this is going to be one odd post. i have to type it out before i forget everything. given that i have like 30 mins before i leave for hari raya visits again, i'm gonna scramble like hell. it's about a dream i had last night.
i met roger federer (what are the odds in that?) in singapore (again, what?) at a hotel in orchard road. i remember seeing the wisma atria from where i was. when i saw him, i was stunned. like seeing the zookeeper shaving off the lion's mane (metaphorically unimaginative). he took notice of my disbelief and gave me a megawatt smile. i was breathless and quickly ran up to him with my digi cam and a notebook to grab every chance that i have to be up close with a celebrity sportsman. never mind the fact that i worship rafael nadal. the sight of roger is the next best thing that i can ever get to a tennis player. when approached for a picture and autograph, he grabbed me and held me tight, like practically hugged me. i was diminutive next to big roger. he called on the help of his own photographer for our pictures to be taken. i was in cloud nine. delirious and hysteria overwhelmed me.
i woke up the next morning to be greeted with screaming headlines of an alleged affair of roger federer with a local girl.next thing i knew, the pictures we had taken the night before were splashed on the covers of newspapers and tabloids. i was aghast. roger called me (i don't remember giving him my number so, huh???) and apologised for the calling.
next thing i remember, my mom was waking me up to help her in the kitchen (this is after i woke up to reality, not still in my dreams). i think that my sexual deprivation has finally started to show its signs. do i think that i need a guy now? well, maybe. but i think what i need is more of a gigolo. haha. deuce bigalow, do you hear me?
like all of a sudden, i like roger federer now, even though he's still second to my butt-man. i think he's a really nice guy. well, he actually bothered to hop into my dream and cause a little drama didn't he?
fancy me talking erotica on hari raya. shame on nadia.
i met roger federer (what are the odds in that?) in singapore (again, what?) at a hotel in orchard road. i remember seeing the wisma atria from where i was. when i saw him, i was stunned. like seeing the zookeeper shaving off the lion's mane (metaphorically unimaginative). he took notice of my disbelief and gave me a megawatt smile. i was breathless and quickly ran up to him with my digi cam and a notebook to grab every chance that i have to be up close with a celebrity sportsman. never mind the fact that i worship rafael nadal. the sight of roger is the next best thing that i can ever get to a tennis player. when approached for a picture and autograph, he grabbed me and held me tight, like practically hugged me. i was diminutive next to big roger. he called on the help of his own photographer for our pictures to be taken. i was in cloud nine. delirious and hysteria overwhelmed me.
i woke up the next morning to be greeted with screaming headlines of an alleged affair of roger federer with a local girl.next thing i knew, the pictures we had taken the night before were splashed on the covers of newspapers and tabloids. i was aghast. roger called me (i don't remember giving him my number so, huh???) and apologised for the calling.
next thing i remember, my mom was waking me up to help her in the kitchen (this is after i woke up to reality, not still in my dreams). i think that my sexual deprivation has finally started to show its signs. do i think that i need a guy now? well, maybe. but i think what i need is more of a gigolo. haha. deuce bigalow, do you hear me?
like all of a sudden, i like roger federer now, even though he's still second to my butt-man. i think he's a really nice guy. well, he actually bothered to hop into my dream and cause a little drama didn't he?
fancy me talking erotica on hari raya. shame on nadia.
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