Well… what do you know! It’s 3days since school re-opened. Had a swell english lesson today… boy, Ms. Leong can sure kick ass!Apart from what the others had said about her, I think she’s pretty cool. Right now, I feel like a wretched octopus.


Because Im typing this junk, reading the newspaper, drinking orange juice, watching the telly, texting my mom and well… that’s all. A six-tentacled octopus or so you may call it. Oh, i just remembered. That g/damned squash poster which I’ve left until the VERY last minute? Yeah, Im done with it… after an excruciating 4 and a half hours! And I liked the outcome! =P Was somewhat afraid that I won’t… here it is:

If you are observant enough, you would realise that the poster background is the Squash court itself

Anyway, the school was in a wild goose chase like I mentioned yesterday… geese in turquoise feathers and white canvas shoes were flocking from booth to booth. Yeah, Im one of the geese too. Manning the clubs’ booth was rather enlightening for i had a simple (but highly complicated in the girls’ society) chat with some of the Form 2’s. It seems that there has been a HUGE misunderstanding between two very large cliques and now, they are both at each others’ throats battling for the glory in the human food chain. Drastic.. lest I say. The mastermind behind it?  Two spiteful little girls (one for each clique) who began their female war last year. Somehow, they have managed to come up with an army of one-tracked minded girls within a year. So guess who’s back in 2006. Not very nice is it? Anyway, it’s their problem… I just find it thoroughly interesting! *winx*

We were assigned to write an easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy very short essay.The imperatively suggested length of this garbage was to be just a page long. The exercise book page! Not the test pad ones! *groans* Do note that I do not have very microscopic handwriting. Like it or not, we just got to have it done by the end of the lesson. Gawd has she gone bonkers?!?? Surprisingly, everyone handed it up on time…. wow. Before I continue with this, let me emphasize that I hate teachers who speak english with the Malay accent. That I hate boring speeches and unqualified speakers.And I especially hate to so utterly dislike sitting in the hall with no specific civilised thing to do whatsoever. That irks me real deep in the bones. That was why I almost chewed off my nails during the ‘Taklimat SPM’ today. *grr*

surfing through Friendster now and OHMAGOODNESS WHAT IN THE NAME OF MY BEDRIDDEN CAT IS THAT VERY DISTURBING SIGHT? What puts me off is little innocent girls signing up for self-centered friendster clubs who revolve around absolutely nothing but themselves such as ‘Kawaii Club’ ‘Lenglui company’ and the like. Guess what?. The owner goes around supplying testimonials which grades the members of how they look. And if they look like a pitiful moron, they are asked to upload more cute poses of themselves. (of which i refer to as cold, hard, shiny plastic) Here they go again, with their finger on their lips and ‘peace’ fingers to their cheeks… often coupled with one eye shut and their wagging long tongues sticking out. There you have it. a complete set of a lala girl. No alacarte’s. Want more?

I guess not.

Currently, Im still not finished with Julia. Only waiting for the part where Jun proposed to her. aww… that’s sweet. She’s head over heels about him. I’ve still got ‘The Pearl’ left, however. Christmas tree didn’t come in today… I wouldn’t hope so either. For the first time in high school, I wasn’t alleged for dyed hair.. with her, being the obvious culprit. Just the other day during her first lesson, she shot scowls at me. And  I wondered why.. soon, when she began to be boldly on my last nerve, I seemed to quite understand; I got her hint and pinned up my fringe. Im not dense, you dimwit… I do know the school rules but I just stubbornly refuse to adhere to it. Period.

Ran over to 7-11 just now to get my hands on the latest Galaxie- The Poster Issue. After reading, I was disappointed. The posters can go suck George Bush’s toes. Or, the editor for that matter. As for me, I’d take these wonderfully waxed pages and stuff it up her sweet and sour arse.

Just don’t use my toilet bowl. It’s a high voltaged ceramic that might trigger Micheal Jackson’s hormones.