I have listed most of the items I've made on my selling journal. Go take a peek. Spread the word dear friends! Help me in my pursuit of happiness (to see my true love in Ireland!)

What a good way to spend your angpow money.



rafba.livejournal.com
rafba.livejournal.com
rafba.livejournal.com
rafba.livejournal.com
rafba.livejournal.com


Currently I have listed jewellery only. Once I get back to my sewing machine, you might see some other stuff. Thank you for your support.

Labels: rafhanabanana

The old Malay folk used to say, 'If you sing in the kitchen, you would marry an old lad.'

I tell that to my little sister numerous times. She was confounded because I sing in the kitchen all the time.

So I said, 'Well little sister, I would like to marry Johnny Depp, and he's older than our father.'

People say the words of the older folk don't count these days. They're just making threats for their own convenience, like if we sit on a pillow, warts would grow on our asses, but actually it's just a plot to scare children so their pillows wouldn't smell like sweaty buttocks. But I know deep in my heart, there could be some magic in those words. Maybe I do want to marry an older man.

Labels: marriage, old folk

Ah it is 5.53 pm, and I am exhausted already. The maid (now ex) went home (FINALLY HALLELUJAH!) Ahem, Alhamdulillah. lol. Okay anyway, I had to be a housewife for the day. Right now, I'm in the living room, and laundry that's not suppossed to be there, and my little sister. I haven't been able to have time for myself except for and hour and a half when she's in school. I've got to fetch her, do the dishes and everything. So right now I'm multi-tasking, using the laptop while 'layan-ing' my sister. I'm going to be a housewife for quite sometime. Obviously my mother doesn't experience this often because she doesn't look after us, and when she's home there is always me and my sister, and the maid to do my little sister's bidding.

Okay no time left, I've got to get back to my sister!

I did manage to finish 5 pieces of jewellery today!

Labels: home

I am at this point of time in my life that I do not want to see or speak to anyone. I hate myself, I am fat, I have been isolated long enough and I think the idea of having any social contact is dreadful. I feel horrid. I can't find any of my pencils (or my trusty new blade) and I think I'm on the brink of insanity.

I am beastly. I am ugly.

Goodbye.

Labels: depressing

Rockstar Supernova fucking rocks! I did bother to check their site only recently to see what they've been up to. After Rockstar: Supernova finished airing on StarWorld I was depressed and also disappointed that Ryan was cut (eventhough he wasn't so suited for Supernova, but being cut means we won't be seeing much of him.) Lukas is not that bad, at least he has a more delightful personality than croaky Dilana, and has vocals better than Toby.

http://www.myspace.com/supernova - is fucking awesome man. God, I so fucking love Tommy Lee. I love rockstars. They have skinny legs and wear tight leather pants, sometimes an open jacket so that we can adore the fucking tattooes and pierced nipples.

Ryan Star was in Asia sometime ago. Man, I did so fucking want to go see him. Next time he comes, I better pack my suitcase and get a plane ticket. I just can't wait to save up all my money so I could travel, buy a Nikon D40, go to Vancouver and see Barry Pepper.

I can't wait for Survivor to start at 11. And after that, I'll struggle to get some sleep (I hardly ever sleep instantly because I simply don't know how), wake up tomorrow and watch another episode of Mosque on the Prairie, visit Supernova's site again, this time with a higher bandwidth and flash. After that, accompany my sister to the library and get some sort of social life with the books. I have tomorrow planned out, and I hate it.

I am not going to spend a penny on food (only lettuce and ham and wholemeal bread) and save as much as I can so that by the end of this year, I can finally get a DSLR. (My future as a nude photographer are becoming clear in front of my eyes. LMAO.)

You know what. I think I should try to sew a pair of tight leather pants. They're so going to be hot on a skinny guy.

Labels: money, rockstars

Hmm, did it ever occur to you that I don't eat beef anymore? I find nothing more annoying than my parents bringing home a meafloaf expecting me to consume it. I am so exhausted of telling them that I do not eat beef or even touch it. My father would exclaim and make a huge deal about it. 'Cows were created for you to eat! Blah blah blah!' Yes I know that father. Did it also occur to you that cows could be created so that humans could stroke and cuddle and make teddy cows out of?

