I would have finished watching season 6 of friends right at 9. But you see, I had to start playing the disc all over again and find the chapter of where I last stopped. All because the disc is badly scratched. I don't know if it's just me being damn ngada-ngada nak mampos or what, but I don't understand how people watch dvd and have scratches, handprints and whatever stains you can possibly think of, left on the disc. The worst thing is, it's not even a private property. Hey, if it's yours, by all means, scratch it, shit on it. But rental discs belong to the shop. It's just as good as borrowing a book from a library or anything from anyone for that matter. You don't borrow someone else's belonging and leave curry stains on it, good grief.

So my point is, I could, would and should have finished season 6 at 9.

Okay, you know what?

Since I'm at it, I might as well let everything out. But first, if you find that I have a blood of a bitch and that nothing can please me, there's always the x on the top right hand corner. This is my blog and I'm only exercising my prerogative.

There's nothing in this world that I find more annoying than people who always have to get on other people's last nerve. It's preposterous how some expect others to always be on stand by, hoping that by some miraculous chance, others would have the luxury of time and would be willing to cater to their every whim and fancy. Ohh but when others just need to ask a question that would probably take what, 10 seconds of their oh-so-precious life, they come up with a thousand and one excuses (I couldn't help but exaggerate the magnitude of the situation).

Why are some people like that?

Or is this just an excuse for me to grind my pitchfork, yet again? Am I that impossible to please? But I'm thankful nonetheless, for avenues like blogger and such, for it provides me a medium to channel and vent all my frustration. That includes my resentment for some of the human habits that to me are rather disconcerting. Like for instance, Singaporean women's disability in pee-ing quite accurately without making a mess. Okay at this point, the entry becomes completely pointless.

Anyhow, I don't know what I'd do without blogger. My temper, my anal-retentiveness and the raging, dire urge to slap whoever I find annoying may probably be exacerbated if I haven't found blogger.

Blogger, my hero.

Okay, I should publish this post already.

Kwinella @ 11:19 PM!



Kwinella @ 1:00 AM!

Kwinella @ 1:01 AM!

And we're back on the topic of toilet etiquette.

I've had it till *here* with women who are possibly or/and completely bereft of sense of direction and hence the lack of capability to pee properly without leaving traces everywhere.

If you are one anal-retentive woman like some of us are, the least you can do is cover the seat with toilet paper or *drumroll* toilet seat cover to prevent bacteria and germs from multiplying on/in your vital areas. Yes, there is such a thing called toilet seat cover for those not in the know. Never, and I have been reiterating, NEVER squat on the seat. You want to squat? Use cubicles which are meant for squatting.

If you happen to leave traces of your excretion on the toilet seat, please, please wipe it off with the toilet paper provided. You know, you can always clean and sanitise your hands with water and soap after that. You do know that you have to that anyway, yes?

If you're having that time of the month and you really have to change in public toilets, for the sake of all mankind, dispose it discreetly and properly. We really do not appreciate soiled napkins left out in the open, on the lid of the bin, thank you very much. Some of you may cringe and gag at this juncture but some of us are really that witless and inconsiderate.

Last but definitely not the very least, for the love of life, please flush.

Thank you very much.

Kwinella @ 2:38 AM!

I'm home and it feels damn good.

For the uninitiated, I was away in Negri Sembilan Darul Khusus busy gorging myself with food. I cannot say that I had a ball there nor am I going to lie through my teeth about the food. The truth is, I can cook better. Betul, bukannya aku nak ngada-ngada or what. ohhhh ohhh but I can say that I had the best teh tarik, ever! The best teh tarik, according to me, can be found in Tiara Beach Resort. hur hur hur.

The weather, Alhamdulillah, was kind to us, although some of us here may beg to differ. *snigger*

We were on the train homeward bound this evening and throughout the journey, I couldn't help but laugh each time the person who announced the arrival of the train at every station translates the announcement in English. No doubt that my English is sometimes very koyak despite the very fact that I teach the language, but his mispronounciation of "alight" and "done" tickled me to the core of my soul. Even my dad laughed, okay. I wasn't the only mean one.

Anyway.

I hate how I was disgruntled whenever I found anything that didn't quite meet my expectation. I hate how I sounded like a spoilt brat whenever I grumbled about the bland pasta and biryani. It could be that I expect some standards to be met or that I have always been partial towards my homeland. Either way, it's unbecoming. But you know, if you call yourself a resort or a hotel, there are bound to be expectations. Otherwise, it's a different story altogether.

But nevermind. I guess I could learn to shut up and be rid of any expectation the next time I go on a trip, which would be in the very distant future. Now that I'm back and done with setting of paper 1, yaaaay. To people who are expecting souvenirs, I hate to break your heart but I am afraid we didn't do any shopping. It was that laidback of a holiday.

Back to school tomorrow.

Kwinella @ 6:29 AM!