pippa’s Neighborhood

Grandmas talk on their phone like they're crying bloody murder.

I was staring nonchalantly out the bus window when this woman's phone (opposite me) started ringing. I glanced at her lazily, not particularly caring about her as she fished her phone out. Nothing wrong with that. But then when she pressed the green button to let her call through, she yelled - quite literally too - into her phone. "WAI? HAI AH, NGOR LEI GUN LA". Needless to say, when she yelled, I almost jumped out of my seat. I instantly felt sorry for the other person on the other side of the line. This was not the only case. I had to go to Chi Fu, so I was waiting at the free shuttle bus stop. A grandma stood in front of me and her phone started ringing. Only having interest for myself, I ignored her, until she started screaming into her phone. "HAI, HAI - CHI FU YUM CHA MA!" Honestly, I just have to thank the Jedis that my grandma does not yell. She talks like a true normal human being. May the force be with her.

I have another story to tell. It's about my appointment at the hospital. I was waiting for the nurses to call my name, a little disgruntled from the heat. I obeyed like a good little girl, letting them note down my weight and height, and then I was called into Room Number 4. And then I had to flash my boobs to the nurse for the third time since they found out about my heartrate problem. But that's not my main story. The main one comes in the next paragraph.

After that, I was sent to do an x-ray in the main section of the hospital. So my mom and I ventured across to the main building and waited for the lift to take us to the second floor. When we arrived... nothing much really happened. Except for the fact that my imagination started working against me again, like it has whenever I had a nightmare or watched a horror film. The hallway of the hospital was dark and gloomy. Even though they had no visible dirt on the tiles, you could just tell they weren't clear. No worries though, none of the lights were flickering. Though I would have dumped my doctor's appointment and left straight away if there were. We registered for the x-ray by the window, where the woman gave me directions on how to go to the changing rooms and strip (again, *sigh*) and to put on this purple shirt. The moment I entered the tiny changing room, man, it reminded me of the game we played on my DS - where you were taken into the hospital... yes... Dementium. When I opened the doors of the changing room, I half-expected this mutated monster-zombie to attack me. Thankfully, it didn't.

Ask Nat if she felt like that during her stay in the hospital :D

It is a ninety nine point nine nine percent completely random title. The other zero point one percent being non-random is because I just ate watermelons. Yes, I dislike to use numbers for today's post because typing numbers annoys me, it destroys the whole precise and professional-ness of the post, despite me using a nonexistent word just now. Today was a fairly random day, just like my ninety nine point nine nine percent random title. Yes... it was a random day therefore you might see me insert random words into sentences, just to serve the purpose and stick with the theme.

I had diarrhea, and I mean really messed up (dur - diarrhea is messed up brown shit) diarrhea. I had it since Saturday actually, when I returned home from this almost all lamb feast. Who am I kidding? It's not really a feast. It was a collection of oil and fat-ass food which I didn't really enjoy. All the plates of food that came were stuffed with meat and overflowing with oil, like HK with black rainstorm, where the streets were flooded with brown and murky rainwater. It wasn't the lamb that gave me the diarrhea though. It was the killer dish that came after all lamb dishes.

It was... the yoghurt.

No, it's not the type of yummy fruity yoghurt you can buy from Park n' Shop. It's the type of yoghurt that gives you a bloody diarrhea. That's right, diarrhea. COME ON EVERYBODY, SING IT WITH ME! DIARRHEA - DIARRHEA! It came in a small tin bowl and for a second, I was freaked out, "holy shit! ejaculation!". I admit, I can be a bit of a sick bastard at times. The "e" word may have just proved it. I actually wasn't thinking of that in the restaurant, but I just wanted to add it there for fun. Anyway, it came in this tiny tin bowl, and everyone stared at it, thinking "man... is she really going to eat that shit?" I guess I really did.

I took a spoonful and man, it was totally like diarrhea yoghurt. It was dis-gus-ting. End of story. The taste is undescribable. It was so bad and ew and augh and ugh and nasty that it was undescribable. It was that bad. I suddenly lost my capability to speak. I just sat there in my chair, holding the spoon and stared at the small tin bowl with a disgusted look in my eye, on my face, on my whole entire body. My body language had put on a display to just how bad the yoghurt was. I would show you... but then, I would have to kill you...

...watermelons....

...such a meaningful title, ne? But this is not what this post is about. I just wanted to make my title look really deep and philosophical, which makes me sound smart. What is this post about, you ask? Well, I shall reveal it to you right now. My mom bought me my birthday present on her birthday. Deep, eh? This is much like Shakespeare's famous statement/question - To be or not to be. That is the question.

July 12th 2008 started at 11:43:12am for me. The moment I opened my eyelids, I could smell the fresh new day laid out in front of me, and all the greatness the world has instore for me. I got out of bed and cleaned myself up. Yes, cleaned myself out. YES, CLEANED MYSELF OUT!

