It has been a few days since Ben had that freaky incident. It must have been work stress and everything negative blowing up at once on his face; he consoled himself.
Yet, deep within his subconscious, the explicit image of the corpse was glaring at his soul. Was that a message? Has he been watching too many horror shows on netflix?
He turned to his hobby to clear his head. It was woodworking. Splinters and calluses were a common sight, but it granted some satisfaction to cover that gaping void in his life. Most of the things in Kiki’s room were handmade. The coloring table which she loved was painstakingly crafted over a week. He recalls her tiny hands working furiously on the crayons, scraping against the chiseled wood with a piece of drawing paper.
“ZwZZXwZZZwZZ” The wood cutter was rumbling to life. Ben took a deep breath and inhaled that romantic woody scent. Goggles on, he pressed down hard for a snug fit. He found the safety goggles too much of a hassle and grumbled about poor accuracy, but Lylia made the goggles mandatory for fear of splinters piercing his eyes.
“Too much final destination” He would chuckle, but listened to her anyway.
“RRRRRRRRRRR” The blades whirred. The outline was perfectly drawn on the cedar. It was the skeleton of a rocking horse. It was a pretty big project for an amateur like him, but it should be completed just in time before Kiki’s birthday in August.
The cutter sawed through the cedar effortlessly. The smooth swift edges would make any carpenter pleased. Backyard blues was playing in the background. Ben felt at ease.
Slowly, the wood chippings fell off the table. The aromatic smell filled up the tiny shed. It smelt like the fireplace last winter where he brought the family for a cozy getaway down in Alaska.
The slightly curved base for the horse is gradually coming to shape. Ben became more meticulous now, taking great care to soften the edges by controlling the angle of the woodcutter. He had prepared tools and saw-paper to help round them perfectly later on.
“XXZZZZZZZZXXXZZ!!” The blades worked hard. It was loud and drowned out his spotify. Suddenly, the lone light bulb flickered.
Ben looked up. The light bulb started swinging precariously. He reached for the button to stop the woodcutter.
“CLICK” He pressed on the plastic tab. The cutter was still spinning at a voracious speed.
“CLICK!” He pressed on the button anxiously. Nothing happened.
He looked up again. The light bulb was swinging like a bird on the freeway, casting shadows on the shed like a rave party.
“Bloop.. bloop” he blinked uncomfortably. Something was pooling up in his goggles. With his free hand, he grabbed at the goggles attempting to rip them off. But they were stuck.
“Damn it!” He shouldn’t have pressed on so snugly.
The liquid accumulated and is on the rise. It stained the goggle lens. It was red. It was blood.
IT WAS BLOOD.
Too many things were happening at the same time. Ben’s brain was frenzied and tripping all over the place. The light bulb, the goggles, the whirring woodcutter. What in the hell???!?!!
Soon, he had to close his eyes as the blood was rapidly rising.
The lightbulb was making creaking sounds as it swung madly. Ben was only aided by his hearing at that point. His eyes were tightly shut.
A low raspy voice then echoed in his ears.
The thunderous words caused him to let go of the woodcutter in shock.
“ZZZCCCZZXXXCC!!” The blades pierced through his stomach like scissors on origami. Pain shot up instantly and left him crippled from the intensity.
He fell back on his hind, throwing the woodcutter away from him and desperately tried to remove the goggles again.
It came off this time.
The light cast across the shed is now an ominous ember. It looked like the inside of an active furnace. He peered at his stomach. Blood was spurting in all directions.
It was crimson on the floor. Thick, goopy mess.
At the corner of the shed where the supply rack was, the same grotesque corpse materialized from the shadows. The light was still flickering. Ben’s head was spinning from septic shock.
His hands were stained with his own blood. It trickled like an angry army and smelt like death. The pain immobilized his feet.
The ghastly girl seemed to be in a worse state than before. The last bit of skin on her face was consumed by maggots. The creepy larvae was wriggling boldly on her cheeks. Her hair was matted and dripping wet. Slowly, she crawled towards Ben, joints crackling like logs tossed into a robust fire.
She looked lesser like Kiki this time round, more corpse-like. except the lifeless eyes still retained the shape of the beautiful round orbs, it was no doubt it resembled her! Or rather, whatever left that remained.
“HELP ME DADDY… “
The voice was no longer raspy. It was child-like and it sounded pitiful. It was a plea.
Ben pressed hard on his wound to prevent further loss of blood. The creature was crawling closer and closer to him.
It made soft wailing noises. In his dire, curled up gait, Ben thought about that one time when Kiki was haunted by nightmares. She made the same soft cries.
But the immense pain and blood loss made it hard for Ben to fully focus on anything then. He backed up fully against the wall of the shed, using his arm to drag his limp legs along until there was no more inches left to distance himself from it.
Everything started to blur out. The pain left him convulsing. The creature reached out for his feet.
Ben blacked out.
“Crreakkk” His eyes opened partially. His heart started pounding faster when Ben remembered the ordeal and realized he’s opening his eyes to reality.
He clutched his stomach. There was nothing. No blood. No cut. Just his worn out A&F tee. The light bulb was still creaking but it was dancing peacefully in the mild zephyr that was blowing in from the tiny window.
The shed looked exactly like how it was before when he first started his work. The wood cutter wasn’t whirring. It was lying quietly by the base of the rocking horse.
He got up from the ground and dusted himself. Wood shavings flounced off him as he shook up.
Ben approached the table to inspect the wood cutter. It was switched off and even had the safety lock on. He lifted the sturdy wooden base off the table – And saw some red stains on the table.
Goosebumps spread throughout his body and chills ran down his spine like an untamed current.
With trembling fingers, he flipped over to the other side of the wooden base.
It was the same blood red paint again. (Or is it real blood?) But this time, there weren’t words. It was a children’s drawing that looked really familiar.
The deepest darkest night lulled over that Saturday. Ominous clouds embraced the moon, light disappeared.
He was alone in the bathroom, going through the usual routine. It had been a tiring day at work. Slumped shoulders bore the weight of resent, of bitterness and regrets. He slinked into the bathtub, wishing and wanting for the soapy suds to ease the stress away. He wasn’t used to the dead silence, even though it has already been months since she took off with their only daughter, gushing in the arms of another man.
