Like with most things, I have a love-hate relationship with food. I love eating food,but once I'm done stuffing my face I hate the smell of food- airborne calories make me sick. Food is such a waste of time, yet why can't I just stop eating. I reckon when I grow old I'm going to turn into one of those fat jabba people who have to be wiped down in sections,then lifted by a crane through a hole in the wall for occasional airing, only to be lathered down with anti-rash cream from lying in bed for too long,immobile. I love smoking, but once the smoke blows back into my face stinging my eyes till they start tearing,I could just snap every one of those cancer sticks in twain to spite them. Then two hours pass and I start fidgeting, my legs shake in a really annoying way which leads people like Chris to say that I'm sexually frustrated, because that's apparently what you do when you're not getting any. That's true, those cigs are my lovah's... take them in,breathe them out..easy.

I reckon I need one of those JoeyNY Lipnix Lipsticks:

On-the-record promise: Firms and plumps lips to give you that perfect pout.

Secret powers: Appetite-inhibiting plant essences (peppermint, grapefruit, spearmint) help you stop eating so much; flower extracts including heliochrysum and geranium supposedly curb the urge to smoke.

The expert says: Says Wechsler, “The placebo effect can be very powerful.”

If they say so, sounds sweet. You would think beauty magazines would give you tips on how to stay radiant,look like a goddess, and be an all round sexy beast but no. The fashion magazine of today tells you to experiment with valium&alcohol to get whacked off your head. Now this is what I'm talking about. None of that 'You're beautiful,if you go for a nose job,lip job,botox, boob job,butt job, hairextensions job,and basically rearrange- your- whole- face-so- you-look-nothing-like-you job' crap. Give us something we can work with, like our livers. I'm glad they have finally come to their senses and given us mere mortals an activity we can all enjoy; abusing our nervous systems.

Finally WH Smith's decides to stock I.D magazine. What took them so long, those losers. Also, I have found a fashion magazine I can tolerate, barely. Elle.

In our utter state of boredom and my slightly tipsy state last night I gave the big Z a makeover!! We bumped into C the other day in the streets and she had her whole face painted over because some lady at Estee Lauder decided to do her the favour of giving her a makeover. She was painted a whitey-beige. Quite becoming actually.

I wish I had my long hair back. She reminds me of me...*reminisce*sigh*swoon*

In Z's own words ,' in essence you're a good makeup artist...until you start going crazy'.

Haha...trying to recreate the Moschino look. I think it's rather fancy. The lips are tres cool, but I particularly dig the eye makeup I did for her. I actually went through a phase where I insisted on making my eyes up like that to go out. Needless to say not everyone was appreciative of my creative efforts.... like a voice in the wilderness, noone pays heed to my eternal creative wisdom

Harajuku Lovahs Hai Chi Zi! Kawaii! Bling Bling Yoko Ono!

So we got rid of the fancy schmancy lipstick and I think she looks wicked!

Very Angelina Jolie in a way,with the hair and shadowed eyes...

Yea!

On to bigger and brighter things... My shoe collection!!!

I just bought me-self a new pair of shoes! The roman sandals you see in the picture are my recent purchase. Can't wait to wear them in Singapore, so bohemian, tres tres chic! Mes Oui! need more shoes... Can't keep wearing the same ones over and over again now can we....

St Pat's day tomorrow!! Time to get trashed.. Irish style..

Mrs G just came to talk to me about us gang of smokers stinking up the corridoor. I actually had to suck up this time which I haven't done in about....5 years and it felt totally...abnormal. I reckon if someone was filming the whole 'talk' we had it would have shown me contorting my face into some heinously pained expression of amiability,maybe bleeding at the nose abit from all the effort. I am so bad at brown-nosing it's a little scary. Someone told me that to perfect the art of kissingchutties you have to raise your voice pitch a notch or two ,so i tried that,but my sore throat got in the way and I ended up sounding like a pubescent 13 yr old boy. It was tiring work seeing as it didn't exactly help to curry favour in any way. Damn. Now I know why I wasn't topofthepops with my teachers....

Oh yea, forgot to add. Yesterday I was taking root in my beanbag, preparing to rot in my room when Inman gave me a call and we went skipping out to town. Somehow, very oddy, we ended up at the restoration where I very nicely , proved myself a lightweight. 50Cent came on and I do recall jumping on the couch and pressing myself against the speaker whispering to it. Smooth eh. But the highlight of yesterday's trip was riding in Ollie's car. He's such a KEWL driver,I love riding in cars with guys, they're such AWESOME drivers. Like how whatshername puts it, when guys drive fast you always feel safe,in a way. With girls' however, you always feel you're at the mercy of another hormonal attack which might possess them into swerving into a lampost just to prove a point. Ollie is cool, but I prefer Tim, but then again ,who am I to judge, I'm just another drunk.