resolutions...

Comes the time of year when people start making lists of incredulously stupid and senseless things that they want done by, or throughout, the following year. Oh, great indeed is the lure to make resolutions to make ourselves better people, and a most commendable thing indeed, to resolve to do things that are nigh impossible to achieve. Kind of like having a non-gatal Asy. Or a sexy Jin.

In the spirit of the festivities, I will now proceed to jot down my own list of unnecessary (in that I'm already perfect. Aha!) accessories to my already complicated life for the first time. Yes, the first time.

~Sculpt. As in, myself.

~Talk less. As in, all the time.

~Walk more, drive less.

~Eat less, drink less.

~Write more, cook more, bake more.

~Be more attentive, be less assertive.

~Become deadly mysterious.

~Keep my warranty valid.

~Spend only half of what I get.

~Look good naked, but stay single.

~Be deadly efficient.

~Stop making lists like this.

Meh.

can you spell tragic?

And then, you can say selfish, insufferable, ingrate, worthless, pathetic, and mush. Then apply them liberally to me.

Of course, you can add more, if you can think of any.

Me, I'm just horrendously horrified at myself.

christmas...

Yup. I was right. It's not the same anymore. Christmas this year is much like every other year. Except, watered down. Kinda like drinking watery beer. Except I don't like beer.

I suppose, I can't complain. It certainly has been better, but it's likely that the years have caught up. Eventually, it will all look funny in retrospect.

Merry Christmas to all. Have fun, and don't drive while intoxicated.

christmas eve...

You'd think on the eve of my 18th Christmas, I'd be out partying like an insane gadoodle. Apparently, I'm not. Not that I wasn't invited, mind you, but more like a series of miscommunications. Oh well.

Time to reflect on what I've learnt since LAST Christmas.

~I've learnt what recipocrated love is like.

~I realised that a parent of a graduate and his or her money is soon parted.

~I used to look like a retarded pumpkin in glasses. And now, according to Dad, I look like some anime character. Weirdness.

~I know what it's like to break someone's heart, and how to have your heart broken.

~Intelligence is a double edged sword.

~I figured that I'm an early/late bloomer. Meaning that I sprout quick, fall into a dormant state for a long time, then burst forth with both guns blazing.

~My jokes never seem like jokes, because I don't laugh to them.

~Christmas just isn't what it used to be.

~All that jazz about wanting world peace and stuff, a.k.a. Miss World speech material, is really only just talk.

~The older you get, the more presents you buy, and the less you receive.

~It never snows here. Except in the freezer, where you DON'T want frost.

~Chocolate is probably still better than sex.

~Saint Nick should NOT be as old as he appears, seeing as to his level of obesity. He'd probably have died of a stroke on one of his time-defying trips.

~I have really no idea what I want anymore.

Merry Christmas.

'tis the season...

In the past 15+ years, every Christmas, I'd be most sure of what I wanted for Christmas. Notice, it wasn't the past 18 years, cuz before that, I didn't even understand the concept (this is for you particularly dense people).

The strange this year is that when I was asked what I wanted, I realised, for once, it wasn't a material thing. It isn't a laptop, or a camera accesories, or electronics, or even chocolate cake. Nope, nothing material.

It isn't peace, love, forgiveness, sex. Nothing on a, erm, non-material, plane of existence. Nor do I have someone special to even attempt to extract that particular last one from.

It isn't even something that anyone would likely wish on themselves on such an occasion. Nor is it something that anyone could give me. Or even get it for themselves, though I dare say the option of getting it would be most valuable to EVERYONE. Come to think of it, it isn't even a thing, it's more like a lack of.

Of course, in this case, I shouldn't even bother trying to get it. So let me now focus on what I MIGHT possibly receive this year. If you want to get me something special this year (of course you do), here's a short list of things I will find useful, and most certainly be absolutely happy to receive:

~A laptop. Any Centrino chip 1.6 MHz and above, with a minimum of 512 RAM, and a 64MB dedicated memory graphics processor, built-in Bluetooth and WiFi, with a DVD burner, and minimum of 6 USB ports. Preferably with a 15.1 inch monitor and above. I have a big lap. All other configs are optional.

~A strobe flash. Specifically, a Nikon SB-800. With extra battery pack.

