Hoorray! My chinese oral is over!!!!! Haha... My bio test is over too!!! Yay!!! I don't think I did very well in both of them, but they are already over and I don't care anyhow.
Anyway, something funny happened to me. I switched on the computer and I saw this Microsoft Word document titled ",. cgjk" saved on the desktop. I assumed that it was some crappy stuff done by my younger sister, so I went to delete it. But to be on the save side, I decided to open the document to make sure. As my computer was still kind of slow as it has not started up properly, when the document was first opened, all I saw was a blank word document. Pissed, I remarked to my cousin who was behind me. "Who is that stupid idiot wh..." Then, the computer finished loading the pictures and they appeared.
No, they were not porn pictures. Instead, I found myself staring at the pictures of the fried rice I cooked last year for the Home Economic test. It was then, I realized that the stupid idiot who saved this crappy stuff in the computer was me. How embarrassing... I shall never insults idiots who save rubbishy things in the computer before I know who exactly the idiot is.
Alright, I am done blogging now, bye!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
I hate school...
I hate my school, I hate my class, I hate my classmates and I hate the school for not closing down.
Four or five pupils in my school has gotten H1N1 and yet, we are still going to school. Life is hell for me right now. I spent more than $30 on books alone on Monday and Friday at Parkway, Borders, without telling my mother. On Friday, I was in great agony as I silently debated in my head whether to buy book 3 and 4 of the Anne of Green Gables series or to buy Inkdeath, the third book in the Inkheart trilogy (at least I think it is a trilogy). Inkdeath was on offer. It was priced at a mere $19.90 compared to the thirty plus dollars it was selling for at Popular and the offer ends on the 9th of July, which is this coming Thursday. I didn't really see whether the offer was only appiled for Borders' card holders, but I think the offer appiles to everyone. After spending a long, long time thinking, I finally bought book 3 and 4 of the Anne of Green Gables series. I shall try my luck at persuading my parents to go to Parkway this weekend. Maybe I can pester my father to buy Inkdeath for me.
And for the whole of last week, life was a mad rush for me. Every single day was spent trying to complete my holiday homework, trying to read as many library book as possible, and trying to hide my new books from my younger sister and mother. Being the wonderful, multi-tasker I am, I managed everything perfectly expect for the very last item on my list. I had carelessly left my new books on my table under my chinese work book, and Putty, being the usual, awful, peeping and prying snoper she was, had to poke around my table. She always does that, and I always tolerated her behaviour as previously, I had nothing to hide except perhaps for some Pocky sticks I had bought. So, when Putty discovered the books, she picked them up and waved them in front of my face and said somewhat self-rightously "I don't recall you buying these..." as though she expected me to fall at her feet crying and confessing everything about how I had aquired those books before burning everything because it was a sin to keep anything hidden from her. I took a look, and said calmly, "I borrowed them from Wei Qi. Why?" I don't know whether did she swallowed those lies or not, but she placed the books down after examining them closely as though she could see and identify my finger prints on them. Now, I shall have to go through the trouble of discarding the receipts carefully before either my mother or Putty finds out (yes, my mother actually dig out the receipts she finds in our rubbish bin and examine them). Perhaps I can burn or swallow them, but that's too much trouble.
I have blogged enough for today, so I shall stop here. Bye!
Four or five pupils in my school has gotten H1N1 and yet, we are still going to school. Life is hell for me right now. I spent more than $30 on books alone on Monday and Friday at Parkway, Borders, without telling my mother. On Friday, I was in great agony as I silently debated in my head whether to buy book 3 and 4 of the Anne of Green Gables series or to buy Inkdeath, the third book in the Inkheart trilogy (at least I think it is a trilogy). Inkdeath was on offer. It was priced at a mere $19.90 compared to the thirty plus dollars it was selling for at Popular and the offer ends on the 9th of July, which is this coming Thursday. I didn't really see whether the offer was only appiled for Borders' card holders, but I think the offer appiles to everyone. After spending a long, long time thinking, I finally bought book 3 and 4 of the Anne of Green Gables series. I shall try my luck at persuading my parents to go to Parkway this weekend. Maybe I can pester my father to buy Inkdeath for me.
