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Friday, 29 July 2011
forever young
So...I think my life just went from unfair to detrimental when I discovered this little tot sensation today. Thylane Lena-Rose Blondeau is only 10 years old!! 10?! Are you fooking kidding me. That's not even funny. She's got a future ahead of her judging by her shots and by the time she grows into her body, she'll be modelling for the big dogs and I can claim that I knew about her since she was 10. I'm starting to sound like a white van driving creep now so I'm out.
Peace out!
Thursday, 21 July 2011
ambition to create novel expressions
Guess who just came out with their SS12 preview?! Acne! Love the outerwear and the colour palette. You see, living in Melbourne makes you think you're living in a black abyss of dull designs and colours. We Australians are all jaded and like I've said before, we're hit with the shit stick. They're aren't as many labels here and that's why when we even see an ounce of an international label (i.e. Zara), we scream like a 15 year old girl being chosen for Justin Bieber's love song dedication. Sure, I'm not denying I got excited for Zara. Yes I'm one of those girls and yes, I peed my pants a little. But in the future, to avoid reactions such as these (and ultimately another Nigella Lawson incident: refer to Nigella post), bring more labels down under. Please do it to shut me up and stop me from complaining.
Anyway, after saying all that, there is an Acne down here so let's just all pretend you weren't listening to me.
P.S. google lesbians that look like Justin Bieber, it's funny.
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
..but we still had fun
So we went on a tour with an Vietnamese tour company and needless to say, this made me want to neck myself. From the pace (we were touring with 80 year olds in wheelchairs) to the language barrier, this group was like looking at the travelling Chinese circus with cameras around their necks. I looked like a black sheep in a field of albino cows. This one man, in particular, seemed to resort to wetting himself rather than finding a toilet because his bladder didn't permit. Needless to say, I was not his travelling companion.
We went to 5 countries: Paris, Italy, Belgium, Holland and Germany. They were all nothing short of spectacular, but to be brutally honest, Germany scared me quite a bit. And it all boiled down to this one female bus driver. She was a bit of a sour puss and this was evident when I woke up to her screaming in my face. Hang on, what? Rewind 2 hours. We were on our way to Munich city centre when I started to dose off. Yeah, that's normal. However, what's not normal is waking up in a bus depot by yourself 20 kilometers outside of Munich. So turns out my family pulled a Home Alone stunt on me and left me on the bus with this man of a woman screaming at me in German. I was scared she was going to eat me so I just sat there and sobbed quietly. Never again..
It's pretty funny thinking about all the effed up situations that I was in over in Europe, but that's what made it one of the best family holidays I've ever been on. My family's closer and yet, we all hate each other more. I can't explain it, but, it was an experience. And one that I hope I remember for a long time (Nga certainly has enough developed photos to make me remember). As much as I love to pay my mum out, I love the little Hitler. She made me, and now she has to deal with me, and so for that, I salute her, and wish her luck. God knows, she'll need it.
So from Europe, the Adam's family (i.e. mine), flew over to Vietnam where we saw the grandparentals. Love Vietnam, got nothing against it...but when you block Facebook, you're not only screwing me over, you're screwing yourself over. Not cool. So this was my holiday rant. I'm pretty disturbed after this trip...and now you all know why.
family holiday from hell
So I have no idea where to start. Let me begin by explaining the titles, although it was probably one of the best holidays I have been on, certain moments promoted this holiday to the best and the worst family getaway ever. You couldn't even call it a "getaway" per se, more like a punishment that is geographically and economically impossible to escape from.
Now, I say economically for 2 reasons:
1. My parents had all the money, and boy did they let me know that everyday.
2. The tables inevitably turned on the two Asian Hitlers when our credit cards all got cancelled for being used in a foreign country without the bank's awareness. Thank you credit fraud detector! Son of a bitch.
So now that I have established the situation, we can move on. This all happened on the first day in Paris which was alas, the first day in Europe. So no credit card, no money, no honey. So moving on, not only did the credit card cancellations cock block us from shopping in later countries (i.e. Italy), it added to my parents' delightful moods...nawt. I think I saw a new side to my mum this trip, almost like I had killed her favourite son (i.e. my brother), and hid him under her sheets.
I told my dad on the last day of the trip that I was going to practice how to put on my shoes and start up my car the quickest in the family so I could be the fastest at running away from my mother whenever she went postal. Postal isn't good. You don't want to see a person go postal, nor do you ever want to experience it. This was my mother everyday overseas. Australia fricken' Post.
So being the favourite child I am, I decided to annoy her more by photo bombing every. single. one. of. her. photos. Now back in My Tho, mum's hometown reppin', Nga was notorious for her photos. Not in a good way. Hell no. Girls at the developing stations would leg it 5 miles up the road if they saw her coming with her memory cards. It was like the Apocalypse was approaching, and it was comin' real quick. So in doing so, my mum hated me just that little bit more. It brought me sick forms of joy every time I ruined a photo, but it filled my heart with inexplicable happiness.
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