Dear stomach,
I havent been treating you well at all lately, i think it's because my *giam gu within is trying to stop us from exploring new food places and partly also because you need to be alot smaller and tauter for me to look hotter in tswd aka that stupid white dress. the world would have been a kinder, happier place filled with sunshine streaming out of assholes, assholes who greet people with good mornings, good mornings of late leisurely extended brunches and going back to bed after. after?
alas there is no happily ever after, the world isn't built like that. so determines the multibillion dollar industries devoted to making sure that bridezillas' beautiful ugly betties are cloaked under a layer of spf 50 (at least) and boutiques of frou devoted to charging you a kidney for that extra 'intricately hand sewn beaded' detail that is about smaller than a teaspoon of sperm - all of which are guaranteed that you and your photographer are probably the only ones who'ld know about 'that secret spot of exoticly beaded lace'.
here's a riddle for you to twiddle: guess that secret spot behind my brazilian.
my tswd aka that stupid white dress is nothing like that of course. it is functional, graceful and practical, i'ld wear it like a soldier enlisting for the first time by scratching my crotch unceremoniously while i sashay gracefully down the aisle if i could (but the pastor and the future moth aka man of the house probably wouldn't approve - my, aren't acronyms fun). indeed, my dress will be covering me from ankles to tits, sleeves are draped wrists to collarbones, all of which are indicative of my born again state of virginity. i figured that since i will be pure and virginal only for one day (or 3 hours to be exact), it would make little sense to pay so much for a matching pair of white virginal wedding-ish shoes so i will have killer slutty heels instead.
just so we're clear, my dear stomach, i'll be walking us to the nearest buffet complete with tandoor and chef, the moment we're done with the i dos. after which, i will check myself into a spa and plan out slutty bdsm playtime scenarios and 101 ways to trash a bridal suite.
giam gu (n) - miserly old auntie
So the other day, i went to my first block party organised by the residents' committee, the same lovely people who'ld knock on doors to tell you which political party to vote for - yes dammit, the same one who brought you cheap food, entertainment and road side parties. The party wasn't exactly full moon techno trance with free drugs by the bay of koh phangan (bearing in mind, it is Singapore) but it was interesting because it was placed right at the side of the road so there you have it, full public confidence in a lack of terrorism or possibly the GOH (guest of honour for the uninitiated) in question wasn't exactly the most politically popular man to terrorise on the island. In fact, my grand aunts and grandmas' exact response when the emcee introduced the GOH, they went, 'Huh, who ah?'
But i suppose this is the way to win the hearts and votes of the senior population in the neighbourhood complete with free umbrellas, cheap food, free entertainment and the once in a lifetime chance to win yourselves a sandwich toaster, they even hired this amateur magician with an cheap american accent to wow the kids.
Half the females in my family went on the Saturday night, partly because we're past waiting at home for young korean hunks with British passports to haul us out for a hot date. We're independent women, capable of buying ourselves bling with the remnants of our CPF monies (at least my grandaunts, grandma and mommy are) only to realise we weren't the only fierce independent ladies there that night. As a testimony to the night's events, i am providing pictures that should in no way incriminate these lovely geriatric hip hop honeys decked out in their finest made-in-china Dior and Versace.
This is my story.
Check out Madam Dior on the right.
Did i mention that we played games as well? Being in an old neighbourhood, the people's people were naturally worried about protecting the fortunes of the residents (who else is going to pay for upgrading costs should anything *touch wood* happen) so they got some cute police officer to play 'What's the phone number of your friendly neighbourhood police post!' and some environment guy to play, 'now old boys and girls, how do we breed female mosquitoes that can infect that chow kuan neighbour who cheats at mahjong with dengue fever?'
The lovely missus won herself a brand new plastic waterbottle. We sat until the end of lucky draw, watched an old encik gyrate to the catcalls of 300 fervent, adoring aunties much to the chagrin of the politician. We even sat through the lucky draw but didn't win the prized sandwich toaster.
You can watch gyrating encik here -> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SleMlefNPLQ
"Stop it, my friend is puking," was said over the phone this afternoon. First of all, how the fuck does the friend know what i've just said (which, admittedly, is puke worthy and crawls along the line of an accusatory you -don't-love-me ploy).
that went really good on the ego. pfft.
Next time, tell him not to friggin stand so near to the phone.
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They say that men love it when they hear their friends being pussified by their girlfriends, it gives them a reason to act disgusted at the apparent lack of respect to the caveman's code of behavior which is one leg hair short of peeing at the nearest tree.
Next time, tell him not to friggin stand so near to the phone or do what most men do, they move to a more discreet spot to take a potentially emasculating phonecall, away from judgment.
