What will happen when a girl got knocked up ?

- She’ll start to bloat. Her weight will increase exponentially in a short period of time, and in matter of months, she will attain the size of Barney the purple dinosaur, or a Bengal tiger, or whichever bigger.

- Her face will start to change. Her nose, along with the rest of her facial features, would swell up till it won’t fit a motorcycle helmet, and would petrify whoever that has the gumption to look at her.

- She will have unstable mood swings due to raging hormones. She would get finicky over small matters and would not hesitate to crash furnitures on anyone’s head if she doesn’t feel appeased about anything they do. At all.

- She loses the sanity to make proper judgement. Like judging whether it is more appropriate to get the husband buy her some beef soup cooked from a homosexual cow, or, dumplings made from the game of an arctic fox.

- Her pair of tits will tumefy into the size that’s big enough to block an entire 34 inch television, or huge enough to choke an adult alligator. Whichever that expresses the situation more articulately.

- Her tastebuds will undergo a major tilt of scale towards the bitter side, and hence, everything she eats will taste like bile. And that’s when the husband would be made responsible for her supply of dehydrated prunes, sour plums and pickles alike … to keep her content and all that.

I’m sure there are a lot more.

Scary isn’t it ? Why can’t we human just lay an egg like chickens do, and let the kid incubate inside … ? That way, the wife doesn’t have to go through such a painful period of disorderly condition, and still get to enjoy sex at the same time.

Would appreciate all help in the form of monetary gifts or practical advices.

There’s something I would like to announce that would change the course of many young inquisitive pretty girls out there …

I initially thought of keeping the news esoteric, but because I am so affined to my blog like that, and couldn’t contain my elation about it, I decided to share the joy to the world.

I would like to announce that, Emily and I had upgraded our love to a brand new level…

We’ve been bestowed with a gift. Of flesh, blood and DNA. Yes, there’s a kid inside Emily’s womb now, feeding on her placenta. (and I’m amazed that my reproductive system actually worked !) Wheeeee !

We only discovered that during Emily’s ail-stricken days a couple weeks ago. The doctor insisted her to take a pregnancy test when her taiyeema (a Cantonese slang for PMS) didn’t flush out on time. And that’s how we found out she’s knocked up.

Well, the child is now only 4 - 5 weeks old (still swimming), and was too tiny to be seen yet. The next checkup is 2 more weeks away, and we’ll only be getting a full glimpse on how he/she’s doing by then. Hope everything’s fine. *fingers crossed*

So there you have it. Me getting a level up. Promoted to CEO. Leaving behind my cocoon of adolescence and start to embrace the dark force mob of paternity. It’s the aurora of the next chapter of my life.

I promise to the world, if I were to be given a healthy baby (boy or girl, doesn’t matter), I will ensure that he/she doesn’t :

- glide around with a pair of heely shoes.
- scamper and yell like a lunatic inside a hospital ward.
- wail like no tomorrow inside a cinema
- pull a girl’s hair/skirt (if he’s a boy)
- pull a boy’s kukucheow (if she’s a girl)
- study in the same university that Panda went.
- bite my neighbour’s annoying daughter too hard

So much to think. So much anticipation. So much questions. So nervous.

Panda wanted to look for my senior, Kermit, at our lab. Instead of knocking, she was like standing outside the lab door, quietly. I don’t know what was she expecting but, somehow, it must be pertaining something supernatural … something like … the locked door would open by itself ? Or perhaps an out-of-body phenomenon that enables her to slide through the door and unlock it from inside …

I didn’t realize that until I went out to meet someone up and saw her stood like a stump right outside the doorstep.

“What are you doing here ?”
“Err…I want look Vincent”
“Well then … what are you waiting for ? the door is already open, right ?”
[she walks in]
[smacks head]

I don’t know how long she has been standing outside the lab but, I’m pretty sure she would have remained dormant for the whole day if nobody actually discovered her. Somebody kill me please.

*****

I was walking with my colleagues at the carpark and was heading towards my car to go for lunch. We were chatting about some girls when suddenly, a car came reversing out from it’s lot, towards our direction. A brief glimpse of the driver revealed a young lady, who was raucously chatting with her female friends inside.

Her car kept going astern towards us, despite her wailing reverse sensor alarm (we could even hear it ourselves). That was when I decided to do what those ladies always do during emergencies - I deliberately let out a blood curdling scream with a shrill falsetto voice - ARRRRRHHHHHHHHHH~~~ ! (loud enough to echo across half the carpark).

