After seeing Wendy Cheng's blog (you know, the world-famous http://xiaxue.blogspot.com - best Asian blog of 2004, ok!) I have become damn depressed at having such a small readership; I now vow to revamp my blog (eventually) and put in lots of awesome anecdotes about my super-exciting (at least, according to some of the rumours that have been going around) life and also many pictures of myself (dutifully photoshopped to make me look awe-inspiring and super bad ass). When this will actually happen is, well, anybody's guess. Eventually, though, my blog will shoot lasers and fly and also transform into a giant robot, and everyone who looks at it will be blinded for five seconds then go,'waaahhh!!! this guy is a super bad ass!' and then they will be addicted and read it all the time, and I will be a blogging super star like Cheng Yan Yan. Awesome!
In other news, I smoked my first cigarette since Saturday, and, to be honest, I feel a little sick now. I know, it's damn un-badass to be sick from one cigarette, right? But then again, I've come to realize that it's even more badass to kick an addictive habit like smoking ciggies. I imagine that come next tuesday (projected date of my last cigarette), I will take out the cigarette, smoke it in a business-like manner, and then say bye bye to nicotine and be smoke free for life; the dialogue will go like this (yes, my smoking habit can talk; I'm just that sort of guy):
Me: Ok smoking habit, you make me sick. I feel sick already. I think I'm damn smelly. I'm going to take a shower now. Get the fuck out of my life.
Smoking Habit (SH): But...what about all the good times we had?
Me: I was deluded. And impressionable.
SH: Don't lie; you felt damn good and you know it. You'll never feel that way about another substance again, you know.
Me: WAH!!! You're damn full of yourself ok? Let me ask you - I spend all this money on you, visit you every day, clean up after you, etc etc - when is the last time you did something for ME?
SH: Just think of all the cool people you got to know through me, all the long nights I kept you company through, all the times you were alone and nobody wanted to be your friend; I WAS YOUR FRIEND, I MADE YOU LOOK COOL.
Me: Maybe so, but did that really make me happier? All it made me was smellier; I'll admit I met a couple cool friends through you, but then, what about all the cool people I didn't meet because they thought I was a smelly SOB?
SH: LIES!!! LIES!!!
Me: Calm the fuck down, bitch.
SH: YOU NEED ME!
Me: No I don't, it's over.
SH: HEY I DIDN'T COME TO YOU ANYWAY! YOU CAME TO ME, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAME TO ME!!! AND YOU'LL COME CRAWLING BACK BECAUSE YOU'RE WEEAAKKKK!!! (my smoking habit starts laughing hysterically and jumping about like Lady Macbeth when she goes crazy)
Me: That's it. Get the fuck out. (I go into bow stance and punch my smoking habit in the face, and when it tries to claw my eyes, I block, and then SPEAR it in the cheebye and throw it out the window, in all it's foil-covered glory)
SH (as it falls down my window): YOU LOVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (SH falls against the sidewalk and explodes into a million tiny bits. Beggars walking by pick up tiny bits and ask passerbys for lighters, then smoke all the tiny bits and eventually die of lung cancer. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.)
Me (dusting myself off): That's right, bitch.
Oh, what a glorious day.
In other news, I smoked my first cigarette since Saturday, and, to be honest, I feel a little sick now. I know, it's damn un-badass to be sick from one cigarette, right? But then again, I've come to realize that it's even more badass to kick an addictive habit like smoking ciggies. I imagine that come next tuesday (projected date of my last cigarette), I will take out the cigarette, smoke it in a business-like manner, and then say bye bye to nicotine and be smoke free for life; the dialogue will go like this (yes, my smoking habit can talk; I'm just that sort of guy):
Me: Ok smoking habit, you make me sick. I feel sick already. I think I'm damn smelly. I'm going to take a shower now. Get the fuck out of my life.
Smoking Habit (SH): But...what about all the good times we had?
Me: I was deluded. And impressionable.
SH: Don't lie; you felt damn good and you know it. You'll never feel that way about another substance again, you know.
Me: WAH!!! You're damn full of yourself ok? Let me ask you - I spend all this money on you, visit you every day, clean up after you, etc etc - when is the last time you did something for ME?
SH: Just think of all the cool people you got to know through me, all the long nights I kept you company through, all the times you were alone and nobody wanted to be your friend; I WAS YOUR FRIEND, I MADE YOU LOOK COOL.
Me: Maybe so, but did that really make me happier? All it made me was smellier; I'll admit I met a couple cool friends through you, but then, what about all the cool people I didn't meet because they thought I was a smelly SOB?
SH: LIES!!! LIES!!!
Me: Calm the fuck down, bitch.
SH: YOU NEED ME!
Me: No I don't, it's over.
SH: HEY I DIDN'T COME TO YOU ANYWAY! YOU CAME TO ME, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAME TO ME!!! AND YOU'LL COME CRAWLING BACK BECAUSE YOU'RE WEEAAKKKK!!! (my smoking habit starts laughing hysterically and jumping about like Lady Macbeth when she goes crazy)
Me: That's it. Get the fuck out. (I go into bow stance and punch my smoking habit in the face, and when it tries to claw my eyes, I block, and then SPEAR it in the cheebye and throw it out the window, in all it's foil-covered glory)
SH (as it falls down my window): YOU LOVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (SH falls against the sidewalk and explodes into a million tiny bits. Beggars walking by pick up tiny bits and ask passerbys for lighters, then smoke all the tiny bits and eventually die of lung cancer. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.)
Me (dusting myself off): That's right, bitch.
Oh, what a glorious day.
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