I found something precious yesterday. A present. A graduation present. The bad spelling and grammar and not so smoothly placed photos and slides. I want to be fifteen again trotting around in my black agent 69 tee, feeling arrogant and invincible. Good times. I miss those days. The movie nights, the parties, the bus stops (rather the boys we went to perve on), the energy, the confidence, the feminism, the pondering on the meaning of life, Usher's ugly small head on his heavily (and unnecessarily) built body, first kiss gone horribly wrong, T.S. Eliot ... every little things. I'm glad I have my friend still beside me- maybe I could give my life for you.
Mmm .. enough emo-ing.
iTunes playing : Trying your luck by The Strokes
Reading : A Clockwork Orange
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Tear you from the ceiling ..
If I had a car ...
... the windows would always be rolled down - winter, summer, autumn and spring. In tunnels and on bridges and when its really windy and perhaps when it's raining (depends).
... the air-conditioning would never be on because car-AC makes me really sick- I get headaches and nausea. (Heater will be on during winter though .. I can't stand the cold).
... there will always be music. The volume depends on the mood. Angry mood is always associated with loud music and speeding.
... only selected people on the front passenger seat. Surprisingly, the sibling makes it in the list.
... maybe I'll take up smoking (depends).
If I was guaranteed a large sum of money from inheritence I ...
... would invest it all in banks and whatever else- ongoing source of money (don't bother with the details) and not work a day in my life.
... study Philosophy or Anthropology or English Literature or Archeology.
... sleep all day and stay up all night.
... buy things I can't and won't ever be able to afford.
... practice black magic and the related mumbo-jumbo.
If I was smart I ...
... would not put off driving lessons.
... would not put off assignments for late nights and last minutes.
... would not write an entry on bloggers at this very moment.
... at least pretend that I cared.
... would not pretend to understand Dali and Monet and Gogh and art (contemporary, post-victorian, pre-victorian, surrealism, impressionism .. whatever other -isms) in general.
... would not expose so much on bloggers to the point where others claim they're able to write a 2000 word essay on Shaolee Jafrin Zaman (though I would be flattered).
... would have done some things very differently- Touched when I had the chance, studied when it was needed, spoken up when I was uncomfortable.
... would pretend to be more responsive- to everything.
... would definitely not talk so much.
Current song on iPod : Blind by Placebo
Still Reading : Chain of Hearts
Movies waiting to be watched : Five - Underworld Evolution, English Patient, Casino Royale, In the Mood for Love and The New World
Crushing on : Brian Molko
Plots for short-stories swimming in head : Four - I know the beginning, I know the end .. but no motivation/inspiration. My muse died in a car-crash?
... the windows would always be rolled down - winter, summer, autumn and spring. In tunnels and on bridges and when its really windy and perhaps when it's raining (depends).
... the air-conditioning would never be on because car-AC makes me really sick- I get headaches and nausea. (Heater will be on during winter though .. I can't stand the cold).
... there will always be music. The volume depends on the mood. Angry mood is always associated with loud music and speeding.
... only selected people on the front passenger seat. Surprisingly, the sibling makes it in the list.
... maybe I'll take up smoking (depends).
If I was guaranteed a large sum of money from inheritence I ...
... would invest it all in banks and whatever else- ongoing source of money (don't bother with the details) and not work a day in my life.
... study Philosophy or Anthropology or English Literature or Archeology.
... sleep all day and stay up all night.
... buy things I can't and won't ever be able to afford.
... practice black magic and the related mumbo-jumbo.
If I was smart I ...
... would not put off driving lessons.
... would not put off assignments for late nights and last minutes.
... would not write an entry on bloggers at this very moment.
... at least pretend that I cared.
... would not pretend to understand Dali and Monet and Gogh and art (contemporary, post-victorian, pre-victorian, surrealism, impressionism .. whatever other -isms) in general.
... would not expose so much on bloggers to the point where others claim they're able to write a 2000 word essay on Shaolee Jafrin Zaman (though I would be flattered).
... would have done some things very differently- Touched when I had the chance, studied when it was needed, spoken up when I was uncomfortable.
... would pretend to be more responsive- to everything.
... would definitely not talk so much.