It all started when I witnessed the 'killing' of cows, or to put it nicely, 'slaughtering' of cows during the haj festivities. The smell of blood was awful and I saw the poor dying animal lying on the patch of grass still breathing with blood splurting from its throat. And it was funny what my mother said to me earlier on.

*dramatisation*
'Oh tis a glorious day! The cows love tis day. They art wailing and singing, 'KILL meeee... kill meeee! Falalalalalala!!!'

It was vile and cruel. It was cruel and so hypocritical of them to say that the correct way of slaughtering animals was to use a really sharp knife, and it must be swift, to deliver an instant death. What I saw in front of my eyes, was otherwise. I saw goats running with their heads hanging from their neck, and cows lying in a pool of blood sort of muttering its last death wish to the uncaring men.

But hamburgers and cheeseburgers and rotijohns were in the way of me excluding beef and mutton from my diet. I tried hard, and I ate mutton chop and I didn't feel so good about eating an animal I once stroked and fed. And after that, meat tasted so vile and digusting, and I saw a video on the way cows were killed in the slaughter house and stopped eating beef or mutton altogether. Chickens can wait, until I can muster all the discipline to become vegetarian. My father will blow up if he hears that I turned vegetarian. Chickens are a little different. I don't like chickens, they scare me, so it is right that I get back at them by eating them.

I am against inappropriate animal killing, or putting animals in a cage even. I believe that every animal has the right to be free. That speaks for why I don't have any pets at home (though I do intend to keep cats in the future provided they can have all the space in the world to play.) I feel angry knowing and seeing some of my cat-owning relatives putting their cats in a cage.

Well the list of things I want to stop eating goes on and on. I really don't like to eat fish, so I have no problem keeping away; but my biggest fish 'fetish' is a stingray. I love stingrays as they are gentle and beautiful but I also love how they taste. Everytime I get to eat a stingray, I would apologise to the poor thing. Which is a bit funny actually , 'I'm sorry Mr Stingray. I really like you and all, but you taste sooo good. I hope you don't have a family back in the sea. Forgive me for eating you!' I have to stop eating stingrays. I feel so bloody guilty!

I know they electrocute chickens to stun them so they can't move when you cut their necks off. Even when my father saw that on teevee he went, 'damn, that is so cruel.' But we still eat chickens. If I don't eat chicken I can't go to Seoul Garden or KFC, or anything like that. But it's not like I've never considered that before. Geez, I'm NOT that selfish. Maybe one day, one day, I could slam my hands down and say 'enough, now.'

Another option is that chicken is a sometimes food. If there is an occasion worth celebrating, then the ban on eating chickens can be lifted. I'm still so doubt about this. I am not a huge fan of chicken. I hate it when chicken tastes like chicken, not some weird flavour that I fancy.

Can you believe that my parents bought take-out and it was Roti John again, even though I told them the last time that I wasn't going to eat beef. My father is a very influencial, dominating and forceful person. He hates me speaking out, he hates that I am some kind of a feminist, a pessimist, a tree-hugging person. He hates that I don't eat beef. And I fear he might make me eat beef and commit a sin.

In my religion, it is not wrong to think that killing of a certain animal is wrong. God does not put a 'UNGRATEFUL' sticker on your forehead. It's just, when you feel it, make sure you keep to it. Or consuming of THAT certain animal is forbidden on your part. So it's like, for me, eating beef/mutton is like eating pork.

Haha, I love watching Little Mosque on the Prairie, this new Canadian muslim sitcom. It's hilarious, poking fun at people who hate and are afraid of Islam. It's funny when you think of it. 'BOO!' and the Islam-phobes run for their lives. And there is this funny character named 'Barber' who is a bit of a fanatic and knows nothing about other religions. He thinks that Christians drink blood! Like haha wtf. No offense Christian friends. It's just funny knowing that some people of our religion are like that- they know nothing about anything at all and they generalise and stereotype. That's what the sitcom is all about- poking fun at Islam haters or people to think islam is scary, and fanatics. Lol.

Labels: islam, meat

I can't be fucked to get out of this chair. I love the idea of being a nude photographer. Lol. I love tits. Like haha, I'm even proclaiming it in my blog.

Okay, Operation Seth is starting tommorow.

I love Seth. Seth is like, Seth, and I love him, though he is married. SETH! I'm so happy for Matt for winning and marrying Suzy last year, but I wanted Seth to win so badly.

