Dirty Little Spies

Soul Mate? What's That?

2009-07-27T14:30:00.019+08:00

Who needs to play silly guessing games to find out who your soul mate is (or in my case ‘not’), when it could just be a flip of a card away?

I was never a believer in taking a quick glance into the future of my audacious life, but a few days ago, it was casually offered to me by a friend.

Tarot card readings, there’s just something about it that draws me. Unlike Chinese Mediums and Malay Bomohs who chants and offers sacrificial offerings, Tarot card readings seem a little more elegantly mysterious; no awful hymns by some wrinkly old lady or gruesome sacrifices of innocent animals. All there is really, is a deck of cards, a few crystals and some candles to set the mood if you like. Each card tells a different story. A few days ago, it told mine...

Apparently, I’ve officially hit rock bottom! My life is going sky diving without a parachute, Bungy jumping without a harness and on a roller coaster ride without anything to hang on to. Love life, Career, you name it; it’s in the bad books. Where the bloOody hell did it all go wrong?!?

My attempt to look for Mr. Right has just tripled up its stakes. I was literally swimming in a sea of men last Saturday and I caught absolutely nothing. Can you believe it? NOTHING! Oh, and if you’re wondering where that ‘sea of men’ was, it was at the Hennessy Artistry Event. I must say, that event was SOLID. No Pixie points for guessing, I was smashed.

XoXo,
Agent Pink

Mission 101

2009-07-13T00:25:00.019+08:00

I’m an attractive Asian, towering five foot four, with great complexion and have naturally tinted dark brown hair with perfectly matching dark brown eyes. Yet somehow it seems rather impossible for dear ol’ butt naked cupid to find me my match. I’m not implying that there are absolutely no pursuits exhibiting themselves before me, but the thing is... It really IS rather difficult to find someone ‘normal’.

My definition of normal: Someone who possesses the gift of appreciation, compassion, humour, humility, ambition and finally the gift of style. After all, impression does matter too ya know.

Expectations a little too high you say? I do know of men whom have met the first five criteria but failed at the final one, rather sad really; and I suppose I need not dive deep into explaining the other breed of men, whom excel in style with perfect stature, but fail in every other way possible as a being. (Top that with Agent Blue's dish on Mr. 'D', you've got yourself the worse Karma hit ever!) This despicable breed simply floods the city of KL! (Commonly referred to as: A_ _ H_ _ _)

So I suppose the choices are rather depressing. It’s either picking the ones that rot from within or the ones that rot on the outside.. Hmm.. I wonder if there’s a place where eligible women can go shop for eligible men.

Mission 101: Agent Pink
Assignment: Man Hunting
Target: Eligible Bachelor

I’ll keep you guys posted on the progress of my assignment. Watch out world, Coz I'm on a mission.

Yours Truly,
Agent Pink XoXo'

Facebook couple of the year

2009-07-08T18:12:00.018+08:00

It's wonderfully amusing to know, the reason why two people are together.
Take D & E, Facebook couple of the year, for example:-
D, is a total wanker that thinks of himself as an uber-cool and "happening", walking, talking champion. He is known to hump anything with a hole (which is more or less okay-looking), and has a recurring history of cheating on his then-partner.
I'd say, in aspect of appearance, God was kind to give him a bit in that department.
Then again, God is fair; and hence, D received inadequately, down south. You know how men are usually unable to keep their snake in its cage? Well, if I were D, given his shrimp of a penis, I'd definitely lock it in.

What's worse is that word has been spread that D is a 10-second ejaculator. About 5-8 thrusts later, he rains on your parade. Literally. His piteous sex partner, high and dry, is left with utter disappointment, and most likely, syphilis.
Well, it's pretty obvious, women DO talk; let alone unsatiated women.
We sometimes indulge in some harmless post-coital-experience discussion with our girlfriends. Harmless to us, that is; but detrimental to a man's reputation. Don't give us looks, it's instinct to warn our fellow members of the ya-ya sisterhood, just like how men would give heads-ups to his chums about a particular skank who deep-throats like a veteran porn star, and just when she'd be available.

Not too long ago, D took up Deejay-ing and that pretty much added about two hundred and eighty five delightful brownie points for him in E's little black book of "happening people I'd like to hang out with"
To sum things up, D equals LOSER. And E, well, she ain't far off.

E is an attention-seeking plain jane that flexes more towards the 'not-so-pretty' mark. In fact, personally, I find an uncanny resemblance between her and Smeagol from Lord of the Rings.
If she were a nicer person, I'd most probably spare her the insults; but she is a duplicitous, bitchy wannbe with a tendency to act cute. *vomits*
She hangs around with one of the more infamous sluts in town, who has undergone so much cosmetic surgery that she is now 98% plastic.
E, being the wannabe-happening twat that she is, tries to always be seen in the scene with the plastic whore, albeit her being in the plastic whore's shadow. On many occasions of bumping into her, I noticed that she would wave her hand like how the beauty queens from pageants do it when they are on stage. (What the fuck?) *laughs till dies*

Smeagol waving like Miss universe, what a fucking lovely sight.
So you get the picture.

D & E recently hooked up and apparently are so in love with each other that E feels the need to announce it to the world on Facebook, by posting up ridiculous pictures of stupid things, e.g.: the tissues D uses during meals, his toothpick, their movie tickets, and the whole irritatingly schmaltzy, drippy, i-love-you-you-love-me, stomach-churning works, just to show her entire network of friends just how proud she is to have managed to snag such a 'happening' guy like D. *vomits*
Which makes me wonder, how E puts up with D's shortcomings. Probably the same way how D puts up with her acting cute and irritating character, for some pussy.
The moral of the story is that perhaps to her, he really is perceived as such a fabulously popular guy that the tragic tale of his short dick and the sorry-ass 10-second-sex, have become somewhat insignificant. What matters most, is that everyfuckingbody on Facebook knows that she is the girlfriend of a DJ.

I am not feeling particularly creative right now so I don't really know how to end this entry.

"Isn't that cute an extra belly button, You need to put your pants back on honey."
-Short Dick Man, by Gillette-

Signing off,
Agent Blue

A Formal Introduction

2009-06-18T15:58:00.014+08:00

Hello World!

I’m agent Pink, and welcome to the bizarre terrain of ‘Dirty Little Spies’! So, just before you start judging my grammar and add an extra credit to your language-piggy-bank, it is my pleasure to also introduce my partner in crime, gorgeously named agent Blue.
We’re here to share dirty little secrets and girly gossips with you, so stay tuned...

Agent Pink