Current song on iPod : Blind by Placebo
Still Reading : Chain of Hearts
Movies waiting to be watched : Five - Underworld Evolution, English Patient, Casino Royale, In the Mood for Love and The New World
Crushing on : Brian Molko
Plots for short-stories swimming in head : Four - I know the beginning, I know the end .. but no motivation/inspiration. My muse died in a car-crash?
Thursday, April 26, 2007
See you at the bitter end!
'Baby, did you forget to take your meds?'
Sad, but true, I love and respect mama even though the rest of the family hates him. Perhaps because he hasn't done anything directly to break that bond with me. Last night, I realised that I miss talking to him about movies and about books and alcohol and sometimes love. There is one thing I've always wanted to see- it's seeing him play the father's role. I don't think he'll make a terrific father to his children (yet, ironically he was probably more of a father figure for me than anyone else had/has/ever will be).
Speaking of role-plays, that is what a large portion of social psychology is about - the roles we play, what prompts us to play these roles, how we play these roles, why we have to role-play. Professor Forgas, despite having a weird European accent is an excellent lecturer (and very attractive). He is the sort of professor you see in the movies- the kind to attract confused and insecure young 'airy-fairy' female students lacking real father-figures. Yes, I do believe that when a fairly young girl is attracted to someone a lot older (minimum 15 years), it is because they desperately need a father figure (.. I'll be a total sexist prick and say that boys do that only for the sex .. but perhaps not .. then again I never had that much faith in the population for whom reproduction is a low cost). If you think about it .. that's just the underlying factor isn't it .. boys grow up to be just like their fathers and girls do the same. If a girl had a great father, she wants a partner as close to as her father- if the father was not a good one, she wants a partner that is the polar opposite to her useless father. It's the same for the boys ... Freud's theory anyone? (Actually, it's not all that accurate since a child doesn't understand the concept of gender and the fact that you're stuck with your gender for life (i.e. gender constancy) until the age of 7 or 8 .. hence why it makes no sense why a 2 year old boy would be secretly in love with their mothers and would want to kill his father for sleeping with the mother).
A letter came for the sibling today. I miss receiving letters by post. The last time I received a proper letter - more than two pages, hand written, stamped and addressed to Mascot seems a long time ago. I have a whole drawer dedicated to junks such as these - old cards, old letters etc. Useless junk really- except for the people. People are always interesting.
So anyway, I was expressing my intent on having an affair with Professor Forgas. I'm not sure whether I'm just really perverted or someone with a very creative mind. I like making up events concerning myself and people around me- not necessarily sexual in nature or lacking in morality. It was Forgas' .. erm .. chest that caught my attention (despite that ugly chain he was wearing. I wonder what he smells like up-close). I noticed it before, I am fascinated with shirts that are partially unbuttoned- usually up to the third button- it doesn't expose a whole lot yet exposes just enough to let the imagination flow (that is why I hate hard core pornography .. I hate looking at directly exposed reproductive organs and what some busty girl (or some heavily packaged guy) is doing to that organ). [OR maybe I'm just bitter or worse stupid and naive .. all of which I've been called before].
Currently Reading : Chain of Hearts by Maureen McCarthy
Current song on Winamp : Songs to say goodbye by Placebo
Assignments Pending : Two - PSYC and INOV
Sad, but true, I love and respect mama even though the rest of the family hates him. Perhaps because he hasn't done anything directly to break that bond with me. Last night, I realised that I miss talking to him about movies and about books and alcohol and sometimes love. There is one thing I've always wanted to see- it's seeing him play the father's role. I don't think he'll make a terrific father to his children (yet, ironically he was probably more of a father figure for me than anyone else had/has/ever will be).
Speaking of role-plays, that is what a large portion of social psychology is about - the roles we play, what prompts us to play these roles, how we play these roles, why we have to role-play. Professor Forgas, despite having a weird European accent is an excellent lecturer (and very attractive). He is the sort of professor you see in the movies- the kind to attract confused and insecure young 'airy-fairy' female students lacking real father-figures. Yes, I do believe that when a fairly young girl is attracted to someone a lot older (minimum 15 years), it is because they desperately need a father figure (.. I'll be a total sexist prick and say that boys do that only for the sex .. but perhaps not .. then again I never had that much faith in the population for whom reproduction is a low cost). If you think about it .. that's just the underlying factor isn't it .. boys grow up to be just like their fathers and girls do the same. If a girl had a great father, she wants a partner as close to as her father- if the father was not a good one, she wants a partner that is the polar opposite to her useless father. It's the same for the boys ... Freud's theory anyone? (Actually, it's not all that accurate since a child doesn't understand the concept of gender and the fact that you're stuck with your gender for life (i.e. gender constancy) until the age of 7 or 8 .. hence why it makes no sense why a 2 year old boy would be secretly in love with their mothers and would want to kill his father for sleeping with the mother).
