"...was surprised to find her there. Thot she liked Aquadisiac (wisma) better. She wore a baby tee. I hate baby tees! Im sure her white Guess top would go nicer. But I lurve her shoes. Dont think she spotted me though... I've nvr seen that guy before...Very clean-cut type. Quite handsome but my baby is cuter :) Must be her bf coz of the way she leaned against him. ok! enuff of nashe! ..."
yeah. Enough.
It's like opening the papers to read about the dream you had last night.
I hardly know the above blogger, but she isn't the only one. I've been hearing a lot of things about myself lately. Things that I wasn't supposed to know. Thing is, I don't know whether I'm supposed to be flattered or annoyed at the presumptions of these people.
Apparently, as I found out, Nashe is not supposed to wear t-shirts and jeans anymore. Neither can she be seen at any other bar- she has to be at Indochine every weekend. She can't be lying down at the Esplanade basement now, and if you see her without makeup, it means she's having a bad day.
Excuse me, but since when have I been donning Prada jackets or DVF dresses, again? I'll wear a goddamn potato sack if I want to. And it would be nice to know who told you I'm attending VIP gala dinners every night. You have no right to criticize my simple choice of clothes for a simple outing, especially since you seriously ain't exactly the most fashionable person around.
I have my own reasons for being wherever I was, doing whatever I was doing. Heck, even Prince William gets a day off.
The people who matter happen to like what I wear and what I do, so I don't know why YOU, the randoms that don't matter, are so bothered about my whereabouts and shit.
Then there's also that issue about me hanging out with non-Singaporeans. WHAT is it to you, seriously? I can't help it if I know one of them and get introduced to the whole lot. I can't help it if they like me, either. No matter what, I've never ignored my local friends. I treasure them. And again, the local friends who matter don't mind me hanging out with these foreigners so what is the problem now?
And there's the bitching about me living off that pile of money I call my boyfriend. Dude, I can walk into Ferragamo with him and get whatever the hell I want but that doesn't mean I do it. I'm not a kept woman. The fact that I never truly run out of money has got nothing to do with who I go out with. Seriously. Please.
Please. Get a life of your own and quit feeding off mine.
8 comments:
This is a cute blog. So what do you think the world will be like when you are 50? I'm glad I'm not 19, the 60's and 70's were the best years.
But she lurves (lurves?) your shoes!
Opinions are like noses: everybody's got one, but who cares?
Love ya,
D
Gold digging whore!
*diving behind sofa and grabbing chair for protection*
I’M JUST KIDDING!
IT’S A JOKE! You know ... ha ha ha and all that?
*Steve Erwin voice*
Now is the really DANGEROUS paaht!
I have to keep this chair between myself and the angry Nashe.
The angry Nashe is an apex predator! If she gets her claws on me, I’m a dead man!
Oh wait ... I am a dead man ...
;-)
@ BBC : Thanks dude. The world would probably be rotting away when I'm 50. Assuming I live that long to find out. =/
@ Woo : (Don't you just lurve it?) Don't even try getting me sidetracked. Hahaa.
@ Di : Apparently a lot of people care. +P Love ya too, grams.
@ Gad : Ha, sometimes we just get lucky....and OK. It's a joke. LOLness.
And you're wrong about the apex predator. (I think!) I prefer to think I just simmer a lot.
You. Long time no see.
The part where ____ was saying you were seen hanging out at Gucci was funnier. hahahahhahaa. chill still, girl.
@ Khane : Oh that. She hasn't seen my Guess-by-Marciano tote and Guess watch yet. XD
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