LC-A

1. Robert Pattinson does not follow fashion trends, they follow him. But then he turns around and kicks their ass. Nobody follows Robert Pattinson.
2. Robert Pattinson can dazzle you with his eyes closed.
3. Robert Pattinson can make trees bend to him by *sparkling*.
4. Robert Pattinson doesn’t own a house, he walks into random ones and the owners are happy to leave.
5. The original plan for the first GPS system was to track Robert Pattinson’s every movement.
6. In Robert Pattinson, you can always find a party.
7. Weapons of mass destruction weren’t found in Iraq, they were found in Robert Pattinson’s pants.
8. The leading twinkle lights claim they can dazzle 99.99 percent of people..
9. Robert Pattinson can dazzle 100 percent of whatever the f*ck he wants.
10. When Robert Pattinson falls in water, Robert Pattinson doesn’t get wet. Water gets Robert Pattinson.
11. Robert Pattinson destroyed the periodic table, because he only recognizes the element of ~dazzle~.
12. Einstein’s original Theory of Relativity was; if Robert Pattinson ~dazzles~ you, your relatives will feel it.
13. Robert Pattinson killed Cedric Diggory
14. Robert Pattinson can turn back time.
15. Maslow’s theory of higher needs does not apply to Robert Pattinson. He only has two needs: ~dazzling~ people and finding people to ~dazzle~.
16. Robert Pattinson isn’t just Pretty in Pink, he is Mindblowing in Pink.
17. Robert Pattinson plays racquetball with a waffle iron and a bowling ball.
18. Robert Pattinson got a perfect score on his SAT’s, simply by writing Robert Pattinson for every answer.
19. Love stops in the name of Robert Pattinson.
20. If at first you don’t succeed, you’re not Robert Pattinson.
21. Robert Pattinson asked for a love song. Sara Bareilles wrote it.
22. Robert Pattinson can divide by zero.
23. Robert Pattinson can have his cake and eat it too, except he doesn’t like cake. Cake died from embarrassment.
24. Robert Pattinson knows the solution to global warming. He just won’t tell because he enjoys the sun -it makes him sparkle.
25. Robert Pattinson can’t speak french...just kidding.
31. Robert Pattinson brought sexy back.
32. If you spell Robert Pattinson in Scrabble, you win. Forever.
33. Robert Pattinson is not hung like a horse… horses are hung like Robert Pattinson.
34. Robert Pattinson once ate three steaks in an hour. He spent the first forty-five minutes having sex with the waitress.
35. There is no night and day. Only Robert Pattinson saying “lumos”
36. Robert Pattinson doesn’t bowl strikes, he just knocks down one pin and the other nine faint.
37. The light at the end of the tunnel is actually Robert Pattinson.
38. Robert Pattinson is never gonna give you up, Never gonna let you down, Never gonna run around and desert you

and for madah:

since zul posted this i started thinking how my family has a history of twins, mostly from ibu's side.

(1) there's of course arwah mak ngah and daddy, ibu's twin brother/sister.
arwah mak ngah didn't have any twins but her children did - so skip one generation lah tu.
arwah mak ngah and kak ikma in ipoh
no pictures of daddy but here's adam at 4 years old, arwah mak ngah's cucu who was named after her twin.


(2) ibu's youngest sister, my ucu, had twins. my cousins quraisya and miquail, otherwise known as chacha and a'el. they turn nine this year.

(3) arwah mak ngah's eldest daughter, kak ina, had twins. arwah mak ngah's the first of my mum's siblings to be a nenek. my niece and nephew, muhd arif zahran and nur ariffah zahrah. they're about seven or eight now.
(4) kak ina's brother, my cousin abg zaril didn't give birth to twins recently (his wife did. ok fine, lame.) i haven't got the chance to meet bayu zaril iman and cahaya zaril qaseh yet (considering they live an eight hour bus ride away) but just the pictures enough to melt me liao

and then of course there's...

If all Malay girls are Minahs by default, then are all Chinese girls Ah Lians by default too? Just a thought. Been reading too much of Minahspeak, pretty interesting read.

Man I miss this song. Reminds me of trips down to Sentosa in Year 2. Sigh. Now with my review - KWARNING.

( episode 26 )

Продам фотоаппарат Canon Sure Shot WP-1 Waterproof Camera с чехлом и батарейкой.

Картинки: http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=canon%20wp-1&w=all&s=int
Отличное состояние. Работает исправно.

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Нахожусь в Одессе, но отправлю куда угодно.
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+38(050)39два517один
Алексей.



( ____+++++____ )

Should I stay, or should I go?

Seafood's my ultimate favourite but I have to keep reminding myself to stay away from prawns. I know they are delicious but not when they bring me rashes everywhere. Since I ordered Seafood Platter for one, I requested for extra dory fish in exchange of the prawns. I love dory fish. They are heaven on earth. Oh the Philadelphia fish & chips (only serve at Paragon if I am not mistaken) is also too good to be missed. If you like cream cheese oozing out of your battered fish, that dish is meant for you.