And for the whole of last week, life was a mad rush for me. Every single day was spent trying to complete my holiday homework, trying to read as many library book as possible, and trying to hide my new books from my younger sister and mother. Being the wonderful, multi-tasker I am, I managed everything perfectly expect for the very last item on my list. I had carelessly left my new books on my table under my chinese work book, and Putty, being the usual, awful, peeping and prying snoper she was, had to poke around my table. She always does that, and I always tolerated her behaviour as previously, I had nothing to hide except perhaps for some Pocky sticks I had bought. So, when Putty discovered the books, she picked them up and waved them in front of my face and said somewhat self-rightously "I don't recall you buying these..." as though she expected me to fall at her feet crying and confessing everything about how I had aquired those books before burning everything because it was a sin to keep anything hidden from her. I took a look, and said calmly, "I borrowed them from Wei Qi. Why?" I don't know whether did she swallowed those lies or not, but she placed the books down after examining them closely as though she could see and identify my finger prints on them. Now, I shall have to go through the trouble of discarding the receipts carefully before either my mother or Putty finds out (yes, my mother actually dig out the receipts she finds in our rubbish bin and examine them). Perhaps I can burn or swallow them, but that's too much trouble.
I have blogged enough for today, so I shall stop here. Bye!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Drama Queen...
My younger sister is such a drama queen. As per normal, when I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, I found my younger sister's legs on my bed. Annoyed and pissed, I shoved them off, rolled over, and tried to fall asleep again. but unfortunately for me, Putty replaced her filthy feet on my bed. I shoved them off again. This repeated itself for a countless amount of time, and in the end, pissed off and sleep-depraved, I used my legs to kick her legs off. Again, this was repeated over and over and over again...
Finally, fed up and royally pissed, I moved my legs in a running movement directed at Putty's pesky legs and it was a great success. I managed to repel her legs but it was pretty tiring. Putty got mad then, and she sat up and glared at me. Unfortunately (for her), I was as blind as a bat without my glasses, so her death-glare was not very effective. As my blindness was coupled together with the darkness, I could only make out her face as a blob that is extremely blurred at the edges. We glared at each other (or rather she glared while I stared glassily into the distance) for what seems to be an eternity when she moved. Whole-heartedly sick and tired of gazing at nothing, I took this chance to tell her "Too bad, you moved. You lost the glaring match." in the snobbiest tone I could muster before going to the toilet after I had switched on the desk lamp in the room to irritated Putty. In the toilet, I promptly washed my hands and feet with Dettol as I felt unclean after touching Putty's feet. I went back into the room, switched off the lamp and went back to bed. After a short while, I got up again, switched on my desk lamp, went to the toilet (again) as my bladder was full. when I got back, I had switched off the lamp and was in my bed when Putty spoke "You just don't dare to look back at me." was her words. Calmly and talking to her as if I was addressing a two year old, I told her I wasn't so dumb and stupid to waste my time and energy on such trivial matters. Then, Putty said "If I took a knife, you would be dead!". But as I wasn't paying attention, I didn't hear what she said, so I retorted back " Took what? Took what? Do you think I care?" Putty then stormed out of the room and went to the kitchen. As she had left the door open, I got out of bed to close it. As I stood by the door, I briefly considered locking her out of the room, but being the nice person I am, I resisted the temptation to do so. When Putty came back, I was already warm and snug in my bed and she told me that she had always wanted to do this. All this while, my back was facing her, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, and I rolled over to see what the hell was she going on about.
It was then, I saw the fruit knife in her hand.