Bubbles form on the placid surface where bubbles once were. It has been half an hour, but he was still soaking. The warmth of the bath too, has long left. He let out a fart, watching in near amusement as they gently rose to the surface.
“Bloooop.. bloop blooop blooop”
He froze. Somewhere at the far end of the tub, where his feet were perched against the smooth ceramic, were bubbles rising to the surface. That can’t be him!
He was unable to move. Eyes fixated on the spot, he found himself gripping both edges of the tub, stricken with fear.
“Blooooooop. Blooop Bloop Blooop”
It continued. Bubbles were emerging, breaking out on the surface almost violently.
Could it be the stopper coming loose by accident? He snapped out of his fear and dismissed it as childish. All the months of living alone must have gotten to him. In a bid to be rationale and solution orientated, he plucked his hand away from the edge. Blood flowed through his palm once more.
He bent forward, hand dipping into the lukewarm water, searching for the stopper.
The soapy water suddenly looks like a horrid shade of dirty brick red, no thanks to the last drops of bubble wash from his daughter Kiki, He groped around aimlessly for the stopper.
His fingers touched something. As though an electric shock, fear shot through his body, leaving him paralyzed from the touch. His fingers grabbed onto the object instinctively as he pulled it out from the water.
It was a large pile of hair.
Long, dark, crinkled strands of hair. They seem to flow endlessly like a ball of mating snakes, writhing in his hand.
His heart palpitated so fast as he threw the ball of hair away from him, and bolted out of the water.
“What the fuck?” he murmured to himself as he grabbed on to his towel.
“Okay, Ben, relax, you fucking idiot. It’s just hair. This is what you get for leaving the toilet unkempt since Lylia left.” Hands worked in synchronization as he worked hard with the towel, drying himself up in a bid to regain his composure.
Ben turned to face the tub. The tub was being emptied all the sudden.
He could feel his jaw dropping, feet rooted to the ground. He watched, dumbfounded and face marred with horror.
The water was receding. The sides of the tub was dyed with remnants of the obnoxious orange bubbles. Slowly, an outline became visible.
“…..” Ben gasped.
It was mortifying. The last droplets escaped through the sinkhole. What was left, was the body of a young child. Naked, and white as death.
He took off for the door without so much as a second look. Towel wrapped gingerly around his privates, he ran into his bedroom and tried to reach for his phone.
The ceiling light flickered, and then went off. He was basked in darkness. The only light that came, was the soft orange glow from the bathroom. Ben continued looking for his phone, clumsily groping in pitch black.
“Daddy… help me… help”
Soft cries came from the bathroom.
“Was it the child corpse? It’s alive?????” Thoughts ran amok in his head.
“Please… daddy. Please help me.”
The cries streamed on, loud and distinct, chiming across the room.
“Run.” Ben’s mind urged him logically. But his feet were doing just the opposite.
He inched towards the bathroom. Slowly…. the tub came into sight. Bony fingers were grasping the edge of the tub.
The sound of bones cracking reverberated throughout the bathroom. He was planted firmly in his spot as the corpse mustered strength to pull itself upright.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Kiki. Or, rather, something that resembled her. Her eyes were lifeless, and her body was skeletal. Hair was partially ripped out from her skull.
“…Kiki?” Words left his mouth without much thought.
Upon hearing her name, the girl started crying.
Ben tried to inch towards the tub, but fear was standing against him. His heart was slamming against his rib cage in protest.
He reached out his fingers. Suddenly, the girl stared blankly at him, her jaw dropping to an impossible length as though it has dislocated. The light went out with a sharp flicker.
“SAVE HER!!!!!” The young crying voice morphed into something deep and hoarse. Her eyes started bleeding.
Ben yelled in horror.
The lights then came back on. It was gone.
The tub was still filled with the fizzy orange water. There was no girl, no hair, and no sound. It was back to the silence that filled the house once before.
The only sound came from the rampant beating of his heart.
Ben lunged forward to the tub. There was nothing in the water. His hands sloshed around. He reached for the stopper to drain the water out.
His head was in a mess. He stared hard at the tub as the water went out. Then there it was, scribbled like nails against a chalkboard, were poorly written words. Almost illegible.
Her fingers interlaced his hair like silk, a wet smile lit up the room with a brazen gloom.
I wrote a great many stories about heartbreaks – Like poverty, like fame, Why do some people experience it more than the others?
Today, I felt it again after a long, long time. However, it is different this time round. Perhaps, like a fresh wound, the acerbic tones pierce you like it’s the first time all over again.
Today years old me, know that love and emotions are all processed in the brain. Not the heart. Hence, imagine the shock I received when my heart started writhing in pain.
Is that a placebo effect? Surely I have outgrown that.
It felt like I was a gigantic cell, and there was an incoming viral attack on my mitochondria, slowly spreading outwards, lengthwise, eating everything along the way. I seem to gradually diminish, my defenses are worn down. Pain exacerbated. Like as if my heart has gone into shock.
The attack spread outwards, down the span of my arms. The burst so explosive the hairs on my body sprang up in fear.
It was irrevocable. I couldn’t grasp at the pain nor could I make it stop. The exultant invasion clouded my vision. It has consumed so much of me that I felt light. I was floating away into a void. I was no longer whole. I have drowned in the anguish, and asphyxiated – All this time despite I am still very much alive.
Then, it dawned onto me. I figured that my brain was unable to process that much pain that it had to come up with a directive. It had to direct all that pain somewhere else in order to still function. To remain sane.
Because you can’t die from a heartbreak. But it kills you anyway.
Memories are like a slideshow of emotions. A Pandora box, leering at the love that remains.
Sheila has an innocuous face. Those big eyes that sparkle like droplets of first morning dew.
I really like that.
I plant kisses. Slow… gentle. From her cherry lips, to her decolletage, to her bosom.
Her body is petite. Scrawny , actually. With soft rosy flesh like velvet snow. So mesmerizing. Her breasts are a handful, nothing too lewd, but enough to please. Her nipples stand taut for the longest time, in its bubble gum color.