If you could pick a cartoon world to live in, which would it be? Why?
Submitted by Scio, Scio.
I want to be in roger rabbit's world, as jessica rabbit's horny lesbian chambermaid with a fetish for soaping up her mistress.
Alternatively i'ld like to be a Japanese God in the form of a massive penis that every willowy japanese housewife straddles for fertility blessings, in the x-rated version of miyazaki's 'spirited away by hentai orgasms'.
Why dont you like me
Why dont you like yourself?
Should I bend over?
Should I look older just to be put on the shelf?
I could be brown
I could be blue
I could be violet sky
I could be hurtful
I could be purple
I could be anything you like
Gotta be green
Gotta be mean
Gotta be everything more
Why dont you like me?
Why dont you like me?
Why dont you walk out the door!
Say what you want to satisfy yourself
But you only want what everybody else says you should want.
I'ld try to be like Grace Kelly but all her looks were too sad.
--------------------------------
Meanwhile, conversations with one side of self.
Are you happy?
No. I'm still far from taking over the world. Are you?
No, but i'm trying.
Are you inviting me to your wedding?
I'ld rather you remain my imaginary friend
You won't see me coz i won't even be there although i will send a gift with a cryptic note
psycho. I'm going to shelve you away with all my imaginary selves and i will no longer talk to you. I will not have any doubt in the decisions that i'ld be making.
For better or worse eh?
something like that.
oh, not me. someone else.
on one of those forums where stepford fucking wives to be gather around and talk about how much CPF money to park aside or dump into their flat, why their mother in laws are such bitches to them, which ring shop, cake shop, florist, bridal gown shop, designer, make up artist, brand of condoms, brand of ovens, location of marital nest - to sum it off, one of those places where deluded overgrown daddy's girls crowd around and pat themselves proudly on the vagina back for making the right choice to marry a mommy's boy (who probably thinks he shits vanilla ice cream which is why she hates you and wants to make *kway chap with your *dua deng).
*kway chap - a dish of squares of soft rice noodles in herbal brew, accompanied by pig's innards and other delightful porky bits, tofu and egg.
*dua deng - hokkien dialect for intestines
The bridal forums are a constant of entertainment and news for me, with the occassional polite hissy catfight in words only available to trolls like me (because i generally have little life, i'm lurking around somewhere all the time and the moderators are like politically correct courtesy patrols). Unless your main intention is to maim and escape swiftly, one generally avoid clashing with sisters of the same predicament, that is unknowingly marrying a whole troupe of soft cocks.
Hence one needs to be on one's best behavior at all times on the bridal forum to avoid being silenced by anal retentive moderators (often former bridezillas themselves, now desperate housewives with too many extra pounds - Borat describes it as she whose vagine now hangs like sleeve on wizard- we are talking about the same women who found it their God given moral duty to escape to the forums from their unhappy, frumpy, sexless, married lives - what?? i'm just assuming it happens to everyone, eventually - disguised as advice -giving, aunt-agony matrons with good intentions
Despite all, little conflict can be found on such message boards that celebrate the happiness of white frou frou dresses, overpriced - overemphasised engagement rings and flowers that cost so much, the florists swear they have been fertilized by the turd of Europorean royalty.
All the bandwidth has given bridezillas the freedom to share, discuss, tear apart, analyze the perfect wedding dress in message posts spanning more than 132 pages (one page takes about 8 - 10 short posts). Then there's that section with the sex advice.
An excerpt from ''distressed_gal'
"Hi all
I need advise and dun know where to turn to. we got married 2 months ago and until now we still cannot manage to have sex.
no matter how my hubby try to penetrate me, he just cannot 'put it in', even when i try to open my legs to the widest. anyone have this problem?? what can i do? my hubby and i are both frustrated but have no idea where to get help from. for the record, i m a virgin, he is not. we have tried everything from lubricants to lubricated condoms but in vain....
"
Here's an answer from a well-meaning sister, Tammy.
"I think the problem might be with your hubby. so far, everyone advises you on how to relax. but i think your hubby's organ might be too soft to penetrate as well. a non-virgin man doesn't mean he has a big and hard one
It can be shorter and smaller relatively. It tends to be more bendable and doesn't 'poke' that well."
- more here http://www.singaporebrides.com/forumboard/messages/3/6439.html?1142424411
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What can i say, i suppose one of the prime husbandy duties is to being able to poke very very well.
Do you poke well?
