I frikkin wish.
I have often wondered about why I am not as popular as I obviously deserve to be. Is it that my wit is too sharp for most? Or perhaps my clear complexion and wonderful skin tone intimidates most people. Could it be the truckload of sex appeal or the fact that I smell like Brad Pitt that makes people think twice before entering into social intercourse with me?
Social intercourse! Blah!
Call me a pervert but there is only thing which comes to my mind when I hear those two words and it sure as hell ain’t rubbish talk about the weather, ifyaknow whatta-i-meeeen. Nudge nudge. Wink wink.
I think I would make a great flirt if only my face did not get in the way. Somehow whenever I try putting on the sexy pout, it comes across as more of a face spasm rather than a call to them estrogen thingies.
One of the funniest incidents in recent memory is when I was trying the “sexy look”, this laadie looks at me and trys to imitate me. Poor job. So, as to encourage and guide, I tells her “No no no. You must put in the sex appeal!” to which she (most poker-face-dly) replies “Oh that’s what you were doing”. I would have called her all sorts of terrible things if I wasn’t too busy laughing me ass off. Goddamit.
Hate it when humour comes in the way no? I mean there is part of me which is super-insulted and all, but then there is another part of me which is poking me in the shoulder and going “Ha! poke !Ha! pokey pokey” and so on and so forth. That part of me tends to win most of the time. Bloody bully.
I think the reason why I do not really “hang out” with people is coz they just make me acutely aware of my questionable (think pathetic) conversation skills. Which is kinda sad cause at most times I can talk complete crap for hours. Like in this blog for instance. But when the time comes for normal, semi-intelligent talk, me mind goes complete Buddha on me. Serence and empty and calm and all that.
When she says something that makes her sad, her eyes open up and you can see the pain inside them. Beautiful.