hello
i've been told that my blog is the angsty one of its lot. (no, im not planning to gun the school down. im going to let it meet its own ruin. muhahaha.) the important thing is its not cheena. that will just make everyone just want to kill themselves. especially since im indian.
i've been told that my blog is the angsty one of its lot. (no, im not planning to gun the school down. im going to let it meet its own ruin. muhahaha.) the important thing is its not cheena. that will just make everyone just want to kill themselves. especially since im indian.
anyway, today when i was commuting to school in my father's car i realised that there's a huge generation gap. wait. this isn't one of my "life's like that" kind of posts. the reason for this mega one hundred ton realisation was that for the majority of our conversation i had no fucking clue as to what he was going on about. he just went on and on and on as xy chromosome inheritors tend to do. there i was, just sitting there tuning in and out to what he was saying. it was like that fuzzy radio static whenever you tune in to malaysian radio stations. of course it doesn't really help that he converses with me in tamil 30% of the time. it disrupts the flow as i've got to put in all my effort in making the transition between the two. trust me, its not easy. half the time i doubt myself how i got through hmt in one piece. the point is my tamil sucks balls and its like i have a pair of earmuffs on. so he just casually asks me : "so you're wearing bloomers under your skirt?". "what (in fucking hell) is that?" i ask, suddenly quite awake from the the use of a "foreign term" i didn't quite get. to me (and don't pretend you didn't think this either arse wipes): bloomers=blooming=flowering=womanhood=breasts/menstruation=topic fathers shut their traps on. and so my curiosity urges me to take the bait. i asked. i made an attempt to continue the conversation. i bold attempt on my part. a simple yes or no would have sufficed but i wanted to know what he was on about. he had piqued my interests. it seems bastards, bloomers are actually shorts. okay that made eons more sense than my definition. apparently, they're pe shorts from a time unknown to man. and get this (this will blow your mind out) they're shorts with pleats and gutters! yeah, not typos. apparently its for females of that era. regular shorts are just too comfortable and god forbid women wear comfortable clothes. the pleats are to hide the bum bum's shape and the gutters are so that the man-boys can't pull a peek-a-boo on you. (come on jack asses, lets all take moment to thank thailand for those glorious fbts) in ADDITION, there's a lining within the shorts itself to prevent you panty line from showing (amongst other things). for those sad saps who can't for the life of them picture the horrors implemented on sporting women back then, a picture is worth a thousand words. so i bring you 2: 
lo and behold! observe the horrors, lurkers of the new age! it was an era of pain and suffering for womankind but we pulled through. some may have been left behind but they're usually locked up in basements some where in austria. whats even more ridiculous is that they're attempting to make a fashion statement by bringing them back. i beg of you all, let us reunite and put a stop to this. its really just a menace. no one should be allowed to step outside their homes adorning a parachute around their thighs. what's even worse is that (yes theres more) indians who were particularly conservative (more so than now. come now, forgive and forget you racist mother fuckers) took the fashion statement one step further. they wore the shorts such that it began way above their belly button and then the demonic thing just continues all the way below their knees. i've been told that numerous times that im racist against my own race but, i must say, this has earned me the license guys. honestly, indians HAD tits for brains, they knew exactly how to make something utterly diarrheal even more so. so rascals, remember, next time you're out and about town, don't forget to wear clean bloomers.
lo and behold! observe the horrors, lurkers of the new age! it was an era of pain and suffering for womankind but we pulled through. some may have been left behind but they're usually locked up in basements some where in austria. whats even more ridiculous is that they're attempting to make a fashion statement by bringing them back. i beg of you all, let us reunite and put a stop to this. its really just a menace. no one should be allowed to step outside their homes adorning a parachute around their thighs. what's even worse is that (yes theres more) indians who were particularly conservative (more so than now. come now, forgive and forget you racist mother fuckers) took the fashion statement one step further. they wore the shorts such that it began way above their belly button and then the demonic thing just continues all the way below their knees. i've been told that numerous times that im racist against my own race but, i must say, this has earned me the license guys. honestly, indians HAD tits for brains, they knew exactly how to make something utterly diarrheal even more so. so rascals, remember, next time you're out and about town, don't forget to wear clean bloomers.now: imagine how bloomers would look under a mini skirt! i think i have helped engrave a very indescribable picture in the back of your minds. you're welcome mother fuckers. i was meaning to post up a fantastic song that's been ringing in my ears all day but the internet's proving its unreliability once again. next them then eh?
(i hope you anal, stick in the muds have realised the EVIDENT cut down of some of my very colourful and vibrant words)