Yep, i still hate weddings and i'm really trying not to hate mine. Just because i don't feel the desire for my relationship to be validated by a showy expression of gluttony and borrowed wealth doesn't mean i will not make painful attempts to do it up really nicely. My main aim is to try and get everyone to enjoy themselves at least and for my wedding photographer to take flattering pictures of me at all times. Nevermind about the rest of em.
Today, while my boys were sharing a book quietly in the library, one of the substitute teachers came up to me and told me, ''How do you handle it? Look at Joseph (with an intellectual disability), the whole class gets distressed by him, he screams, laughs, cries and hits his classmates. He should not be in a mainstream classroom, he should be in your classroom, separated from the mainstream boys. It'll be better for him."
My heart broke when i saw other boys tease Joseph, pushed him and took his book away purposely from him to engage him in a play of chase. My heart broke when he screamed, got scolded by his teacher then ignored. My heart broke at the thought of this teacher agreeing with the idea of separating typically developing children and children with disabilities.
How did people come to this conclusion.
Perhaps some segregation would be sensible for children with high support needs but children who can go to school, learn about limits, boundaries, appropriate social and public behavior can develop wonderfully in a mainstream environment. Perhaps these children just needed teachers who would teach them regardless of their disability, teachers who are willing to give it a go and stay through the process of learning with little pressure on these children to perform academically.
Is it the fault of the education system to want only A grades from little children, demand that teachers be able to cope with 30 young children - all learners of different styles, yet still deliver a curriculum and hand in work dutifully for head of departments for the sake of face value. Is it the fault of schools who do not want to register children with disabilities in fear they might pull down the school aggregate/rating.
What about these so called mainstream children who are able to see children with disabilities in the same learning environments. Would they make friends with them, would they invite these children to their birthdays, sleep overs, share a tent with them during camp, teach them a new sport, would they develop higher levels of empathy and be the ones who'ld offer persons with disabilities jobs in adulthood.
I'ld like to see that. Meanwhile, i'll be sure to push for my boys to join in more mainstream subjects in school, certainly they'ld learn good things from their abled peers but they'ld sure as hell have alot of fun learning the bad things as well.
Ah well, who am i to disallow peer influence. Besides, i see it as a good thing that their peers want to influence my boys in good and bad ways. Unlike Joseph. Joseph's teachers were completely unprepared for him. I told the substitute teacher perhaps the school counsellor with special ed experience could share some practical classroom management strategies to manage Joseph's behavior.
But the teacher will have to take that step to ask for help, to ask for advice and she'ld have to be the one with the desire to do so.
Or she could just mark the workbooks, deliver her lessons according to curriculum and go home.
Now for all things nice and spice.
Pick for the week:
Blog: http://grantmeserenity.blogspot.com/2007/03/makeover-post-i-hope-theres-power-surge.html
Forum thread: http://www.indi.ca/2006/12/this-week-in-my-pants/
Video:
Visual:
- picture taken from http://www.healthinitiative.org/IMAGES/std
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what? all i did was google for cock rot.
you know that question that many girls have been wanting to ask?
Issit worse to have a curse of itchy balls or itchy dickhead.
Ever had one of those i-don't-want-to-get-married-anymore days?
I'm having one of them right now.
But i will still get married, i suppose.
How else to irritate the shit out of him, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health.
The day i can tuck my tits into my socks, i'll be right there, getting my jollies out of irritating the shit out of him.
When i'm 30, i will most probably pop out a wailing, ungrateful, utterly insensitive heartless miniature that'll remind himself of him but not before biting off a few digits off his hand and calling him all forms of names not acceptable in the bible during delivery.
When i'm 40, he can move into 'the other room' with all his tech toys. except, all the remotes will be with me.
When i'm 50, i will kick him and the bastards out of the house, grab my sister, cousin and other newly widowed friends and embark on an 'active seniors' road trip holiday.
When i'm 60, i will most probably strap him down and dangle his favorite desserts in front of him, for kicks. Then lie back next to him, still strapped down and now muffled and watch geriatric gay porn.
When i'm 70, i will hide his dentures the morning his friends are due for a visit and accidentally reveal his bedroom incapabilities to satisfy himself due to a cancerous growth the size of an onion in his ass. Then proceed to take out the butt plug from him at night before he turns suspicious.
When i'm 80 and most probably dead, i will jump out from my coffin to scare him one last time and make him want to pee in his panties except, it will be painful because he'll probably be halfway down with prostate cancer and can pee out a few drops a week.
Ah, the possibilities are just delightful.
Gurly Mann!!! Nippley man! He ate my motor boat! OOOoooOOOO You'll be pumping Ovaltine! OOooOOOOOoo Shanti's salty one shot tea!... read more
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