We must’ve reached a new era of modern technology.
I can’t believe that I actually feel nostalgic when I’m making full use of my email accounts. The university does not allow us to use any form of chat programs which is why I am relying fully on my very reliable gmail account..
Who would’ve thought we’d see the day when email becomes old school?
So far in my now utilised email account, I’ve discovered that:
1) My Aunty who is my mum’s age has just graduated from Monash University
2) 9th Uncle passed away on Tuesday morning.
3) Viagra is good for penile health.
4) My mum’s family all damn happening, using email all. Oldest user is now 70+ years old.
My mum has been trying to keep up with the times as well. “A mouse? What’s a mouse?”
Maybe one fine day she will get her own email account. 🙂
It’s quite a pain in the ass having to sms your friends when you’re thinking about them or if you just feel like crapping. Back in Subang, I only had to lift the laptop onto any surface and I can sprout nonsense to the next crazy internet addict.
For the mean time, my housemates will have to deal with the fact that I will announce to them, “Miss Lai, you want to shit now. Please go to the toilet.”
Sigh. I do miss my MSN messenger.
On a different note, the house is fucking smelly.
We are not sure if it’s one of our BOs or if it’s any of our shoes. I suggested that perhaps there is a dead body decomposing in the next house(too much of CSI). That would be exciting! Then the anatomy museum in uni will have an extra dead body to work on. Just got to make do with the droopy tissues that are starting to fall apart and put them together with abit of cellophane tape. If there is slime sprouting from the cadaver’s wounds, nothing bits of napkins cannot fix.
I’m sure it’s just a dead mouse; my imagination gets the better of me at times.
Then yesterday when the bus dropped us at the neighbourhood shops to buy some necessities(they only give you this treatment on your first day at AIMST.. to make you think, “wah! so good wan ar!” Wrong leh, they will come up with a thousand and one excuses about how making that minor detour will for example result in them missing out on the birth of their 7th grandchild), I stepped out of the bus and a familiar pong of smell hit my nostrils.
I stopped in my tracks and did a stage whisper, “Lishen, THIS SMELL. It’s THIS smell!!”
Lishen tilt her nose up in the air and took a deep breath.
“Stupid girl!! Who asked you to breathe so hard?!” I yelled as I picked her off the floor, splashing her face with some water from my bottle.
But alls well as we’ve finally deduced where the horrid stench originates from. IT’S THE BLOODY DRAINS.
I lodged a complain this morning at the Student Affairs and the head of that department, Mr. R, attended to me. There was a space in the form that said, “Mode of Action:” To which he looked up at me with a straight face and said, “So, we shoot the majlis perbandaran guy?”
It’s nice to have someone with a sense of humour around. Let’s see who gets the last laugh when he comes around for a sniff.