Since I always make it a point to talk about the most silly and inconsequential things ever, I was kinda wondering, why not write a post which is dark.You know, about serious stuff.

Therefore, I've decided to write about the black heads on my nose.See what makes this issue serious is the fact that I never knew they existed, the black heads on my nose I mean.So as you can understand, I have this almost-wannabe-dishy story coming up, regarding my nose and suchlike, let me first give you a taste of history.


I first heard the word "blackheads" way back in 2003, I think..when I saw this "Ponds blackheads remover" advertisement on TV. The ad in itself was so rosy, that I never got around checking for black heads on my personal nose.The ad had this otherwise very pretty girl fretting over her black heads because her boyfriend was coming over in like five minutes and she dint have much time and was obviously looking very bad what with the microscopic dots on her almost microscopic nose and then her trusted friend, noting the emergency, introduces her to the "Ponds blackheads remover" and there you go!!!

Ok just the idea of removing black heads for the boyfriend ..damn..its all so.......
I have never had a boyfriend..will never have probably ..but then if I do, I promise I will always be exceptionally exited about removing my black heads before meeting up with him. So this be my future planning.

So I was talking about how I did not realize that I had black heads, until I got my contact lenses.Thing is, I have a mirror obsession all right, but before the lenses there were glasses, and without either of the two, I am practically blind, well not blind..but then if I am looking at myself in the mirror without glasses , naturally I do not get to see the black heads...ok I will stop talking about blackheads now.

Too much of something is not good.

I kinda hate talking with the Diva..when she's all so quivery-lipped worried about entrance exams and suchlike, but then deep down inside I am anxious too..the anxiety leads on to frustration and depression [all deep inside, mind you]..and I take it out thus:

The Diva: all the maths is depressing me

The Diva: cant handle maths

The Diva: you know everyone in our class is preparing full-on.

Me: so?

Me: everyone in our class has weekly sex.

Me: are you doing anything to improve vocabulary?

Me: do that, and you'll stop feeling bad about the maths.

The Diva: wait, about the weekly sex how do u know?

Me: tell me the names of the people who are preparing.

(The Diva blurts out some names)

Me: yeps, all of them

Me: if not the sex,

Me: then they are making out right?

Me: you don't think they live without sex..do you?

Me: even if they don't go all the way

Me: All of them do a lot of things

The Diva: wait! the convo is lost, are we talking sex or studies?

Yes I know I will do anything to keep people from talking about the things I wouldn't want to hear.
In case you're wondering how I got so bold, [!?]
read this .

Then I was thinking about how I could die just because of this usually-effective-but-damn-painful custom of 200 abdomen crunches every morning.I mean I can walk the treadmill and keep stepping on the stepper and twist along the twister and do all sorts of things..that too early in the morning. But the ab-cruncher situation is the catch-22 in my life right now.
Its been five minutes since I looked up "catch-22", so I kinda like had to use it in this post.

Also, as you can see, I am blogging quite regularly , and I am playing online word games with such dedication and ferocity that I've started day-dreaming about "what are the words ending with si/lo/dr/ri/gl/ta........"

Ok I am falling asleep again.