27 February 2008

I. Hate. The. Ringing. Sound. Of. The. Fucking. Telephone.

(So I guess it's a good thing I don't have a hand phone. Yet.)

Not that I don't appreciate that we don't need to send a pigeon just because we want to exchange some news.

So, the story.

I was napping, and suddenly the phone rang. First thing, we have a stupid, useless, and rude maid who doesn't know how to pick up a phone, and the caller will probably be frightened to death by the sound of my maid's disgusting voice IF she picked up the phone.

"Itu lo Miss." What the hell is lo. Miss. Miss. Miss. I feel like socking her in the mouth.

Second thing, we have nobody else except me who could pick up a phone before it stopped ringing. My mom was out. My dad was out. So I had to roll out of the sofa and pick up the fucking phone.

Fine. Back to sleep.

After some time, the fucking phone rang again. I woke up again. I couldn't stand it anymore so I just ignored it. And it finally stopped. Hah. RIGHT. Within minutes, it was ringing again.

And I don't know why but my grandma. She saw me sleeping like a fat, drooling pig. And the phone has been ringing for like ages and since I made no intentions on picking up the phone, why couldn't she pick it up?? Instead she let the phone rang, rang and rang. And thus ....

I had enough. So I just woke up, threw the cushions, threw my book, stamped my feet, shouted, no, practically screamed "Fuck!!!!!" then I stomped off. And yeah, the phone was still ringing. I just ignored it. And honestly, I couldn't care less. I know I'm a damn selfish brat who only cared about myself. But helloooo?? Would YOU like to be interrupted so many times when you were sleeping??

I was so tired, I just wanted a good sleep and I got rewarded with not one, not two, but three phone calls in a row. Why?? Now I am wide awake, in quite a good mood, and sitting still, ready to pick up the phone whenever it rings. And for hours already and not once, take that, NOT ONCE DID THE FUCKING PHONE RANG. Why must it wait until the exact moment when I wanted to sleep?? Why???!?!

And you know, the phone was for my grandma. The caller probably asked why nobody picked up the phone. And oh, the whole story came pouring out from my grandma's mouth.

That, is what I call fucking KAYPO.

What the fuck??

If it was me I'd just say that I was sleeping, sorry. And she's got to pour out the whole damned story about how the first time I picked up the phone I was already so annoyed, then the second time I ignored it, and the third time I did wake up but then I stomped off without picking up the phone.

What, is she going to write an article and post it up to the Star paper next???

I was in a super duper ultra foul mood. This time, no. No. No more rude words coming out from my mouth. Earlier I decided to calm down, and I washed my face thoroughly. Then I walked over to the computer. I couldn't help but heard the things she said. Then I just said, "I hate this house" and walked away hugging my beloved pillow.

):

I HATE, HATE, HATE people telling people what I did. No matter how terrible it was.

Whattt??!?!?!

She even stood up and was like, trying to hide the fact that she was talking about me. Like she was doing the most guilty thing alive which make me feel even more furious. If she never stood up I wouldn't have cared. Wouldn't have cared that much anyway.

Shucks. She'd probably thought I was going to stay in the dining room forever and not come over so she could talk about me. Right??!?!?!

Whatever that's supposed to mean.

I only hope she wasn't talking about me then I could delete this rude, beastly and angry post.

Fat chance.

Once, a long, long time ago, my mother told all my cousins that .... *takes a deep breath*

I AM TURNING BAD, TAKE NOTE : BAD, JUST BECAUSE I APPLIED SILVERY PURPLE NAIL POLISH ON MY TOENAILS.

(What the fuck is wrong with nail polish?? (And contact lens??!?!?) Someone tell me?!? Hah. Not that I cared, I still applied it anyway, if she wants to blab about how I'm turning bad just because I put on nail polish to all my cousins, so be it.)

And that was when I burst. Inside me anyway. How could I burst in front of my huge family of cousins?? If I remembered it correctly, we were at the beach. They'd probably just push me into the sea right at the spot. And no, I couldn't swim.

What if one day I turned into a smoker. What's that, huh?? Turning GOOD?? Or turning to the path to my deathbed? (which is slightly true anyway)

So. Sorry for my blabbing.

Don't, and I mean DON'T, just simply tell stories about me. Whether it's true or false, just don't. I hate it. I HATE it.

Unless if it's like totally necessary. Maybe, I stole a pen from the bookshop. Well, just tell the teacher, headmistress, police, whoever, step by step on how I managed to steal a pen from the bookshop.

That, I wouldn't have minded.

Because I'm going to get arrested anyway.

Just because I didn't pick up the phone ....

Okay, fine. I'm going to do my essay. Anything to prevent myself from thinking about this stupid thing which you might think is not stupid at all.

* Go Back *