chaka chaka

i rushed to bombshell yesterday. flagged down an okay sort of cabbie – he didn’t talk about homicide/rape cases and repeatedly tell me “badan you kecik boleh muat dalam beg” shit – who was very much into indian politics.

met ming who looked very cute in his pseudo colonel sanders top (sans tie). after he put the white muumuu with blue trim on me, we looked like twins.

he was washing my hair and taking the piss out of me at the same time, as usual, when suddenly in the midst of his utterly fabulous monologue he gets an epiphany. “i’m so mean to you… i’m always so mean to you aren’t i?” i contemplate that for 2 seconds but before i get to answer he continues “but then how else can i make sure you come back?” yes, darling, you know i love the pain. anyway i got a belated birthday present. wheeeeeee!

after the cut, camwhore time!

“like a loving couple” konon

was supposed to head to the pixel party but the “quick” detour soon turned into another uber drinking session. the outtake? random photos in my camera i don’t remember taking and puke in my crocs + on the rubber mats in my car + on my feet. wtf.

thankfully i’m a girl, and just like how we don’t sweat (we glow) we also don’t throw up like smelly hairy men, so my regurgitated beer smells like fucking roses and rainbows, yo.

found this photo from last night. it may appear that i’m trying to look cute but i’m really just trying to balance my big head.