about day-afters and trash and terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad decisions
…
The dog is a dirty dog
The dog is a filthy dog
The master is not pleased
Self-righteous
You are what you eat
…
how whimsical
about day-afters and trash and terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad decisions
…
The dog is a dirty dog
The dog is a filthy dog
The master is not pleased
Self-righteous
You are what you eat
…
how whimsical
I bet most people around my age have already seen this.
So many photos have boiled up over the last few years of (mostly) girls’ legs at a rather nice place, usually some form of waterhole, that emphasises their shape, shade and size in a way that is flattering. This is done with the outwards motive of showing viewers a place they’d rather be, when really, the subject just wants to show off in an annoyingly vain fashion.
In a way similar to the plump pout becoming forevermore the “duck face”, someone special on the internet has managed to turn the sexy stick-legs into walking wieners.
Beautiful. The Facebook page was created about 15 hours ago*, and I’ve seen it jump from 40 000 likes to over 120 000 in the last few.
mog thanks dog for social networking
*at time of post
On a day where my savings account rises dramatically, the first thing I rush out to do is buy food. Not just food – small components that will eventually make a larger and (hopefully) greater mix. I am the envy of all my fellow students; my status as a culinary god is golden. There are no packets of mi goreng in a single cupboard, the vegetable drawer is full to the brim. There may not be an oven in my room, but that has not stopped me from creating dense, rich cakes. I know how to cook.
Or at least, I act it. The number of times a recipe has promised so much in a raw form and then taken a sharp turn south during its final process is getting embarrassing. Why is it that cake batter is always far superior to the actual cake? Sweet potato and spinach dumplings fall apart with that first touch of hot oil? An uncooked carrot swims gloriously in hummus but limps around after a brief sauna session?
Such an experience usually finds me huddled in front of the television, starved by disappointment. Wind back to Saturday evening – the new paleo fad had let me down (perfect example of single-looping)and the Sex & The City flick was not providing much of an escape from the theme of failure. The main character’s relationship is going beautifully, until the decision to seal the deal with marriage ultimately ruins absolutely everything. Huh. It seems in movies, the “batter is better” ideology pops up a fair amount. Bugger.
With this in mind, I began seeing how this idea could actually manifest in real life. Making things official is like taking a heavy-footed step off stable ground onto a precariously perched platform; you really don’t know how it’s going to take the change in weight. In fact, following this ideology, you know for a fact that the platform will crumble beneath you. Why bother in the first place? Your relationship is not going to be better if you put a label on it. There’s a reason Ben & Jerry’s sells cookie dough-flavoured ice cream. The batter is better! Seriously. If it’s good, it’s already great.
More on this later. Maybe not more on this later.
by mog