As Putty had switched on the main light of the room, the blade glittered menacingly under the bright light. Sadly, my first emotion was nothing but amusement. I swear that this is true. The fruit knife was so tiny. Then, the fear set in. It wasn't fear of death but fear that I would be in great pain as I died. I had entertained thoughts of death occasionally, but dying under the hand my annoying younger sister by a stab wound done with an insignificant fruit knife was definitely not on my list of "How I want to die". Knowing that Putty would never have the guts to really stab me, also pretty much made this nothing but a really dramatic performance staged by an attention seeker. Perhaps that was what made me irritated. I informed Putty in a cold voice how it doesn't matter to me whether does she kill me or not as sooner or later, I was still going to die anyway. It was then Putty brought the knife down...
... on to the mattress, creating a stab wound on my beloved teddy bear bedsheets and mattress. I admit that when she brought the knife down, I flinched, thinking that perhaps Putty had really gone off her rocker and was really going to kill me. When I realized she had mutilated my bed, I told her in a sing song voice that I was going to tell mum, then she would be the one that is dead. Pretty childish and immature I know, but it is nice to be a tattle-tale occasionally. When Putty had replaced the knife and was back in her bed, seeking solace in her mobile phone, I looked at the alarm clock and felt pissed off at being woken up before 5 a.m. in the morning just to watch her drama performance that was entirely wasted on me and told Putty so.
Later in the afternoon, Putty messaged me and apologised for "frightening" me. How degrading that term was and not to mention untrue (kind of, I wasn't really scared for 85% of the time). Hence I informed her that her apology was accepted but I was definitely not frightened. But still, perhaps I should invent an electrical fence to place all around my bed. The fence is like a plank of wood, only that it is plastic and at one side of the fence, it is lined with electrical wires designed to give anyone who touches it a shock that is strong enough to hurt, but not enough to kill. The side of the fence that does not have electrical wires will be the side that is facing you, hence you won't get electrocuted as plastic is not able to conduct electricity. I am sure it would be a best seller.
It's getting late so I shall stop blogging now. Bye...
Finally, fed up and royally pissed, I moved my legs in a running movement directed at Putty's pesky legs and it was a great success. I managed to repel her legs but it was pretty tiring. Putty got mad then, and she sat up and glared at me. Unfortunately (for her), I was as blind as a bat without my glasses, so her death-glare was not very effective. As my blindness was coupled together with the darkness, I could only make out her face as a blob that is extremely blurred at the edges. We glared at each other (or rather she glared while I stared glassily into the distance) for what seems to be an eternity when she moved. Whole-heartedly sick and tired of gazing at nothing, I took this chance to tell her "Too bad, you moved. You lost the glaring match." in the snobbiest tone I could muster before going to the toilet after I had switched on the desk lamp in the room to irritated Putty. In the toilet, I promptly washed my hands and feet with Dettol as I felt unclean after touching Putty's feet. I went back into the room, switched off the lamp and went back to bed. After a short while, I got up again, switched on my desk lamp, went to the toilet (again) as my bladder was full. when I got back, I had switched off the lamp and was in my bed when Putty spoke "You just don't dare to look back at me." was her words. Calmly and talking to her as if I was addressing a two year old, I told her I wasn't so dumb and stupid to waste my time and energy on such trivial matters. Then, Putty said "If I took a knife, you would be dead!". But as I wasn't paying attention, I didn't hear what she said, so I retorted back " Took what? Took what? Do you think I care?" Putty then stormed out of the room and went to the kitchen. As she had left the door open, I got out of bed to close it. As I stood by the door, I briefly considered locking her out of the room, but being the nice person I am, I resisted the temptation to do so. When Putty came back, I was already warm and snug in my bed and she told me that she had always wanted to do this. All this while, my back was facing her, but as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, and I rolled over to see what the hell was she going on about.
It was then, I saw the fruit knife in her hand.
