So the day has come and gone.
Valentine’s Day, some call it. Friendship Day also, we used to in JC, when we needed to mask our reasons for giving the girl next door a rose. Fellowship Day, as I coined it just now over drinks with some guys in the worship ministry.
Well, contrary to my pessimism, the day actually DID turn out pretty well. The non-rain actually turned out to be a blessing, cos I got to enjoy a very cool evening beside the river, at One Fullerton.
I’ve recently been the subject of some unwanted attention. (Its always the inappropriate ones who seem to have a thing for me. Sigh.) And I guess God couldn’t have picked a better time to remind me of how unwanted attention can cause quite a lot of awkwardness, and how ultimately how hopeless it really is, despite the natural optimism that comes when one harbors a hope.
So… I guess with V-Day come and gone, with no sign that my romance will be encouraged or flower, I shall be true to the promise I made myself, and do things differently.
Guys who read this – I guess for my birthday or anytime sooner when you wanna get me a present, I really really really want a dog. A real dog. Not one of them poodle things you could kill by accidentally stepping on them. A Retriever, a Labrador, an Alsatian… that sort of dogs.
Yeah.
I guess for want of a real companion, what has always been known as Man’s Best Friend can’t really be too bad eh?
Grins.
Anyone?
WHO THE FUCK READS BLOGS?????
Just realised the number of views on my page. Absolutely bewildered by who out there still gets redirected to blogs. Surely no advertisers...
3 comments:
Look, I know that you're in denial, but really, you've got to be a man about it and realise AND ADMIT that you're a Paris Hilton Wannabe. Really. So you might has well just give up the whole "I want a macho macho dog" bull, and just get one of these cute little suckers.
Awww... buy me, PS!
Look, I even chose a chihuahua as FAR away from Tinkerbell (Hilton's pet's name) that I could. He looks cute enough to be a chick-magnet, but not hairless enough to be a chick-repellent/gay-magnet.
Honestly. Get out of Egypt.
Umm... the Egypt thing kindda went by me...
Aside from that, until someone catches me sneaking into Brokeback Mountains with paul, wearing a skirt, I shall continue to assert that I want a pitbull-esque kindda macho creature.
(Don't think I'll be able to decide if I'd rather be a Paris-wannabe or a Nichole-wannbe if it ever came down to that, actually... Hehz...)
Why would you need another macho creature by your side...when you've got...
ME.
stick to your chi chi peng.
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