Wooh, A1GP baybeh. I had a blast. Seriously, if you call yourself a race car fan but you've never went to Sepang to watch a race then you really should. I'm not exactly a race car fan, I just happened to have a friend who happened to have free tickets. GO TJ! TJ and his dad picked me up at slightly past 9 and then we went to pick Stanley up. They kept on talking about the Arsenal match last night. I was so terribly lost. So, I just stared out the window. Stanley slept in the car on the way there. Reached there. Walked. Walked. Walked. Stanley saw a sign that said HOT HOT HOTDOGS. I said, "Go buy la". Then he said, " I don't want HOT HOT HOTDOGS, I want HOT HOT HOT GIRLS." Reached the stands. Sat down. Too far from the starting/ finish line. Changed place. Someone was smoking. Changed place. Took a few pictures. Ate a packet of Rocky. Smsed Liwen. Smsed mom. Stanley was staring at the grid girls but he didn't bring his glasses so he kept on asking me, " Is that girl hot?". And I'm like, "Gee, I don't know." "Oh, is that girl hot?" "I DON'T KNOW!". Race started. Tried desperately to sms Liwen at the same time but failed. I had to cover my ears. I had ear plugs but I didn't wear them. I can't put things in my ear not even headphones. It messes up my semi- circular canals (Science; Form 2; Chapter 1) and makes me woozy. So, I embraced the sound, the bone crushing, deafening sound. And let me tell you, it was awesome.
First race
No1: Switzerland
No2: France
No3: New Zealand (Go ALL BLACKS!)
Then, we walked around. We had 3 hours to kill before the next race. So, we went to the Lotus and Ferrari exhibition. I wasn't as excited as the guys (that includes TJ's dad) seeing the cars. I mean they were pretty and everything. Okay, maybe not pretty, COOL. But its not really my thing. Like Kay Li said, I'm a OOH NAIL POLISH type of girl. And it was so hot. The stalls frying food, loads of people and also the blistering heat from the sun. Had ice-creams. Then there was an announcement saying that the pit lanes are open for people to go in. TJ was like, "Lets go to the pit lanes" We couldn't seem to figure out how to get to the pit lanes. As we were walking, I saw a sign that said Pit Lane Passes. Guess how much it was? Go on guess. You know you want to. Okay, fine I'll tell you. RM150. Yeah, so scrap that. We went and bought food. Hard fish and round hash browns. Don't ask me how the fish was hard or how hash browns can be round. Because I don't know that either. So we walked someomore. Trying to find a place to sit and watch the race. Who knew that Sepang had so many flights of stairs. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Repeat 10 times. Somehow along the way, we lost TJ's dad. So we stood there like crazy people trying to call his dad despite all the noise. Somehow, we spotted him amongst the crowd and we went to find a place to sit. We still had about an hour and half to kill. We ate our hard fish and spherical hash browns. A packet of Chipster. Stanley slept. Took more pictures. The All Blacks car was at the grid right in front of us. Watched the drivers race around in the Ferrari's holding their flags. One guy got tangled in his flag. The countries within a 3 car radius of Fairuz-what-his-name didn't get any cheers at all. He turned the corner waving with so much enthusiasm but everybody was just laughing and pointing at the Malaysian car. I caught a glimpse at his face. He looked really sad. Then, we laughed at a stupid marching band performance. When the grid girls came out again, Stanley woke up to watch them catwalk to their respective grids. Then, he fell asleep again. TJ's dad says they have a hard job. Standing there for 45 minutes. In nice clothes and a face full of makeup. The thing I hated was that the way those Malay guys (no racism intended) wolf whistled, whooped and cheered when they came out. I found that very disgusting. Pfft, Malaysians, just can't appreciate a pretty girl quietly. At least Stanley didn't whoop. Watched the race. And embraced the sound. Actually, once you get used to the sound, it isn't that bad. Its the loudest when you cover your ears but you suddenly don't. Malaysia started at the fourth grid. After about 2 laps, he emerged from the corner in 3rd place. The stands erupted with cheer and applause. Out of nowhere, he turned into the pit lanes. From 3rd he fell to last. LAST. He sped up until 10th place. Barely anybody stayed for the trophy giving ceremony. So sad. Nobody to clap for them. Left. Nearly fell asleep in the car. Stanley did. TJ did. TJ's dad, thank god- didn't.
And the best one like EVER.
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Woah, *swoons* My god, damn yeng right?
Lets see...
Name : Michael Fred Phelps
Age : 24
Birthdate : 30/6/1985
Birthplace : Baltimore
Height : 6'4" (1.95072m)
Weight : 195 pounds (88.45005 kg)
Hair and Eye Colour : Brown
College : University of Michigan
Passions :Football, music, video games and hanging with his English bulldog, Herman
Family : Fred and Debbie Phelps as well as 2 elder sisters, Hilary and Whitney
Just so you know, he cooks. Like oheymjee. I LOVE guys that can cook.
Things you hate about yourself like always wondering how big your hips look to the rest of the world.Or how you bite your thumbnail when you're excited.
Sometimes, you're amazed at how often and easily you cry.
Or at how much time you fiddle with your hair.
You fall in love so fast that sometimes it angers you.
And how badly you take heartbreak.
Or how stupid you are because you still keep wishing and how he's the first thing you think about in the morning even after he broke your heart.
There are always things that you hate or love or even make you wonder. But the thing I hate most is how dumb I am because I'm such a camwhore that I do a stupid post on my blog just to upload pictures. Gah, I don't even think what this is about. Sure makes you think doesn't it?Here take it, do what you want. I don't want it anymore