enter caption here.

Rationally, I want to whack myself silly with my handheld clutch just cz it's right infront of me.

Dinner tonight with soddysappy is at 7.30 & I’ve already devoured x2 muffins, x2 chocolate twist & x1 spinach&ricotta roll (which sucked, I ate it anyway)
I hate to say it but my best friend is waiting for me this coming week.
Back to the grueling x2 hours of painstaking effort, that maximized regime I made.
Easy peasy, it’s like spreading peanut butter on my thighs

The problem is,
a. I do not sweat, not even a stipple, not even enough to fill up a vial.
b. I do not emanate heat like that carburetor parked in my basement.
c. I do not have a sky-scraping metabolism rate enabling me to devour my whole fridge in one sitting (I know that’s nasty –I’m nasty)
d. I do not have legs long enough for those lipids to disperse proportionally
e. I eat waaaaay to much? (out of the question)

Urgh, I am so full. How am I going to enjoy dinner? –ill think about that later
*devours another muffin while writing this (I only bought 4)

Free function flows like reservoir water, celebrating mj's 22nd bday.

The friends recently like to venture out for drinks (jau guais) teehee
–the sohos, the daiquiris, the martinis, the mojitos

We make a mockery of the peace sign.

This is my freerider theory working up on lesmond's account.

The whole week’s been eat, drink, eat, drink, eat, drink
–from buffet dinners, korean bbqs, jap cuisine, tonight jap fine dining & felafels (more&more felafels)
Who could resist those savoury delights?
I’m starting to miss my own home cooking –my tofus, my lovely tofus
Decisively, I told myself that not before remembering I have a potluck this weekend =/

I’ve been going out too much lately.
My assignments are missing my presence.
My pots&pans feel caged up in the cupboard.
My dishwasher feels unloved, unused.
The only thing being at work is my wonderous bed.
Oh bed, oh bed, It never fails to tuck me in on late nights. Shweetxx

My wisdom tooth finally decided to take our relationship to another level.
Apparently, I kept abusing it.

It loved it so much that now, it’s trying my techniques back on me.
Sadomasochist.

I have nothing but everything to write.

“You think this song is about you, don’t you, don’t you?”
Pffxx

one big question playing on my mind, can we catch STD through a communal toilet seat? (ill let you know) -bit later xx

Note* i do not have STD, i did not catch STD, i do not have any affiliation with any persons in contact with STD thank you.

xx