Prada.

 I was walking alone in Midvalley and I naturally veered into MPH. MPH is an awesome place to hang out, full of comics, books, booklets, encyclopedias and magazines. After walking into the entrance, I instinctively head straight for the comics section to read a comic book or two of ZITS. As a walked past the books and bookshelves, I remained on course with singularity and focus. 

Colors whizzed by, as famous faces looked at me. People were standing in my way, their noses buried in books of many titles and faces. Cars, planes and ships pictured across hardcovered encyclopedias. Then this woman. 

She was beautiful. She had fair, flawless skin, and perfectly contrasted black eyes held in place by an aquiline nose. Her oval face framed by long locks of wavy dark hair. Through plush red lips she didn't smile. Somehow she caught my eyes through messes of books and color. Framed in a background of glossy white, she was beautiful. 

I stared a moment at her. The words BAZAAR showed that she was merely picture. Sigh, but I still couldn't take my eyes off her. She didn't smile and now seemed to look right at me. Beckoning me to everything she was the symbol of. 

Fast cars, rich food, huge parties, suits, ties, mansions and multi million dollar deals. Not only that, suave and glamourous looks, slicked black hair finished with the perfect black shoes. Red carpets, red wine and blue bloods. Time for dreaming was over. 

I still wonder why people love magazines like those, why people like me love magazines like those. Some like it to keep abreast of the latest fashions and trends. Some simply to be inspired. Others to dream, and others to remind themselves what dreams looked like.

I still wonder why I like glossy Magazines when the clothes and garments in them cost enough to send a child through college and more. I keep thinking about how much I want those Gucci Jeans, That Armani suit and that Banana Republic shirt before realising that they were fitted on a stereotypically perfect male model. Sigh... forget it. 

But still, its nice to imagine. 

 

Pro

 Crastination finishes the title. Its amazing how a five minute break can mutate into an oversized hour break. Especially when So You Think You Can Dance comes on Tv, blaring its attractive colors and attractive people at you. Just that one more minute it asks and oddly enough, being the incredibly hard working, focused and brilliant person I am, I listen. 

Just an hour, oh wells, I have all night. The clock counts of the time, the long hand passes nine. Glides past ten and when I head to the fridge, its screaming eleven. Where did all my time go to!? In that three hours wasting my wee time away (scottish mou) I could have, done com science, History and economics! And perhaps get in a witty blog post for Word Flies (the greatest thing ever to hit the blogging community).

I sincerely apologise Jowee. (when I come back to malaysia I shall bathe you in sincere praise and insincere flattery)

Its amazing how procrastination always seems to get the better of me. There was this time I had the entire day to my assignments. But I just didn't feel like studying or learning the components of a computer! Now everyone would probably go." we ALL feel like studying." But wanting to procrastinate felt simply so sublime and superb! 

Its like sweet nectar dripping into my mouth, each and every drop uttering, "you don't wanna do work sexy, come back to bed... mmm."

 Or, you don't want to do work babe, come make that fattening butter, bacon sandwich and watch tv...mmm"

The books look terrible to look at, sort of like a long line at Mcdonalds and NOT doing work looks like a Wendy's store with NO customers NEXT to Mcdee's! Procrastination, what a terrible, negative, complicated word for something so seductive and beautiful. 

Procrastination should be named Jessica Biel, Lara Croft or Makarios (sexy). 

Sigh, There remains a need to address procrastination and to completely fish it out from my life. 

TODAY IS THE DAY I DECLARE A WAR AGAINST PROCRASTINATION! 

 

Hmm...

I need to start telling people about Christ. 

Ninjas, There's a new Sherrif in Town

AND BY SHERIF, I ACTUALLY MEAN A NEW BLOG!!!

In fact, the new blog was so big that they actually had a gargantuan academy award-esque unveiling for it! And it was visited by a ton of select A-list Celebrities. Now come on guys, if Hugh Laurie actually cut back the production of House just to be attend the global unveiling of the blog "World Flies" shouldn't you check it out!? Let me answer for you. Of course. Now just to prove that there was actually a huge celebration for the opening of the blog, here are some pictures!

Here's Hugh. Thought I was kidding didja? Well, no. I wasn't we actually started chatting, seems his dad was actually a real doctor. He also told me he was kinda excited about checking out the our new blog and was also ecstatic when he heard that Me, Jowee and Daryl invited him to the unveiling of our blog. And yes, he arrived on a Triumph motorcyle. 

Titanic boy actually gate crashed without an invite. He got lucky, GiGi actually waved him in on seeing him. 

As night closed on, the countdown begun. Then, there was this giant computer screen infront of the plush, luxurious theater full of starlets! Daryl, Me and Jowee together clasped this giant mouse and slid its cursor over the Link to the blog that appeared on Google. There was this distinct, elegant silence that came over the crowd. And then, the page loaded and behold!! 

Jack Black's reaction when we clicked on the link. He actually kind of a shy fellow but Jowee had her camera around so we got him at that perfect moment. 

No kidding, Obama's wife nearly cried. But ever the gentleman, Obie was over there with her. I'm actually not surprised that she cried, Daryl himself was sobbing like little girl when the unveiled blog reached the world wide web for the first time on that huge screen. All the A-listers and society's greatest overcome by awe were blinking back tears at the beauty and genius of it all. 

After that; was champagne all around plus fire works by the harbour. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Word Flies. 

Viva la Flies!