D'You Know What I Mean?

candid moments of Raya in words

seizing the boyfriend up for a minor transgression while thinking about the quickest way to inflict physical pain when...
null: Do you want my sister's wedges on your nuggets?
i choked on smoke. the phrase of the day. wedges on your nuggets.

Momma: What are you doing?
I am leaning forward in the car with the digicam
Me: I'm trying to get Papa's boots and car in the frame
Sister: What for?
Me: I want to capture the tackiness in one shot
Null snickers and mumbles, "You'resuchafucker."

my father godforsaken car is going to be the running joke of this century. the boyfriend says it's the kinda car you pick up cheena chicks with along Mohd Sultan. take a good guess what it is.

Sister: here's my present to you. i didn't have time to wrap it up so just take it
Me: what's this? (indicating a price tag still attached to it)
Cousin rolled around laughing, "That's how much you're worth to her, fool."

my first birthday present. oh well, 'twas a nice gesture anyways even if i'm worth $6.90 to my sister. we got turned away from secret recipe. my mother was adamant about getting a cake from that place. i slipped out of the house as soon as i could because i wasn't keen on cake. that's enough kuih for one day.

slipped out and watched:

there's something quite entertaining in watching Beverley Hills sun-kissed kiddies trynna gangstar their way out of trouble. we're talking MTV, glossed over, mommy and daddy have money kinda gangster. not Harlem, Brooklyn, Hell's Kitchen kinda drive-bys, shoot-out shindigs. it's like the skirmishes that are always going down at MOS these days, only on a larger scale.

Emile Hirsch's pretty good. Dominique Swain's hot even though she's whinny bitch Susan in Alpha Dog. love your body. i should work out. and the Joan of Arcadia dude, Chris Marquette -dude, there is just something Marliyn Manson-esque about you. it's probably the black curtain hair. unsettlingly hot. Ben Foster is off-the-hook! kinda like Edward Norton on acid in American History X. Justin? no comment. it should have been Emile Hirsch on them posters, y'know.

so Saturday came to a close and the boyfriend haloed by a Heine buzz says: do you know i saw Mika's Big Girls. he's such a kanina he made white pants work with his hair... YOUR HAIR!

after which, i did a Jarvis Cocker shuffle in my own white pants and was given a birthday wish. felt like Freddie Mercury in the end.