Labels: operation seth

Ah, life is meant to be ultimately depressing.

Cheers to being overweight, disgusting, and sufferring another terrible case of flu. I'm so happy for everyone that life is turning out so great for them, unfolding like it was meant to be. I on the other hand, wish I could sleep through this whole 'growing up' process and school, so I wouldn't have to deal with the shitness of it.

I think I'm better off slacking in front of the teevee with a bottle of poison.

Labels: depressing

This is like the best layout ever. I've been wanting to make a 13 going on 30 layout since it's one of my favourite movies and apparently the ONLY chick flick that I've ever watched. Omg, I love Mark Ruffalo. And I watched it again yesterday before starting to work on it. Oh my, I love it! It's time for me to come to terms with the fact that I really like pink.

I guess I'm a girly girl!

Labels: layout

Forest Faery by ~silenceana on deviantART

haha, i just figured out that there's such a function for deviantart. I'm stoked right now. Okay damn, I drew that. you lazy creatures.


Man, I am so fucking pissed. Excuse me, I think I need to scream.

Hey, I would love to bitch and rant about Valentine's Day and how stupid and an excuse to spend money and yadayadayada, but maybe bleh, I should shut my gob from now till the next vday. Or.. maybe not. I took the liberty of collecting my file from school yesterday, and made some time to travel to Spotlight, to get some supplies. That whole 'engrave couple ring' place was swarmed by people. Man, I see boys running around with bouquet of flowers, and girls with balloons and all those stupid things. Well, you know, at least I saw some people walking around PS alone, and eating at Burger King alone, so at least I knew, I'm not the only one so un-psyched about this whole 'blah blah' thing. Man, flowers wilt and die, I would prefer a plastic one. My dad got a bouquet of roses for me mam on her birthday, and she tied it on the balcony grill to dehydrate to death. Anyway, that's besides the point.

I was in spotlight, and there were couples walking around, like it's some kind of park. DUDE, get a hold of yourself. The place is crowded enough with real busy people looking for craft glue, like hello?

Doesn't get any better than this, does it?

I think today I'm going to read a book and finish on my drawing. A day well spent, I hope.

Labels: love bashing

OH YAY IT'S LIKE VDAY, WHEEEE. Shut up you fucks. I'm going to school today to get my art file and fuck myself with a razor. Vday is so not my day. Look on the brightside, they're playing Pocahontas on Disney tonight, so that's got to be great. I'm hardly pms-ing. I'm just so annoyed and angry and angsty, and I feel the need to stick my finger on the spindle and sleep for years waiting for Prince Philip to kiss me. My sister baked cookies last night and I went OH WOW, OH WHEEE, you actually love your friends? Okay, yeah, whatever. No one is getting anything from me today, so you've got to wait for your birthday. I have no income coming in, so I'm considering slaying dragons during the holidays. And if I die, it's all your fault for making me do it!

Christian Bale is lovely. I just watched Reign of Fire for the millionth time today. Ah, Mr Bale, Mr Bale... *swoons* Oh dear Dark Knight, I can't wait for 2008.

Eh, you know what, I think I'm going to steal some cookies from the cookie jar. Fuck you.

If I ever HAD to celebrate Vday because Prince Philip woke me up, I will poison him for making life so bland.

EDIT: LOL, It's not Vday, It's VENDETTA DAY. Lol, good day.

Labels: love bashing

OH WHEE I HAVE A PLANNER!


Lol, a point was brought up on craftster- ADD knitter, which I thought was hilarious. I am an ADD(look up in the book of disorders, you twit!) knitter. I have a million projects and can't keep to one in just a few hours, and go to another project. I wonder why I never finished the first scarf I ever knitted and why it's still stuck and lonely on my size 4mm needles... I also wonder why I haven't even finished adam's scarf... Hmmm, how peculiar.

Same goes for my drawings. I have nude women in my file and I haven't even completed any of them. Okay, haha, I worked on Barry Pepper today, and so far, it looks better than the drawing I did of Johnny Depp. Ooh Johnny, looks like you've got competition. But eh, I'm reviewing my techniques, following tutorials, trying to make my person more real. Hey you little fucks, check out my deviantart, I've got something new.

