A Day In The Life Of ...

Good morning, this is one little twit speaking from her office at ten bloody o-five am. She is wearing an orangey sweater teamed with polka dotted top and a brown skirt and a pair of Mango chandelier earrings.



She has already ate her two samosas which she dug out the 'kandang' (means potato in malay) filling for one of them and is now craving for a cup of hot Twinings Earl Grey which she deems is the best brand of Earl Grey around. She likes her tea with half a teaspoonful of sugar and no milk.

She is now considering what to have for lunch even though there is still some time to lunch hour. She may go to JTC to have that $2 curry-chaipeng or even pop to Ikea if she is feeling up to it. (Latest news: the said colleague below is ordering in KFC & Pizza Hut to feed her!) And for dinner, she is going to attend a farewell feast for one of her colleagues. They will go to a swanky Japanese restaurant at Cuppage and spend the rest of the night trying to drown the estranged colleague with Sake to make it an unforgettable night. She will probably eat a lot of tempuras, unagi and agedashi tofu. If she doesn't get too drunk, she will come home and finish up her Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix and read a few blogs.

Hope your day is better than she. And oh yeah, add her to your msn if you are willing. She is bored. [hellotwit at hotmail.com]

Basis Of Morality - None Beauty Nor Wit Can Buy

You know, such an incident is surely pretty damn sad but magnified by an autopsy of his actions by callous singaporeans spurred by our Singapore's most famous blogger makes the read cringe-worthy. I won't say i am not surprised to find so little compassion from the masses, a staggering amount it is. Some may find the victim's actions silly or stupid but you must agree that it is not kind to leech on another person's agony in order to find public consensus and make light of others' plight with laughter. And no, compassion is not religious business, it is human business.

"Each of us in our own way can try to spread compassion into people’s hearts. Western civilizations these days place great importance on filling the human 'brain' with knowledge, but no one seems to care about filling the human 'heart' with compassion."

A Little Bit Of Everything

I love hearing about my friend's conversation, they cracked me big time.

One fine day, Girl M.'s mobile phone went ring! ring! ring! and ...

Boy G.: Hello, how are you?
Girl M.: Where have you been?
Boy G.: Oh, im in IMH now.
Girl M.:Where?
Boy G.: IMH. Institute of Mental Health.
Girl M.: *pause* What are you doing there?
Boy G. Nothing. One day, i took marijuana and got high and became frustrated with my life and i decided to surrender to the police, telling them i took marijuana. Then they sent me to IMH.
Girl M.: ...

(This moment, i interjected with peals of laughter. The police definitely thought he was mental for surrendering to them and probably did not believe he took marijuana.)

Boy G.: Anyway, the filmfest shows for this year are out! There are so many shows i want to watch!
Girl M.: But you are in IMH, can you get out?

Boy G. ignored Girl M. and continued rattling off the list of shows he is interested in. (IMH must be getting better in terms of facility. Do you mean there is internet connection in there even?)

Girl M.: OK, when are you expected to get out?
Boy G.: I have no idea but should be soon.
Girl M.: Oh, so did you make any new friends in there? (?!?!)
Boy G.: Yeah i talked to a few of them but they seemed crazy so i did not interact with them all that much anymore.

.....


Stéphane Pompougnac is wonderful. I have not had that much fun dancing since U.N.K.L.E and i shocked myself by behaving like a *groupie! One smile and one wave from him sent me into hysteria and i started jumping up and down. He took pictures of the crowd with his camera and i started smiling brilliantly into his direction (as if it can capture my sweet smile). Anyhow i had about 2 hours worth of exercise and i composed myself enough not to behave like a groupie anymore. You know Zouk has this female platform where only females are allowed to go up the platform and strut their stuff right? During that whole time, there was this one girl who was baring her meagre boobs with a low cut top and while lip size is the key to sexual attraction, she did not really have to give a mock sexy pout, trying to make her lips look very full and seductive and ended up being called 'trout lips' by me. I would not have resorted to name-calling should she show a little bit more restrain in her obvious wanting of a french male, Stéphane Pompougnac. She did not really have to whistle in his direction and touch herself to draw his attention. She did not really have to flag her arms like a bat and think that emitting her "come hither" armpit juice will draw him to her side, just like german female cockroaches do. In any case, she did all the above and unfortunately Stéphane Pompougnac saw her once and tried his damn hardest not to look in that direction again.

*groupie: An enthusiastic supporter or follower: a ballet groupie; a fashion groupie; a Stéphane Pompougnac groupie.

By the way, for those who are finding some movie to watch, try 3 iron, it is a short film and pretty entertaining even without much dialogue. I often think how i can live without restriction in my life: to work when it pleases me, to sleep when i tire, to smile when it suits me and to fuck whenever i feel the need.

One Twit Goes Porno

Men are funny people.

They definitely like girls to go down on them. I've never seen anyone say no to oral sex before.

And when you do and lavish it with extra attention, they actually stop you from paying 'lip service' just to ask one same question.

.
.
.
.
.

"Why do you enjoy sucking me so much?"

It puzzles and amuses me to no end and i cannot afford any decent form of explanation. If you must force an answer out of me, i guess it's because i seek to please and going down is a sure way to heighten the pleasure. Especially if the female kneels in front of the male in the most submissive position and look at him innocently out of her big, wide eyes while the mouth performs its wanton best.

But all them males who asked, give me equal suspicion that they want me to praise the magnificence of their tumescence. Females could be insecure about everything but most males are insecure about that one thing.

Premium? My Ass!

