FARTING

Clara sorta recently posted a post on farting.

Flatulence, what a fascinating topic, it's like a sacred topic that plebeians violate in public while the upper class violate it in the privacy of their own rooms. How exciting.

I remember there was this one time I was in Australia, and I came across this shirt that had 25 pictures of bums with air puffs emitting from the cheeks. Then they had names to each. There was the Silent But Deadly (household favourite), SkillSaw Fart (it vibrates the farter), Splatter Fart (let's just say air isn't the only thing coming out), Stutter Fart (a butt with a verbal problem!) and a ton more. It was very funny, and strangely, my family and I can remember it up to this very day. *Awww!!*

But whatever your fart preference is, I just want you to know, no one judges you. Even if you choose the sonic boom fart. Sure, it might smell shit (literally), and have strength to light a match, but everyone has to fart sometimes!

Even soap opera people fart! (speaking of soap opera people: they are the most plastic looking people ever! There's this guy in General Hospital who looks like a live-version of Ken, Barbie's ex-boyfriend. How weird is that?!)

Anyways: Check out the video. People farting on national television.



Told you everyone farts!

But yeah, farting totally blows. (harhar, couldn't resist the pun) Can you imagine if you're out on a first date and you're exchanging googly eyes at each other, you think it's just you and him. You lose control of your senses, he sighs and you- "PLLLARRRTT..." You let one rip. In front of him! Oh the pain! The shame! He looks at you grimacing uncomfortably and calls for the bill, while you were still chewing on your Chocolate Mousse! Then never again do you see him. Except for when you accidently bump into him, yet he can't be around you, there's too much bad air surrounding your relationship. (I couldn't resist this pun either!)

But never fear! Farting is for everyone! That situation up there will probably never happen to you.

- blow me down! -

why say less when you can say more?

This is not some random revelation. It's just a topic i'd like to bring up.

I'm a very loud person.

I KNOW OKAY! All my lovely darlings out there, no, you don't need to tell me that I'm a bigmouth, I have ears. I can hear.

Here are some of the examples of observations (if that's what you call sarcastic, paltry comments)

Ben: "Eh eh! Another old person just died!"

Mr. Phillip Lee: "Amanda Bigmouth Lee" (he couldn't remember my middle name when Ms Yew asked)

Stuart: "I'm deaf."

That's like, a small sample. I would put more, but I'm very tired as I've been reading Dawn Yang's blog and my brain is bleeding out of my ears from the immense stupidity of her frivolous lifestyle. (don't condemn me for reading her damn blog okay. NIC told me about Arissa Luna - the girl she imitated - and I was curious!!)

Here's the truth lah, actually, I find it very funny. I don't take it very seriously.

But then again...

DO I HAVE A SIGN ON MY HEAD THAT SAYS: "READY-MADE FOR TEASING?"

But wah, today Ivan and Jesal, congrats. You guys really took the cake man. AND ELISHA. (you all DIE by the way) I don't know how you all come up with these comments hor.

Apparently I'm Ms Swan's long lost twin sister and Kung Fu Panda at the same time.

WHAT?! WHAT?!

I really don't know how they get these funny notions in their head. Retards. All of them.

But there is no bigger retard then... DAWN YANG!

Okay, I take that back. She's not a retard. She's way faster than the average person. (especially when it comes to branded goods, exotic holidays, rich old men... *oops!) don't know her personally, but from what I read she's pretty much a spoiled brat.

Maybe if I flutter my eyelashes for a really long time and start pursing my lips Daddy will buy me a BMW convertible and get me plastic surgery so that I can look like my favourite socialite and let my transformation to bitch-dom be complete. I mean, I've like, got the MONEY right? And I'm smart, cause I've an acceptance letter from NYU.

Oh but wait. Apparently once you get plastic surgery done, your brains go along with your uh-gliness. Into the lonkang.

sigh. If anything, I feel sorry for her lor. Life under such scrutiny. It must be so tough to have rich old men going all primitive when they're around you, to have your underwear showing to the whole world (must be so embarrassing), to have to get your bottom lip to look longer than your top lip while achieving the forced-smile look. OH! Is that a naturally pursed-lips look? So sorry.

Ee. My hair stand. Don't want to talk about her anymore.

Heh. But what do I know right? My body is not made of plastic, I'm not remotely pretty enough to have people imitate me. I don't have a welcome letter from NYU nor do I have the credentials to offer my insights on her life. So my judgment of Dawn Yang... It's a non-issue lah, I'm very small on the blogger chain. Probably number 4 billionth on the list of blogs. So relaxx fan of dawn yang. (I only know one. The rest of my friends, like me, think she's an insipid waste of useful space) My tirade on her life as a "blogger" is like not important.

Oh! But lovelove http://xiaxue.blogspot.com/ I can't stop laughing when I read it. Too funny. So is dawnwayang.com HURHURHUR. So honestly brutal.

- to be smart? -