I am kul. lol

Hey, check it out, all you crazy fellas.




Good for a coupla lols.
lol lol.
there.

This is my blog in a nutshell. or well, in a wordle.
lol.
oops, lol, this was good enough for 2 lols only.


waitaminute... DAMNIT.

lollers.

Mr. POOP: ":|"

Happy Independence Day Part II

Yep, that was part one.
I thought of editing that previous post and appending this post to that one but then decided not to.
I made a decision and I'm going to stick to it. That's just the kind of person I am.....

Anyway.

So I left you guys (er, guy) at the point where a cute female had smiled at me. Too bad I told you how old she was. A better writer than me would have gone for the cliff-hanger. The mystery and suspense to keep you eagerly anticipating the return of the bloggist. Only to provide a tame ending to a rather promising preposition.

Er, Anyway.

If I had been a kid, I would have wanted to become an announcer guy at a huge fucking mall when I grew up. It was amazing, the atmosphere. The announcing. The music. I actually felt like dancing. Ok, no I didn't, but people did bump into me and made me shrug my shoulders as if in a dance move. Ok, so I did feel like breaking into a jig once.
I spent quite a large portion of me time, crafting a fictional career for myself as an announcer guy. I would start small, making announcements about stuff on sale. Soon, I would be making decisions on the sales to be put up, making big decisions. Then, I would become the manager of this branch of the chain. And finally, I would end up as owner of the brand. And all this would be just a chapter in my eventful and highly successful life. Oh and I would still do announcing and even get more offers to make announcements at a variety of different places. yay.

One of the easiest things a person could do there at that time was to get himself lost. And that I certainly did. A lot of times. The path of least resistance and whatnot.

During one of my 'Oops, I'm lost again' times, I came across a girl whose T-shirt informed me that she "has more new friend requests than" me. I said phooey and moved on, hoping to get reunited with my mother.
Another time while I was lost and looking for some familiar landmark, I suddenly realised that my trolley had turned rather lighter and noisier. In that extremely noisy place, a little more noise didn't bother me, and happy with the trade-off, I happily tugged along. To my chagrin, a woman came over soon after, handed my trolley to me and took away her pram, which I had just taken for a stroll along the furniture and home appliances section.
The 8th time I got lost, I got quite frustrated. I was looking around, trying to home in on someone, something, anything... and then I saw it. Cleavage. Mighty Cleavage. There it was, some rather good cleavage, standing behind and above some racks in line at the check out counter (ahahaha). She looked like a hot blonde at first glance. A second, more attentive glance confirmed the fact. A third, still more attentive glance brought forward further information that she was in fact an Indian hot blonde, who must have had black hair when she was born. Just then, she bent down, presumably to touch her toes and I forgot all about her origins. Or the fact that I was lost. Or the fact that someone was piling stuff from my trolley to his.

In fact, I don't remember much else about the trip, except that the bill was rather substantial and that we got some gift coupons. Which I have to go and redeem sometime in September. Hmm....



And I know that I this post could have shaped out a bit better, but well... I'm sleepy.
maybe later.