As Putty had switched on the main light of the room, the blade glittered menacingly under the bright light. Sadly, my first emotion was nothing but amusement. I swear that this is true. The fruit knife was so tiny. Then, the fear set in. It wasn't fear of death but fear that I would be in great pain as I died. I had entertained thoughts of death occasionally, but dying under the hand my annoying younger sister by a stab wound done with an insignificant fruit knife was definitely not on my list of "How I want to die". Knowing that Putty would never have the guts to really stab me, also pretty much made this nothing but a really dramatic performance staged by an attention seeker. Perhaps that was what made me irritated. I informed Putty in a cold voice how it doesn't matter to me whether does she kill me or not as sooner or later, I was still going to die anyway. It was then Putty brought the knife down...
... on to the mattress, creating a stab wound on my beloved teddy bear bedsheets and mattress. I admit that when she brought the knife down, I flinched, thinking that perhaps Putty had really gone off her rocker and was really going to kill me. When I realized she had mutilated my bed, I told her in a sing song voice that I was going to tell mum, then she would be the one that is dead. Pretty childish and immature I know, but it is nice to be a tattle-tale occasionally. When Putty had replaced the knife and was back in her bed, seeking solace in her mobile phone, I looked at the alarm clock and felt pissed off at being woken up before 5 a.m. in the morning just to watch her drama performance that was entirely wasted on me and told Putty so.
Later in the afternoon, Putty messaged me and apologised for "frightening" me. How degrading that term was and not to mention untrue (kind of, I wasn't really scared for 85% of the time). Hence I informed her that her apology was accepted but I was definitely not frightened. But still, perhaps I should invent an electrical fence to place all around my bed. The fence is like a plank of wood, only that it is plastic and at one side of the fence, it is lined with electrical wires designed to give anyone who touches it a shock that is strong enough to hurt, but not enough to kill. The side of the fence that does not have electrical wires will be the side that is facing you, hence you won't get electrocuted as plastic is not able to conduct electricity. I am sure it would be a best seller.
It's getting late so I shall stop blogging now. Bye...
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Failure...
For the first time in my entire life, I was not at least in the top fifteen of the class. Heck! I didn't even make it to the top twenty let alone thirty...
For the first time in my life, I didn't get a single A1 or A2 and not to mention, it's the first time my level position has reached the hundreds and fifties... I really really HATE my class. The people in my class are the type which study for fun and devour textbooks whole for lunch. They are the kind of people who probably can afford to play computer games the night before an exam, and still achieve an A1. Why? Why? Why couldn't God have bestowed upon me a better brain with more brain cells? Why can't I get into the mood to study one month before the exams? Why do I have to daydream whenever I am studying? I swear, that out of an hour I am "studying", at least half an hour is wasted on building castles in the air. Really, it's true, I'm not exaggerating. I always study the night before exams, and it has always worked for me. Till now. I feel like screaming and tearing out my hair my the roots, but that is just going to add on to my hair-loss problem. See? Ever since secondary 2 I have been so stressed till I have been losing hair. When I got to sec 3, and when the mid-year exams were around the corner, I lost more hair. Its a wonder that I am not bald by now.
Alright, enough of my hair-loss problem. Let's talk about a person whom I shall call Mr. X in this blog post. First of all, I HATE YOU MR. X!!!!! It's all because of you that my parents are so pissed at me. Why do you have to tell them that more than half of the cohort got an A1 for math? May I remind you that out of those people, 99.9% have tuition whereas I do not. And for your information, my class is not average!!! How can a class, whose top pupil rank fourth in level be average? Now, my parents are left with the impression that I rank 37/42 in an average class. And let me tell you, three of my scores are almost A2s. They are 69.1, 69.3, and 69.6 respectively. All of them needs less than one mark to become an A, so you can just keep your big, fat mouth shut. Oh yeah, I should tell you something, you should take care of the skin on your face more. Currently, it looks a whole lot like the moon. Full of craters and all if you get my drift. I can't imagine how you can even have a girlfriend.
All right, I am done ranting for now, hence I shall stop blogging and waste my time on other areas which I feel are more meaningful.