I'm going to be blastedly alone tommorow, and no roses will come to weep for my sorrow. I think I'll be at home singing to the tunes of N'sync. OH, the HORROR! Of course, a better option is to go to Barbie.com and renovate Barbie's room. Oh, the most hilarious thing happened the other day- my dad went to bed late one night, and my mother thought he was caught up doing some work on the computer. Then she peeks, and he was like on DISNEY.GO.COM, playing some Princess Disney game or something! LIKE LOLOLOLOLZZZZZ! Haha, whatever. Disney is fun. I like suite life of zack and cody.

Yeah well, I'm bored now. Don't celebrate Valentine's day because it's stupid. Why not celebrate your love every other day? It's so cliche, appreciating each other on that day only. Like what, can't fuck any other day is it? You fucking assholes.

No I'm not having fucking PMS because I have menopaused. Like HAHAGAHAHAAA. I have Barry's name on my thigh, wheeee!

Labels: love bashing

I always tell myself that I was born in the wrong country. What makes me undesirable? I don't know, I guess stupid people who are blind? Adam says I'm cute as fuck, and Jimi would like to kiss me and promised me a first kiss as soon as I save enough to fly to UK, and Faye wants me to be her girlfriend. Everyone on ryl thinks I'm cute as fuck. I don't know why, it seems western people like me more than asian people do. Hell, I have more caucasian friends than asian friends.

Like they're so puzzled why I am always so alone and don't have many friends. Oh yeah- because I am THAT undesirable and disgusting. 'You're smart and interesting, compared to the idiots who live here,' she says. (Which, obviously, with all humility, I don't believe.)

And my house is like a screaming rampage. We scream at each other and I try hard not to kill anyone, Dad goes, 'Don't talk to your mother like that!' (Haha, Everybody Loves Raymond) My mother is some kind of a double genital hater and my dad hates gays (I adore gays), my sister thinks all malay speaking people are mats and minahs, my other sister is caught up in Korean songs, and I seem to be the only one who is so UN-Normal. I speak english, I adore english, I love english, I would love to be able to speak to my parents in english all the time, and I even dream in the in english language.

I think I'm meant to be born somewhere else. Where there is a freedom of speech and I could voice out my opinions, not like now.

"Mum you're so narrow! God gave her 2 genitals, it's not her fault, and how could you say she's a lousy director just because she had a penis once."

"Look how they're talking to me! You don't love me! (Cue for mum to weep and go inside room.)"

Gosh, I think we're a family of debaters, and my parents are the unwilling listeners. They're like, 'you listen to our opinions, and stick to that. ' "We hate gays, so you must too."

I'm so fucking sick and tired of that! Ahhhh FUCK.

Like whatever right? I can even spell F-U-C-K. Bet they didn't even know that.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! -There you go.

Okay, I realise I've gone out of point. I was on the topic on 'undesirable.'

Valentines day is the stupidest 'event' ever. I don't love anyone, so fuck off. I'm going to bash some lovebirds and eat their brains.

Labels: love bashing

Faux Leather Tote.



Read my craft blog. =]


I love Damien Rice. Their music always makes me sad, and makes me draw better. My favourite from album '9' has got to be 'Accidental Babies'. I've been repeating it over and over again since yesterday. I love the sexual innuendos in the lyrics, and how the music makes it sound so innocent and peaceful. I have enjoyed Damien Rice since 'Blower's Daughter' aired on MTV. I've been in love ever since. I do need to buy Damien Rice's album soon. I will never get tired of Damien Rice even after listening to the whole of 'O' over and over again continuosly.

accidental babies

i held you like a lover
happy hands
and your elbow in the appropriate place
and we ignored our others' happy plans
for that delicate look upon your face
our bodies moved and hardened
hurting parts of your garden
with no room for a pardon
in a place where no one knows what we have done

do you come
together ever with him?
is he dark enough
enough to see your light?
do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
do you miss my smell?
is he bold enough to take you on?
do you feel like you belong?
does he drive you wild?
or just mildly free?
what about me?

you held me like a lover
sweaty hands
and my foot in the appropriate place
we used cushions to cover happy glands
and the mild issue of our disgrace
our minds pressed and guarded
while our flesh disregarded
the lack of space for the light-hearted
in the boom that beats our drum

and i know i make you cry
i know sometimes you wanna die
but do you really feel alive without me?
if so be free
if not leave him for me
before one of us has
accidental babies
for we are ...


