Friday, January 20, 2006
Balls, balls and balls.Im the ultimate singaporean, tennis watching couch potato on earth. Probably that's why i dont really like to go out nowadays, unless there was a real purpose to. Even clothes for Chinese new yr didnt seem a good enough reason to miss good tennis on television, (although venus lost in the first round and i was, quote, fucking sad.) Then again, they say retailers usually only earn their money from guys once a year, so right now im in a rut of danger in having to wear the same collection of clothes for the new yr (but the truth about retailers is that they too, dont regularly change the clothes for guys on the racks that often too) . Of course, unless i decide to wear the short sleeved shirt my mother recently decided to buy for me, which has the most distinguishible, astonishingly (or not) similar design as her own clothes. The aunty style. And she had already thrown the nuclear 'fat man' emotional bomb on my big singaporean yellow ass by exclaiming that she would be hurt if i didnt wear it on the first day of new year. Lets just say from here on it you would never see me on any photos for this new year. Except for my little nephew. God i must show you the new prince in my life. I might as well say prince too, as i usually visit my relatives less than 5 times a year, so he would remain mysterious to me always like i was a commoner.This year has defintely started out with questions for me. Just the other day, i was experiencing the worst day. My working pass for the army base went through a dry wash in the washing machine, and lets just say i didnt even have to put bleach into the machine. Then as i hanged out my uniform in the camp and went to sleep, i woke up to see it drenched in the pouring rain. I then didnt get to eat my lunch cause it was thrown away, followed up by missing my dessert at night due to miscalculations in the orders. For the climax, someone took away two sets of my new uniforms which i had drawn from the army shop back home, leaving me empty handed, and headed (ironic cause my head was certainly full of angst) as I went home. God this is a loserish entry. Im losing my style of writing, and hence i shall stop.
Written fashion may not be history @9:43 PM