It worked. The lady got panicked and pulled an emergency brake. She was last seen in a dumbfucked expression.

Screaming actually works. We’ve misunderstood the female species for centuries.

*****

Overheard from the guys that there weren’t much animals killed during the tsunami disaster… only humans. According to rumours, those animals actually hid themselves during the disaster, and escaped death. They sort of have somekind of premonition that the giant waves were heading their way, and bailed to somewhere safe.

Not sure if it’s true but, if it does, then screw those tsunami warning system ! Just set up more farms and chicken coops along the coastline … and place an assload of cameras to monitor their behavior twenty four seven. If those animals suddenly start somekind of rebellion, prison riot or stirring up a whole fucking load of ruckus, then we know, something bad is gonna happen and that would buy us human enough time to back up our porns/blogs/mp3’s from our PC and flee.

But then, I doubt that the news has any logic in it. If animals have the ability to predict something bad in future, then somebody please explain, why are we seeing dead cats/dogs/rats on the road everyday…

I was standing in front of the hospital dispensary (processing Emily’s discharge)… behind me, were droves of people waiting to collect their medicines.

Was talking to one of the nurse inside, when suddenly, I felt an itch. Well, not just simply any itch, but, sort of, an embarassing one - an itch at the posterior department. It’s not on my arse cheek, else I would have scratched it off without sweat. But it’s right in the deeper region of my buttcrack, almost near the anus. Oooofff…

The urge of shoving my hands in to scratch that spot was almost unbearable, but I’ll have to restrain myself from doing so… as it would be too ludicrous to scratch my buttcrack in front of like …50 people.

I was left with no choice but to finish up whatever I’m doing pronto, and get the hell out to somewhere private to surreptitiously rectify that itch.

So, back to that nurse, was planning to let her (if not, ‘guide’ her) finish up her whatever verbal prescription a.s.a.p, grab the medicine and bail. But the nurse I’m talking to, didn’t just gave verbal prescriptions … but the type who would go the extra mile to impress people by acting proactively benign like that.

Like
“Oh, you’re her husband. That’s very nice of you..bla bla bla” - wasted 10 seconds. Itchy itchy.

“I wonder if she has taken her medicine this morning..hmmm…” [picks up phone and intercom the ward nurse to find out] - wasted a whole goddamn minute. ITCHHHHHHHHHHHYYY.

“You know, I talk to plants when I’m free and sometimes, I even talk to my own bladder and other patients’ clinical waste” - I made this up.

But you get the idea. Everything she did seemed to be so wrong. My itch has escalated to the level where I felt as if my ass has been raided by a thousand mosquitoes or something. I could not register any instructions from the nurse and there were cold sweat trickling down from my temple. All I could ever think was to scratch, scratch and scratch.

She wanted to explain further, but I stopped her by asking
“Well then, is it all stated on the medicine label ? If yes, then that should be fine”.

But then, I underestimated that hag. Whatever her evil plan was, she was sure very obstinate in her course. It was a whole 5 minutes or so before she conclude her tirade of inanity (trust me, everything’s inane when your buttcrack is goddamn itchy like that).

Right after she gave me the medicine, I skedaddled to the nearby restroom. But on the way there, I saw an elevator’s door opening with nobody inside. Since I was suppose to meet up with Emily upstairs and the elevator’s empty, I figured, oh what the heck, I can actually scratch my ass since there’s nobody inside. So, I rushed into the elevator car instead.

As I was frantically pressing the “CLOSE” button (which always fail to work when we wanted an elevator door to close fast), a young couple suddenly caught on to the closing door and boarded the elevator.

My heart went “ARRGGGGHHHH !”… but externally, I was trying to hide my complications. The couple even held the door open and was discussing whether they wanted to wait for another of their members… but later, decided to go ahead up. They got out on the first floor and I was left alone, finally. Nothing could describe my euphoria at that moment… no less for the gratification of scratching a brewing itch inside my butt’s cleft…

I found my nirvana inside an elevator that day.

*that was a mysterious itch. Not an insect bite, not anything. It came, just like that… which I’m pretty sure everyone has encountered before. I think scientists should stop excavating fossils, and use the funding to research about mysterious itch instead…

Emily has been discharged today. Thanks for being a friend. Really appreciated that.