just minishorts.

Seeing it is an important day in Blogtopia (yes today I'm official a high-ranking Blogtopia-officer), I remembered that I owe the world a Bedtime Story.

This is going to be one of my signature very-long-posts.

I'll let you guys into a well-kept secret of Fairytale-land:

Remember Cinderella, that lucky sleep-by-the-fireplace babe with the fairy godmother?

She was partially deaf.

No seriously.

She was quite clueless when it came to hearing the right things, and THAT made her falter a lot.

Well, she was PRETTY, I can give you that, a babe, and her deafness also allowed an air of quiet calm around her, and THAT was very very attractive. To men, mostly.

She was the epitome of how you could say, 'Girls should be seen and not heard.'

Yeah. That's Cindy for you. Demure, quiet, and quite clueless about most things.

Now the other secret: her stepmother wasn't really that bad.

Neither were her sisters, kay?

Now come on, you've just got to cut them some slack. First of all, Cindy was the prettier one. Obviously girls get jeles. I can understand that one.

Secondly, she didn't say anything, and yet the men still came near their house just to take a peer at her heavenly, demure yet shrouded in quiet calm beauty.

And thirdly, she had a normal name. The other two. Uh huh. Terrible names. Their parents decided to be 'original' and named them in order of the letters of the alphabet. Uhuh. You know, A for the first born, B for the second and the third and last, C (Cinderella).

So the eldest ugly sister was called Amberilla. In short, stepmother always screamed 'Amby! Amby!'

Second ugly sister was called, of all things, Ballerina. Wow. So clever. And the poor girl, the mother screamed 'Bally! Bally' all the time.

Cinderella was LUCKY. Her name got truncated to a simple 'Cindy'.

Now get the reason why the sisters hated her so much?

But then, you thought her Stepmum was so bad to keep Cindy at home while they frolicked at the Ball?

PUHLEEZE. Aunty Ella had her reasons for the punishment. And very justified reasons too.

It all happened, just four days before the ball.

The entire family was invited to the ball, really. Even Cindy. But four days before the ball, just before the girls were to get their new dresses, Stepmother asked the girls to do some basic chores.

You know. Chores. The kind of things that all girls have to do.

So Cindy's stepmum said to the eldest daughter, Amberilla, 'Amby dear, please mop the floor.'

Amberilla being the obedient darling she was, mopped the floor and got her pretty as pink dress. Sure she was fat, sure she was ugly, but at least, she had a pretty dress to wear to the Ball.

Cindy's stepmum said to the second daugther, Ballerina, 'Bally dear, please wash the toilets.'

And Ballerina, being a light as a fiddle and DAMN good at cleaning toilet bowls, use Jiff and Toilet Duck and polished the sinks and bowls till they shone so brightly, you could see the reflection of your face grinning back at you. Sure she was clumsy, sure she was hideous, but baby, if you do the chores well, you get a nice pretty purple dress to wear to the Ball.

Knowing what a silly girl Cinderella was, her stepmum said in a shrill, loud and clear voice to the girl, 'Cindy dear, please clean up the pantry. Make sure you don't break the jars in there.'

Cindy dear heard it as, 'Please brush the panties. Don't forget the bras.'

She briskly went to her stepmum's cupboards and took out every single piece of sexy lingerie kept in there. And then she used a VERY VERY rough brush and brushed every thing.

EVERY DARN THING.

EVEN THE LACY ONES.

You know, those thingies from Victoria Secrets, and Pour Moi Triumph that go for at least RM200 for just the Bra.

She brushed every single darn thing. With all her strength. She brushed until there was nothing left to be brushed.

Wah lau.

All koyak. Because the deaf girl went and scrub hard-hard on the flimsy materials.

Fuiyoh. HOW CLEVER.

Sigh.

Of course she got grounded. I mean, if someone came along and took every single piece of my underwear and scrubbed all the pretty lace out of them, I'd have a fit!

That's why Cindy had no dress to wear to the Ball. No Ball to attend.

That's why her Stepmum ordered her to go sit by the fireplace and think about what she had done.

Well. Everyone had left for the Ball, leaving poor little Cindy to cry by the fireplace.

'No clothes to wear. No Ball to go to. No prince to see. Sniff sniff…' she sobbed to herself. 'All because I brushed Mummy's lacy panties. Like she asked me too… well… I didn't hear her properly. I didn't. I didn't. It isn't my fault that I'm partially deaf. Not my fault.'

Just then, a sudden BOOM startled the shit out of her. She jumped back in horror, and right in front of the fireplace, was a weird-looking, dunno-man-or-woman person.

Cindy's jaw dropped at the sight of the weird being.

'Ohayo!' cried the creature. Ok. It was androgenous. A damn fugly looking one too, with the voice of a man. For this reason we'll address it as a 'he', yeah? 'Babes… you crying, no?'

The poor deaf girl didn't hear a damn thing. She just stared blankly at the dude.

