some sort of memory of memory loss

oh oh oh how terribly horridly unfair.

i had a LOT of things to blog on and have been wanting to do so for ages but haven't been able to do so cuz my mither de-moused my computer.

so now that it's back [after i caught her playing *gasp* inklink with a the computer mouseD] i've forgotten all that i wanted to say.

*sniffs*

ah wait - here's a vague recollection of one: another successful rejection of a dyed-blonde, pierced lip, beng of a charity ticket selleroh i gloat! i gloat!

"hello, excuse me, yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda-"
"do you get paid for this?"
"yes, by the hour yadd-"
"ah, well then. no thanks."

all calmy excecuted with an absolute straight face which we know is so so difficult when he's a beng, a head and a half taller than me and had shoved his face inches away from me. wait- since he was tall, that would be his pink puremilk tee and not his face. and he smelled of cigarettes. and in the awkward angle that my neck was in [like talking to a skyscraper] i couldn't help stare at his lip ring which i grudgingly admit, looked cool AND good.

and and get this.
my friends who were 'hiding' behind me so i would do all the talking said that when i walked away, he was absolutely all "-what the hell?"
oh i win! score one! i bet he's never been treated that way by a short secondary school kid. i bet he expected me to grudgingly hand over my $2 just because he was intimidating.
hah! double hah! this is for everyone out there who have been forced to buy the bloody tickets. [again, i shall make it known of my belief that charity should not be a capitalistic thingy - it should be voluntary and not by the lure of attractive commisions and such]

it really gives me such a cheap power rush. *shivers*

i have within me, a despot all too willing to break out and make everyone bow down before me in salute - eville laugh *beams*
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and hah, i'm tall enough to be *drumrolls* a Singapore Girl.

*smirk* well technically, i am already uh, a singapore girl but that is SO not the point.
though i really do not want to be one, it makes me all warm and fuzzy that yes, i qualify height-wise [and therefore, am proven normal] and here is the point: i've grown one cm.

*beams* i revel on my absolute pathetic-dom and slight obsession with my height.
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today was a crappy exam day due to sadistic scheduling.
the idiots put BOTH that paper 2s of my sciences and illogically, seperated the paper 1s.

WHY?

do they not realize that this means we have to cram in one and a half year's worth of work [and i last-minute study.yes, i know its wrong but yeah, well.] and that actually means *gasp* cramming THREE years worth of work into two days which honestly, is IMPOSSIBLE.

flunk i will.

strangely though, i appear very calm in tumultous times such as these.

i look like a nice docile cow grazing in a nice organic pasture but what i really feel is like i'm the cow about to be made into a greasy, patented mcD Quarter-Pounder with Cheese.



guess where i've been mugging and what i've been eating for the apst few days.

there's this boy who works at the mcD i go to and he really is amazing. he looks 14 and i call him my LEB ie. Little Efficient Boy. he's fast, actually moves with speed to fetch my stuff and is polite, perky and he calls me 'maam'! oh i adore him so.
note to self: must tell the manager [who co-incidentally, isn't as nice] to give him a raise. but geez, he really does look kiddy - suppose it constitutes as child labour?