Ha, let's just say daddy is always right

Me: Joan, you should really stop faking that loser accent when you speak

Joan: I don't!!!!

Me: Don't lie.

Joan: I don't try to speak with an accent lor.

Daddy: Joan, do you see your nose growing a little longer?


Mummy: Eh Joan, you lost weight ah?

Joan: Huh? No.

Mummy: Yes, your face seems a little smaller.

Daddy (to mummy): I think you're developing cataract.


HAHAHAHA. Hee, love my stingy pops who always happens to remember when i keep his spare change.

):

Anyhoos, life has been busy as a bee. I really shouldn't even be here right now, but what's a blog for if i don't record my loser moments in life to remember, when i'm say, 30.

With prolly dyed and soft permed hair, act cool sunglasses and a lousy figure.

Hmm. Hope not. The image is seriously disturbing.

Saturday at jasmine's house with pizza was FUNFUNFUN! :D

Okay, I totally should not have signed up for moot parliament. It's highly intimidating. And scary.

ANDDD, I finally may be able to get some exercise done with Indian dance starting on wednesday! WHOOO (:

I shall attempt to act happy now. Because my life, in all honesty, is really quite depressing.

I hate my hormones for my rapid weight gain. And my head for shitty hair. And my time management skills. And my sucky sciences and math.

Yes, that's about it. It's a cummulative list no?

Maria the rat's birthday is on wednesday, and that's when my first indian dance session starts ): Somebody is being slightly petty about it here but I'm going to make it up to you dude.

It's not like we're not going out on thursday anyhoos.

MA1102 Test = A freaking dead marie.

You have no idea how crapshit my math is. And it's not as if i don't pay attention in math! I do. Gah, jean so needs to donate 10IQ points to me.

I'll give her 4cm of height.

Then we'd be even.

I used to think it'd be nice if jean and i were twins. I don't think so anymore. But i'm glad we're sisters (: Because she's bringing her bread for me tomorrow. Heehee.