Wednesday, August 17, 2005

"hi, i'm ping and i'm an emotional bulimic. i binge and binge on emotions not unlike kirsty ally with food and try my darndest to purge." -cue food bulimics smiling only to give way to gastric acid, bile yellowed enamel and emotional bulimics throwing knowing grins at my way. "my porcelain god would be a dastardly combination of more boys and decadence." paradise has not been overthrown by trouble but lying prone and idle in bed only gives way to too much thought which is oft unenjoyable and calls for a random rash of blogging. open the door to my heart a wee crack and whoosh, everything that is anything comes rushing in to wreak havoc on the fist sized pump that i often wish was iron clad. obviously i'm not the only girl prone to such unhealthy tendancies but i am all too aware such habits would only go down with me to my grave and later, the fiery pits of hell. it's obviously too late to change because it's known that despite how hard you try to give yourself an internal overhaul, something like less than 5% of you only actually succumbs to the forced change so you might as well just fergeddaboutit and acknowledge who you really are. i am one part foolish, two parts foolhardy, a dash of blind faith and a pinch of the ability to hang onto something long past its due date. don't forget to throw caution to the wind, toss thoroughly and you get me. that's the equation to my formula to loving. what more can i say, life and hearbreak go hand in hand all too happily. ok, end of personal ranting which i will regret blurting out to all and sundry when i wake up. i popped into zouk last saturday only to have the displeasure of meeting an acquaintance whom i've literally had to tell to fuck off online and have him introduce his new girlfriend to us. he did the rounds with the boys and then, me. when my turn came to introduce myself to her came, i stuck out my hand; which i might add, i only do sporadically or when my reflexes spring a surprise on me. she shook my hand in a rather limp manner not unlike the cursory shreds of cabbage lying between a patty of ground meat and bread in a burger, much to my annoyance. i absolutely hate it when girls do that. what is wrong with returning a friendly handshake firmly, like you mean it? such limp wristness is not just confined to the gayboys but is actually more rampant among girls. unconfident, scaredy girls, that is. being the owner of a pair of rather small hands, there aren't many times in my life i can safely say i was afraid of crushing someone's hand in mine but i can finally say with loud and proud it happened on saturday. the short stay at zouk was also rendered even more unpleasant because i was dressed like a hobo and mind you, not even olsen twin sort of expensive hobo, just plain hobo. zouk was unforeseen on my agenda for the night and i was dressed for comfort. i hate being underdressed and zouk was just crawling with women kitted out in better outfits than mine, nevermind most of them looked much like roadkill. despite all, what took the night was seeing said acquaintance hoist his girlfriend up such that she was straddling him in a very vulgar manner that is largely reserved for the bedroom. he proceeded to bounce her up and down and wasn't even in sync with the music. how very distasteful.

the textual siege.

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