Okay - its been a miiiiiiiiiiiighty long time since I have done one of these - And there has been far too much that has happened. Each major life changing event deserves a post of its own - so I shan't go into anything here - other than what I actually want to talk about.
Weddings.
Those of you who know me will know that I am a cynic to the core. Recently reminded that my mantra of choice was 'I am going to die alone with my face eating cat', I had to take a step back and examine my behaviour at the last wedding I attended this Saturday past. Even more concerning then sitting on a hedge thinking it was a ledge and somersaulting backward causing me to lose my keys and already badly cracked iPhone (hey - this is what Lady Gaga meant in Just Dance!) as well as making a rather obvious pass at an obviously straight man, horror upon horror, I cried! Genuinely cried! Me. Stone Cold and Heartless Me.
In any event - its been a year of weddings for me. Having attended at least 8, and losing all but one of my friends to a set of vows, its also been a year of complete freedom for me - I have come clean with everyone. Somehow thinking this would be the first push of a set of dominoes that would eventually leave me happy and wed - sadly not much has changed. So i was rather amazed that I was able to actually indulge in such tangible emotions - but I have figured it out!
This post is not my usual sob story of how sad and depressing life is for me - how I will probably never be able to find what I am looking for - how I feel that nothing has ever worked out properly (eeeek - I am doing it already! STOP!). This post is a small story about how happy I am for my friend.
This being the only shindig that I actually wanted to be at (and baked for - yes people - get excited!) it showed me the real point behind it all. Its about two people - being grown up enough to actually make a loyal and devoted commitmment to each other. Its not some soppy declaration of mushy feelings - but rather two people commiting to building a life together. In a world full of chaos and invariable transience - two people who couldnt be a better fit were able to affirm their decision to be bound together forever - this is the key thing I was able to take from this day.
So this is just my little way of wishing my good friend Nachos Sensei and her husband a lifetime of lifetimes of happiness.
See - and you thought I was a cynic!
Wednesday 17 November 2010
Friday 18 June 2010
High Tea and Scones
Good god its been a while - there are quite a few posts that I have meant to blog about but been lazy with - so Im going to shoot them out one after the other until I feel up to date.
I last wrote about the festivities around my birthday. Being me, it had to be a month long string of celebrations, and what better way to spend an afternoon than being treated to high tea at the Westcliffe by the Cool Sister.
I felt like I was nowhere near Joburg when the transfer vehicle picked us up at reception and drove up a 90 degree incline into a deep forest. Having what I can only describe as guilty pleasures in forests in my past, I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a waitron with an apron as crisp as a Crinkle Cut and as white as a Ku Klux Klan member. He kindly pointed out that it was a 'self serve all you can eat tea buffet' and we could order refreshments at our table. Completely oblivious to the words being said past the point of 'all you can eat' I circled the buffet.
What stood there was the most opulent and decadent display of pastries and cakes I had ever seen. The cool sis and I once had tea at the Ritz, but did somehow manage to keep some degree of composure due to the snooty waiter decanting one macaroon at a time into our dainty saucers. This time however, it was all free game. Now I must point out that I am not one for sweet treats. Give me a loaf of bread and a pot of pasta anyday. But being of Asian descent, I felt the uncontrollable urge to stuff custard confectionaries in any and every conceivable crevice take over.
Ten minutes,5 quiches, 8 cucumber sandwiches, 2 slices of carrot and chocolate cake, 1 scone and 3 pots of tea later, and I was man down. The Cool sister was even worse, complaining that she could feel an absyss under her arm beating as a result of all the sugar.
Another 20 minutes later and I was convinced the spots I was seeing was the precursor to a diabetic coma. I still however made a b-line to the cheese board. 30 minutes later and I was escorted off the premises, but I took solace in the fact taht I had the entire danish isle of Woolworths sandton down my skants.
I last wrote about the festivities around my birthday. Being me, it had to be a month long string of celebrations, and what better way to spend an afternoon than being treated to high tea at the Westcliffe by the Cool Sister.
I felt like I was nowhere near Joburg when the transfer vehicle picked us up at reception and drove up a 90 degree incline into a deep forest. Having what I can only describe as guilty pleasures in forests in my past, I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a waitron with an apron as crisp as a Crinkle Cut and as white as a Ku Klux Klan member. He kindly pointed out that it was a 'self serve all you can eat tea buffet' and we could order refreshments at our table. Completely oblivious to the words being said past the point of 'all you can eat' I circled the buffet.