I wrestle my tongue on her nipples, sucking softly. She refuses to moan. Am I doing it too hard? I tease the teeny peaks with softer strokes, cupping the other breast with my free hand. The beautiful milky mound sits in the curvature of my hand like a fitting jigsaw piece. I marvel at the tenderness of this gorgeous round.
I feel a reaction at my groin area as my eyes slowly move south… from her obscenely hung breasts to her navel button with its cute little piercing… and then to her clean landing strip.
Her pussy is shaped like a yearning flower – Longing for a full bloom. Her labia is outspread, as if searching for that ray of sunshine. I rimmed them carefully with my fingers, almost like reading off a manuscript. I did it piously. My head, lowered, reaching to taste that nectar like a honey bee.
She’s already wet. I detect hints of urine, but well, the internet did mention it doesn’t smell like it looks, does it?
I applied some lubricant on my fingers. It’s watermelon flavor. I figured its a girly girl smell that may appeal to her. In a sweeping motion, i hold up her vulgar looking labia like curtains to a talk-show. The sweet valley popped apart, welcoming my greasy fingers almost with anticipation.
The sound it makes is melodious, I could almost fit lyrics to the tune. My fingers are working hard… and so is my tongue. I nibble, lick and suck on the flower bud with zest. MMmMmm… Tasty.
She’s all prepped up now. For me. I pulled down my pants, my manhood groaning, begging for relief. More watermelon it is. I lubed up. I looked at her, legs parted callously. All I see is pink. Her beautiful pink hair, and her rosy skin. A sea of pure, clean bliss.
Her eyes are closed still, looking like a sleeping angel, a cherub of spring. My angel.
I assume the missionary position. It’s boring, I know. But I get to take in the entire, explicit view of her body. I shoved the entire length in. Hard. Her body seemed like it shuddered from the violence of it. But, surely pleasure has overwhelmed the pain, if any was present.
I rock myself hard. The hunger is almost insatiable. I feel like a demon, relishing a living soul. A fire burns within the pits of my belly. I could not stop. Harder and harder, I pounded her like meat. I squeeze her boobs as if they are stress balls.
‘AHHHH FUCK!’ I emptied all of me into her honeypot, like the anther to her stigma. There was no resistance. She appears contented.
I brush my fingers against her forehead, sweeping the hair like fabric threads on a weaving loom. I kiss her for the last time.
Sweet, beautiful Sheila. I own you now. Your pussy has parted like a flower in bloom for me. My seeds are now scattered in you, where they will be, for an eternity.
I re position her body, for that whorish view is only for me, her lover. I carry her up from the bed. The plump pillows still imprinted with her tiny frame. Into the bathroom we go. I lower her into the bath tub. The smell of bleach corroded my nose. I try to breathe shallowly.
‘Sorry my darling, that you have to endure this. But you need this to retain your beauty.’ The concoction of embalming fluids completely engulf her body. I shower her, my lips curling into a smile.
She is so lovely, even when she’s drowning in viscous liquid.
Somewhere back there at Sheila’s house, her worried parents must have stumbled on her note, saying she has ran away.
She has run. to me. And this is where she’ll stay. It’ll be Spring all year round with pink.
A conundrum: What she fears that will end her life. The phobias creeping below her skin, the toxicity of a lonesome mind, what is it exactly?
Water usually eases her. Decked in a colorful number out in the sun, with a little picnic mat and a long time wasting away in merriment… almost enough to grow a mermaid tail.
Sparkling, clean water. Chlorine in the pool that appeared to have dyed the pool a lagoon blue. Being able to see where exactly the goggles fell onto the depth of the marvelously tiled floor.
She felt that the transparency of water soothes her, akin to humans. She was not a mind reader, or so she thought. But most people’s thoughts resonate like high end crystal glasses, clear as day, albeit some are deadly.
A fish that swims in circles along the sad parameters of a confining pool, drowning in the expressions of everyone she has met; is that sad? That is indeed a tragic tale, enough to activate animal rights advocates to initiate a protest.
But one who swims in the unknown depths, never knowing what’s behind you, what’s below you… and how far up to the surface, is that fear?
You know how people always say that anything with a strong foundation lasts through the sly works of time and hardship.
I felt it today.
I look back on our relationship. At myself. Trying to imagine how it felt like to be in your shoes that night we first met. Looking at that girl her conspicuous orange jumpsuit. My god, she’s just ASKING for attention isn’t she? She had a drop too much. Not your Victoria secret model, but quite a looker.
Say hi you would because she already made friends with the entire pub. Amid her laughter and the small talk, she whispered flirtatiously in your ears.
What else can you think of her?
You did not want to pick her up to bring her home yet, then. Because you wanted to grow to like her. She wouldn’t have been the one for you if you guys fucked that very night. So it was your choice was it? You were dead sure she was going home with you if you so much so as asked.
Is that the mistake? Loving someone you met at a place of your daily vice; Of booze and cigarettes. Casual commitments of pretentious emotions.
Everything was wrong about finding love that night. She was so friendly. She gave herself away so easy that night. She laughed at all your jokes. She must be patronizing. I bet she’s a pro, luring guys every other night.
Guys love talking to her. You bet, she loves that attention. She’ll lap em up. Her body was made for sins. She does that thing before you fuck her. You know. the thing they do in porn. You bet it’s because she rents her body to pay her bills. She’s so good at what she does. She cooks for you and plays games with you. Wow, you are starting to think she must have been a really experienced kept woman. Like Coco Chanel but void of the entrepreneurship. Or was it Anastasia in 50 shades?
But where is her fancy ass car?
So yes, I looked back. I was just that girl you met randomly that night, at the place of vice. Someone who gave herself to you too easily and made you believe she could do it with anyone else. Someone who loved you in a different way from what you envisioned it to be. You didn’t want her gift of expensive shoes although you loved flashy things. (What an irony?) You didn’t want a girl who could drink, you didn’t need a girl who could play computer games because now there are mind games going forth in your heads.
Why couldn’t I have been a girl doing a 9-5, you probably thought out loud to yourself.
That was when I realized how my love became my greatest mistake. I wasn’t your average Jane. I became a superstar wife for you only to realize you never wanted the shiny trophies. There wasn’t a need for standing ovations. You merely wanted the recognition for coming into the limelight, for me.