You know, it would help if you'd at least take a look at my deviantart once in a while. Not that I'm proud of everything I've done over the years, but sigh, I feel so old and used. Left in the dust.

Actually I wrote a really fast piece that was more suited for a song, but you know me, I don't know how to write songs.

Left in the dust
They left me in the dust
Help me I am plunging
Into deep waters

Left in the dust
I sit on a shelf
They left me in the dust
Forgotten and unused

Left in the dust
I’m yellow and rotten
Afraid of the dark room
They left me in the dust

Left in the dust
They left me in the dust

©2007 ~silenceana


Like, whatever right? My style is being used over and over again by me. I'm never inspired to write merrier ones. Let's face it, I haven't been a cheery sport since I was born. I feel like goddamn Phoebe from 'Friends'.


I managed to survive the exams by last minute 'reading up'. Oh like, paper starts at 2, and I pick up a book at 11, or if it starts at 9, I flip through my notes on the train. Okay, it's over anyway. Screw you electronics.

If I could ever get a tattoo - which will be like never, till I slog my way to heaven and ask god if I could get Ami James to tattoo me. Seriously, I love tattoos, since ever. You know, as a kid I saw these guys on teevee with both arms covered with tattooes, I admired them secretly. And rockstars have them pretty much and they looked so beautiful. Ah, like Tommy Lee covered with art- nothing can be more sexy. I prefer tattooes to piercing. Maybe both. Okay well, I like people with piercings all over their face and nipples and everywhere else, like butt crack, whatever. I totally understand why my favourite book character have half of his body tatooed. You know, like half, like his left face and everything, up to where the sun doesn't shine. Ah, my sweet darling Bran.

Oh well, back to what I was saying. If I could ever get a tattoo... it would be a nice BP on my neck. Because you know, BP stands for many things, and don't worry, if I ever get over Barry Pepper, I could use it to represent something else, like British Petroleum, British People, Black Penis (OMG WHAT THE FUCK, DID I JUST SAY THAT?!), Black Panties, Burnt Paper, Bitchy People, you know whatever.

Ah, nah. Not BP. I would love an eye. The jewish eye, or something like that. And wings on my back. That would be spectacular.

Your body is like a canvas. A journal where you document your life. At least, that is how I think, and how I make use of my body. Okay well whatever, it's the holidays!

Last Sunday I made myself a wristlet from a faux leather which cost me 39.90 a metre. and it turned out so pretty. I'll show you someday whenever I get to take a picture.

And lastly, I need to watch Elizabeth I. Cause I missed it when it aired on Hallmark. Bollocks. The trailer gave me chills.


I know, I'm such a wuss, writing about it in my blog instead of my Livejournal because I know you will never come across this here. See, I'm in a tight spot. I've grown out of you. I don't like you as much now, as I see your boisterous and know-it-all personality unfolding. Maybe it is my fault. My perception of a 'friend' is to be nice to me all the time, give all the best that you can for me, be perfect, like a friend should be. I think it's all on television eh? It is so hard to keep a friendship when it's such a strange and new thing to you. I mean, my whole life I have never regarded anyone as a 'friend' until they have proven to me that they wanted me in their life. And most of the time, they don't last as long as I've wanted to. Friendship- I really don't know what it is. Call me a fucking dog, whatever, I did not have time to discover friendship for what it truly is, because most of it ended too early.

Are you my friend, seriously? I keep getting mixed messages. When you asked me to go away was it supposed to mark the end of all this? I think I may have move on too easily. I get over you too easily.

Well, maybe not. Everytime I go online, I see your name and wait. What if your name flashes, what are you going to say to me, are we just going to drift apart and sink, not making any efforts to stay afloat? If we start talking again, I really don't know what to say to you. I really don't. It's like I've been squeezed into a pulp, you know? You know so much about me and we lived in dark days, black holes, and even if you're like eight years older than me, we do understand each other alot. And there is nothing MORE to discover. I have nothing more to give. I have exhausted myself. I can give you good company, but I don't like gossip. And you know with you, if there is no gossip, the silence is deafening.

I really thought it was the end for you. I've thought about it all the time. I didn't want to admit to myself that you could wound me like that because I wanted to be strong. I didn't want to come crawling back to you to apologise because I never did anything wrong. You misunderstood my situation, you acted irrationally. Am I going to wait? Should I just move on, and later perhaps meet you in a distant future and gaze upon the years apart, and find nothing in common anymore?