What stood there was the most opulent and decadent display of pastries and cakes I had ever seen. The cool sis and I once had tea at the Ritz, but did somehow manage to keep some degree of composure due to the snooty waiter decanting one macaroon at a time into our dainty saucers. This time however, it was all free game. Now I must point out that I am not one for sweet treats. Give me a loaf of bread and a pot of pasta anyday. But being of Asian descent, I felt the uncontrollable urge to stuff custard confectionaries in any and every conceivable crevice take over.
Ten minutes,5 quiches, 8 cucumber sandwiches, 2 slices of carrot and chocolate cake, 1 scone and 3 pots of tea later, and I was man down. The Cool sister was even worse, complaining that she could feel an absyss under her arm beating as a result of all the sugar.
Another 20 minutes later and I was convinced the spots I was seeing was the precursor to a diabetic coma. I still however made a b-line to the cheese board. 30 minutes later and I was escorted off the premises, but I took solace in the fact taht I had the entire danish isle of Woolworths sandton down my skants.
Friday 16 April 2010
BIrthdays Anniversaries and Pancakes
Okay - going to summarise the last few days in a blog post cos there were some eventful happenings that I wish to share with you lovely people.
Firstly it was the Married Ones 7 year anniversary. 7 years since they first got together. The Man Married One was hard at work so I went over to keep the Lady Married One company. We moaned abit about work - and then the Man Married One came home and told me what he told his wife earlier in the day.
It went something like this - 'I dont want to put a time frame on how long we have been together. We are soulmates and were destined to be together for an eternity. The energy that we share will transcend this life - and putting a time on how long we have been together dilutes the power and meaning of our love.'
Cute hey! I almost cried. I think its so sweet when someone expresses their feelings in a profound and pure way. I of course started thinking how much I want someone to feel that way about me. Anyhoo - we all went to a friends birthday that night - and two nights later (as in last night) it was mines!
I had an awesome day away from work - and was surrounded by really cool wonderful people. Several bottles were present. Including one that was on fire. The hangover has set in - but I shall recover for tea at the Westcliffe! I am currently stuffing my face with pancakes to feel better.
Needless to say another year older - a teeensy bit wiser. A new country. A new car. A new start. With no old loves. I really hope this is the year that things change for me. That I have the courage to come clean with my parents (a little side note - the progress I have made with everyone else in my life is something I am proud of). But still. I have been putting off telling them for months now.
Ive always been told how I have changed peoples lives. Im not trying to sound like an arrogant ass here - but countless people have told me that I have come in to their lives and altered their worlds. They think I am awesome. They really do. And this year I want to believe it too. And maybe, just maybe, someone will think that I am awesome enough to be with forever.
Firstly it was the Married Ones 7 year anniversary. 7 years since they first got together. The Man Married One was hard at work so I went over to keep the Lady Married One company. We moaned abit about work - and then the Man Married One came home and told me what he told his wife earlier in the day.
It went something like this - 'I dont want to put a time frame on how long we have been together. We are soulmates and were destined to be together for an eternity. The energy that we share will transcend this life - and putting a time on how long we have been together dilutes the power and meaning of our love.'
Cute hey! I almost cried. I think its so sweet when someone expresses their feelings in a profound and pure way. I of course started thinking how much I want someone to feel that way about me. Anyhoo - we all went to a friends birthday that night - and two nights later (as in last night) it was mines!
I had an awesome day away from work - and was surrounded by really cool wonderful people. Several bottles were present. Including one that was on fire. The hangover has set in - but I shall recover for tea at the Westcliffe! I am currently stuffing my face with pancakes to feel better.
Needless to say another year older - a teeensy bit wiser. A new country. A new car. A new start. With no old loves. I really hope this is the year that things change for me. That I have the courage to come clean with my parents (a little side note - the progress I have made with everyone else in my life is something I am proud of). But still. I have been putting off telling them for months now.
Ive always been told how I have changed peoples lives. Im not trying to sound like an arrogant ass here - but countless people have told me that I have come in to their lives and altered their worlds. They think I am awesome. They really do. And this year I want to believe it too. And maybe, just maybe, someone will think that I am awesome enough to be with forever.
Monday 12 April 2010
Jaded in Johannesburg
So a partner in crime was down from London this weekend past, which led to eleven too many tequila shots. Being blotto on the dancefloor led to some of the most interesting shapes being cut, but it was all fun.
