JUNE OH JUNE!

JUNE BLOODY JUNE!!

This month is definitely insane..

between the high-pressure deadline,

the lack of time (or my poor time management, to be honest)

the non-cooperative team,

and my obsession over every teeny tiny detail,

I'm screwed!! Pretty much.

The only three things that stop me from using my sharp pair of scissors to stab someone are praying, THE 2010 WORLDCUP, and the fact that my handsome boyfriend is coming at the end of the month!! WOOOHOOOOO!!!

WHAT FOLKS ARE MADE OF

What are little babies made of, made of?

What are little babies made of?

Diapers and crumbs and sucking their thumbs;

That's what little babies are made of.

What are little boys made of, made of?

What are little boys made of?

Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails;

That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of, made of?

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice and everything nice;

That's what little girls are made of.

What are young men made of, made of?

What are young men made of?

Sighs and leers and crocodile tears;

That's what young men are made of.

What are young women made of, made of?

What are young women made of?

Rings and jings and other fine things;

That's what young women are made of.

What are our sailors made of, made of?

What are our sailors made of?

Pitch and tar, pig-tail and scar;

That's what our sailors are made of.

What are our soldiers made of, made of?

What are our soldiers made of?

Pipeclay and drill, the foeman to kill;

That's what our soldiers are made of.

What are our nurses made of, made of?

What are our nurses made of?

Bushes and thorns and old cow's horns;

That's what our nurses are made of.

What are our fathers made of, made of?

What are our fathers made of?

Pipes and smoke and collars choke;

That's what our fathers are made of.

What are our mothers made of, made of?

What are our mothers made of?

Ribbons and laces and sweet pretty faces;

That's what our mothers are made of.

What are old men made of, made of?

What are old men made of?

Slippers that flop and a bald-headed top;

That's what old men are made of.

What are old women made of, made of?

What are old women made of?

Reels, and jeels, and old spinning wheels;

That's what old women are made of.

What are all folks made of, made of?

What are all folks made of?

Fighting a spot and loving a lot,

That's what all folks are made of.

Robert Southey (1774-1843)

Re: something special

dear errr..what's your name again?,

there you go again, nice touch with those songs and personal stuffs.. we thought you finally got tired or hit by a bus or something.. good to know you're alive, dear..

we're not gonna lie here, your emails did bug us at first..but now we simply see them as hilarious and quite entertaining.. it's amusing, really, to see how hard you're trying to piss us off.. your little evil mind must be getting a bit tired by now, no? we sincerely hope you haven't run out of ideas yet..

we'd like to thank you for sending us those "free entertainment", and basically for your existence , you know, give us something to laugh about since there's nothing good on tv these days.. your existence has also been a great reminder for us to be more grateful for everything we've got.. to be honest, we never truly realized before how lucky we are for having a healthy healthy healthy mind and emotions, unlike some people.. ;)

well, we think that's all we need to say to you.. looking forward to your next move, dear..

warmest regards,

nisa+fatwa

ps. oh by the way, we happen to know a really good shrink, like..a really good one! let us know if you need the number..you know, if somehow you ever get too depressed or have an urge to kill yourself or something like that..we'd be more than happy to help! ;)

the moment of truth

"Daydream delusion
Limousine eyelash
Oh, baby, with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusion angel
I'm a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
We have no idea where we're going
Lodged in life, like branches in the river
Flowing downstream caught in the current
I carry you, you'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?"

A very beautiful poem from one of my all time favorite movies, Before Sunrise.

--
Sent from my mobile device