*** on the beach

I was fed up with the bad photos that were captured and developed by incompetent fools that should be filming AVs somewhere else instead of trying to pass off shoddy work as satisfactory material. Never one to wallow in agony and cry over split 奶头 milk, I sought the assistance of a barebones photo editing software known as Paint, for the far superior Photoshop can only be accessed from the other computer, one which I shall not utilise for the time being as it is big and clunky. It also lags at the worst moments, like when I’m reading some **** comic and somebody comes in. That’s bad. Yun Cheng has probably experienced it before, perhaps while watching certain explicit videos too. That practice is one that is detrimental to having strong and robust legs, though.

Anyway, I cropped the heads of certain famous figures off and pasted them over my own visage. Behold! It’s crude, but it works. Feels good but rather strange, just like *** on the beach.

Chemistry paper is just 6 or 7 hours away, but I’m not too worried seeing as I’ve already gotten my facts and concepts down pat. We’ll just need some luck, a sufficient supply of pencil lead, as well as a sizeable piece of rubber. Oh dear, the bookshop is closed and I can’t find one. Perhaps 7-11 might stock the object to my requirement? The obvious downsize would be that my paper would end up reeking of strawberry fragrances. OHHO.

If there’s something that I have surplus of now, it’s mooncakes. The subcontractors at my parent’s company persist in their delivery service of sorts as if the little round pastries cost as much as a one-inch ****. Each day, I get a new box of mooncakes in the fridge just waiting to be consumed. Not that I’m complaining though, the durian mooncake from Goodwood Park Hotel tastes heavenly, with generous servings of durian meat. There is also another box of durian mooncakes, this from Q Bread, the bakery you can find at Tampines Interchange. I feel like throwing that away now. Once you’ve tasted something better, inferior products just don’t make the cut.

Did I mention this yet? Some little bugger that lives on the floor above mine owes the loansharks some money. They came knocking the other day, spraying threatening messages that demanded the debtor to pay up immediately. They even spray-painted his contact details for all to see. I’ve got the photos in my phone, but am currently unwilling to provide the service of uploading them for your privilege.

I’ll practise some guitar playing before going to bed, hope the neighbours don’t come knocking as usual.

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