For the first time in my life, I didn't get a single A1 or A2 and not to mention, it's the first time my level position has reached the hundreds and fifties... I really really HATE my class. The people in my class are the type which study for fun and devour textbooks whole for lunch. They are the kind of people who probably can afford to play computer games the night before an exam, and still achieve an A1. Why? Why? Why couldn't God have bestowed upon me a better brain with more brain cells? Why can't I get into the mood to study one month before the exams? Why do I have to daydream whenever I am studying? I swear, that out of an hour I am "studying", at least half an hour is wasted on building castles in the air. Really, it's true, I'm not exaggerating. I always study the night before exams, and it has always worked for me. Till now. I feel like screaming and tearing out my hair my the roots, but that is just going to add on to my hair-loss problem. See? Ever since secondary 2 I have been so stressed till I have been losing hair. When I got to sec 3, and when the mid-year exams were around the corner, I lost more hair. Its a wonder that I am not bald by now.
Alright, enough of my hair-loss problem. Let's talk about a person whom I shall call Mr. X in this blog post. First of all, I HATE YOU MR. X!!!!! It's all because of you that my parents are so pissed at me. Why do you have to tell them that more than half of the cohort got an A1 for math? May I remind you that out of those people, 99.9% have tuition whereas I do not. And for your information, my class is not average!!! How can a class, whose top pupil rank fourth in level be average? Now, my parents are left with the impression that I rank 37/42 in an average class. And let me tell you, three of my scores are almost A2s. They are 69.1, 69.3, and 69.6 respectively. All of them needs less than one mark to become an A, so you can just keep your big, fat mouth shut. Oh yeah, I should tell you something, you should take care of the skin on your face more. Currently, it looks a whole lot like the moon. Full of craters and all if you get my drift. I can't imagine how you can even have a girlfriend.
All right, I am done ranting for now, hence I shall stop blogging and waste my time on other areas which I feel are more meaningful.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Ewwww...
Gross! Gross! Gross!!! Ewwwww... I had washed my feet two times with Dettol and I still feel that my left foot is unclean. I shall now relate my tale, which had freaked me out greatly, to you...
I was using the computer, and after playing Pet Society in Facebook, I had decided not to go blogging as there was nothing interesting to blog about. As I had a sore throat, I went to the kitchen to refill my water bottle as the water level was dangerously low. So, like the many previous trips, I went to the kitchen and refilled my bottle without incident. As I was stepping out of the kitchen (I recall I was half in and half out of the door way), I brought my left foot down on something...
Something that went...
"CRACK..."
I froze immediately, and fearing for the worse (I thought I had stepped on a cockroach. There is nothing else that scares me more than cockroaches except for the Dark, ghosts that probably only exist in my imagination and so on and so forth...), I lifted up my foot and steeled myself to look down.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
I released a loud and somewhat hoarse shriek (due to my sore throat) when I realized what I had stepped on. An unmoving baby lizard was on the floor, by the doorway of the kitchen. I was pretty sure I had squashed the unfortunate lizard flat on the marble floor by stomping on it unintentionally with my big feet, but as the lighting was dim, I could not see properly and was not really sure about that. Hence, I remained rooted to the spot, and like the dummy I was, I was squawking out loudly "Gross,gross, gross!!!" over and over again like a spoilt tape recorder. Then, to my astonishment, the lizard crawled away. My sisters went out of their rooms to see what was the commotion about, and when they found out, they started laughing like crazy. My younger sister, Putty (that's her nickname, don't ask me why), went to pry my father out of his room where he was watching telly to make him catch the lizard. My father was very amused and when he tried to catch the lizard, it almost ran into the room of my elder sister. I was so freaked out that I screamed. Very loudly. For some weird reason, I thought that the lizard was going to run towards me.
