-BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM? Not quite.

A zest for challenges, a ball, a football goalpost, a striker and me guarding it = one swollen thumb, both thighs being numb as hell, a tight butt which hurts like fuck and one happy girl.

Now i know why guys like soccer. I wanna play almost every week unless the guys mind, that is. Because *high pitched voice girls dun play soccer. Well, she can try, can't she?
Anyways, went down to sign the contracts down at ABS. So i start tomorrow which means i got to get an early night today because firstly, I have to train my stupid body to wake up early now.and secondly, i am getting bad dark rings+wrinkles below my eyes.

Today was an interesting day. Taking public transport ensures exciting encounters everyday.
Let me tell u about it.
I was walking innocently to the toilet in Harbour Front,(green tea and ciggies dun go well).*ahem..anyway.. when i heard a loud shrill unmistakably Indian woman's voice shouting, "AHH!!HELP! MY SON! MY SOOOON!!". I wish i could record it down. Every vouyeristic Singaporean started circling the spectacle, including urs truly. Sure thing, there stood an Indian young-ish woman grabbing her hair from her poor scalp, just pointing to the railway track.
I thought to myself' Oh fuck! he's down there!'. But that was clearly not possible because it was not the open railways you see, it was the NEL railways. Turns out, the son boarded the train without her. Like, woman, this is no India, dun go yelling. He will come back, just tell the guards and they would get ur son back. He won't end up in Calcutta, selling chappati ok?
*sigh.
And there i was hoping i could help and be a hero and end up in the news or something. Bleagh.

If that was not freaky Indian enough, listen up. I was in the train,when this family stared at me all the way from Harbour Front to Dhoby Gaut. Not glances ok. STARED. Not the 'oh, you are so gorgeous, i can't help but stare', not even the 'fucking bitch, you fucked my father', the stare that says 'Mmm. .. you might be THE ONE for my brother to marry'.The shy smiles, al of them, father,daughter and mother. Like, come on man, already people associate Indians to arranged marriages, vadais and smelly coconut hair. Now u wanna get freakier? Slap urself silly and stop staring at poor me. I swear i wanted to just scare them off with a monkey face but i guess they would still imitate me and think it is cool or something. Weird.

Anyway, guess what?
I would be Regan's assistant. .
I am gonna get bullied. Big time.

Catcha later.