煮豆燃豆箕，
豆在斧中泣
本是同根生，
相煎何太急

My friends went to Australia for studies and during the last 2 months of their stay, they stayed with this housemate, let's call him A. A is as Singaporean as my other 2 friends are. With one exception. He seems to think that he is much more 'premium' than them.

On them drinking normal supermarket milk:
A: "You all should try this milk i bought. That is the premium brand amongst all the others. You can taste the difference."

On him eating an omelette cooked by them:
A: "Oh man, your omelette doesn't taste good! You should be like me, buy the premium type of eggs. You can taste that it's so fresh.."

On him and mushrooms:
A: "Your shiitake mushrooms doesnt taste as good as mine. I tell you, my mushrooms are from the ....."

On him and butter up his ass:
A: "Oh man, this butter that i bought is so smooth that the moment you apply on the bread, you can see that it is not cheap (?)"

One day, the friend was eating a tim tam and drinking some milk when A walked past. He made an irritating, disapproving grunt before commenting loudly "So unhealthy" before stalking off. The friend, groggy from under-sleep, decided to ignore his comments and continued eating. A walked past deliberately once more and as if to make his point heard, repeated the exact words except louder.

This irritant also has appalling living habits like not clearing his rubbish for a week and causing a carpetful of maggots to take root and further accused my friends of taking his 'best spoon' when they left the place back home. He further requested them to mail the spoon back to him! Of course i laughed in glee when my friends retaliated by using his premium vacuum cleaner to 'typhoon-ize' the maggots. As if one irritant is not enough, there has to be a duplicate in the form of a second housemate who prized 'premium' goods as much as A did. I could imagine them, sitting together, wearing a silly grin, clattering premium pots and pans and together they will chortle:

"We would not buy anything less premium,
because we are the premium of the premiums.
Our eggs must be very fresh,
for we would not accept anything less.
Our milk must be from the premium cows,
give us inferior goods and we'll turn it down.
You dont say about our shiitake,
they're the best you can ever hope to have."

As if buying the better quality goods will elevate one's status and classify them as elitists.

So? Premium? my ass!

The Selflessness Of Being Me

The word 'me' holds a heavyweight meaning for me, in more ways than one.

You know, i am scared of people with enlarged earholes. I cannot help staring at the earholes without this queasy feeling in my stomach and much as i try to draw my attention away from them, they still hold their power over me like moths to flame and they just seem to echo "Look at me... Look at what big earholes i have".

There are certain kind of people i have a phobia of because instead of doing the rightfully polite thing - to look them in the eyes, my gaze would wander of their own accord to somewhere else. The 'Big Earholes' is one of them, the 'Engraved' is another. The 'Engraved' refer to the massively and heavily tattooed individuals. I just simply cannot look at them in the eye because there are so much somewhere else on their body to look at! Now i sound sexual, don't i?

Now, i look at people, i can smile sincerely right in their faces no matter what they are and how they look like. You do not have to be exceptionally good-looking for me to smile along with you. You do not have to hold great charisma for me to lose my inhibition and talk animatedly like old friends might. You do not have to have smaller earholes for me to offer you a handshake. You do not have to be slim and have great fashion sense for me to offer you a hug when you need one. What matters is that you reciprocate good will and is sincere too.

It outrages me and it grieves me when some people seem to be devoid of delicacy and sensitivity when coming to the weight issue. Not only do they make derogatory remarks about big girls, they treat them with less respect than they would to a slim female counterpart. They worship the ground slim vapid empty vessels sashay on and cast nought a second look to a bigger someone who might have much more character and inner beauty. There had been moments i met males and their gaze lie entirely on my bulging little fat tummy and i think i know what was running through their heads

"My, oh my, what a massive tummy you have! ... (the better to swallow me with)"





and it was funny how they avoided your attempted eye contact and you feel vaguely like plague. If it is not the tummy, it is the breasts. Males would mutter incoherently to the breasts and seem to expect a reply in return, perhaps by the majestic heave of the grand overrated bosom or the slight perk of acknowledgement by the nipples, just enough to get them mildly sexcited.

Emma: "Ample bosom"?
Alex: What's wrong with that? It's literary.
Emma: Oh, well, in that case, you forgot the heaving.
Alex: The what?
Emma: In every book I've ever read, whenever there's an ample bosom, there's always heaving.
(taken from Alex & Emma)

Friday Night Fever

It has so much flavour sitting under a starless sky, along a colony of red umbrellas and 'smoking' barbeque pits as we dipped, tore and tasted the tender meat from the sticks of satay and drowned it with iced teh tarik.

I felt so much like burping out loud in public, rubbed my rounding (perhaps already rounded if i am willing to concede far more that i am willing to admit) tummy in satisfaction. Of course i did not. I just sat there smiling agreeably at all my colleagues and watched in silence as streams of secondary school kids started filling the place.

A quarter to twelve. These young chits should be at home sleeping while the adults come out to roam, a perogative for people my age. Afterall, i do not recall being given the liberty to stay out this late when i was their age, why should they enjoy such luxury? The laments of a deprived ex-young chit.

In any case, i left soon after to join a friend at a club and the moment i stepped into the place, there was a sense of foreboding. The dance floor was occupied with mainly males and two females and for the few females who were there, they did a great job at catching my attention. Firstly, no girl should ever dance with their legs spread open! And secondly, no girls should ever dance with their legs spread wide open! In any case, it made them look like our feathered friend - the Chicken as they strutted their stuff (with their legs wide open) in a mock sexy manner.

Four, i reached my home. Eight, i fell asleep.

Forested Thoughts

This one little twit, found a way to contain her brimming merriment by scrawling on the bark of a tree. The tree, you are looking at it.