This cantonese show is on now.
FUCKING KIDS WHO CAN'T HOLD A TUNE. In a singing competition.
And you thought The Ataris made my ears bleed.
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I hate the asshole who discovered China. Was it Marco Polo or Christopher Columbus? Anyway, both of them should die.
What?
Who said that?
They died already.
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OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS.
Hong Kong people can't sing. THEY CANNOT FUCKING SING NOR PRONOUNCE ENGLISH WORDS.
I'm really apologetic, Kavina, but the television programme that the useless old hag is watching happens to be of shitty quality. Hong Kong people in a singing competition. What the strawberry shortcakes were they thinking?!
SHUT UP ALREADY!
This programme has just made my pulse rate go (LUBDUB times 10456230855) beats per second.
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Yesterday, Laila, Maznah and I went to the RJ Open House. It was good. Much better than the lame Saint Andrew's Open House. Don't get me wrong, SAJC is very high up on my list. Let's just say 'run-down' is an understatement when it comes to describing the school.
We played basketball with a couple of RJ people. Nice people they were. After the game, I suddenly felt very much belonged. Maybe it's because I played basketball there. Two entire years of basketball every lunch and recess has indeed made the courts feel like home. Perhaps playing at the RJ courts evoked the same warm feelings.
Or maybe, it was just the sun.