A letter came for the sibling today. I miss receiving letters by post. The last time I received a proper letter - more than two pages, hand written, stamped and addressed to Mascot seems a long time ago. I have a whole drawer dedicated to junks such as these - old cards, old letters etc. Useless junk really- except for the people. People are always interesting.
So anyway, I was expressing my intent on having an affair with Professor Forgas. I'm not sure whether I'm just really perverted or someone with a very creative mind. I like making up events concerning myself and people around me- not necessarily sexual in nature or lacking in morality. It was Forgas' .. erm .. chest that caught my attention (despite that ugly chain he was wearing. I wonder what he smells like up-close). I noticed it before, I am fascinated with shirts that are partially unbuttoned- usually up to the third button- it doesn't expose a whole lot yet exposes just enough to let the imagination flow (that is why I hate hard core pornography .. I hate looking at directly exposed reproductive organs and what some busty girl (or some heavily packaged guy) is doing to that organ). [OR maybe I'm just bitter or worse stupid and naive .. all of which I've been called before].
Currently Reading : Chain of Hearts by Maureen McCarthy
Current song on Winamp : Songs to say goodbye by Placebo
Assignments Pending : Two - PSYC and INOV
Sunday, April 22, 2007
What goes around .. goes around ..
I sat down after a long time to watch one of those music chart shows on Television and Justin Timberlake was on (Surprise!Surprise!) and I realised what a bitter revenge-seeking son of a bastard he is. Literally all of his big hits are about his ex cheating on him (two guesses on who this ex might be .. hehehehe .. the latest WHO magazine tells me that she's out of rehab and back in shape). I remember when he used to be with NSync and loving their first single (shame-shame). Anyway .. the main point is .. JT is an A-grade bastard and probably deserves to die for being one (if not for his annoying songs .. which at times I listen to for some .. lightness .. it's a bit like watching those really bad Bollywood films because you just want to escape all the high-thought bull shit).
The term 'ex' is so .. funny. The other day a friend and I went to her cousin's place and bumped into her ex .. (I swear he was really hot when they were going out five years ago {Oh-my..it's been that long .. has it?}, but that night .. he looked .. well .. different .. he was definitely skinnier and not the good kind of skinny and definitely a darker complexion .. I wonder if he's single). That really got me thinking .. you can't ask people about their ex .. there are some questions that just come to ones' head automatically - 'how did you meet' 'was it raining when you first kissed' ' did you cuddle after you've made love for the first time' 'did you go on a drunkard spree when you called it off' etc. I couldn't ask my friend all this even if I tried. I couldn't ask all this to my lover. I couldn't ask these to anyone. On the other hand I couldn't answer if someone asked me either- 'met at a family function' 'no it wasn't, it was on the second floor of the mud house we have back home' 'no, did not go on a drunkard spree' or 'met outside psyc lectures' 'it happened the moment Paul kissed Holly at the end of Breakfast at Tiffany's' 'we were interrupted by her parents pulling into the driveway' etc.etc.
Time to head to work. One of these days, this blog will be a political one. On a quick note, there's a political party on the ballot list and I kid you not, they are called 'Australian Against Immigrants' .. hehehehehehe .. I had a good laugh.
The term 'ex' is so .. funny. The other day a friend and I went to her cousin's place and bumped into her ex .. (I swear he was really hot when they were going out five years ago {Oh-my..it's been that long .. has it?}, but that night .. he looked .. well .. different .. he was definitely skinnier and not the good kind of skinny and definitely a darker complexion .. I wonder if he's single). That really got me thinking .. you can't ask people about their ex .. there are some questions that just come to ones' head automatically - 'how did you meet' 'was it raining when you first kissed' ' did you cuddle after you've made love for the first time' 'did you go on a drunkard spree when you called it off' etc. I couldn't ask my friend all this even if I tried. I couldn't ask all this to my lover. I couldn't ask these to anyone. On the other hand I couldn't answer if someone asked me either- 'met at a family function' 'no it wasn't, it was on the second floor of the mud house we have back home' 'no, did not go on a drunkard spree' or 'met outside psyc lectures' 'it happened the moment Paul kissed Holly at the end of Breakfast at Tiffany's' 'we were interrupted by her parents pulling into the driveway' etc.etc.