'I'm here to help you.'
'Huh?'
'HELP YOU!' he shrieked.
'Oh.'
'You want to go to the ball?'
'No I don't want to play ball. I want to go to the ball. '
'OKAY! YOU WANT TO GO TO THE BALL!'

She nodded vigorously, oh the poor deaf girl.

'I CAN HELP YOU!'
'You can't help me?'
'I CAN… I WILL HELP YOU!'
'Oh you will help me?'

She smiled now. But then, she wonder how could a rubbish-bag wearing thingie that poofed out of the fireplace be able to help her, so she ask, 'How are you going to help me?'

'Oh. EASY! I am your fairy godmother!'
'Huh?'
'I am your fairy godmother!'
'My fucky godmother?'
'No no no … your very own FAIRY GODMOTHER.'
'My motherfucking mother? Huh? My mother's dead and she never did fuck any mothers.'

Oh dear. Communication breakdown. Our resident Fairy Godmother blew up, 'Oi. NOT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING GODMOTHER LAH IDIOT, YOU FAIRY GODMOTHER! FAIRY GODMOTHER! F-A-I-R-Y GODMOTHER!'

Then only the poor deaf girl faham.

Die. Wanna do magic trick also susah. But our resident Fairy Godmother was still nice enough to conjure up the nicest essentials for the babe to take to the Ball. He jumped up, he jumped down, he jumped everywhere and all about, and said a million trillion aweful sounding spells just to make all the fun things appear.

He turned the kitchen mice into horses.

He turned a huge-ass watermelon pumpkin into a carriage.

Damn lucky, the girl, I tell you.

He made a damn-kau beeeyootiifuulll dress, with frills, can-cans and complete with inner lacy panties and half-cup bra, and she looked EXACTLY like the pretty demure quiet little princess that she was soon to become.

And he made her a pair of pretty high-helled sandals, made out of the lightest see-through fibre glass in the world. (It was fibre glass, glass would have just broken into a million pieces.)

'Thank you! Thank you so much! Thank you thank you thank you!' she cried, over and over again, twirling round and round in her pretty blue dress. As she climbed up the carriage to make her way to the Ball, she turned around and blew a flying kiss to the Fairy Godmother.

'YOU BE CAREFUL NOW,' cried the Fairy Godmother in the loudest voice that he could muster. 'YOU GET BACK BEFORE TWELVE MIDNIGHT TONIGHT. YOU GET BACK BEFORE TWELVE MIDNIGHT! OTHERWISE BAD BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN!'

At least she heard that.

And when the Fairy Godmother saw the carriage speed away in the night, he sank down into the sofa, next to the fireplace, and poured himself a thick shot of Jim Beam, not caring for the horrid scratch in his voicebox from all the shouting.

'Darn that chick. Stupid girl should get some hearing aids… gah…' he sighed loudly and drowning himself in a well-deserved whiskey binge for all the pains that he had to go through, just to make little Cindy's dreams come true.

Obviously there's more to this story. Cindy got to the ball, and she was stunned by the beauty of the place. But bless the girl and her lack of hearing sense, she didn't really have a good time.

She did, however, wore a look of immense blurness at the place, and she looked a jewel in the palace.

What happened?

We'll find out in part two.

About the featured blogger: The Fairy Godmother is bigfuck, from across the causeway. Now blogging from the US of A, bigfuck isn't always as obnoxious or obscene as his namesake. But he is brutally honest, and always an entertaining read, and because of that, he deserves the starring role in this story. (Also because I wanna be featured as Blog Babe of the Month wahhaha.)

OK this is the official post for Monday June 20, 2005.

It's going to be a no-brainer plug of my favourite bloggers / friends online. So ready your mouse and get ready to get clicking (all links open in the same window, so you might want to right-click and do a open in tab or open in new window BLABLA).

First, I wanna introduce you to the group of friends who keep my working hours entertaining. We don't have phones in the office where I work, and it's always nice to get a message or two from Elaine-babes (the regular). Danny sometimes pops by to yak about blogs with me and I'm still begging him to make me a new template for the blog (wishful thinking), but he's got great artistic sense and THAT'S WHY I'm sucking up to him (OK, now I've plugged you, free blog template please!).

Kenny's nice to talk to online too, we bitch about other femes bloggers and talk about how much better he and I are compared to the rest of them. But then again, he's already femes so we'll move on to the friends who blog as well.

April's a daily, she's been a regular in my life ever since a long-time ago lunch after a youth function at Sunway Lagoon. She's also the only friend I have who blogs who knows all my boyfriends (ex-es and the current) and when we go to ABC Mamak (that's over in Happy Garden, KL and we go there quite often), we, same thing, bitch about the people in our life.

Nick's my pet-brother, I called him Kor, and he calls me Mui and Eric finds that completely ANNOYING. Nick's important in my life because he's how I met Eric. Eric's my boyfriend, btw, and he doesn't blog. This morning, though, he messaged me with a 'Mental Masturbation?!' that made me burst out in rolling-on-the-floor laughter.