When my father caught the lizard, I wanted to ask him was the lizard strange looking in any way such as whether did it had an oddly-shaped head or was it kind of flat-looking compared to other lizards. However, ignorance is bliss, and I decided that I didn't really want to know and frankly, I don't really care about whether did I disfigure the lizard for life or something. I went to the toilet and washed my feet two times with anti-bacteria wash before returning to the computer. I shall be traumatized for life now. Why do all the experiences that freaks me out got to do with lizards? There was once when I was in primary1 or 2, the boys threw a half rotten lizard on to my seat. I got so scared till I cried (just a few tears leaked out, I didn't start to bawl loudly). I am glad to say that at the sight of my tears, the boys got so panicky and frightened, so they immediately cleared the lizard away. They even cleaned my chair. How nice of them one may say, but if they weren't so playful and started to play with decomposing lizards, none of that would have happened.
In all, my sore throat is worse, my sisters are sniggering at me, and I am labelled as a girly-girl by my family due to my shrieking. Not exactly a good day for me I suppose. And now, my computer time is up, so I shall stop blogging now.
I was using the computer, and after playing Pet Society in Facebook, I had decided not to go blogging as there was nothing interesting to blog about. As I had a sore throat, I went to the kitchen to refill my water bottle as the water level was dangerously low. So, like the many previous trips, I went to the kitchen and refilled my bottle without incident. As I was stepping out of the kitchen (I recall I was half in and half out of the door way), I brought my left foot down on something...
Something that went...
"CRACK..."
I froze immediately, and fearing for the worse (I thought I had stepped on a cockroach. There is nothing else that scares me more than cockroaches except for the Dark, ghosts that probably only exist in my imagination and so on and so forth...), I lifted up my foot and steeled myself to look down.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
I released a loud and somewhat hoarse shriek (due to my sore throat) when I realized what I had stepped on. An unmoving baby lizard was on the floor, by the doorway of the kitchen. I was pretty sure I had squashed the unfortunate lizard flat on the marble floor by stomping on it unintentionally with my big feet, but as the lighting was dim, I could not see properly and was not really sure about that. Hence, I remained rooted to the spot, and like the dummy I was, I was squawking out loudly "Gross,gross, gross!!!" over and over again like a spoilt tape recorder. Then, to my astonishment, the lizard crawled away. My sisters went out of their rooms to see what was the commotion about, and when they found out, they started laughing like crazy. My younger sister, Putty (that's her nickname, don't ask me why), went to pry my father out of his room where he was watching telly to make him catch the lizard. My father was very amused and when he tried to catch the lizard, it almost ran into the room of my elder sister. I was so freaked out that I screamed. Very loudly. For some weird reason, I thought that the lizard was going to run towards me.
When my father caught the lizard, I wanted to ask him was the lizard strange looking in any way such as whether did it had an oddly-shaped head or was it kind of flat-looking compared to other lizards. However, ignorance is bliss, and I decided that I didn't really want to know and frankly, I don't really care about whether did I disfigure the lizard for life or something. I went to the toilet and washed my feet two times with anti-bacteria wash before returning to the computer. I shall be traumatized for life now. Why do all the experiences that freaks me out got to do with lizards? There was once when I was in primary1 or 2, the boys threw a half rotten lizard on to my seat. I got so scared till I cried (just a few tears leaked out, I didn't start to bawl loudly). I am glad to say that at the sight of my tears, the boys got so panicky and frightened, so they immediately cleared the lizard away. They even cleaned my chair. How nice of them one may say, but if they weren't so playful and started to play with decomposing lizards, none of that would have happened.
In all, my sore throat is worse, my sisters are sniggering at me, and I am labelled as a girly-girl by my family due to my shrieking. Not exactly a good day for me I suppose. And now, my computer time is up, so I shall stop blogging now.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Exams are over!!!!
