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? -