鼻血狂流。Seriously.
Socks are a very important part of my wardrobe because unlike most normal people in sunny Singapore, I can't wear slippers. Those flappy footwear hurt my feet like hell & become a major pain when that impatient uncle deliberately steps on the back of it in a crowded mrt escalator while attempting to overtake (thereafter I will glare menacingly at the back of his head while muttering curses for his EZ link to surreptitiously fail at the gantry).

So I wear shoes.
And shoes need socks.
Shoes & socks are engaged in a symbiotic relationship akin to sliced bread & jam. The bread (shoes) is the blank slate upon which you write whatever jam (the socks) you so desire.
Selecting tasty colourful jam is important because eating bread with say, marmite, gets miserable fast. Therefore, by the same reasoning I never buy black socks.

Those socks from uuuu...shoooop!! (yes, really, that's the name) are like tasty otah sandwiched with sambal belachan, layered with gooey cheese & avocado & tabasco sauce! That's how orgasmic it looks! And from what I read ... not cheap.

Well, whatever. I'll be going to Hong Kong next month & I shall find me a pair of incredible socks if that's the last thing I do!

Here <--- inexplicable mystery meat navigation warning.

Over on other things....
Oh Tyakasha, why do you always come out with the nicest designs that are completely out of my budget? Why?

It seems that every time I'm on blogger, I'm either slacking my pants off or gouging my eyeballs out from stress.
Yes, yes. This is another one of those times. Say hello to those feelings that I detest ....

There is nothing more i'd like to do than dissolve into my pillow.