Heart feels like shattered glass. And well, that girl you once knew, is already gone.
But she has a P.S. for you. “I never went home with anybody.”
2020 hasn’t exactly been the best year so far isn’t it? And it’s only January. The world is slowly falling apart… and yet some people are too self entitled to notice. People are abusing antibiotics, racism still exists and we are still enslaved to money, which indeed, is the root to all problems. It literally is the cause of all the things we are facing now. Global warming, war, modern diseases, it all comes from greed.
For me? Speaking as a 29 year old – I sure didn’t live through WW2, but I am part of that particular batch of kids in Singapore to see through the blackboard halfway through school, the nokia to smartphones phase, lived through SARS, played block catching instead of computer games, got caned by my parents instead of watching talking TOM, got addicted to computer games (oh, the irony), last few batch of EM 1 2 3 streamed children, sold ice cream as a teen and having seen all these, I cherish what I had before, now even more than ever.
I value the dollar, and all the pretty things it can buy. But the same shiny dollar has shown me the true face of some friendships as well as costed me some. Boy, have I worked hard to polish it till it shines. I will work hard to make sure this devilish coin never turns me into a monster in the fervent pursuit of it.
I made some new year resolutions along the way, and as mentioned in my previous post, the sense of satisfaction is real strong with this one. However, this year’s resolutions consists of alot more things that are non-monetary. I wish to give back to the world to the best that I can.
Hence, after so much crap that I just wrote, I am just here to give my annual birthday wishlist because my friends complain they have no idea what to get for me. (But its real hard to come up with things I want to have)
In summary, I am trying to say, Gee thanks for all these beautiful items that cost money. In the end, as long as we are living and breathing in this current society, we are all mice running for that slice of cheddar.
Unless of course, n-cov has the power to bring upon an apocalypse. But don’t worry guys, it will not. Please stop hogging the masks.
1. DYSON AIRWRAP (Pink) 700$
Little motherfucker looks too good to be true and I want to be an ignorant, retarded customer who falls for all these pretty schemes.
2. LOVEEEE. LV NeoNoe MM Monogram bag (Rose Poudre) 2.3k
Been wanting to promote to being a full fledged auntie and there’s no better way than to carry an LV carry-all for all your kiasu needs. Tissue paper, blotting paper, waterbottle, umbrella, surgical mask, portable charger and passport in case you need to travel to JB asap for cheaper discount sales.
(On a side note I have been wanting this dream bag for the longesttttt time)
3. Chanel 19 long zipped wallet (In black or cream) 1.8k
Im obsessed with the chanel 19 design. Its beautiful, clean and plushy.
4. Chanel 19 wallet on chain (Black or cream) 4.4k
5. Ipad pro 11, 512gb with cellular, (Silver) 1.9k
6. Mobile legends 5000 + 1000 diamonds top up 150$
Probably the most useless out of the lot… but whatever. D; At least I am not an idiot pumping money into the blood sucking, ugly Dota 2 compendiums anymore.
7. ABSOLUTE WANTTTTT! Le Creuset is on V’day promo omg. (Cherry red) 388$
I want to cook all my stupid shit inside this fancy pot, I don’t care.
8. Loccitane Citrus Verbena refreshing water gel. 48$
Its limited edition so I don’t know if there’s any left. How sad. I was too busy buying Christmas gifts for others (Not getting many back in return) and spending a truck load on stupid people to realize I should have just grabbed it for myself. 😦
10. Dining at Stellar, at 1 altitude. 9 course elements 228 ++ $
Would definitely love to be visually seduced by the night sky and tantalized on my tastebuds.
I never knew it could be so hard to come up with a wishlist. Its probably the age. Because now I want things I really need but cannot have, such as a house, and a car, and a lizard.
Good morning everyone! It took me a year to make a new post. And currently with my random peaking visits on my site, I am starting to feel all my viewers are bots. Which can actually be a great thing.
For the rest of my human friends, here I am again. I am very determined this year – To complete all of my new year resolutions. Procrastination, as mentioned once by a famous person; is like masturbation.It feels good at first, but in the end, you realize you are just fucking with yourself.
I completed a few most important goals last year and the feeling was fantastic. It gave me a frenzied spur of motivation. I want to relive that sense of achievement all over again!
One of my goals this year includes: Buying my long-longed for blue tongue skink. REALLY!!?!?!? YES!!!!!!
That aside, I have a new year resolution which has never been achieved before. And that’s:
TWO BLOG POSTS A MONTH
Here I am asking myself like “HELLO? WILL IT KILL YOU TO MASH SOME RANDOM BUTTONS ON YOUR KEYBOARD FOR TWICE A MONTH” Because yes the irony is I trashtalk people by furiously spamming a slew of uncouth words every day (MLBB can get real toxic) but I frown and belch upon looking at the plain white wordpress screen every time i open my browser.
I am left with 2 more days to cough out my second blog post for this month AND I WILL DO IT.
Ok, enough of this. I cannot overpromise because I made a pact with the satan inside me and the loser will face disastrous calamities.
I am here to blog about my recent trip, its an Osaka trip and I have previously done a “Sordidly honest reivew” about Japan here:
Today, I am just here to share with you guys what I have rediscovered about Osaka. I hope it will be useful for some of you out there, who aren’t bots.
We shall first start by a popular name: ICHIRAN RAMEN
All the kiasu Singaporeans and Malaysians will be gushing about it saying “OMG YES THIS IS THE WORLD’S MOST DELICIOUS RAMEN” and proceed to queue about 1.5hours in the cold Japan air for it.
Ichiran lives up to its touristy hype as this ramen is very structured in its noodles, springy and distinctive in its texture. The soup base is flavorful and it’s really suited to our locals’ taste buds. But I love drinking soup, so because of how rich and oily the soup is, I cannot drink too much of it. D:
I am here to tell you a little fun fact about Ichiran. For all of you people who keep showing off your photos boasting about how rich you are to have traveled far and wide to Japan and queued to eat this bowl of piping hot stuff and that its the BEST noodles ever in hopes your 430 instagram followers will be envious, I hate to break it to you, but Ichiran is considered peasant food.
