that little poem i miraculously conjured after a brief period of drunken stupor, of which i will explain later, up there is dedicated to a fakest faker i know. i thought it was all over when i left primary school and didnt have to see her face again. who knew she'd pop up in my life just like how a pimple appears on my left butt cheek - hey, i'm sure you'd have at least one before - fast, sudden and painfully excruciating.

but it's not like we talk. it's just having to see her again after all those years of bliss (yes, i'd rather go through 2004-2008 a million... no, maybe ten times more than to be in the same room with her even if it were for a minute) kinda made me snap like a twig. now she's worse than ever. if you were never a friend/classmate of hers, you wouldnt know what hit you until after at least you were 'utilised' in her grand plan for world domination. honestly, i wouldnt even give a damn about her right now, it's just having to see a close friend suffer that makes my blood boil. my friend didnt choose to be a part of any of this, she just kinda got sucked into the b*tch's barbie-dolls-that-torture-and-kill-with-ever-smiling-faces hell.

it's also sad to see how many people are unaware of her true intentions. it's even more frustrating to hear how people cannot stand up for themselves because of [some certain factors], just like my friend.

the worst thing is that maybe, just maybe, even she doesnt realise how b*tchy she actually can be.


now, let's talk about vodka.

i went to a friend's house for one of those gatherings we always have, and i was especially looking forward to this one because we havent had one for so so long.

those under 18 had laksa whereas the adults had laksa and orange juice - well, it seemed like orange juice. my mum's friend offered me her glass because she didnt want anymore after two sips, and i happily took it out of her hands. i did not expect myself to do this, especially after what happened that last time where i vomited like linda blair in the exorcist, the only difference was that my vomit was a palette of oranges and browns, not green. i knew there was vodka in the orange juice but what was i thinking? i thought i promised myself not to touch alcohol anymore! maybe i thought what harm could one little bit of vodka make, compared to that bottle of sparkling i had.

wrong move #1. i took a sip, but i didnt taste anything, not even a hint of orangey vitamin C goodness. so i took bigger and bigger sips, until i could at least taste something - vodka, orange, anything. soon, not even after half a glass, i was already flushed. my heart started to beat so fast i thought i would go into cardiac arrest. my head throbbed like mad. my face and neck felt so hot.

it wasnt exactly comfortable.

i thought i would get it over with and chucked down the remaining half glass within 5 minutes.

wrong move #2. soon i felt so dizzy, and that familiar rising feeling from my stomach was becoming very apparent. gawd, i was so nauseous. i had to lie down or else i would have emptied the contents of my stomach - an acidic mixture of laska, coke, sprite, spring roll and water - onto the household's west highland white terrier.

but it got better. soon the effects of the spins wore off. and okay fine, i wasnt exactly in a drunken stupor. and to celebrate that, my friends and i had a good laugh at videos of falling women on youtube.

moral of the story, stop drinking alcohol so damn fast! me drinking too fast was the cause of today's and last year's horrible experiences. you think i should have learnt that lesson last time, but egad!

i realise that alcohol doesnt have to be an enemy. i just have to take it slower next time.
i was told it is an acquired skill after all. it is?
now all i need to do is practice. more 42 BELOW please!

*drunken laughter*




look me in the eyes with the sad, sad look that you wear so well.