Saturday, October 31, 2009

OMG

MISHIE WORE A DRESS.


and looked very nice in it. 

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Saya Ber Emo.

Well, I am emoting. Whenever I stumble across some highly emotional blogs, I constantly wonder how on the deepest, darkest night can this person possibly go on with life? Every sad little post is a small miracle telling us the depressed person on the other side of the internet hasn't slit his wrists with his eyeliner.

 Or stabbed himself with his black color pencils.

 Or drowned in his black nail polish.  

Or his tears. 

Then I realized. 

Emo blogs and emo posts only come to existence when normal people are emo. As such, three emo posts in a month could mean the writer could only be emotional three days of the month. What a discovery! With that gauge in mind, measure the amount of times an emo writer blogs, as the result should give you an estimation of how many times he or she feels under the weather. If its merely three to four times a month, you have a particularly joyful creature who gets depressive whenever monday roles around, not a emo shleemo. 

Personally I endure emotional ups and downs religiously and fanatically. If I was a woman, I would be pregnant with an entire college of art students. Due to my blessed personality I would be from one euphoric extreme to the other groveling extreme. From the soaring heights of mount everest to the disemboweling depths of the Sarlacc. All within a single hour. This leaves me absolutely no time to blog about my emoness. 

However, I do emo.

I emo very well in fact. 

I shall now write a poem about my emoness. *ahem*

I hate myself
the passing pall of infant sorrow
I hate myself
oh the woe of dastardly tomorrow

I hate you
go and die now
I hate you
you ugly old cow

I hate the world
for making me cry
I hate the world
oh sigh oh sigh. 


PIZZA DELIVERY IS HERE!! YAY!!! WOO!! 







*Please do forgive me if I've trodden on emo sensibilities. I mean no insult. A blog is your own to express your own opinions. Unless those opinions are rude and vulgar. 

Monday, October 26, 2009

Knees On Floor.

An impending execution is something most would prefer not to go through. Many in fact would find the prospect of having one's neck divided by a cold metal axe a grotesque and fearsome experience.

 Once, a long time ago. More specifically, after the English renaissance during a time of noble pomp and poor squalor; children where hung or beheaded for certain offenses such as stealing handkerchiefs or stealing fruit. As time went by, these considerably inhumane rites were replaced by more humane but no less fearsome procedures and processes. The rough rope of the hangman's noose were replaced by Computer Science and the executioner's axe by Economics. 

Whosoever says they simply enjoy going through the process of an execution are merely putting on shows of bravado. Such acts were often performed by military men who desired to end in the most legendary way possible by smiling at the face of death or laughing before being pulled apart by horses. Indeed, such displays were exceptionally rousing especially for mere mortals such as I. However, they all met with the same an equal fate, the examination/execution. 

So there I was, in front of the examination hall awaiting my exams just three weeks ago. At present time, I've just received my scores. 

Before taking this examination, I knew first and foremost that I was a complete dolt. An intelligent dolt though. At the beginning of the year, I did very well receiving mostly A's and B's. I asked God for help every morning and begged him for mercy every time before a test. I normally placed around the top three to five in my classes. For history, I was the first place overall. Then I got cocky. Now, cockiness doesn't work out very well, especially when God is the recipient  of your cockiness, after all; He has a knack of putting dolts where they belong. 

My marks began a steep and unhappy decline. Its not my fault though, Youtube was as ensnaring as it was bewitching! Moreover to be fair, my housemate often asked me to wash insurmountable amounts of brown dishes sticky with all manner of yellow filth. Never did study much. After all, I was doing well. 

My averages fell. From being normally in the top three in my class, I fell to the average and sometimes below. In my college, an average score is the death warrant, calling for a slow and ugly death. An average was normally a failing mark, equivalent to having your heart dug out by a evil little girl wielding a small pink spoon. 

The biggest blow was when I received my economic mark. 42%

I quietly walked to my room and switched off the lights. I found the darkest spot in my room which was in my closest and just kneeled as low as I could possibly go. I put my face to the carpet and begged God for help and mercy. Especially for forgiveness for being such an arrogant teenager. A two weeks before executions began

So during the weeks nearing examinations, I begged God for his mercy and his help. I asked family and friends to pray for me. As well as his forgiveness for being such a rotting piece of dried breast meat in my house's fridge. I studied hard, asking God for his mercy each morning. 

