maybe it is, maybe this is all that’s left cos i’ve retold anything juicy to whoever matters a mere 20 times already. i’m all dry.
please note that the damage for that stash equals approximately RM145 (give or take with the fluctuating exchange rate). jyeeeeeeaah.
so, oh mah gawd.
no way.
did’ya hear?
i’m going to london. for a creative brainstorm. i’m going to london. flying business freaking class.
two equally desparite sources give two reasons for my good fortune:
i. i’m an all-rounder creative with both digital and above-the-line experience which will be invaluable to working out the kinks that come with creating a truly integrated (media neutral) campaign.
ii. someone else more worthy couldn’t go.
if i were the sort who cared, i’d tear my hair out with the anxiety of under-performing next to the shining brilliance of this First Choice, but bigger problems have reared their ugly heads:
how many cameras to bring? which cameras? what film? how many canisters? will i have time to meet my family? ARGH, shopping for winter clothing! uncle steve reported it’s now 0°C? you must be shitting me! do i stock up on thermal underwear? what if i have a brain freeze (hehe)? can i survive a week without JT?
oh, the tribulations of being a rockstar.
a couple of nights ago, pickway was relaying some random trivia over our weekly kim gary dinner.
“did you know, grasshoppers and other performers like aaron kwok tape their dicks down?”
i choked on a spoonful of shredded pork and chinese mushroom rice. “to avoid wardrobe malfunction?” i wondered, thinking of the shiny tiny hot pants favoured by mr kwok.
“it’s because they will, y’know, ’stand’.”
i sputtered a few grains of rice onto the table.
“you mean you’ve never heard before meh?”
do enlighten me on the hong kong entertainment scene, dear pickway.
“guys,” she said knowingly, smugly and triumphantly, “get hard when they’re tired.”
my whole life flashed (heh) before my eyes. i felt like a high school-er again.
“my boyfriend runs marathons, and he told me that when he and his friends finish running all tired like that, it gets awkward… cos you know.”
boy, was i confused. was i sorely lacking in the sex ed department? was she pulling my leg? was this something everyone knew? was this a rawang thing? i mean if only exhaustion caused erections. pfizer would go out of business.
*conversations originally in canto, yo. which makes it that much more hilarious.
does this mean my photos will be all award-winning picture perfect? hardly. it just means i don’t have to mooch off JT’s yummy lens (which has spoilt me for life) and i can also now peek into my neighbour’s house from the comfort of my room.
p/s nothing interesting has happened so far.
was stuffing my face today, more than a little distraught after some heated erm discussion with ma. then my loveliest gives me this:
he warned me that it isn’t a terribly expensive lens. like, who’s care, hon? it’s a lovely present. i love it, and i love you. <3
nikkor 70-300mm AF G. i just took a few photos of the moon tonight. i like.
tomorrow, 62mm filter!
an innocent browsing of photos. his girlfriend’s new baby niece links you back to a past you try, but can never forget.
a harem of girls who serendipitously gather at the same smoke-filled club each week, reveling in a drunken exchange of air kisses and bodily fluids.
some cocky attention whore is random online friend to your sifu…
…while sifu is cute younger brother to an adorable girl whom was supposed to make a friendly acquaintance. well, shit, that went totally awry.
someone close studied under someone closer. someone i can’t stand fucked someone else whose guts i hate.
your friends and my friend and his friend are all connected by brief, somewhat dodgy, interludes. already hazy pictures dog-eared by another year of parties and short-term memories, culminating in an unholy epiphany at the lorong mesui carpark.
a pretty girl with unbelievably long legs that stretch all the way to someone who turned green screen magic tricks. did you really ask him to show you his ink? here’s another Do Not Collect $200, Go Directly To Screaming In The Shower.
forget the phenomena: six degrees of kevin bacon bullshit; you’re living the three degrees of oh, for fuck’s sake.
photos from an impromptu session.
they look like stills from some chinese horror movie. i like very much.
conflict, strife and misery equals a recipe for heart-stopping, tear-jerking, wrist-slitting drama; my life as i know it is a lovely double chocolate cake, accompanied with a glass of cold milk.
absolutely delish.