Time to head to work. One of these days, this blog will be a political one. On a quick note, there's a political party on the ballot list and I kid you not, they are called 'Australian Against Immigrants' .. hehehehehehe .. I had a good laugh.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Where soul meets body!
Some things need to be perfect. When I want a sandwich in the morning, I must have a sandwich or I won't eat anything for breakfast. That's the reason I didn't have breakfast this morning (also I was running late for the lab test I bombed so gracefully). Some things need to be perfect but they hardly ever are .. first kiss .. first proper date (which I have yet to experience, because nothing ever matched up with my definition of a 'proper-date'). I won't buy any clothes that have anything I think is ugly (there was this dress thing, everything was perfect .. but the stones they used for the flowers on the border of the skirt was big and gaudy and yellow .. bye bye dress). I can't start my assignments unless I have that perfect opening sentence. I can't do a lot of things (I think I put up a list a long long time ago). I think I drive/used to drive my parents crazy because I'd hardly ever like anything and I would never clearly say that I hated it. It's actually quite annoying- when the sibling does the same thing. Sometimes she cries and you ask her what's wrong .. all she does is just shed tears .. and nothing else .. no complaint .. no clear indication about the actual problem .. the more you insist the more she freezes up .. she gets all stiff and cries even more .... it gets frustrating and all you want to do is hit her head against a wall .... I'm smarter now though .. I brush it off and she comes and tells me later on.
This summer I took a stupid course on effective communication and one thing that'll stay with me (something I'd like to implement but I have my doubts) is this :
'When you _____, I feel _____, so I think you should ______.
For example, 'When you started watching BBC out of nowhere and started ignoring and avoiding, I felt depressed and hurt and inadequate and frankly the hurt was more gigantic than the annoyance you might have felt.' OR 'When you slapped me, I was stunned but I'll forgive you for never saying sorry, I know how you are and you show love through sharing your online porn experience.' TRY IT AT HOME TODAY AND WATCH THE MAGIC!!
Hell, sometimes I want to slap myself. I am not uptight, I'm just a romantic .. so please give me a break. It hurts to hear things like that. It hurts even more to hear all the reasons behind who I should date, why the hell can't people take their own advise? Don't tell me to date a non-passionate (because we'd have so much things in common) when it's you who needs to be with someone passionate .. go date someone like that yourself, no one is stopping you.
This one thing always always makes me smile .. when the bus driver speeds like crazy because there's no one waiting in the next stop. It's kind of refreshing. It made me laugh out loud this morning. (and a toddler smiled at me today .. for some reason, toddlers and younger babies can't stand the sight of me .. but this one did).
And I do not like the smell of freshly cut grass. I can't even tell if they smell.
Someday I would like to turn this blog into a political one .. as soon as I locate my exact feelings regarding this area.
I haven't seen Gavin for so long .. I mean .. that's timing for you .. I missed out on him by one month or more precisely before he moved to that other place I should have made my move to secure a .. blaah .. no cry over spilt soup.
' I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
And if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too '
I hate Gibbard.
I totally forgot .. I borrowed 'Pardon me, you're stepping on my eyeball' yesterday. I shall read it now.
Today is Friday the 13th .. be aware.
This summer I took a stupid course on effective communication and one thing that'll stay with me (something I'd like to implement but I have my doubts) is this :
'When you _____, I feel _____, so I think you should ______.
For example, 'When you started watching BBC out of nowhere and started ignoring and avoiding, I felt depressed and hurt and inadequate and frankly the hurt was more gigantic than the annoyance you might have felt.' OR 'When you slapped me, I was stunned but I'll forgive you for never saying sorry, I know how you are and you show love through sharing your online porn experience.' TRY IT AT HOME TODAY AND WATCH THE MAGIC!!
Hell, sometimes I want to slap myself. I am not uptight, I'm just a romantic .. so please give me a break. It hurts to hear things like that. It hurts even more to hear all the reasons behind who I should date, why the hell can't people take their own advise? Don't tell me to date a non-passionate (because we'd have so much things in common) when it's you who needs to be with someone passionate .. go date someone like that yourself, no one is stopping you.
