Lessons in Forever

Changed my template and the stoopid blog DON'T WORK!!!

Am procrastinating yet again.
I have a ton of homework to be done this weekend and I just can't bring myself to start.
On the last count I had Pete Sam's IMC report on Monday, 3 ads on Tuesday, Lille's packaging presentation on Tuesday, James Na's 3 A2 size solutions on Thursday and Vani's DAP outline presentation on Friday!

I am SOooooo screwed.

My dad had a mild heart attack this morning.
Was warded for further observation and tests overnight.
Felt like fuck the whole day.
Felt so helpless when I was there.
Stupid rule at hospital states that there should be no more than one 'nominee' visiting at the time and the nurses were so anal about it! However, they made an exception for my sister and let her go up with my mom and I had to stay downstairs till my mom came down to swap places with me.
During that time I finally learnt the finer points of 'snake' on my faithful ole 8250.
Finally my mom called and I went up. Came down a while later cos my mom had to go up and talk to my dad. Went back down to sit by the fountain. At least I had the Newpaper with me this time.
Then this senior citizen with a nice rolex and slight BO had to come and sit on my bench! WITHIN my personal space!
There was another bench beside MINE (I emphasize on 'mine' cos I was there first! First come first gets the bench!) but it held a skinny, fairly mundane female of an undetermined age. I tried to move away but he kept slouching more and more in my space!
I had no where else to go! So I breathed through my mouth the best I could and ignored the strange presence beside me.

What is it with aging men and me???
Why can't I get young hunky men?
Am I destined to be mistress material?
Pull an Anna Nicole Smith and hope the old man dies on me (not literally though...)?
Maybe I should consider an image change...
I wonder who's Demi's image consultant?

Bought two new hamsters.
Hope these aren't gonna die on me so soon.
I just don't have hamster-yuen.
Named one Tinnu and the other Sasha.

Tinnu was originally named Wolfe after she stared me down through her temporary container wall and refused to associate herself with Sasha, sulking in her own personal corner (so drama mama). Wanted to name the fatso greedso Tinu but Wolfe seemed to respond to the name better, she was actually nicer to me after her nap and dinner! So maybe I should give the the benefit of the doubt... maybe she was just grumpy after the bumpy busride home. Guess I should have limo-ed her home. Maybe she would have liked me better... I LIKE this hamster's attitude!

Fat Sasha is just fat.. AND greedy! When I first bought her she had her face stuffed with food and when I brought her home and set up the cage and dumped in the food she began stuffing her face anew! When I came back from the hospital, her face was almost flat! Her cheeks were so bulbuous that they extended the bulk of her already fat face! AND I suspect that Sasha ain't actually a Sasha.. I just hope that "she" just doesn't start humping Tinnu one day... I will PERSONALLY KILL that guy who sold me the hamster... if I remembered what he looked like...
DAMN me and my selective memory!
Well, at least I know that he's in my school. That helps doesn't it?

Just finished uploading my Sentosa pix on yahoo photos...
It takes so long just to get them up and I hate being kept waiting.

Was kinda depressed today after that chat we all had at Jupiter about lynn's dearly departed granny, death and funerals...
It makes me wonder, will I cry at my grandparents' funerals?
I see myself as a cold hearted bitch and I don't really see how I can cry at funerals given as to how I hate crying (in sorrow. I also cry when I laugh.. don't ask me why).
Maybe it'll be different when the time comes and reality starts to sink in.
I don't even know what to do at funerals, too many rules and customs to follow.
The last funeral I attended was a grand aunty's so I can't really say I've had experience since I hardly knew her and we stayed for such a short while.
However, one thing I remembered about that whole event was the viewing of the body.
I was curious, as all funeral virgins are wont to be, morbidly curious.
I knew I'd be freaked when I saw the body but I asked to see it anyway.
The make up was thick and it was so unreal... reminded me of one of those Egyptian funerary masks.

That made me decide that if I die from old age, I want a top notch makeup artist working on me.. like the guy in Death Becomes Her.
If I don't look that good in life, at least I want to look gorgeous in death.
I want an entire make-over!
Either that I'll get me one of those Egyptian masks and save everyone the trouble.
Maybe I can be Batgirl...

KIMI WAS KNOCKED OUTTA THE RACE!!!
by bluddy Ralf Schumacher nonetheless..
I don't really blame Barechello because he was kinda caught in the middle (not to mention that he's Michael's team mate!), but that damn Schumacher squeezed them both off the track!
I'm SO glad that he was forced out as well (If I remembered correctly Kimi's ricocheting car smashed in his side). It wouldn't be right otherwise...

When they collided I was like "OH MY GAWD!!!"
My heart nearly stopped when Kimi hit a spin and totally wrecked his car. The front bit ripped right off!
Thank God he got out of it with only a really sprained neck and bruised legs.

My poor Kimi!

Then Michael blew a tire when he was in his 60th lap I think... Before that he was in 2nd place and I was hoping that at least ONE of my favourites would come in the top 3.

But DAMN! this was a disappointing race.

Montoya came in first by a full minute ahead second placed Coulthard!
Salt in an open wound that one... damn Montoya!
And now he's ahead of Kimi in the placings! Michael's still safe in the first place for now.
I hope Kimi makes Montoya eat dirt at the Hungarian Grand Prix...

Bought a new book today.
PORNO by Irvine Welsh.
The sequel to Trainspotting.

I'm so amused that the characters actually "book-speak" in that delightful Sco-ish accent. Deciphering the langguage however, is another problem made all the more fun by the heavy infusion of cuss words in between.. there's so many ways to use the word fark and shite..

I love that word..
Shite.
as I adore that utterly sexy Sco-ish accent..
and Johnny Lee Miller (Sick Boy).

Was rereading one of the Sandman TPBs today, I think it was Seasons of Mists...
I was examining the drawings of Morpheus' castle and I realised that it actually looked a lot like a coupla dildos stuck together! That got me thinking about phallus' in architecture. Think of the huge domes atop the tall towers of mosques those delightful old Russian palaces, Venetian palazzos...

Now that buildings and skyscrappers have gotten so tall, I think the penis envy syndrome has reached an all time high in our time. I mean, every architect at sometime or another dreamed of designing something which is bigger and taller and grander than anything anyone else has ever built. Something other architects will measure their structures up against for a few hundred years. I guess that's why buildings are getting so tall nowadays, and the Petronas Towers? Talk about doubling the competition...

I wonder if there are twin headed dildos?

And how about that Tower of Babel? They were competing with God for fark's sake... and the new WTC which has arisen in the ashes of the old? There's architectural viagra for you.
Perhaps building tall buildings does a lot for the male ego, supplementing in concrete what's missing in nature.
Talk about penis extentions... Shite!
I wonder if that's why most of the architects I've ever heard of are male... I won't commit myself by saying "Men" because some may be lacking in that department.
Maybe females turning more to interior designing because they want to prove their inner beauty? I wonder if they're ugly? Supplementing in home decor what's missing physically and facially...

Architecture as an expression of self...

It is my belief that the architects who designed the world's tallest buildings must have small dicks (or whoever commisioned them to design them).

That leads me to a stone in my path of thought.
What of female architects?
Are they closeted butches with penis envy (or as a friend of mine so quaintly puts it, the 3rd leg syndrome)

Imagine...
A thriving cosmopolitan first world city of skyscrapping monumental dildos...

Me and my filthy mind. HAHA!