My ratio of chilli sauce to fries is biased towards the latter.

Stops eating fries.





Panic.

What I detest about women's clothings?

1) Not enough pockets.

2) When there are, pockets are so small as to be non-existent.

.
.
.

3) FAKE POCKETS.

Why why why why why???? Don't sew those useless flaps of extra cloth on and call them 'pockets'. All they do is lead you to a black hole of deception and despair. Clothes aren't getting any cheaper and when I pay $25 for a pair of jeans online, I don't want to recieve the thing and discover those pockets aren't pockets. You don't find this nonsense on men's clothes. It's terribly vexing - like the fashion industry big wigs suddenly thought:
"You know what women can't handle on their clothes? Pockets! That's what! Let's remove them all Bwahahaahahah! Tell the sweatshops in insert country here to start making something more useful with the cloth we've saved - Like beanies with extra flappy ears!"

"But, if we remove all the pockets..." stammers some low-level executive, "The fashion designers will throw a fit. You've removed a crucial motif for jeans and a thousand other practical clothes!"

"Bah! Just leave the pocket design on and remove the pockets, that way we can be totally evil in addition to making women buy more handbags to store their useless crap. Like wallets & handphones. Who needs pockets for that?"

No. Just no. Real pockets *weeps* please come back!

I've finished watching Catching Fire and Ender's Game. Urgh, my heart. Ouch, my heart.
You know that feeling you get when a movie ends and every single cell in your body cries out in exhausted Luke Skywalker denial NOOOoOOOOOoOooo!!! Damn you! You can't end now! You wait through about 4 minutes worth of credits, staring at the screen as foreign sounding names flash mockingly across - screenplay by yadayada, director of photography by whatchamkalit - all the while loud thumping ochestral music (most likely with some deep cello overture) blares over the cinema telling you "Look at the fancy way people's names fly across the screen with the beat! Look at that fool still sitting there. Let her stare at the screen harder. Maybe the credits will magically return to the film proper and continue that damn thing!"

Sigh.