I feel One Tree Hill-ish. And bored.



Guy: Buy you a drink?
Brooke: Okay, guy in need of a clue. Here's one. Women send signals. That was a brush off. Before you dip into your shallow pool of wit let me paint us a picture and save us both the trouble. Here's your evening. You are going to slink back off to your buddies, laugh this off, get wasted, go home, and make nice with yourself. But don't be thinking of me, because even your fantasy of me, isn't interested in you.



Dan Scott: You're full of crap.
Coach Whitey Durham: It comes with old age, Danny, constipation.



Brooke: Lucas! Do not make me come in there with you! If you stay in there any longer, you're going to use up all the hot water if you haven't already!
[she sticks her hand into the shower]
Brooke: Oh, my God! That's cold water. You're taking a cold shower! Ew. Well, the next time you have a wet dream, tell Peyton I said hi!




Well Scriptwriter-Caterer Chew and I whiled away the afternoon with Pasir Ris Beach Season Three-and-a-half. Was thinking, would be pleased if my character was killed off. Then we could do one of those "life flashes before eyes" gigs. I'd gladly provide the memories.

Like how I couldn't stop disturbing Limei once and learnt a very valuable lesson. That is; never scorn The L-meister (Ha! Pun!) because she Will Fart In Your General Direction.

And how I mock-punched Bitchy Girl Number 1 during the rehersals perfectly and on Night Itself socked her for-real-on-accident. This reminds me, I will have to reprise my role as Sue tomorrow and mock-punch Tzelin, the new Bitchy Girl Number 1. I say mock regrettably.

Oh wow it's getting late. Goeth I to be one with the vegetables, then! (Move over Shakespeare) 7:45 AM