Nah~AH FAHN! LAI

The Infamous Brownie Incident.

I'm sure everybody remembers a short and frantic post I made on November 5th; if you scroll down, you'll see it, as a matter of fact. It was typed from the depths of hell. I literally crawled to my computer just to make a last minute plea to the good people of the Internetsss. The suffering was indescribable, and it'll take all of my writing prowess to accurately describe the pain, but I'll try my best, still.

The brownie called out to me. "I'm chocolatey goodness and guilty-pleasure packed into a sumptuous rectangular package. Your tongue on my brown, I want your teeth to crush my nuts. I'm yours, Raymond," As the brownie sat on the table, half-eaten, I noted, I drooled.

It was freaky; but it was the hours of mugging that had done it for me. It was a Friday, and the next Monday, the O-level Papers will begin. Social Studies came in first, and that, as we all now, requires mugs of mugging, and mugs of coffee. I was delirious and needed sleep, but as I so often told Delise whenever she whined about wanting to sleep, the mantra I called forth was "You can sleep all you want AFTER the O-levels" (Some bullshit this is turning out to be; I've got black eye-rings!).

My judgement was abit fucked; the line of right and wrong were...blurred. What's the point of having a line...when it's not clear? Yeah, in my mind, I weighed the pros and cons.

Pros:
-I'm hungry.
-I deserve it.
-As for nutritional pros, there were none, but that's the point of the brownie; it was a dessert. I'd already eaten a full-meal, and was satisfactorily (word-existance check?) nourished; there was no point in the brownie. But that's the point. O.o.
-The brownie was so good-looking; delicious-looking; so...brown...and smart...I'm talking about the brownie, not me by the way. I can read minds, and I know some have made the obvious connections. How smart a brownie can be...who nose?

Cons:
-I ran out of pros :(.

God knows how long the brownie had been on the table, but it mattered little. I took it in my hands, and savoured all 5 seconds of eat (pun!). I felt the rumblings of a storm in my stomach, but I dismissed it. I dismissed too, the pros and cons of brownie-eating I had summoned; the pros and cons of the Welfare State bore more importance, though geographically, Britain is like a gajillion tinymeteres away, and the Welfare State is so passe. Thankfully, it's being taken out of the syllabus; they're studying terrorism! iRaq!

That was Friday. Without problems, I continued studying.

The next day, the 4th was my youngest brother's birthday. It's a family tradition, that even if we don't go to church for EVERY SINGLE SUNDAY of the year, we go to the church on our birthday. The church my mum patronised was Carmelite Monastery, at Bukit Teresa Road...'nuff said. Anyways, Delise's house was just up the street of Carmelite, so I tagged along. My plan dictated I go to church with my Mum and bro, and then have breakfast with Delise. I love how life plants strange coaccidents which makes life so much more convenient. If only life did it more often, but it doesn't, so the Earth Sucks. Gravity is a pigment of your imagination.

Anyways, as I waited for Delise to come down, the storm went berserk. *Gurgle*; acids I once knew by name reacted in my stomach...STOMACH ACHE! Frantically, I searched for the nearest toilet, and there I relieved myself, and trust me, you don't want me to go there (the desciption of my business, I mean). I did it at the hawker centre toilet, and that was shit (ahem). I had tissue with me; the day before I bought tissue from one of those ladies who sell tissue for money.

Instant Karma! Avada Kedavra!

While waiting for Delise (girls always take a long time to prepare, thank god I bought chem FYS to do), I actually went to the toilet two more times. I had the feeling I should have gone home, but as you can read from Shalina's and Delise's, I was to celebrate my youngest brother's birthday at Escape. I owed it to him, I thought.



The rest of the day passed, and I never went to the toilet again, if only to do my hair. I thought there was no more stomach ache. But the next day told me a war was being waged. In my stomach. A Stomach War.

Gasp.

The next day, I woke up at 4 in the mornin, sweating bullets. If you gathered the bullets, I would have filled a bucket. Hence, I was sweating buckets. The toilet was my source of relief. I RAN. And I exploded. That's enough of an information, I think? Oooh, and I vomitted too. It was a nasty combination, the nastiest possible.

By 10 in the morning, I was in hell. I ate my breakfast, and it exitted through one of two ways; conventional and non-conventional, ugly and uglier. My mother then brought me to the doctor.

"My O-levels is tomorrow; give me the fastest way to cure a killer Stomach Ache and horrendous Retching,"

"Injections".

I really shouldn't have. I expected pills; but not injections! You get injections for immunisation, and operations! It wasn't THAT serious...wait a minute, the O-level was the NEXT day, so maybe it was that serious! Quick, stab me with a needle, but make sure it's new, because I don't want AIDS!

You won't believe where I was jabbed. I was jabbed on the butt. On both sides of the butt. It didn't hurt much, or maybe my butt is just tough/tuff. The Doctor put two plasters on it, so my butt looked like this -(-. I swear; I would have taken pictures, but let's keep this blog kiddie friendly. I don't want to turn anybody into lesbians. For goodness sake, my butt looked like this:

-(- or -)-

Two slitty eyes with one gigantic nose.

I went home, but I still feel like shiat, shattered. I couldn't sit down. No food stayed inside me for too long; it was absolute horror. You could actually tell what I ate from what I vomitted. "Oooh...looks! Capsicum!" Even drinking water was a chore; but my mommer (mommy+mother=mommer) force-fed me. Agh. I hated it. I could barely study for the remainder of the day; and the exam was the NEXT day. I wasn't really worried, because I was prepared, but last minute effort is effort is effort is effort and it counts and it counts and it counts.

I got an MC, and that would be submitted along with my paper. The marker will take it into consideration, or so I was told. Hopefully, it may be a repeat of Stamford (230+ to 250+ WTFTW!); since I was an ex-Stamfordian...that jusssst might be the case; maybe; if I pray...HARD.

I recovered on Tuesday, but I had two tests on Monday so :\. But still, thanks to all those who actually prayed for me, and for my Mommer, who let me take a cab to and from school. Special thanks to Delise for being so supportive throughout. I love her, and no amount of tinymetres could seperate our hearts. <3>.

And that was it; the Brownie.

On other news,

Beware those who can't plonounce plopelly. I mean no offence to the Japanese people; in fact, I worship whatever crap they produce. However, that doesn't stop this few strips from being funny. Not racially funny, but...they-were-g-strings funny. Click here; the first page shows a how-to-speak-Chinese for American soldiers, "waw~UH SHER! nee~EE DEE PUHNG yee~OH" means "I am your friend". And I am your friend. For life.