Hip hip hooray!
Two days to the Official Opening Performance.
The performance is okay, it's the fatigue that makes me whine alot & sleep at the back of the bus with peeps on the way back to school.
Gerek ah korang. Kan? Kan?!

Listen, friend. You don't go around say you got originality alright. Because we effing know your true self (a barf bag) and you are certainly a hypocrite. Feast it, stomach it. Like you always do.

Let me mention this too. Dude, reading your ex's messages in Friendster is over-rated. Face it, you can't get over your ex, alright. And don't say you're one kind of a socialite who's hungry for companionship. What are you? The next Paris Hilton?

And talking about whether my friend should go into a moshpit is indeed, unnecessary. Who's the big-fuck now?

P.s: Sorry people. These people (*whom I didn't mention their names to cover their brand-hunter ass, socialite ass & gig-goer-ass) just gets on my nerves. Stop thinking you're all that. Now hate-taggers, do your thang and demoralise me. It's classic.

Labels: Where no one even know.