We know the WC is dirty. We know it's not fair. We know they are controlled games...
In any case, make an effort to make things appear to be more convincing to us fellow spectators. We are no passive stupid audience; we can judge; we know the Socceroos deserve to be in the quarter final; we know the Italians did not deserve that penalty kick; we know it was running out of time and there's no way the Italians could win besides being UNFAIR!
Yeah, I'm upset about the whole thing, yet I'm getting used to it after watching so many matches, so many WCs. Well, that's media sport, we'll all just have to live with it. Everyone inluding myself left the pub with angst and disappointment, nothing much we can do. I suggested to Bunna to write a petition letter (how naive can one be at times?)
I've always say these to people around me: the world's suppose to be unfair, life would be so humdrum if everything's fair, so expected. C'est la vie.
Had a heavy weekend, my pathetic liver was completely knackered. All the wine-sake-vodka-whisky-jagerbomb-cowboy-tequila-rathon in one night is not doing me good. The early mornings to take Karen shopping is not helping either. I've experimented and proven something once again - the only way to avoid hangovers is to stay drunk. It works, you'll have no better person to trust than myself.
Swan Lake on Ice was bad. It was actually caused by my over-expectations. You know how when one expects a lot then disappointment just hits you? Am sure you know, I don't have to elaborate on that. Anyways, none of them in Swan Lake were dancer, they were merely ice-skaters who can't even hold their dance positions right (yeah, am being harsh now).
Cars wasn't too satisfying either. It has a plot, fabulous animation, but it just wasn't funny enough for me. Maybe my migraine caused by my wet hair + cold wind was to blame. If they were to blame, then my laziness to blow dry my hair was to blame. If my laziness is to blame, my curls are definitely the culprit as a diffuser slows down the drying. In short, I'm the one who is to blame, I love my curls. Curls rock although I don't.
Sunday was fun. It has been proven that outing with June is always fun. But we've a new rule: June is to have only a bottle by herself and no other 'breed' of alcohol is to enter her tiny body.
Miss Cheong is a bad influencer. She made me shop and leave me with inadequate $$$ to live through my holiday. Nonetheless I'm absolutely thrilled, I love my new Mimco's, it's kinda-very me, no regrets to the fact that I'll have to resolve to economical dinings for the rest of this month, well... and next month too (I thought I gave up shopping for good food?)
And I've not gotten my pair of brown leather flat boots (I've gotten a pair of boots though); I've not gotten my black jacket (I've got leggings, bangles and scarves from Sportsgirl instead); I've gotten my bambi pendant, finally (as well as some impulse buys, darn!)
Talking about being focused, what's that again?
I'm hungry now, time for my Krispy Kreme, yummilicious...evilicious... where's my waistline? God...