~A new phone. I don't know specifics for this, but anything with market value above 1k is probably right.

I'd add more, like a black CLK and a 7 story mansion, but I'd stick with feasible stuff. And since it's the season of giving, I thought I'd give you a chance to breathe before my next barrage of insane requests.

The likelihood of me receiving any of those are almost nil, and it's probably because of my gender. Ah, damn this excessive packaging. It's proven VERY useful so far, hasn't it (rolling eyes)?

Speaking of eyes, it seems that my eye power has swapped left with right. Damn weird. The new frames I'm getting done kinda make me look like some anime character, at least according to what my dad says. Weirdness.

Ho ho ho.

And no, Pri. These are NOT man-tits.

pathetic...

I absolutely cannot believe that I'm this pathetic. I've been sitting at home for the past 6 hours doing nothing worthy of mention.

It's absolutely befuddling that anyone could be reduced to such slobberish lack-of-witness when left alone, with nothing specific to do. I think, if I can recall correctly, I was going through a series of games, and then blogs, and then anime, and then a whole lot of piano, and was, and still am, bored out of my mind. Where all that furious mental processes went, I have no idea.

This is me before the holidays: "I'm going to take a one year sabbatical, doing absolutely NOTHING! Haha! Can run about doing absolutely anything and nothing I want!"

This is me now: *whimper

Ergh. This insane boredom is, erm, boring!

I have been to an exclusive preview of The Star's new face. And got a free tee at that too! Hahaha. This is absolutely amusing me to the utmostnest. I am so amused I almost forgot for one second how horrendously ugly I look in most, if not all, clothes. Of course, a second is infinity on the brink of death, and nothing on the scope of creation. And on the scope of boredom, borderless expanse of mass and anti-matter. Wow. The sheer weight of such nothingness has caused me to spout delirious quantum physics jargon, which don't make sense even in context. Mwahahahahaha.

These constant questions of what I've been doing, how I've been doing, what am I going to do, from random people of random or no connection; it's all only helping to drive home the point that I don't know anything! Of course, I can't possibly drive in this state, nor should I want to be home. And to mention state, while this is supposedly the most developed shit hole of the national collection of hellholes, it still pretty much is riddled with potholes! And potholes are funny words, because although they are very much holes, as in, lack of road, they have nothing to do with pots. Pots as in pottery, the drug, or potions some lazy to type moronic gamers out there. To speak of games, I seriously need to find a new one to play. In the past 2 weeks, I've done 4 new releases. It's stupendously insanely absolutely mindfuckingly boring.

Anyone who would like to tell me to do what most bored guys do, a.k.a. masturbating, should probably skip it. Believe me, there's only so many times you can run that engine a day. Too much, and it's likely to break, and that would NOT be a pretty sight. Incidentally, I read a story about this guy whose life was ruined by wanking. The dumbfuck was pulling his meat next to a radiator and grabbed an oil soaked towel to clean up his mess, which caused the towel, and the flesh within, to catch fire. Pretty amusing, if not sadistically sick.

If I could trade height for looks, I'd give about 4 inches away. Since looks can be improved on, and in most cases, bought, I'd say that height would be a bit more valuable. Then I'd be the perfect combination of looks, brains, and brawn! Mwahahahaa! Of course, I'm flattering myself.

I need more toys to play with. Like boys' toys. Namely, electronics. Kinky or not, that's what most guys want. Except for a PARTICULAR few friends of mine who'd prefer sex over toys anyday, but then I keep telling them that they're probably missing out something great. Of course, I digress.

I need to go shopping for my going away goodies soon. Laptop, clothes, stuffs. All of them I need. However, seeing how much I already spent, I'd say I'll probably be going there with a note pad (as in sheets of paper) and a pencil, my underwear (which wouldn't be so bad if only I was better looking), and some straw. If you don't get the last one, you cannot possibly be more bored than me.

The piano has only so much lure. As does the computer. For a person of such a short attention span, it would seem quite impossible to do anything productive. And you'd be right. I should have gone for a walk, but I'm lazy. And fat. And as current evidence suggests, stupid. In all blatantly obviousness, I probably should have written some kinkiness. Should have.

Meh.

lost...

Sometimes, we all are.