God is faithful, help me he did. Though my scores may not seem like much, they are tremendous improvements. Today, after receiving my scores, and receiving some attention in the form of,"Wah... you ah joseph," or "not bad not bad." I couldn't help but to realize that it was because of God. I reread my papers and though the scores were passes and B's, they were such improvements couldn't help but to sit at my desk befuddled; realizing God was faithful, though I was not. 

My computer Science score was 65.5 % with the teacher writing "very good" next to the score. This test was incredibly difficult as acknowledged by the examiner and the teachers in charge of the computer department. Most students failed. The average overall was about 30-40 % or around there for that particular exam. 

My history was 78 %. Though I had slid from first place to third, I worship God as this was a good score. 78 % is an A grade. 

My economics was a  63 %. This was an incredible improvement as my last economics examination was only 43 %. 

My English and Australian Cultural Studies score was 76 %. Again, most had failed this exam. This was indeed a terribly difficult exam as most had gotten marks that were far below their earlier scores. My marks actually rose from a mere 50 % for my last test; to 76% which was the top of my class for that particular exam. God is amazing. 

I thank God for my semester 2 exams. I've come to realize over the past few weeks that whatever I achieve, I achieve for God and through God. As God has given me a sound mind to think, a heart to discern and two lungs to breathe, I cannot do anything without him. With my own hands, I cannot lift myself. Try lifting yourself with by pulling on your toes; its an impossible exercise. In God's hands however, I am lifted. Lifted by God's mercy. 

Now for round 2. 

Saturday, October 24, 2009

I Heart Fashion

 When I was young, my mother arranged for me to have an examination on fashion, which was not the strongest of my subjects. It all began when my family noticed the unhappy symptoms of fashion retardation, such as matching garish green with giggly pink and not wearing socks with my shoes.  For such eyesore and abrasive matters my parents could still endure. However, the final blow came when they found me sporting pridefully, an uber cool Ultra Man wallet which was the equivalent of committing fashion suicide by hanging myself with dental floss. 

I was ordered to sit for an Fashion Intelligence Determination Exam. Or FIDE for short. 

I studied for the test as hard as I possible so I could retain a place in society among the fashionably sane. I read up on Yves Saint Vuitton; garnishing my mind with the knowledge that YSL was a homosexual male who received much hazing in the French military for being artsy fartsy. Also, I researched a fair bit on the cut of jeans among other things. All of which was as fascinating to me as reading up on military hardware. Though I had indeed done the studying, I poignantly realised that fashion needed a certain amount of genius and flare, which I simply did not posses due to some freak genetic missalignment. 

I sat there in the exam room doubled as a dressing room in MNG Malaysia. Worriedly, I clutched the pencil with my cold and clammy hands and pinched open the leather embossed exam paper. 

I stared blankly at the questions. And tried to answer them of course.  

Q) A pair of skinny jeans would go well with which top? 
a)topless
b)Some odd top which has a frenchie sounding name
c)I dunno
d) T-Shirt. 
 
  A) c

Q) Examine and Discuss the artistic attributes of the Paris/Milan Haute Couture show of 2007 and its achievements. 

A) The Paris/Milan Haute Couture show was stylish and stuff cause it had clothes that were nice.

Q) Compare and contrast the impact of the Calvin Klein Jeans line with its UnderGarment line. 
A) They were from the same company but the undergarments had to go under the jeans and were therefore different in that extent. 

At about question 4 of 50, I proceeded to squirt blood through my eyeballs. Screaming, I tore across MNG's flagship store, chaotically spraying blood all over their white-themed Spring/Summer collection. 

Needless to say, I was yanked out of the examination by a rather stylishly dressed guard and posthumously labeled a complete and utter dunce of fashion. Also, in another category of fashion infamy, was labeled as the Malaysian to ever receive the lowest mark in FIDE. Only second to the fanatic masses who religiously frequent Sungei Wang and its blasphemous worship of sharply contrasting colors and lace. 

As such, Megan Fox flew down from Hollywood to personally award me a medal and a kiss on the cheek. Yay! 

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

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