Danabelle in Fritzy Shorts

Well... Hello there, blogland!

Did ya miss me?

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I missed you.

My thoughts are all crowded up in my head and are pushing their way out...

...And so if a brainfart happens to come out, I would have to apologize.

...But see, that's just what happens when you don't blog for what seems like forever.

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So, a guy called Ali Abbas kept calling me over the weekend.

...I mean, c'mon, man. GET A CLUE. I hung up on you. And I didn't answer the following 1234567890 calls. In the normal world and even in Stalkerworld that actually means "I have no interest in talking to you."

He says he got my number off of Friendster. ...Which I placed on there for clients.

...Not for horny-ass guys who have no idea that I'm a fabulous photographer, hence the great pictures. I could keep photos of what I really look like on there, but I might scare off potential clients.

Ah, tsk. Conundrum. Catch 22. Bussettt.

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Friday night, I threw a diva fit.

...'Cause we had to leave the club.

...And I so wanted to stay.

Babaw eh no. Parang bata lang.

LOL.

D: *Storms off in a rage.* Bussett na sapatos 'to. *Sabay hubad at lakad sa kalsada ng naka-paa.*
K: Akin na, ako na magdala.

Bwahahaha.

I wanted to laugh... But I was still on full brat mode. LOL.

What do you do with guys like K?

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My kit lens is on the fritz.



It squeaks and creeks when it's autofocusing. I think a visit to Grand Stores Maktoum is in order.

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Sooo...

I can't get this song out of my head:

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Goodbye, May.

I'll see you next year.

Tell June to be a good girl. :)

Kissy kissy.