this was no chicken. this was evil manifest.

I cried "corn beef" in a demonic voice in front of people I'd just met. If that tells you anything about me...
Other than that, the name is Nabilah Johari who goes by her days embarrassing friends with her shameless antics.

OH BLOODY @*#&#^&$^%%

Wednesday, October 17, 2007 2:12 PM

I feel nauseous.
I shouldn't have eaten too much noodles no matter how good it was. Damnation, I need to go to rehab. I'm dangerously addicted to noodles. Dammit, even most the words start with "I". No creativity, no fluo...something.

Oh did I mention Maths is an inanimate object that could braincells and stunts its flourish? No, well it is.

AS was easier than the MPR papers, surprsingly. As for now I would like to bludgeon mine head against a spiky hard thick wall ~~badly~~ softly. It's stupid how sometimes when you think you can never achieve something, in actual fact it can be a;slskdjffhgdfricken achiiiieeevvaabbllleee. Wait, no. Not stupid, it's plain annoying and irritating.

If I ~~cram~~ ~~study~~ ~~cram~~ ...studied at the very last minute I could've answered the three questions I didn't answer.
If I insisted myself more into doing what I was suppose to do, I wouldn't be caught in the middle of some awkward heartrendering situation.

...I knew that thing was some sort of a twisted bad omen.

My right big toe had suffered enough. I hit it twice - once against the door sill and twice the hem of a wall - and I find it to be a miracle that it didn't swell up like balloon with blood oozing digustingly out of the little punctured hole.

Oh oh during breakfast I was all alone partly eating, partly blogging I looked up and a swoosh of black that suspiciously looked like a head swiftly ran or flew behind the white wall.

I figured that it was the nieghbour's maid. But the thing was... fast, and it didn't bob up and down like someone walking, it just swooshhed. Or maybe that could be a progression of my braincells depleting.

After Maths exam, mom picked me up, went to Gadong, aaand hunted for some house thingies. I've been hinting her explicitly about how much I wanted soto - soto for now and for tomorrow's occasion since them GDLS might come over - but my mom said no. Darn. Once again my simple wish to eat soto is... rejected.

Desire had sunken deep in me, then desperation takes place. I neeeeedd bloody neeeeddd noodles. Any type. ANY TYPE.

Then I comforted myself pathetically with Baso' instant cup noodle, then cried 'cause I wanted to feel the slippery delicious texture of noodles inside my mouth. Savouring every take in and out, in and out. Then hiss in pain when the heat becomes too hot for my mouth.

OH BLOODY DAMN THAT WAS A COMPLETELY ORGIFIED PARAGRAPH UP THERE. But really, it was unintentional. I really felt that way but the message given was... so wrong.

Please do not leave comments of how you got turned on or how your ovaries went overdrive. PLEASE. I want this blog to be children friendly. (hits the edge of a wall again) OH YOU BLOODY FUCK MOTHERFUDDER @#$%^&!@#$^%$#!!

Ow bloody fucken Mary, till then kiddies, don't take out any cuss words from this blog. If you do, don't say it's from my blog, just tell your parents you got it from excessive watching of 50cents music videos. Orr some other black rappers.

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