Sprechen sie sloven sloth?

I have always wanted a readership. A vision that is alas, smutted by my slovenly slothfulness. I am averse to writing and by the strangulation of fate, approved by the NSW Board of Education, I find myself plonked into a largely-writing based uni course: Media and Communications. Oh how I missed the childhood days of immaculately translating Malay into English—simple, brilliant English for which I received my ‘Good Girl’, ‘Keep Up The Good Work!’ and ‘BAGUSNYA!’ stamps.

Those days are gone, and along with them, my pigtails, my routinely wet bed sheet, and my BDSM, erotica days with a fellow girl who delighted in telling stories of one faceless man’s perversions against one faceless woman in fishnets. Parents, do think twice before admitting your honeybees and sonny-boyos into same-sex schools. You might just produce someone like me, yours yoursfully,

Vic.

This is the quite possibly fifth blog I have set up, and most probably the fifth to be forgotten, to be left ravaged by the scores of bored, blasé eyes like yours. If you have grey eyes dear reader, or even brown eyes framed by wild locks, could I perhaps entreat you to leave a little sweet nothing on my blog? For you may just revive it in times of blog drought. Phwoar.

A new blog demands introduction. We homo sapiens are downright addicted to slapping on labels, boxing up the un-boxable into neat categories. Why not? After all, the world is whirling with information; a sun jar abuzz with a million fireflies. And I am (not especially) sorry to say that I have no blog mission, no vision statements to offer you. “Show, don’t tell”, said my English masters and ma’ams, who were far and wide ranging in personalities and appearances. They were Pn. L— who scorned Aussies who paid RM7.50 ($2.30) per sandwich, Pn. H—who loved that I expressed my preference for her over the Mathematics instructor through strings of pitying (and pitiful) poesy, the kindly Pn. S— who nursed my hallucinations and (real) fears of a neighbourly stalker, Mr. W—who united the divided, the ever-irreverent Mr. S—who loved his spicy Austen innuendos, and Mr. M—who was best in the worst of times.

Poor Pn. L—, how disappointed would you be, for your star student pays $7.50 (RM24.46) per sandwich these days.

I like to think I’ve been called a great many things, none of which are “great” or “spicy” I’m afraid. I have a great many interests, totalling ninety-nine, which according to John Stuart Mill, should sum up to one whole belief: “One person with a belief is a social power equal to ninety-nine who have only interests.” I do love aesthetic beauty, since I myself possess nought but a pinch, so expect a sprinkling of updates on style (not trends!).

You’ll be on my mind,

Vic, mwah mwah!

p.s. I will be posting at least one video per post, purely for self-gratification but who knows, it may well serve as some bitchy, backfiring mea culpa or testimonial alibi one day. TESTIFY, sista! For your ears will be duly sweetened by a favourite song of mine!

Goodness.

It’s ‘Mind of Love’ by k.d. lang, gents and ladies…