Hooray! The exams are finally over!!! No more studying and less stress for me now!!! Yipee! I can now read all the books I want, watch all the movies that interest me and play computer games without feeling guilty!!! Haha... Feeling extremely happy today. I would be even happier if the bio paper today wasn't so hard. I died at the MCQs... But still, it's over and I can't do a thing about it anymore. So, I shall forget everything that have got to do with exams, and concentrate on relaxing instead... I anticipate, yet dread next week, because I will get to find out how well or badly I have done for my exams. I shall not expect too much because I didn't really work hard. I mean I did work hard, but I could do better. Ah well... But I am pretty certain that I did not do too badly. At most I shall fail physics and A math but I was already weak in them in the first place.
My cousin, Chang Fang, just supplied me with maybe twenty-nine or thirty books. I can't wait to sink my teeth into them. But they are kind of stinky and old. No, I do not mind old books, but I am scared that while reading, I may find some sort of "surprise" in them (silver fish, bits of food, unknown pieces of odd looking stuff etc.). As I like to read books lying on my bed, I shudder to think of those free gifts landing on my pillow or coming into contact with my hands. However, the few books that I had already read are relatively surprise-free, so I shall hope that the same goes for the rest. Another bad thing about old books are that it is just too hard to find their sequel. For instance, I had read an extremely good book that I liked, but then it was in a series and I was only in possession of the first book. Thinking that perhaps I could go buy the sequels, I flipped to the front of the book and realized that the book was published in around 1989. Grrrrr.... So the chances of me being able to find the sequels are like next to nothing. Heck, it is almost impossible for me to find a book published in 2003 (or 2004, I can't remember). Perhaps I can buy it online on sites like eBay, but I am not sure it is a good idea. For one thing, the prices are always inflated, and for another thing, I do not have a credit card. Hence, I can stop daydreaming about reading Demon Witch, sequel to Hellhole, in the Sorcerers of the Nightwing series. Oh, and I checked my book. It was first published in 2002, but the edition I have was published in 2003. Actually, I have found the second book in my school library, but it was in chinese, so naturally, I did not read it. But later on, I regretted it and went back into the library to borrow the book and guess what? I could not find the book. I have went to the library multiple times and I still have not found the book till today. The search is still ongoing but I shall give it up I think. It's not as if I will enjoy the book thoroughly when it is written in chinese. Yeah, I know it's my mother tongue and I take Higher Chinese too, but in my opinion, those are pretty feeble excuses for me to love chinese.
I have decided that this blog entry is long enough, hence I shall stop here. I have still not gotten the hang of ending my blog posts properly, so I shall just say a good bye and end here.
My cousin, Chang Fang, just supplied me with maybe twenty-nine or thirty books. I can't wait to sink my teeth into them. But they are kind of stinky and old. No, I do not mind old books, but I am scared that while reading, I may find some sort of "surprise" in them (silver fish, bits of food, unknown pieces of odd looking stuff etc.). As I like to read books lying on my bed, I shudder to think of those free gifts landing on my pillow or coming into contact with my hands. However, the few books that I had already read are relatively surprise-free, so I shall hope that the same goes for the rest. Another bad thing about old books are that it is just too hard to find their sequel. For instance, I had read an extremely good book that I liked, but then it was in a series and I was only in possession of the first book. Thinking that perhaps I could go buy the sequels, I flipped to the front of the book and realized that the book was published in around 1989. Grrrrr.... So the chances of me being able to find the sequels are like next to nothing. Heck, it is almost impossible for me to find a book published in 2003 (or 2004, I can't remember). Perhaps I can buy it online on sites like eBay, but I am not sure it is a good idea. For one thing, the prices are always inflated, and for another thing, I do not have a credit card. Hence, I can stop daydreaming about reading Demon Witch, sequel to Hellhole, in the Sorcerers of the Nightwing series. Oh, and I checked my book. It was first published in 2002, but the edition I have was published in 2003. Actually, I have found the second book in my school library, but it was in chinese, so naturally, I did not read it. But later on, I regretted it and went back into the library to borrow the book and guess what? I could not find the book. I have went to the library multiple times and I still have not found the book till today. The search is still ongoing but I shall give it up I think. It's not as if I will enjoy the book thoroughly when it is written in chinese. Yeah, I know it's my mother tongue and I take Higher Chinese too, but in my opinion, those are pretty feeble excuses for me to love chinese.