That’s right~ Japanese, just like Koreans, still have this super clear High SES Low SES shit going on where the job position you hold determines whether you eating Wagyu teppanyaki or Ichiran for dinner.
Sounds funny? But no it isn’t. I only found out about this back when I was in SQ doing a flight to Tokyo and my Singaporean colleagues were raving about Ichiran and asking all of us to go. (I had ichiran back when I was flying for Jetstar but I never knew it was famous. Maybe that was before the Touristy hype)
They asked the Japanese stewardesses if they would like to join and the senior, tactful and polite being how Japanese are, said “No, please go ahead. We will be unable to join you.”
“Aww why????” My overly enthusiastic junior replied. And then, being how curt and cruel Japanese can also be, the senior replied “Because in Japan, that is food for the working class. And because we are air stewardesses, we are not allowed to eat at Ichiran. We eat elsewhere. Its ok, please queue together with the other tourists. I am sure it is delicious. ” She ended it with a short dry laugh and I loved every moment of it.
If you are going to OSAKA, check out the Ichiran at Dotonburi. In fact, there are alot of good stuff at Dotonburi. Its the one-stop district for tourists. Enjoy the takoyaki balls while you are waiting for your turn at Ichiran. It should only take about 1-1.5 hours to be seated; that isn’t a problem for Singaporeans, is it? HAHA.
80 year old man’s balls:
Since we are on this topic, OSAKA is known for their takoyaki and okonomiyaki – You will find many takoyaki stalls everywhere in Dotonburi. I tried a few stalls. This one I featured below, has been pretty talked about online. Kukuru
I tried the stall right next to Ichiran ramen at Dotonburi as well. That shop had a catchy song playing for you while you wait but I can’t fucking remember because well, both of these stalls have really wrinkly and saggy balls that didn’t quite go down agreeably with my palate.
I loooooove tako balls and thus you could imagine my lust for em balls when I heard Osaka is famous for em piping starchy rounds. However, I think that the takoyaki balls aren’t really made well. The balls should be crisp and firm on the outside but soft on the inside. I am not sure is it because they are rushing to cater to the crowd (unlikely for Japanese since they take pride in their stuff) so they did not wait for the outside to become firmer before serving – As you can see in the photo above, the ball broke apart just as I tried to hold it up.
They were literally like old people’s ballsacks where it sagged too much and were unable to keep shape. However, I really loved Kukuru’s octopus bits. They were fresh and cooked to perfection.
Hence, I believe perhaps Japanese love to eat their tako balls with the texture of an 80 year old man’s ballsacks. Our preference just differs. But all’s good. Yum.
FUUUUUUUUUGGGGUUUU no gooooooo
Another thing to try in OSAKA which can also be found in Dotonburi, is this Fugu, Pufferfish. I did not try it, not because I am afraid of dying (You need a license to prepare em) But because it pained me to see the cute little spikey boys in the small little tanks awaiting their fate 😦
Two places worth a visit:
UNIVERSAL STUDIOS JAPAN
No photos needed for you I guess. It’s a must-visit for everyone. May I just advise, you will definitely need the express pass. You can buy it from Klook just like everyone. If you don’t buy it, don’t bother going because I queued 1.8 hours for the stupid minions children ride, and this was OFF-PEAK SEASON.
The scariest rides: Hollywood dream, (They have the GOSTAN version) and Flying dinosaur. Don’t worry. Just scream until your lungs collapse. You will make it out alive.
And may I also advise, please read your Klook terms and conditions properly because the express pass has FIXED timings that you must adhere to in order to use the “Cut queue service”.
I am not usually one for walks in the winter cold, nor one who likes to be close to grass. (Not sure if my human readers know but I have an irrational fear of grass) However, I bought this entrance ticket on Klook and I was pleasantly surprised.
I know it kinda sound like I am advertising Klook, but ya’ll know, I really had no idea what to do in OSAKA since it was like my 5th time there. Thus I found this walk which is similar to the Rainforest Lumina we have in Singapore. I didn’t go for the SG one because I heard it was hot, stuffy and crowded af.
The one in OSAKA is so fucking amazing. The photos and videos don’t do justice. I swear its beautiful and trippy and calming at the same time. Fucking oxymoron.
So basically you are on a trip (in JAPANESE) to help a girl from da future get home to her mama or Ahma, whichever.
You can scan the QR to play some game.
I am not very sure if your kids will love it because some children seemed pretty restless but I enjoyed every minute of it. The music makes you feel as if you have transcended to heaven or some shit.
So basically after you have “Helped” the girl on her quest, there’s a special treat for you. WELL, YOU PROBABLY HAD NO IDEA THAT YOU HELPED HER CUZ U DON’T UNDERSTAND SHIT THAT THEY ARE SAYING (But there’s English translation)
Not that it really matters because fuck yeah the lights are so gorgeous.
So you will end at OSAKA castle, but not inside la. Just the wall outside. 😀
So theres this projection on the wall…. if you walk closer to examine they are flowers with your faces on em.
YAAAAAAS ITS ME HAHAHAHA. Retarded.
SG > JP AQUARIUM
I hate to sound like a dick, but I was very disappointed in the state of OSAKA’s aquarium. I do understand it could be due to wear and tear, but it shouldn’t be an excuse. I love the marine life and I love visiting aquariums.
I felt that Singapore’s SEA aquarium did a whopping great job. It was beautiful, user friendly, fishy friends there were well looked after and the admission price is reasonable.
It was on my Must visit list the last time I went to Osaka, but our itinerary was too packed. Unwilling to pass on the chance this time round, I found an offer on klook which gave free tickets to the aquarium with purchase of the USJ entrance tickets. Very worth it!!!
OSAKA AQUARIUM KAIYUKAN, JAPAN
I hate that all the interiors of the fish tanks were bare. Like there was hardly any seaweed, coral, man-made decoration, or even things like sand, pebbles etc. The worst thing was. THERE WAS NO BACKGROUND PAPER. I mean, Nemo could look at the bleak, blue background and never find Dory again. BUT WHY? Why so low effort. The tanks all look like a literal swimming pool. The ground was… ground. like our human floors.
