the textual siege.

come tonight, the aroma of fat stewing mushrooms would permeate the house and that, together with endlessly chowing on red pieces of barbecued swine and assorted cookies, best represents chinese new year to me. heck, i dont even have new clothes, nor do i ever get generous amounts in my red packets.

anyways, the reason why i am able to bring this post to you is because, on the much feted day, where men stand around sheepishly holding flowers for their beloved because i guess they were shot by that obese baby in diapers, carelessly wielding that bow and arrow - i stupidly twisted my foot. while wearing flip flops. let's take a moment to consider how much of a klutz i am, shall we.

but that pain and inconvenience of hobbling around brought big returns for without which, i wouldn't have enjoyed a very long joyride from my boo. no flowers, no big helium filled balloons but still lots of fun. who needs expensive artefacts of love when you can let the whistling wind whip your hair around, sing out loud to songs on the radio, laugh at the people who call in and get to see a very nice view of jb, which when seen from far, is actually rather quite tolerable.

as a footnote, well not that i want to make my mother a footnote, it's just that i just found out that she's offered to cook for the geriatrics at the old folk's home my paternal grandmother is at. i think if we had a lot more money, she and my dad would be doing some serious philanthropic work. which begs for the question - where on earth did i get my bitchy, judgemental genes from then?