happy 37th, Ravi.
you remind me of what’s most important in my life. i pray you’ll live to a ripe old age so that one day, you’d finally let me show you the kind of delish beta-carotene lovin’ that carrots can give (especially with tuna dip). may your bank accounts grow fatter so you can enjoy more out of life (especially when you witness the sheer joy on my face when i buy a jewel-studded toilet seat for your tush). experience (continued) immeasurable and unimaginable happiness (after the pain i inflict upon you). oh, and perhaps grow an imbecile repellent within the year and maybe, just maybe, on your 60th birthday, you’ll cave and confess that yes, stars really are God’s poop-in-shining.
today, it’s all about food, the fuel of life.
but first i must confess that i had a serving of fries last night because i am not a profligate (because if you do not use that Word of the Day, a dictionary.com clerk will become a suicide statistic) who throws out leftovers.
- weight: 70kg
- breakfast: weetabix with chocolate in low fat milk (apparently low fat dairy may cause fertility issues, eck!)
- lunch: strips of 1 wholemeal bread slice + foul medamas
- dinner: steamed jasmine rice + sambal ayam + stir fried french beans/cabbage/carrots
- dessert: 1 entire butter mint
- burned: 25 calories from chewing
has anyone seen this Mother of a burger?
it’s almost as unreal as the stuff i dream of. dreamed i was married to a skinny, scrawny Chinese fella and i was so unhappy, i had to excuse myself from the dinner table at a place that looked like the Madinat Jumeirah, then cry in the toilet. it was a marriage match-made by my parents. it’s so out of this world. i’ve never dated a Chinese fella and there’d be no chance in hell my parents would have match-made me with anybody, ever. and the guy was trying so hard to please, i didn’t want to break his heart. he bored the living canoozels out of me.
i hope Ravi comes back from Abu Dhabi soon because i just cannot handle anymore dreams of sub-standard, boring life partners with crooked teeth and flyaway hair.
i had thoughts of surprising Ravi in Abu Dhabi with the following Moist Devil’s Food Cake in a little pink dress with a black bow across the empire line today, but that was not to be. i’ll do it with just a black bow when he comes back this weekend. wishing i had the Naughty Knot right now.
i want to put my face into this Banana-Maple Tarte Tatin and never have to remove myself from the heavenly joy that is Banana-Maple.
the Taurus’ Achilles heel – gimme food anytime, i’ll give up the spy so you can torture him in secret prisons all over Europe while i savour every bite.
my salivary glands are squirting in every direction just looking at half these food blogs online. think i’m gonna do 90 minutes on the treadmill tomorrow.
when the clock struck 0001 on Wednesday, i was already on timeouttickets.com to get tickets to Russell Peters. despite being one of the first kiasu ones there, it took me another 45 minutes of clicking the mouse every 2 minutes to reload the page before i finally succeeded in getting tickets. you know, if you’re gonna mass email the entire Emirati population about releasing tickets to a second show of a sold-out set at 0001, you gotta make sure you’ve the resources to cope with the number of people who are all out to score a ticket at exactly 0001.
so okay, before i leave to contemplate the future of humanity, i’ll leave you with a couple more links. if you wanna help supply basic needs to developing countries, you might want to buy this t-shirt from HIDO. my obsession of the day is the following artpiece. i love trees.
and the I-Don’t-Know-About-That object of the day is this. i think a good whack with a roll of newspapers or Ravi’s shoes is good enough. what next? a USB bra-warmer?