Confession hour

just a coupla days ago, fluffypig suggested something brilliant yet low-cost: why don't i use a sticker to cover up the scratches instead of wasting money to spray my car? i suspect underneath all the fluffiness, she is actually pretty smart!

bursting with hope and happiness, i went to a car accessories shop after work. gosh, they were stocked with really cool and tasteful stickers, except that none are big enough to cover half of my bumper. the bigger ones came with graphics like skulls, Mugen, Initial D and all sorts of tacky racing themes. immediately i felt deflated... i was thinking more along the lines of Herbie, not Harley.

sigh, so i had no choice but to confess everything when my parents came back yesterday. my dad took one look at the car and said, "Calling it scratches is underrated, looks more like big chunks of scrapped-off paint!" oops... i meant well you see, i just dun want to bother him with petty details while he's having a holiday. apart from that, my dad took it quite well.

my mom, on the other hand, is an entirely different story all together. i'll leave it to ur imagination.

btw, something totally embarassing happened this morning. just as i reached the carpark, my shirt button popped out, leaving a gap right at the position that clearly exposes my bra. i swear my shirt is out to get me. either that, or my boobs have (hopefully) grown one size bigger. so i hugged my bag and ran all the way up to the office. how's that for an early morning jolt?