I have decided that this blog entry is long enough, hence I shall stop here. I have still not gotten the hang of ending my blog posts properly, so I shall just say a good bye and end here.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
DIE!!!!!
To whoever who has my mobile phone, let me warn you that the possession of others' belongings without their consent is constituted as THEFT!!!!! And if you dare delete any of my songs, you are so dead... In fact, you are already on my list of who to kill... And how nice! You happen to be the first! Aren't you honored? I shall kindly tell you what is in store for you.
First, I have given you a first class ticket to Hell. Oh no, you don't have to thank me, it comes with the package I am offering to you. Second, you can burn off your fats in the eternal flames of Hell. In fact, let me turn you around on the spit. Don't you enjoy the heat? Anyway, you don't have to be grateful, it is my pleasure to roast you like a suckling pig. Third, I shall gorge out your eyes, so that there will be no chance of you getting cataracts when you are old. Isn't it kind of me? And now, for the grand finale... Stick out your tongue... No, I'm not going to cut it of. What do you take me for? I am deeply insulted... Yes, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, thinking that such a kind sweet girl like me would do such a thing. Good... Good... Now I shall pull your tongue so hard till you turn inside out. Isn't it fun? Huh? Stop making weird sounds, I can't understand you. Don't you know that it is impossible for one to speaking when you are holding your tongue? Even though it is me doing the holding, or rather pulling, the rule still applies. Oh! Look! I'm all done. I have to say, you look much better than before now that you are inside out. Hey, say something will you? You should at least thank me for the wonderful make-over I gave you. Yoo hoo... You deaf or something? If you don't reply me soon, I shall kick you in the ass... You think I don't dare to do it? You think I am kidding? Well, let's see how well will you response to this.
OW! OW! My foot! My poor foot... You nasty creature! Dying on me like that! You have not even returned me my phone! Give. It. Back. Grrrr... I shall dismember you body and see how well you like that. I shall scoop out your entrails and leave it out for the scavengers! This is what happens when you found my phone, rejected all my calls and probably sold it to some second-hand shop. Noooooo... My beloved Nokia E66!!! Come back to me!!!
First, I have given you a first class ticket to Hell. Oh no, you don't have to thank me, it comes with the package I am offering to you. Second, you can burn off your fats in the eternal flames of Hell. In fact, let me turn you around on the spit. Don't you enjoy the heat? Anyway, you don't have to be grateful, it is my pleasure to roast you like a suckling pig. Third, I shall gorge out your eyes, so that there will be no chance of you getting cataracts when you are old. Isn't it kind of me? And now, for the grand finale... Stick out your tongue... No, I'm not going to cut it of. What do you take me for? I am deeply insulted... Yes, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, thinking that such a kind sweet girl like me would do such a thing. Good... Good... Now I shall pull your tongue so hard till you turn inside out. Isn't it fun? Huh? Stop making weird sounds, I can't understand you. Don't you know that it is impossible for one to speaking when you are holding your tongue? Even though it is me doing the holding, or rather pulling, the rule still applies. Oh! Look! I'm all done. I have to say, you look much better than before now that you are inside out. Hey, say something will you? You should at least thank me for the wonderful make-over I gave you. Yoo hoo... You deaf or something? If you don't reply me soon, I shall kick you in the ass... You think I don't dare to do it? You think I am kidding? Well, let's see how well will you response to this.
OW! OW! My foot! My poor foot... You nasty creature! Dying on me like that! You have not even returned me my phone! Give. It. Back. Grrrr... I shall dismember you body and see how well you like that. I shall scoop out your entrails and leave it out for the scavengers! This is what happens when you found my phone, rejected all my calls and probably sold it to some second-hand shop. Noooooo... My beloved Nokia E66!!! Come back to me!!!
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