And then today I read that poem you just wrote for me, describing me as a snow queen and that no one could be me- I was dumbfounded. I thought you would have bitched about my lacking personality and how I never stood up to our friendship. Not this. Not that poem. I thought it was the best piece of poetry that you have ever written yet. And you used the colours from the butterfly I drew, into your poem. It was brilliant. I hate to burst my bubble now. I would really love to type something and press the 'comment' button. But when I get to it, I can't do it.

How can you know and remember so much about me when I can't remember anything about you. I only remember I met you off RYL, and typed like a lunatic. And we stayed on, you watched me mature and turn into a lady for the past 3 years; and we look back, not recognising the old husk, the cacoon empty, and the next thing you know butterflies and moths are everywhere. Only thing I remembered about you was that incident that you were drunk, and it has been stuck in my mind ever since. I didn't want you to get drunk. When you struggled with alcoholism, I stayed on. When you wanted to kill yourself, I stayed on. I told you, 'Look at me. Look at me now. You helped me up all the way here, you can't quit now.' And when it was time I fell apart and wanted to die, all those terrible times, you said, 'It's such a shame, because you could've become someone far greater if you lived.' And your shameless boyfriend, and how I told you so many times to cancel his insurance so he would have to pay if he gets into another accident... Haha, those were funny times. Guess what, we triumphed, we're done with all that, we're here, living each moment and learning the outside world like we've never seen before. It just that it's such a shame we had to drift apart while we were discovering who we are.

Honestly, without you, I felt so great. There wasn't this force weighing me down. We're funny, like that. Never balanced. When I am up, you are down, vice versa. We could not be truly happy with each other. You spoiled my day, I wrecked your happiness, and when you bragged and drone on and on about the day you had, I would feel so bad because my day turned out like shit. And for that moment we weren't talking, I was free. I felt no obligation to go back to you, I didn't have the responsibility as a friend because we're not that 'word' anymore.

And I must be the complete idiot ever to expect you to be visionary. Humans are not like that. Humans cannot be complete angels. We can't live by other's expectations. I think I have learnt a little about friendship through this rocky piece of crap we built for 3 years. You have to be tolerant and understanding. And no matter what, you stick together. Most importantly, you have to accept this person whole-heartedly, her flaws and imperfections, for she will love you unconditionally no matter what. I have to learn that you can't change the distasteful part of yourself, and you have to understand why I run around so much.

I just don't know how to go on about this. I loved that poem, I wish I could share with anyone reading my blog the beauty you have brought to life. You do dislike me because I don't believe in myself and I don't believe in my abilities. You were indeed the best of times and the worst of times. I would love to be your mate again. Maybe someday we'd meet each other on the street and not even know each other, seeing we've grown so different. This funny thing about friendship- I don't think I would really know what it is.

Love,
Ana.


I MISSED PROJECT RUNWAY SEASON 3 REUNION SHOW.
THAT'S LIKE...

FUCKKKKK!

Now what the hell am I going to do. They're never going to replay it. I might have missed something that is so awesome and important and hilarious... I SERIOUSLY NEED TO WATCH ITTTT.

Well, I haven't had much time for myself lately because my little sister has been sick and I've been pleasing her with Barbie that I didn't even study. Today she's ill again and her temperature was up to 40 degrees this morning so I just got some time off to check some stuff out on the net (like Project Runway Season 3.) Anyway, mum is going to sack the maid, so I'm going to be like a full time single mother during the holidays. Which means, I can't go out on weekdays till February ends. I gotta do housework, take my sister to school, watch teevee and get drunk, fetch my sister again and make her food- things that mums(with the exception of my mother.) always do. It's going to be a hell of an experience, I know. Finally I'd know what it's like for mums to 'lose themselves.' Right now I'm feeling the effects of taking care of my sister. It's been quite a challenge to keep my temper down and not scream at her. Ah well, whatever. As long as I get to watch the teevee, it's okay.

Guess what, 2 nights ago I got a missed call from mr sex and cum. I feel bad for blocking him and eluding him from my life. Oh no, actually I'm scared of confrontation. I don't know how to argue with him. I'm too nice.

Haha, bye.