But anyway...

I want to publicly humiliate a fellow blogger being because he has been annoying me for more than three years now. But I dont want to because its not Ubee. The ratio of milk and Milo in my glass is not proportionate but its too late to do anything because I'm almost done with the damn thing. Anyway. Back to the annoying blogger dude. Well a couple of his friends read my blog at times I think and I dont want to offend them...umm...But I dont mind offending them. But its just that I'm gona have to talk about all that which I dont want to. Anyway. So I wont be blogging about that attention seeking hypocrite.

I want to have halwa puri. Everyone's asleep. My timings of life dont match with anyone in my house. When I wake up everyone else is asleep. And when they wake up its time for my nap. And then I wake up when they're all taking a nap. And then I go to sleep when their fun time begins. So yeah. Oh and its their routine which is odd, not mine. But its kinda fun. That way I dont have to avoid any human contact. It automatically becomes impossible to communicate. I hate communication. And confrontations. Even though I believe that proper communication gets rid of half the problems between individuals. I also hate paper work. Filling forms and submitting and attaching all the documents and all that unnecessary crap they make me do.

There are so many people I'll have to hire for myself. How am I going to pay them all? A butler, a lawyer, a personal assistant. Its 10:20 am and the whole city seems to be asleep. No ones online. No one ever is before noon. Anyway. I love men people in uniform. Especially the navy ones. Have you ever seen them? They're adorable. Dont even want to imagine what their uniforms look like soaked in blood.
Anyway. I came across this movie, The Super. Some German flick I think. Not the funny one. The creepy one. There's this old creepy dude and his fat old creepy wife obsessed with human organs. And then they find people and cut them open and feel their intestines n all. Creepy shit I tell you. Left me with a weird feeling. I've realized that I no longer have a taste for gore. Though the creepy serial killer stories still amuse me, I avoid watching them. Reading is fine. But if I'm fine imagining all the gore why am I not okay actually watching it?:\
Oh the complicated machinations of my mind. I <3 Patrick.
I also dont like using words like shit, fuck, and slut anymore. I still say it. But in my head I'm all "that dint sound too good" so now I avoid saying all that. Crap is still fine. I'm afraid I'm turning into a lady.