The fishes probably couldn’t care less about the background but why don’t they have some seaweed or corals? To feel more at home?
If you have a packed schedule, I suggest to give this place a miss. It’s definitely not worth dedicating half a day of your precious holiday to it.
NARA PARK (again -__- )
If you think you love smelly, rude and slightly violent deers, then yay, Nara park is the place for you. Calling for all animal lovers, its a must visit. Easy to navigate from Osaka or kyoto.
Note: Do not go to Nara Park too late.
It was my second time visiting Nara Park and hence I was lazy. Reached there around 3pm.
THE DEERS WERE FUCKING FULL. You literally had to beg them to take your biscuit because they were so stuffed by the visitors who went earlier.
TIP: If you want a beautiful selfie with the deer calm and facing the screen, ALWAYS APPROACH A RESTING DEER.
I see people trying to take photos with deers on the roads/on the prowl. They may butt you if you go too close cuz they are hungry and can’t be bothered to wait around and take a pic.
Do not disturb it too much or provoke it. Simply bend down, inch closer to let it know your presence. If it wants a biscuit, give it. If you offer and it turns away, it’s full. You may then go closer, pat it if you want.
I rubbed the one in the photo above. It was grumpy at first because it didn’t want anymore food but people keep trying to make it eat. I rubbed between its ears and it was happy (it was squinting eyes like that in the pic to show approval) Then I snapped as many pics as I wanted.
NOTE: Please take care of your kids. THE DEERS CAN REALLY BUTT YOU even if they have no horns, THEY WILL BITE your shirts etc.
You may choose your destination and they will show you who’s offering what class. Since I love eating soba noodles hence I chose it over the typical sushi/bento making. It costs about 55sgd per pax.
The trainer was real friendly and understanding. We were 10 minutes late but he waited patiently in the cold and told us not to rush. He has been making soba for 5 years. He was real skillful and polite.
After you cut the noodles, he will ask you to go upstairs to wait. 10mins later, your own (pretty ugly) soba noodles is served. Its delicious af.
You will then get a small gift and you get to take photos around his quaint little shop which is very traditional.
Overall, it was a great experience and at least now I can ATTEMPT to make edible soba noodles at home. However, I just wish we could watch him cook the noodles. I couldn’t comprehend why we had to wait upstairs when he was preparing em. LOL
I would recommend taking up a cooking class like this if you love cooking just like me. It’s a good skill and it doesn’t take up much time. The entire class only took about 2.5hours including eating.
NO ONSEN? NO PROBLEM.
If you have tattoos, don’t worry- Just make sure your homestay/hotel comes with a small tub. Most stays have em because Japanese people love their soaks.
SO DO I. Anyway, I stayed at this super small and cute lil apartment and their bath tub was literally a square. IT WAS A SQUARE meaning you sit cross legged. Sorry to those who are either toooooooo tall or slightly chubbier; It’s gonna be hard to fit HAHAHAHA.
And may I just remind you, DISNEYLAND TOKYO has this bath tub too. AND THE STAY THERE COSTS LIKE 260 SGD A NIGHT.
EXTRA observations about the train platforms which I never noticed:
As yall know, I am a road idiot and Japan is so fucking huge and their train maps look like wriggly snakes to me. I always found it super tiring to take their trains but you know, peasants like us need to take train because the taxis are just IMPOSSIBLY costly.
So anyway yes only this time do I realize, that because there are so many train routes, the platform you are on may have more than one train passing by. And since you know everything is in Japanese, it is pretty hard to understand anything.
I REALIZED there are triangles and circles on the board (pic below) and the train that comes by WILL HAVE THE TRIANGLE OR CIRCLE that corresponds. (This is useful because ITS ALSO ON YOUR TICKET)
And then THEY HAVE THE STICKERS on the ground directing you to placement in which the doors will open. As different trains have different lengths etc, they indicate the triangles and circles on the stickers
SO THAT YOU WOULDN’T BE STANDING AT A PLACE WHERE THE SPECIFIC TRAIN WOULDN’T HAVE A DOOR THERE FOR YOU HAHAHA.
In other words, its to save you trouble and embarrassment hahahahaha. (Note pic below has both triangle and circle. Some stickers only have 1 of each.)
Total foolproof guide for a retard like me. I feel stupid like , OK SURE I know many of you realized that long ago BUT ITS A BREAKTHROUGH FOR ME, i don’t care what you wanna say. HAHA
Lastly, if you plan to use their automated laundromat:
I had alot of winter wear and was lazy to bring em home. It’ll cause my mother inconvenience cuz knowing her, she will never allow me to wash em myself for fear I fuck up the washing machine.
You can find laundromats anywhere near homestay apartments. I am here to let you know the approx. price. It’s about 800 yen (10.50 sgd) for 14kg load (Two people’s 5 days worth of winter clothes excluding light winter jackets)
The drying really kills you. It’s 100yen (1.30 sgd) PER 10 MINUTES
I spun my stupid clothes for like 90 mins AND SOME PARTS WEREN’T COMPLETELY DRY BUT I WAS TOO POOR TO CARE 😀
So bo hua but laziness…. and convenience, brooo.
Something that will come in handy for your first Japan trip:
A easily reachable COIN POUCH.
Because you will get alot of coins, and you also need ALOT of coins for all your train rides. Keep them within reach so you wouldn’t choke up the lines. People will grumble.
Also, no eating or drinking inside Family Mart itself. It’s not allowed (in OSAKA) and the store keeper will yell at you. Yes, speaking from experience.
I hope my post adds to the user friendliness of experiences never mentioned before in travel blogs.
Good night everyone, and Happy Chinese new year. Keep your heads held up and your masks on tight. >: D
*humming* Sars is a virus… that we just want to minus……..
I heard the scuttle it made as it scurried past me. I tried to bend my knees more, conscious of my naked body sitting bare against the cold hard steel. Images of roaches crawling into the victims’ warm orifices and then eating their way out flashes through my mind.
I shifted myself repeatedly, in a bid to chase it away. The roach finally gave me a break as it ran out from my cage, disappearing into a crack within the wall.