I sometimes chat with Jason too, if he's online. He's a friend from Varsity, the kind that you hang out a lot for council purposes. I am an alumni of the international student organization AIESEC, and because of that I'm also affiliated to bloggers like Uncle Belacan and Eyeris (a big thank you to you). Jason's a new blogger on the block, so people, if you haven't read him before, time to go. Lots of pictures there and he's also agreed to be the official photographer for my wedding (if I ever get married, that is).

My favourite bloggers ah? OK, now if I don't mention you guys, don't get jeles ah… but I think this is the ultimatum. This is MY BLOG, and they are my favourites. You don't like ah? Go visit Petaling Street and pick your own favourites.

I like reading Suanie. But she's femes adi. So move on.

I also like reading Peter, but he's also femes adi, now move on.

All righty. I like Caleb, from across the causeway, and he's also damn femes in Singapore, so on to the next person.

I like to chat with Huai Bin sometimes too, and his blog is shocking. The real person sounds quite drowsy on the phone, and he can ramble on and on sometimes, which suits my liking very much. That's because I'm also the ramble-on-and-on type.

Edrei's a melancholic blogger, and he's about to start his very own for-charity blogathon. Ini mesti visit. I like the colours on his blog, very blue and streamlined, but hell, too many plug-ins lah. Can't blame him, though. He's a Wordpress Plug-in-olic.

BTW, did you know that Dina Zaman is blogging again? Well, NOT exactly blogging, but there's this site called sajakkini and she's got a column there. If you missed The Gongkapas Times, yeah, you can surf over to sajakkini and read Dina's articles (as well as a whole lot of other writers).

On weekends I yak with Michael Ooi, he also dem femes, but its damn fun to crap with the dude, cos, you know, we get to cuss all we like and be the elitists we're so blatantly are. I'm sorry but I'm not a very tolerant person. Which ends up in me poking fun at lousy blogs that appear once in a while in my blog in a sarcastic manner. And I'm not sorry for that. I've got my own labels for the muck. Leeches and trolls. But I also think that people will change, and change is encouraged. HIGHLY so.

I also voted Viewtru for the PPS Blog of the Year. Why? Not only is his blog funny, not only is his blog intelligent, not only is he the perpetrator of the 5Star Dear Laima column that has been circulated on the Internet since 2004, he is also, Mark! He's the real Mark. He's Rapunzel's Mark! (If you don't know Rapunzel yet, I urge you to explore my bedtime stories. They're supposed to be my main selling point-woh.)

Besides Viewtru, I also like Vincent. First of all he's called me the queen. Because I'm kind and all-forgiving and I have mystical powers, hahaha, I really love my worshippers. He's a very honest blogger, though, and he's got a really ugly site. He also looks like a beruk.

OK lah, I think this post has got FAR too long. But please, if you're reading this, keep clicking. Visit my friends. You'll love them too!

Add on: BTW, please also click on the people who have commented here, if they have left a link. THEIR BLOGS RAWK TOO!

And the results are in… you guys are SICK SICK SICK! Perverts! We've ended up with a pondan elephant handler on an elephant behind a puffy nipple that's stuck next to an iPod listening pony (of all things!) that's got it's stick stuck in a hole with the black grass growing all next to it.

If I were damn good at photoshop I'd try to conjure up a picture of that … whatever you call it… but GAH… it just looks far too obscene in my mind adi…

And in this hole there was a dickstick
The prettiest stick that you ever did see
Well the dickstick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And to this stick there was a pony
The prettiest pony that you ever did see
Well the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And on this pony there was an iPod
The most beat-up iPod that you ever bought,
Well the iPod to the pony
And the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And near the iPod there was a nipple,
The pointiest nipple you ever did suck on,
Well the nipple near the iPod,
And the iPod to the pony
And the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And around the nipple, there was a puffy aureola,
Made it the puffiest nipple that you ever did see
And the aureola round the nipple,
And the nipple near the iPod
And the iPod on the pony
And the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And behind the aureola there was an elephant,
The fattest elephant that you ever did see
Well the elephant behind the aureola,
And the aureola round the nipple,
And the nipple near the iPod
And the iPod on the pony
And the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

***

And on the elephant was a pondan elephant-handler,
The prettiest and hunkiest you ever did see.
Well the pondan on the elephant,
And the elephant behind the aureola,
And the aureola round the nipple,
And the nipple near the iPod
And the iPod on the pony
And the pony to the stick
And the stick in the hole
And the hole in the ground
And the black grass grew all around and around
And the BLACK GRASS grew all around…

This song is brought to you by Elaine, Tiger, Eyeris, Suanie, Dabido and Yee Wei.

Anyway, the game goes on if you like(until I've got the time to slot in the next post). You can add your stanzas in the comments. And the RULE stays: you add your version based on what the previous commentor said.

Back to work. It's Monday.