razzle dazzle
today morning, I was running late (because I dawdled until 8am) and was rummaging around the communal sock drawer for a pair of ankle socks to wear to work. I rummaged and rummaged and the only proper one left was a pair of effing mismatched socks!
ARGH! It was so annoying. My sister has apparently developed a love for a new trend of mismatched stuff (how about a pair of mismatched eyes then? or maybe tits? one big one small) and that love has even extended to her socks. Hey, if they were knee-length socks or something higher than the ankle which are, perhaps, more visible, I wouldn't mind or care! But they are bleeding ankle socks! who in the bloody world wears mismatched ankle socks!
and hey, if she's considerate enough to actually wear the mismatched pair, and wear the partners of the two pairs that were taken for...mismatching,(where my mother would have the chance to pair them up during the wash) I wouldn't be complaining so much. BUT NO! She decides that she's the only person in the whole world to wear the damn socks and just leaves the poor partners in there, making it very inconvenient for a person who intends to go to work without looking like she chose her socks in the dark.
*mumblemumblegrowlsmumblemumble*
okay rant over.
these few days I've been hanging out at Holland Village. I remembered I used to spend a part of my growing years in Holland Village (1)learning how to swim (2)hanging out at my aunt's house and (3)babysitting my cousin Nat. I quite liked Holland Village's laidback feeling and ARGH THEIR HOUSES THERE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL FARK I WANT TO LIVE THERE PLEASE.
anyway, with beautiful houses come beautiful cars. I had the honour of seeing two ferrari carreras (andrew: POR-SHAY LAH!) in the span of one day, and sexy little BMW convertibles zipping all over Holland Village with equally sexy little ladies behind the wheel in glam shades...*sighs*
Well I was in the shuttle bus leaving work today, and the car in front happened to be a mazda convertible with its top glamourously down. (but it's peak hour and the top is down?? suicide!) I tried to catch a glimpse of the driver, but all I managed to see was...a great big bald spot!
Hmm. So if people say, "the bigger the car, the smaller the dick"... would the saying "the flashier the car, the bigger the bald spot" be true then?
ARGH! It was so annoying. My sister has apparently developed a love for a new trend of mismatched stuff (how about a pair of mismatched eyes then? or maybe tits? one big one small) and that love has even extended to her socks. Hey, if they were knee-length socks or something higher than the ankle which are, perhaps, more visible, I wouldn't mind or care! But they are bleeding ankle socks! who in the bloody world wears mismatched ankle socks!
and hey, if she's considerate enough to actually wear the mismatched pair, and wear the partners of the two pairs that were taken for...mismatching,(where my mother would have the chance to pair them up during the wash) I wouldn't be complaining so much. BUT NO! She decides that she's the only person in the whole world to wear the damn socks and just leaves the poor partners in there, making it very inconvenient for a person who intends to go to work without looking like she chose her socks in the dark.
*mumblemumblegrowlsmumblemumble*
okay rant over.
these few days I've been hanging out at Holland Village. I remembered I used to spend a part of my growing years in Holland Village (1)learning how to swim (2)hanging out at my aunt's house and (3)babysitting my cousin Nat. I quite liked Holland Village's laidback feeling and ARGH THEIR HOUSES THERE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL FARK I WANT TO LIVE THERE PLEASE.
anyway, with beautiful houses come beautiful cars. I had the honour of seeing two ferrari carreras (andrew: POR-SHAY LAH!) in the span of one day, and sexy little BMW convertibles zipping all over Holland Village with equally sexy little ladies behind the wheel in glam shades...*sighs*
Well I was in the shuttle bus leaving work today, and the car in front happened to be a mazda convertible with its top glamourously down. (but it's peak hour and the top is down?? suicide!) I tried to catch a glimpse of the driver, but all I managed to see was...a great big bald spot!
Hmm. So if people say, "the bigger the car, the smaller the dick"... would the saying "the flashier the car, the bigger the bald spot" be true then?