My chains dragged on the steel bars of the small containment I am trapped in. Tired, I rested my weary wrists on my tummy. The metal handcuffs bore the weight of the heavy chains, clanging, metal against metal with every move I make.
Then, I heard him. I could smell him. Creak…. And the door opens. The stench of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey permeated the hot evening air, mingling with the foul muskiness of the room I was kidnapped in.
He could barely walk straight. Is there a chance to escape??
It’s hard to believe that merely a few hours ago, I was just another overly troubled teenager with zit problems and stupid puppy love. Between drugstore mascara and sharing clothes, I had been persuaded by my best friend, Chloe, to join the biggest Summer party down by the coast where they had “Endless alcohol in Solo cups and free drugs”.
A wrong turn somewhere and the next thing I know, here I am, in an abandoned and dingy shed and where my cries are drowned out by relentless traffic. If that’s any consolation, at least I am sure I am still in the city, and not whisked off to a jungle – I have Hastenburaphobia. A fear of grass.
Given how uptight Chloe is, I live through every second knowing that somewhere out there, She has probably alerted my family and there’s a search party out there looking for me. That’s the light at the end of this grim, gruesome tunnel.
The light bulb above us dangled precariously as he almost tripped over the wire.
He slammed his almost finished Whiskey bottle onto the table, shocking me out of my thoughts. I could see the beard stubs on his chin going up as he twisted his lips into a knowing grin. I know what that meant.
My nipples started to get erect as I stiffened and my heart blasted rapidly against my chest. It’s really a fucking strange thing as to why would my body even react this way to non consensual rape. I could feel my vagina with its silky liquid lubricating its insides and my nether lips.
He fumbled for the keys, ambling around haphazardly. The huge padlock dropped onto the dusty floor with a loud thud. The cage was open. With one full sweeping notion, he scooped me out of the metal box and pushed me onto the floor. My hands were fighting hard against the cuffs. I could see the rust around them. I was doing my best to wriggle my way out.
I was in the compromised position, as how he wanted it. My legs were spread open, so wide I could feel my vagina blush. He could not stop clicking his tongue, making sounds of excitement and lust upon the view in front of him. His belt then came undone as he got out of his pants and onto his knees. He was ready to fuck me.
He bent forward, wanting to feed on my breasts. His coarse palms felt as though they were scraping against my skin. I could see noticeable amount of dirt on them – Is that sand? Are we close to the beach?
Wriggle. Wriggle. I frantically fought the cuffs.
His stubby chin raked up a tender sore as he moved gingerly across my chest, lapping up the softness of my twin peaks like a cat. His tongue lashed around hungrily as he let out groans of frenzied pleasure. He grabbed onto my breasts so hard, and jiggled them to relish at my whimpered cries.
I wanted to resist him so bad, but it felt so good. My nipples were begging to be sucked on. Harder and harder, I wriggled my wrists against the cuffs. That was my brain’s only attempt at fighting this tantamount high building inside me. My body was no longer governed by my mind. Juices were seeping out from between my legs. My pussy was begging to be fucked.
With one hand and fondling my breasts, he plunged his fingers deep within my awaiting crevice. I moaned uncontrollably in a state of ecstasy that I could not deny. He was working hard against my g-spot and I could feel my vagina spewing liquid like waves that would make surfers proud.
Wriggle.. wriggle. I was subconsciously tugging at the cuffs whilst my body worked its way with his fingers to a towering orgasm. “AHHHHH!” I shrieked, my voice penetrating the otherwise stale environment. The climax peaked as I began to squirt. My legs started to tremble as my tiny frame was at the brink of collapse, as though unable to house an ejaculation that big.
Juices were everywhere as I squirted all over his shirt. He then took his Abercombie & Fitch T shirt off. “You fukin nasty whore”. He grinned.
Wait. A & F T shirt? Why is that so familiar? My brain tried its best to whiz to life, fighting the fervor that was still gushing through my body.
I could see his cock, standing so hard with the veins snaking all over it. I felt my legs spreading wider. I wanted him to fuck me so badly.
Is this some sort of a twisted Stockholm syndrome? Or am I really just a fucking slut as he coined I was?
With that, he rammed hard into me. It was almost like a kick start on an AED. My moans bounced off the walls before they were gradually drowned out by the ambient noises. It felt so good it was as though I could not breathe. He grabbed at my breasts as he rocked me harder and harder.
His face always seemed fuzzy before. As though from a dream. I furrowed my brows, amid my cries, trying to focus on his face. Trying to connect the dots.
Wriggle.. Wriggle Wriggle. I tugged harder at the cuffs. I am so close to breaking free!
He pounded me harder, as though too caught up in the lewd delight that he was oblivious to my escape plan. My body jerked so hard, my breasts were flinging wildly in the air, nipples tender and needing to be abused.
“I am going to come soon, baby”. He groaned. His orgasm was close.
No time to think. This was my chance to escape. I just had to fight the pleasure that has latched itself onto me like a parasite. I willed my brain to think.
My hands started to be compliant as I gave the tug all I got against the rusty cuffs.
“CRACK”. The cuffs! They fell off!!!
I stared at my hands. They were free. My brain was hauling into overdrive.
I was free???? Everything in my vision started to change.
“Aiden???” My eyes finally focused, as I zoomed in on my perpetrator’s face. He was still going at it, fucking me and grinning.
“Fuck yeah baby are you out of your high? Should have cut down on that fucking pill Lesly was dishing out.” Aiden was working up a sweat, and showed no signs of slowing down as I was still trying to put everything together.
I could feel his cock wedging itself snugly against my walls. With my free hands, I pinched at my nipples, scooping my breasts up with my palms. The lust builds up all over again, but this time, the run-down environment has melted away.
We were in a makeshift tent set up at the beach party. The cuffs were merely imaginary – It was a mechanism devised by my brain, a battle between the drug’s manipulation and my conscious.
I am the victor.
The effects is now no longer something I fight to subjugate. I could feel my brain giving me a little high five. It can now rest and flow with the euphoria it was trying so hard to control.
I threw my head back and pulled Aiden in close, now fully reveling in the high. “Come for me babe.” I whispered to him, shifting my body to fully envelope his shaft. Aiden grinned again, hands on my hips and shook me up in a hot, violent embrace. I could feel myself ready to squirt again.
