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Pitbull vs. Hot Chip - Shake It Over and Over (Diplo Mix) |
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^ isn't it a beaut. i loves my new acquisition. along with my ever-present heart necklace it is now one of the stalwarts in my accessories box. i went a-trawling the rapunsale at loof and got that alex & chloe necklace as well as a vintage tee for fawn that sed "swiss miss" because well.. that's what she will be in two weeks. 4 fawn-less years loom.
and so, fawn the switzerland-bound PSC scholar studying hospitality PSYCHOLOGY threw a little farewell gathering at her soon-to-be home in the Astor showflat/condo for us the fiends and a bunch of her very very normal vj friends. they outnumbered us so they claimed all the appendages that legitimately deserved the name 'seats' whilst we colonized the little foam-floored playground. as jerrine and i stood by the salad table we were half-heartedly observing the sounds of fawn's vj friends talking and i noted, "those are the tones of a typical teenage conversation." you know, the slightly rumbly self-consciously masculine voices of the males, the high-pitched staccato of the girls.
suddenly over that convo we heard the "chk-chk" reloading-of-gun-type noises from where lom and yipeng were sitting.
lom: oh ya i was recounting transformers again.
poor yipeng who came along for the food ended up manning the bbq pit again just like he did at my place. it all felt quite primitive, having a man grill slabs of meat and chicken flesh over a fire he stoked himself, and then all us sitting down on the ground all communal-like and attacking the grub with bare hands. conversation too was appropriately crude.
yipeng: *takes some longan and almond jelly*
lom: give me your longans.
me: rachel. you like his longans? >:D
lom: yeah i like licking his longans. >:D
yipeng: i have a friend who tried to see if he could switch his balls around in the sac. apparently cannot, because it was quite painful.
fear the fury of the forest fawn
#1
jerrine: fawn can i have more prawns?
fawn: must bow first.
fawn: mah bow. mah bow tan. mah bow, tan!
lom: ...this is a PSC scholar.
#2
lom: i wonder what she will do if i suddenly sms her and say "i miss you! let's go out!"
fawn: maybe she will get constipation. because last time when sam stopped being her friend for awhile she got diarrhoea.
fawn's logic, it pwnz.
the other day, a facebook fortune cookie informed me: "you will lose something and find it again." well, what i lost turned out to be my belief in my friends. i was mourning about not being invited along to krabi with jerrine, rachel and sam, and i was shamefully brusque with christine over msn one night when i was still sore about it. of course, being the incredibly childlike person she is i doubt christine even noticed that i was being a bitch. and when i confessed to her at fawn's place yesterday night that i'd thought she was excluding me on purpose, she shot me a look that simultaneously conveyed exasperation, comprehension and fondness. yes, i am a twat.
this morning i opened the New Paper on Sunday and browsed it while sipping milo as is my sunday morning routine. i like giving the yoga poses they feature every week a go just to see how flexible i am. today there was one that had a photograph of the woman sitting with her legs crossed one over the other like so:
i did that, easy as you please. then the next instruction goes, "pull up the genital space and close the anal space". which, like, seriously? i mean if you're doing yoga in some clean room in a temple, with the fan whirring soothingly, karma motes, and cleansing rivulets of sweat pooling in the dip of your back, would it not be incredibly jarring to be told to pull up your "genital space" and close your "anal space". my juvenile sense of humour aside, the instruction just honestly stumped me. i tried it out anyway though, clenching muscles hitherto unclenched. after a while it was quite soothing, but still. maybe the command sounds better when incorporated into sanskrit prayers. nothing like an ancient language nobody speaks anymore to add gravity.
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