Vickiepedia

I originally wanted to write a long, heartfelt entry on how much he meant to me and the like, but I’m still feeling kind of sore as when I first showed him this layout for the domain, all he noticed was that I chopped half the dark elf’s head off. Just focus on the boobies, dammit. Heh.

But anyway, Happy 19th Birthday, my no-longer-little little brother (also known as “Bro” here at the blog), Jacky!

In unrelated news, I’ve been slacking so much — online, even — I could almost hear this.

But of course The Boss won’t actually say anything like that to me; she’s very nice. </freak show>

We were randomly chatting about our future at the brunch table, when Bro surprised us with a plan I’m not sure whether he wants to share with the world just yet – or at all. Anyhow, Mum made the following comment to me, in regard to what Bro said -ish, afterwards.

“You could become an actress;” Awww. “since you’re so good at faking.“

Hmph… Now I’m flattered and offended at the same time. But, what?! Faking? I don’t remember ever being fake to her! Grumble, grumble.

Mum, Bro and I watched the final episode of 爭分奪秒 (Split Second) together (Dad would have viewed the programme with the three of us if he hadn’t had to go to a gathering).

There was a scene where the guy in the middle pointed a gun point-blank at the head of the guy on his immediate left. The middle guy struggled between whether or not to fire.

“If he shot the guy at this range, his brains would be blown apart and his eyes might pop out.” Mum analysed. “Seriously, his eyes might pop into the shooter’s mouth, too.”

To which we giggled.

“Imagine this scene:” Bro changed into a stern tone. “I’m not going to shoot you because your eyes might pop into my mouth.”

And we all burst into laughter.

We’re a sick family. We are.

I dreamt…

In the beginning, a lot of people (including myself) were in a mansion playing a massive zombie-shooting game. The people got tired of shooting the actual zombies, so they decided to pretend to be the zombies and be shot. A few of us refused to do that so we ran away and hid ourselves.

Our group got separated, but one girl kept following me. She hasn’t got a gun (what?) so she was hanging onto me the whole time. I ran everywhere until we got to a kitchen, there she started to cry for no obvious reasons. Annoyed, I told her to shut up in a not-so-nice manner but the ‘zombies’ already heard us.

As the first zombie walked in the room, I darted out and kicked him in the face (I didn’t use my gun?); then I realised that he was a Hong Kong celebrity. I was shocked and looked at the other zombies that wandered into the room. They were in fact all celebrities.

The dream jumped and I was in the same mansion on my own. I was running through glass doors after glass doors but still couldn’t find a way out. I saw a guard and wanted to ask him what this mansion was all about, but before I got to him, I woke up…

On another note, I’m very jealous of my family members.

My father:
He’s got a new car – a damn cool Mercedes-Benz. Now he gets to drive that shiny silver thing to work every day, while I haven’t even learnt how to drive. I’m 18 already, dammit.

My mother:
She’s invited to watch the Hong Kong vs Real Madrid football match free of charge tomorrow, and she gets to sit practically next to the football managers. Ssh, I’m planning to drug her tomorrow so I could disguise as her and go instead.

Last but not least, Jacky my brother:
His public exam (HKCEE, if that makes any sense to you) results are out, and they’re damn good. He’s secured a place in his own damn famous and popular school to read Hong Kong’s damn hard Physics and so.

As for myself… pathetic.

I have a twin brother. Not really, but he could very well be my twin.

You know how people did experiments on twin telepathy. The twins were separated in soundproof rooms and wired to lie detectors, not knowing what the other was doing. One twin was told to put his hands into near-freezing water; he let out a gasp. At the same time, the other twin’s respiratory rate went up as though he gasped himself.

Now nothing as freaky as that has happened to us. My brother is a year and a half younger than me, and we grew up very much like friends. We’ve never fought physically and have argued only occasionally. We spent a hell lot of time together.

Sometimes we start humming/singing the same song without it being played earlier or talked about. But I’m sure that happens to many people as well.

What about these two?

My brother suddenly decided to clean up his desktop today. He deleted most of the useless shortcut icons that have been there for years – and I mean years. I did the exact thing just one day ago (didn’t tell him, he didn’t check mine).

When I was in England on the phone with him, I started calling “PJ*~ PJ~” and poking it lightly; which was weird because I never really poke cute stuff. My brother asked, “Are you poking it?” (*PJ is my green apple soft toy. ‘Par Junior’, not pyjamas.)

Damn, and to think I believe in science!