Was so preoccupied with setting up my exclusive telegram group and making sure everything is on track. Things are getting along fine now so here I am again on my writings. Please do drop me an email if you are keen on joining the paid telegroup.
BACK ON TRACK ~
I have just done my second treatment of REJURAN, as some of you beauty lovers may know- been wanting to try that out since last year and I only managed to do the 2nd treatment late last month.
NOTE: SLIGHTLY DISTURBING PICS/GIFS if you have phobia of needles.
Just to jog the memory for those of you who are interested in getting this treatment, that you are required to do it in this sequence:
You need 3-4 treatments per month for the first 4 months. After which, you will only need 1 maintenance visit between the next 6-9 months and thereafter.
I do actually personally recommend this for the matured ladies. I think that’s when you can feel the maximum effectiveness of this treatment.
I also did a nose threadlift together with my rejuran, because why not right? I done it under Ryan as well (from the same clinic I am featuring here) before and I really love the results because its so natural and beautiful. I received comments from followers that I shouldn’t be doing the threadlift because my nose is already nice and sharp but I personally felt that the threadlift helped me make it look just alittle slimmer and perkier, and the best is that
Your nose structure permanently adheres to this shape as time goes by.
Meaning even if you don’t go for the annual touch-ups anymore, it will always maintain the shape. Which is awesome! And I love that it isn’t a permanent nose job. The kind where you need to worry if someone punches you in the face.
So let’s begin our journey –
PARDON MY UGLY PHOTOS LMAO. So, I am in the holding room where the nurse will apply the numbing gel onto my face.
You then go into the waiting room to lounge and wait for the gel to take effect. The staff here are so friendly it always makes me feel like I am at home.
I literally just slept there. On the couch HAHAHA.
The wait is about 30-40mins depending on your absorption and HOW MUCH OF A PUSSY ARE YOU.
OKAY ITS TIMEEEEE
ITEMS FOR REJURAN + NOSE THREADLIFT BOTH.
Since the nose threadlift is going to require more numbness, Ryan applied the anesthetic syringes onto my nose first. I’m telling you this pain is so unreal.
PAIN METER: 3.5/5 GAOWEI-NESS: 4/5
Once the injections are set, the Rejuran injections commences.
REJURAN HEALER, NO 2 VISIT
As mentioned in my first rejuran post, they have that handy dildo/vibrator thing to distract you while the doc pierces your fucking face multiple times. It’s really quite effective lol. However you will still feel the sting. After awhile, you just get used to the pain.
USED TO, not NUMB. you will still feel it and cringe internally every single time.
This entire process probably takes less than 5 minutes. And ta dah!!! You will soon have fish DNA coursing through ur face, trying to make you turn from a 5/10 to a 10/10 babe. HAHAHAHA.
The rejuran healer at this clinic is on promotion now, you can get it at 388$ excl.gst for the first time trial. Go book an appointment now or call if you are interested to know more.
NOTE, this is not an advertisement for the clinic!
I just really like what service I have been getting, and 388$ is way below the market price for such a 5 star clinic that I decided to blog about it.
NOSE THREAD LIFT
My favorite guilty indulgence of all time – Because I never liked my nose even though yes its already quite nice on its own. I just really am obsessed with the sharpness and defined outline of the Caucasians – especially Russian girls. They hella hot.
Your nose should already be numb by now. Syringe anesthesia is freaking strong and fast. Nurse will pad up your eyes so you will not be tempted to get cock-eyed from looking at your own nose. And also because it’s fucking scary.
Ryan then begins with making a hole in the center of the nose – That’s where the threads are going to be inserted into.
I am actually having goosebumps right now looking at the gif LOL FUCK. So after the threads are inserted, (U WILL NOT FEEL ANYTHING other than pressure, because of the numbness)
Thank the great heavens. And thus, the number of threads inserted also depends on how “Jialat” your nose is or if you wanna end up looking like a Plastic doll from korea then hell yeah, insert 1000 threads.
I only got a few because I do not require that many to achieve a nice look.
Lastly, Ryan will press press your nose as if its PLAY-DOH and try to shape it up to look higher and more defined.
10 mins – and you are done. It’s no wonder they call this threadlift the “Lunch-time Nose job” LOL. You can still make it in time to grab a subway before heading back to work. Science is motherfucking amazing.
Remove the pads, and you good to go GIRL.
You will definitely bruise, but the bruising is up to individuals. Ryan is really amazing and I don’t have much of a bruise on my 2nd and 3rd threadlift. (This is my 3rd).
LOOK AT THAT BRIDGE. I CAN NOW CONNECT AMERICA TO INDONESIA ON MY NOSE.
Pro tip: Do a mask over a few consecutive days while your pores are raw and open from the multiple injections. This way, all the guuuud stuff goes in easily.
I used SK II clear lotion and the overpriced SK II Mask on the first night, and DR MORITA on the subsequent nights.
Can you see that my face is actually glowing? It’s not oil. It’s matt and bouncy.
Notice the wound on the nose tip has healed and waiting to scab and fall off. My skin is still glowing. But I think its the effect of the SK II Mask as well.
The wounds are all healed and look at the fucking quality of my skin after my first wash in the morning.
Please note all these healing photos are taken on my iPhone without filters.
Other than my eye bags, My skin is really immaculate. I have several pits on my cheeks due to a bad acne outbreak during my younger years. But I could see visible change on the overall texture of my face. The glow is still there, and I think its the slow build up of the rejuran’s effect.
Sorry, my eye bags are crazy because I have been lacking sleep due to work. HAHAHA. But yes. I am extremely happy about the results of the Rejuran.
I recommend this for people who have dull and yellow skin like me with ageing problems. I am an old auntie liao… hehe.
With filter. IM TELLING YA, SNOW APP is absolut-fucking-amazing. And can you see my god damn nose bridge. HAHAHA.
Save your money girls, THIS IS DEFINITELY WORTH IT. Feel free to email me if you have additional questions regarding either of the treatments.
TCS Aesthetics Central Clinic,
8 Eu Tong Sen Street, The Central Office One, #11-90