1. Mistress Tyke by *photoswithattitude2. Dark Love by ~KaitlynRenee
I hate it whenever my parents, especially my dad, talks about my piercing and all that. As if it's damn wrong to have piercing like that.
It's so annoying because it is so ridiculous that I have to go through all that stereotypical shit AT HOME. It's not as if I do things to hurt the public or do anything illegal. It's just a piercing for fuck's sake!
WHYYYY??!
Thing is, my dad is just like me, super stubborn and have about the same characteristics (especially when it comes to my mum. We'd just look up at each other then look at my mom, with a smirk, we go back to doing what we were doing while my mum goes on rambling about her workload or nonsensical stuff).
So, quite obviously, he's still harping on my piercing after months of getting my labret. He worries that my hole would be as huge as the size of Patricia Mok's mouth by the time I'm in my 50s. THING IS, lip piercings heal really quick. I could close them by tomorrow if I want to.
Sometimes, I wonder why parents are the most stereotypical people on Earth.
They pick on the most insignificant things that don't matter and give the most exaggerated comment/remark. THEN, while you receive their blows, they ask the most stupid questions like, 'ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?' when it's quite obvious that I HAVE to listen since I'm just sitting right BESIDE you.
TSK.
I've seen passerbys giving me dirty looks just because of that silver thing. EH PLEASE, at least I don't look like you, friggin FD who pass judgmental thoughts on me when you don't even know me.
Alright, I shall not be so anal about such stuff anymore. Besides, what I want to do concerns me and just me only right?
OF COURSE RIGHT LA.
Interesting encounter in the train today with Mahesh.
Train's usually packed from 5 onwards right? So, we were boarding the train and quite obviously, we were in a tight spot and we can't really move about.
There was this old man about in his 60s, beside us. What he did made me go, 'OMAGAWD YOU KNN YMF, KMA, CBCB FALSKDJFALSDJFLAKSFJ'.
He took out his handkerchief and covered his nose just because my nice Indian friend was beside him.
WHAT AN ASSHOLE OF THE BIGGEST SHIT HEAD.
PIANG, please. Some Indians admittedly have smell but my friend here DOESN'T okay you stupid Chinese.
Eh banana, I've smelt bad-smelling people and they're of your and my race: CHINESE. Kena sai, you should have been in my sitting position in the bus on the previous day. This old man sat beside me and HOLYFUCKERENA! His smell is so overpowering, my nose wrinkled unknowingly and my eyes fluttered in bewilderment, never knowing that people could smell THAAAAT BAD.
OMFG. Horrible. And needless to say, I breathed through my mouth throughout the whole bus ride (I was hoping that he'd get off the bus before reaching Gardens. Obviously NOT). That horrible CHINESE man just smelt as bad as a fart coming from someone who just ate onions, garlic, eggs and dairy products.
It's just so horrible, that stupid old man. I think I'm beginning to be an ageist anytime soon now. Unless I meet nicer old people, my ageist thinking will always stay put.
SO, back to the train..
That man with dried and wrinkled prunes had to cover his nose with his stupid handkerchief, probably to smell his saliva (what you use handkerchief for? To wipe mouth, ah-choo in or blow your nose in right?) or to smell a wondorous and popular perfume/colonge used by all elderly people in the continent - Axe Oil.
UGH!