I'm meeting a good friend in awhile for a No Pain No Gain experience. I hope I don't chicken out.

let me take you through what went on in my head:

 

band twiddles around with their instruments: shit, i need to pee in my pants. shit, i need to pee in my pants. shit, i need to pee in my pants. shit, i need to pee in my pants. shit, i need to pee in my pants.

music starts: oh hey. i need to fucking sing.

squeeks out the first few lines, audience cheers: oh hey! this isn't too bad.

yeah, yeah. i know i was pitchy. and i need a bloody haircut.

spiderwebs was fun. i so wanted to skank. and i tried to moonwalk. *sniggers*

 

dear fish and bapak budak,

if you're reading this, i dont think you would:

you both taught me that being an adult = being insensitive and unkind to others.

you taught me that you could speak to people any way you like.

that its okay to jump into conclusions, and not sort it out when there is a miscommunication.

the best thing to do is to ignore what is being said. and just stick to your perception of the event.

that its okay to discount people's pain and suffering.

that you should forget how hard it is to juggle schoolwork and curricular activities and friends and everything else.

that losing a friend is nothing. and you should 'DONT GIVE A FUCK' about a person who has just lost his/hers.

i could go on, but this baby has decided to be as grown up as you both are. and not give A FUCK anymore. :)

I was impartial to this place before belatedly falling in love with it sometime over the past couple of days. I was told that Scotland, in particular Edinburgh, is the kind of place that captures hearts immediately. It didn't capture mine through its usual arsenal of beautiful architecture and quaint side streets, not even the ones found along The Royal Mile, gorgeous though I acknowledged them to be. Instead, love for this place crept in through the most unlikely crevices of my heart, capturing me unwares for the most part. Oh, the littlest, littlest things. The smell of beer on warm breath. Eyes a startling colour of the deep ocean. A certain way of saying words.

Friday night I danced every dance of the Ceilidh for three hours straight, to the consequence of brutally overstrained calves that still lend a slight limp to my walk. No matter. I don't believe I've laughed and sweated and tossed my brown limbs and unruly black hair about like a newly freed pony that way before. By the time three hours was up, my face was flushed, my skin covered in a glistening layer of sweat, and my eyes aglow still with contained laughter. I danced with a man in a kilt! Except he isn't Scottish. He's Canadian and my tutor, but no matter. He didn't so much dance as fling me about like a rag doll; strength, and not gentleness, being his most exceptional quality that evening. But how I loved being lifted off the floor and flung about and dragged halfway across the room to the music of the violin and accordion! The second last dance includes a move that involves two couples embracing in a tight circle facing inwards. The men then lift the women off the floor and twirl in a circle as fast as possible, so the women fly off the floor. The overall result vaguely resembles the human equivalent of helicopter blades in motion. Among the four, I was the tiniest, and when embraced, was already lifted off the floor with no trouble at all, so you can imagine what fun I had flying off! I lifted my head back, let my hair toss all about, and laughed and giggled and squealed in giddy excitement.

The next morning, a few of us took the train up to Aberdeen, and spent the rest of the weekend in Aberdeenshire, driving through beauty herself. Our host, Andrew, a former boss and now close friend of an aunt of one of ours, owns Castle Hotel, located at the heart of Scotland's castle and whisky country. Everything we did that weekend was complimentary; from the beautiful family suite, the divine meals and the generous flow of drinks to the trips to the distillery, falconry and castle within the area. Half the time we wondered what we did to deserve it, because we didn't. Castle Hotel was too gorgeous for the likes of us embarassed freeloaders, any fool would have been able to see that. But the reason the place gained entry into the heart of my imagination, where all is at once muted but magnified, wasn't the furnishings; it was the people. The hospitality I encountered there dissolved all barriers to proper appreciation of my stay here, something the impressive architectural beauty of Edinburgh couldn't do. The host was a complete stranger just yesterday afternoon. This morning, when we were driven off, I was surprised to find that it was tears I was holding back as I gave him a kiss on his cheek and as much of a hug as I was able to give, wriggling through the back seat of the car to reach forward past the door. It's a charming place, one I am thoroughly in love with. The cheeky host and his lovely wife, who have been married for forty years and have never had an argument, their hilarious son with the glib tongue, the very bright, talkative daughter whose ex-husband owns the Dean's shortbread company and whose sandy-haired son, Will Dean, is ridiculously, outrageously cute, and the French waiter (what the heck he is doing all the way in Scotland is something I have yet to figure out) with the cuious English-French accent who positively blushed when a one-word answer to his query was answered back in his own at first incomprehensible accent.

Castle Hotel is charming and grand and quaint, but Andrew really has a way of making it feel like home. Using the word home evokes a form of return, a coming back to. Likewise, one day I hope to see again this place that feels like home, but only if the same people will be there then as they are now. Castle Hotel would only be half of what it is without their special brand of hospitality. People really make a place. I suppose you could say it is the land, with its inherent breathtaking beauty, and the people who inhabit this land, that my imagination is held captive by. 

Frank McCourt died 19 July 2009.



Angela's Ashes was a great book. What a great writer.