7:12 PM, Friday, May. 15, 2009
Strike one-Dad immediately going on about how my canto sucks and how all my friends (just amanda) can speak canto better than me and to their family members, as SOON as i mention the phrase, in cantonese. I'm trying to tell a bloody joke which happens to be in cantonese but i get fucking dissed for my cantonese. DOn't i already cop enough of that crap every other day? GOd. Like I said, I'm trying to tell a bloody joke passed on trhough my friends. Doesn't that mean I'm talking to canto to my bloody friends? Exactly you fool, this is the very reason why I don't talk to my parents in cantonese. Suck that bitch.
Strike two-Dad ruining my fucking canto joke by not saying, 'what' or 'idk' but by thinking up for a bloody answer and eventually getting it. Way to ruin my bloody joke bitch. God.
Strike three-Eatrend fucking punching my arm ongoingly just because I farted. HELLO. This is not your bloody caringbah and no one in hell does that. I'm a fucking girl and your bloody sister and I don't fucking care about your shitty jocky games and I want respect from you and respect only if I must. I'm made of skin and bones here especially in my arm so it bloody HURTS. I'mma fucking get a bloody bruise tomorrow. And this is in the middle of my fucking important conversation. Bitches. Can't I do anything in this bloody world without getting interrupted and my things not going right.
Strike four bonus-the bloody soy sauce for the prawns had too much oil on top. Fucking hell, how's a carnivore supposed to enjoy the only meat on the dinner table (prawns) with fucking oily soy sauce.
Fucking bitches I hope you suck my balls.
Blanc is the last survivor. She's dying. Fuck. Changing the water was my mother's and Eatrends worst thing they could've done.
Fuck.
Life's a bitch.