            1. Exit bedroom door and enter the bathroom opposite your bedroom.

            2. Pick up your toothbrush and flick open the lid of the toothpaste.

            3. Squeeze the tube...

The first three instructions from "Sharon's Guide to Life". I apologize for the little insert - I just had to add it in. It's called self-promotion. Oh dear porcupine, I'm drifting away from the purpose of this long post. Anyway, after a refreshing wash, I had breakfast *fast forward* and then I received this phone call from a girl named Stefanie (I have no idea who she is... I thought she was promoting condoms at first, something about a "happy birthday condom" or something. The nerve of her!). Turns out I had no Chinese tuition - my teacher forgot she changed the time to 2pm. But anyway... *fast forward*

I watched as my mom fished out her wallet from her handbag. Everything around me suddenly slowed down... my heartrate increased to 400bpm... and the woman next to me whipped out a pistol and fired a shot at the other best assassin in the world who supposedly killed my da... *change channel*, my mom slid two $500 notes across the table and the man smirked, before sliding the suitcase of G-Virus... *change channel* and the man slid the two boxes of Guitar Hero 3 across the counter and INTO MY AWAITING HANDS.

And then I played.

and played.

and played.

and played.

and played.

and got hooked.

and played.

and played.

and refused to come out of my room day and night.

and i lied. statement above is false.

I have no idea why I'm writing in this blog, where I only have one potential reader - you know who you are, tampon girl. I mean, of course you do, you're the only one who reads what I write here. I have a feeling this post will be longer than the ones I usually have here so a pre-warning to you. Better press that ugly looking "back" button on the top left if you don't want to read any further. Don't say I didn't warn you, otherwise I will kick your ass when you come back. Mark my words... thou shall not... I should stop.

I went to the cinema today. Left the house at approximately 5 hours 13 minutes and 20 seconds (I made that up - shh). I took a minibus down and stopped by gates and walked down to the cinema located in Cyberport. We caught the 5.35 "Hancock". The movie was weird... I would go into a more in depth review of the movie, but I fear you will not understand my outrageously complicated and extensive vocabulary, that's why I shall spare you. I'm nice :D

My purpose of today's oh-so-mini blog is: my journey back home. That's right, my journey back home. Right now, a million thoughts must be running through your mind. "Her journey back home? Journey?" Yes, a journey! J - O - U - R - N - E - Y, what does that spell, kids? Yes! Journey! Or if you like, a trip, an excursion, a voyage... sorry, overtaken by the lovely world of English. Anyhow... so, what was so special about my journey? This word fits perfectly with my journey. Weird. Yes, a weird once-in-a-life-time journey.

So I was standing there all alone, waiting for a no. 28 minibus to come. And there it comes! I stuck out my beautifully thin arm -cough- and waited for the minibus to stop but guess what? It didn't and went straight on! So being a nice and well-mannered lady, I bit back all my biting remarks, all the swearwords I learned from my sophisticated friends - excluding you (I lie, I lie, you are smart) and both my middle fingers, I stood there. And then the weird thing started. A stranger (a female, to be exact), started talking to me. If you must know, it's an Indian lady. And yeah, so we had this whole awkward conversation about rude drivers, which turned into talking about the film, "Hancock". But that's not the weird bit...

What happened next was... (HOMAIGOD, SCARY SCARY SCARY!) Excuse me for my sudden outburst, my inner-me has malfunctioned. Anyway... so I got on the minibus quickly, paid the $1 fare and sat down, and then this random thought popped into my head suddenly. "What if Astrid was there when I got off the bus?". No, I don't see her when I get off the bus, if you were wondering. What happened was - someone suddenly tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around slowly and suddenly... I was attacked by this FACE, this FACE and then I heard a "SHARRRRON?". My heartrate suddenly escalated skyhigh. IT WAS ASTRID! AHHHHHHHHH, HALLOWEEN CAME EARLY!

And then I saw Ms Ho when I was waiting for the lift, blah blah blah blah blah. Curse my inability to stay focused. Heeeeeeeh.

Dugironkigow [Du·gi·ron·ki·gow]
   -noun

1. The new era of mutant ninjas.
2. A multi-hybrid animals consisting of a duck, giraffe, donkey, pig and a cow.
3. To call someone a crazy little retard.

Dugironkigowing
   -verb (used with a person)

3. To go hopping around aimlessly.

It's a rather nifty new word I, Sharon Lilian (See Long) Chan discovered.
I have a picture to accompany it but alas, my schedule is a bit too tight to allow
myself a free time slot to save it and post it up - which really just means I'm too lazy
to get my arse moving.

It is true, that people learn something new everyday.

Now, I hope you will pass on your knowledge to others and fully utilize this word to
its full capacity. I know you will be able to accomplish it! Go make your mark on the
world! Make me proud!