Hmmmm... trying to archive my previous posts. |

Try my little quizz What Being are You? ehehe.



footsie - you like to goof around and laugh with
the people you care about.
What Sign of Affection Are You?
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Devon Aoki
Which ridiculously attractive model are you?
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Sang the day away with admirable sang-froid in the face of a dessicating throat and mysterious smoke emanating from some hidden fissure. Kbox most devious in charging us $5 for each bowl of miserable fried bitties, but warblers we seek greener, cheaper pastures to moo in next time. |

Miss Universe 2003 was a gangly demon falling over its trailing scarves into the debris of drab Panama. Miss Japan suffered in the inept translation of a wizened monstress... Ms South Africa was practically chinless, and Miss starving Serbia looked dangerously close to expiration. Ms Dominican Republic had vivacity, but her face was strangely elongated... Miss Singapore the goggly-eyed alien could not pronounce "women", devoured the camera with her sullen ferocity and charmed the Panamanian audiences with her barbaric hotch-potch of a national costume salvaged from some dingy shop in a fetid alley of forgotten Singapore... thankfully we here in her most temperate motherland were spared the blight on our stinging eyes. |

Just watched "Sunset Boulevard" for the first time. A grotesque Hollywood palazzo clutches to its gnarly bosom a Miss Havisham-esque silent-era star clinging to memories of glamour; a devoted and sullen butler feeds her febrile delusions; a boyish screenwriter who fills his clothes nicely stumbles into the crumbling charade. A scary, (melo-)dramatic, baroquely tragic and masterly film to watch in the dead of night with headphones carving the crisp dialogue straight from the serpent lips of Gloria Swanson into thrilled ears, while William Holden catches the light of a bygone sun in his clearest, deepest eyes, and turns and sends little zingy zaps up and down our achy backs. |

A day of gluttony. First thing morning school, or rather an avaricious rush to grab second-hand books at not ridiculously low enough prices, but still there's no accounting for the madness of med students, i.e. crazy potheads who hover outside the medsoc room drooling before even the cleaners go their morning round. In the end the notes were all spirited away, and I merely managed to get a Pharmacology text at a somewhat inflated price, and a cheap cheap Genetics textbook with realllly nice pictures.
G decided to meet J, and J drove us in his sinister presence to Sply where his kindly father took over the wheels, to the relief of all and sundry sprites about. Met W in the tunnel between Takashimaya and Wisma Atria, where we proceeded to Jack's Place for a most horrid luncheon. The air smouldered of stale flesh, and the soup spoons dully glinted with the stains of bygone repasts. A grilled dory was most hideously overdone, while the chicken arrived laced with blood. Strawberry cream cake (weird crust! warm cream!) rounded off the lunch of infamy. |

I shall very soon now be watching Monty Python's Holy Grail... it has, apparently, features in japanese, Lego and subtitles for the wicked. Was sitting through Pearl Harbour suffering the intolerable Ben Affleck, fake-ish Kate Beckinsale and limp Josh Harnett garnishing long-drawn cliched effects with their spectacularly insipid acting. I'll attempt to wear Hellas's floral beads, if I dare. They are advertising Lee Ang's Wedding Banquet the Musical which promises to be really boring since the best they could show was a whiny lead voice spouting banal lyrics. |