This one thing always always makes me smile .. when the bus driver speeds like crazy because there's no one waiting in the next stop. It's kind of refreshing. It made me laugh out loud this morning. (and a toddler smiled at me today .. for some reason, toddlers and younger babies can't stand the sight of me .. but this one did).
And I do not like the smell of freshly cut grass. I can't even tell if they smell.
Someday I would like to turn this blog into a political one .. as soon as I locate my exact feelings regarding this area.
I haven't seen Gavin for so long .. I mean .. that's timing for you .. I missed out on him by one month or more precisely before he moved to that other place I should have made my move to secure a .. blaah .. no cry over spilt soup.
' I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
And if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too '
I hate Gibbard.
I totally forgot .. I borrowed 'Pardon me, you're stepping on my eyeball' yesterday. I shall read it now.
Today is Friday the 13th .. be aware.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Is My Timing That Flawed ..
.. apparently it was for Ian Curtis ..
That's the case for a lot of people. It's funny how just one minute can make a substantial difference to someone's life. Leaving the house at 8:14 instead of 8:12 sometimes costs me missing two consecutive buses (which aren't meant to come at the same time in the first place) and another half hour of wait, thus coming late for tutorials. Other times, leaving the house at 8:10 instead of 8:12 had me waiting at the bus stop for two minutes before getting a bus.
On that same note .. this morning in an attempt to wake up at 6 in the morning, I woke up around 7:50, with only twenty minutes to get ready - that is .. toilet, brush, wear clothes, pack bag .. AND I didn't skip breakfast .. didn't miss the morning bus AND arrived at uni with ten minutes to spare.
I hate living so close to uni (though I would not mind living on campus dormatory .. the folks at Shalom and the Sydney Uni housing have so much bloody fun).
These days the entries lack substance, and even though these has never been any substantial substance to begin with, atleast past entries were interesting. These days all I seem to do is complain - about everything. I'm slowly starting to realise why best friends don't share their everyday (secrets, little things, partner complaint, sexual worries) things once they have found their other half .. .. I don't make any sense.
It's funny, unexpected death seems only to knock on someone's door at the times they are happy. I mean, you never see any miserable people to - just die. They don't. Miserable people, suicidal people, depressed people they never die .. they don't get run over by cars or trains, they don't contract any STD nor do they suffer from any terminal diseases. It's always the optimists, the positives, the happy's that get run over by cars or find out they have less than a year to live. I wonder why ..
To be honest, I've thought about my parents' death a lot .. I'm sure they still have another twenty years ahead of them and really there's no need to be mentally prepared for their death (neither do I have any reason to murder them for inheritence as we're pretty asset-poor), but I think about it at times. When my grandfather died last October, my mother's reaction was something like .. but I never saw it coming - I don't think I'll ever say that in the event of my birth-givers' deaths. Then again, you never know how you'll react to something if you've never experienced it before. (Even if you experience something a second time - be it love, betrayal, another death, there's no guarantee that you'll react to it the same way you did the first time).
I play around with alternate futures at times (actually, not alternate future, but potential future that could have been but probably would not occur). For example, if my parents died tomorrow in a car crash, in my head I exactly know who to call, when to call and what to do.
----------------
Don't you hate it ..
Don't you just fucking hate it when whatever you type gets deleted? Fucking hell.
That's the case for a lot of people. It's funny how just one minute can make a substantial difference to someone's life. Leaving the house at 8:14 instead of 8:12 sometimes costs me missing two consecutive buses (which aren't meant to come at the same time in the first place) and another half hour of wait, thus coming late for tutorials. Other times, leaving the house at 8:10 instead of 8:12 had me waiting at the bus stop for two minutes before getting a bus.
On that same note .. this morning in an attempt to wake up at 6 in the morning, I woke up around 7:50, with only twenty minutes to get ready - that is .. toilet, brush, wear clothes, pack bag .. AND I didn't skip breakfast .. didn't miss the morning bus AND arrived at uni with ten minutes to spare.
I hate living so close to uni (though I would not mind living on campus dormatory .. the folks at Shalom and the Sydney Uni housing have so much bloody fun).
These days the entries lack substance, and even though these has never been any substantial substance to begin with, atleast past entries were interesting. These days all I seem to do is complain - about everything. I'm slowly starting to realise why best friends don't share their everyday (secrets, little things, partner complaint, sexual worries) things once they have found their other half .. .. I don't make any sense.
