a fact that too much irreversible damage has been done to Earth. This is general science:

Every living thing has its life span.


And we do not need consumerism to tell us that. In all honesty, many corporate "green" campaigners impart a sense of deluded hope by presenting a world crisis as a bankable trend. Every hype has its anti climax.

So guys, collectively switching off all the lights in your house for one day just because MTV tells you to do so, isn't really going to make a big difference. You are behaving like an ignorant cult member.

Down Under

Crooning on my STEREO: Satisfaction by BENNY BENASSI ft. THE BIZ

Oh man, the manic packing mode is switched on and tonight I am off to the great land of kangaroos and platypuses...

AUSTRALIA!!



I haven't been there in the last 5 years. Are the clubs BETTER now??



well done, UGG.


I will be right back to do more of that navel gazing. And welcome back, Raja Petra!!!

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..

WHAT THE HECK WERE THEY SAYING ??!?!?!

I almost fell off the chair

PATATA!!!!!

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.

VIVA VEGAS!!!

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

Trans-atlantic Fishes

Crooning on my STEREO: Angelica by LE VIBRAZIONE

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.

HOW DID IT FEEL? PINS N' NEEDLES WITH A SLIMY TWIST
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:
LICK MY FILTHY FEETTTT!!! EXFOLIATEEEEEEE MEEEEE!!!!!! SUCK MY HEEEEL!!!! I AM GONNA HAVE GORGEOUS FEET AFTER YOU SUCKERSSSSS !!!!! EXFOLIATEEEEE!!!!

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:
LAS VEGAS ONCE AGAIN, BABY!!!!!


I should just live there.