It's funny, unexpected death seems only to knock on someone's door at the times they are happy. I mean, you never see any miserable people to - just die. They don't. Miserable people, suicidal people, depressed people they never die .. they don't get run over by cars or trains, they don't contract any STD nor do they suffer from any terminal diseases. It's always the optimists, the positives, the happy's that get run over by cars or find out they have less than a year to live. I wonder why ..
To be honest, I've thought about my parents' death a lot .. I'm sure they still have another twenty years ahead of them and really there's no need to be mentally prepared for their death (neither do I have any reason to murder them for inheritence as we're pretty asset-poor), but I think about it at times. When my grandfather died last October, my mother's reaction was something like .. but I never saw it coming - I don't think I'll ever say that in the event of my birth-givers' deaths. Then again, you never know how you'll react to something if you've never experienced it before. (Even if you experience something a second time - be it love, betrayal, another death, there's no guarantee that you'll react to it the same way you did the first time).
I play around with alternate futures at times (actually, not alternate future, but potential future that could have been but probably would not occur). For example, if my parents died tomorrow in a car crash, in my head I exactly know who to call, when to call and what to do.
----------------
Don't you hate it ..
Don't you just fucking hate it when whatever you type gets deleted? Fucking hell.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
.. and if I was sober ..
.. would I rip hearts apart like paper ?
Yes!
Gibbard is so annoying .. I hate him .. I hate him .. yet .. yet .. I love him .. I love Arnold .. hehehehehehehe .. I love Helga too ..
If I was sober, I would never have taken MICR3081. This week is mid session break week and I'm at uni from 9 AM - 6 PM (with an hour break in between for lunch, which I'm not utilising to eat lunch .. for reasons unknown) doing lab work - swabbing Horse Blood Agars and MAC plates and gram staining for rods and cocci.
What's so good about FaceBook?
Sports-fanatics make me giggle and laugh .. I don't understand you people .. infact I can't understand passionate people altogether, including religious fanatics, anti-sex fanatics, sex fanatics, pure scientists, pure/abstract mathematicians, musicians, elitist music-listeners, hard-core millionaire/billionaire businessmen, cleaning fanatics .. the list goes on and on.
Tired. Depressed. Hungry.
I want a martini for some reason and I have yet to fulfil my tasting of sake (Japanese rice wine .. the spelling is weird, so is the pronounciation). Back to the bacteria I go. The difference betweer Strptococcus and Staphylococcus is the fact that one is catalase positive (Staph) and the other is negative.
The sibling slapped me the other day for the first time in her life and I can tell that she felt good .. all the years of pent up rage expressed in four/five consecutive slaps and not getting a single blow back ALWAYS does the trick .. one of these days, I might blow and bomb my workplace and my home, then flee this country, move to Russia and write a novel.
Yes!
Gibbard is so annoying .. I hate him .. I hate him .. yet .. yet .. I love him .. I love Arnold .. hehehehehehehe .. I love Helga too ..
If I was sober, I would never have taken MICR3081. This week is mid session break week and I'm at uni from 9 AM - 6 PM (with an hour break in between for lunch, which I'm not utilising to eat lunch .. for reasons unknown) doing lab work - swabbing Horse Blood Agars and MAC plates and gram staining for rods and cocci.
What's so good about FaceBook?
Sports-fanatics make me giggle and laugh .. I don't understand you people .. infact I can't understand passionate people altogether, including religious fanatics, anti-sex fanatics, sex fanatics, pure scientists, pure/abstract mathematicians, musicians, elitist music-listeners, hard-core millionaire/billionaire businessmen, cleaning fanatics .. the list goes on and on.
Tired. Depressed. Hungry.
I want a martini for some reason and I have yet to fulfil my tasting of sake (Japanese rice wine .. the spelling is weird, so is the pronounciation). Back to the bacteria I go. The difference betweer Strptococcus and Staphylococcus is the fact that one is catalase positive (Staph) and the other is negative.
The sibling slapped me the other day for the first time in her life and I can tell that she felt good .. all the years of pent up rage expressed in four/five consecutive slaps and not getting a single blow back ALWAYS does the trick .. one of these days, I might blow and bomb my workplace and my home, then flee this country, move to Russia and write a novel.
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