Needless to say Saturday called for a greasy breakfast. Feeling adventurous, a group of us decided to try out Tashas in Morningside. Unlike Mickey D's where we usually start our day (and loving it) we were asked to get a number and wait in line. Being a party of 5, we had plenty to talk about so none of us really minded, hangovers included. Fifteen minutes into it though, the grumpiness from the heat and hunger resulted in some of us getting slightly tempremental. At the moment when I had plucked up enough courage to spew a myriad of filthy expletives at the manager, we were escorted to a rather primely positioned table. Of course we dont have mountains or breezy coastal views in JHB, so lucious locations are restricted to a corner table with both sunlight and shade, and overlooking the parking lot.
Happy that my order of huevos rancheros was in, I scoped the room and was shocked at what I saw. A collection of Sandtons most beautiful men, seductively sipping on skinny cappucinos to keep up with their skinny bitch image (let me just clarify here - a skinny bitch is a confused bitch - its a disease - yes - this coming from the person who refuses to add any salt or sugar to food - sad - i know)....
Anyhoo. There was one guy in particular who I could not take my eyes off. It was like he belonged in a photo shoot and I half expected his crew to leap out from behind the fake plants and touch up his hair. He was single, and clearly gay, but at a table of equally beautiful man. It was the Edward Cullen Canteen table. Feeling incredibly hungover and schloompfy I could only manage oogling him from behind my obnoxiously gigantic Prada.
Completely ignoring my group and sporadically interjecting with a 'Ja, Uhm Hmm. What back door delivery?' I was fascinated by something else. The cars. Aston Martins, Ferraris, Porsches. It was like the set of Top Gear. What really bugged me about the whole day though, was that these people were complete show offs! It was all about their flashy designer gear and even flashier auto mobiles. I knew this was the case when the Lexus started driving parallel to the restaurant and almost ran my chair over. I mean - seriously. How Jaded are these people?! Its so easy to get caught up in this shallow meaningless existance that this city seems to promote. I know some of you are thinking I too have fallen prey by buying the most ridiculous eyewear - not to mention Cooper Cullen, but its entirely different. CC was always my dream. No matter what fashion trends came and went, anyone who has ever known me has known that I have always wanted a mini - and I made that dream a reality for me - no one else - and certainly not so that I could do more laps around the parking lot then Schumacher does in a grand Prix. And the sunnies - again something I do totally for my benefit - noone elses.
I know you are probably thinking these people are entitled to show off their wealth - and sure they are - but dont drive over my chair when I am sipping my skinny cappucino to do so!
Needless to say Saturday called for a greasy breakfast. Feeling adventurous, a group of us decided to try out Tashas in Morningside. Unlike Mickey D's where we usually start our day (and loving it) we were asked to get a number and wait in line. Being a party of 5, we had plenty to talk about so none of us really minded, hangovers included. Fifteen minutes into it though, the grumpiness from the heat and hunger resulted in some of us getting slightly tempremental. At the moment when I had plucked up enough courage to spew a myriad of filthy expletives at the manager, we were escorted to a rather primely positioned table. Of course we dont have mountains or breezy coastal views in JHB, so lucious locations are restricted to a corner table with both sunlight and shade, and overlooking the parking lot.
Happy that my order of huevos rancheros was in, I scoped the room and was shocked at what I saw. A collection of Sandtons most beautiful men, seductively sipping on skinny cappucinos to keep up with their skinny bitch image (let me just clarify here - a skinny bitch is a confused bitch - its a disease - yes - this coming from the person who refuses to add any salt or sugar to food - sad - i know)....
Anyhoo. There was one guy in particular who I could not take my eyes off. It was like he belonged in a photo shoot and I half expected his crew to leap out from behind the fake plants and touch up his hair. He was single, and clearly gay, but at a table of equally beautiful man. It was the Edward Cullen Canteen table. Feeling incredibly hungover and schloompfy I could only manage oogling him from behind my obnoxiously gigantic Prada.
Completely ignoring my group and sporadically interjecting with a 'Ja, Uhm Hmm. What back door delivery?' I was fascinated by something else. The cars. Aston Martins, Ferraris, Porsches. It was like the set of Top Gear. What really bugged me about the whole day though, was that these people were complete show offs! It was all about their flashy designer gear and even flashier auto mobiles. I knew this was the case when the Lexus started driving parallel to the restaurant and almost ran my chair over. I mean - seriously. How Jaded are these people?! Its so easy to get caught up in this shallow meaningless existance that this city seems to promote. I know some of you are thinking I too have fallen prey by buying the most ridiculous eyewear - not to mention Cooper Cullen, but its entirely different. CC was always my dream. No matter what fashion trends came and went, anyone who has ever known me has known that I have always wanted a mini - and I made that dream a reality for me - no one else - and certainly not so that I could do more laps around the parking lot then Schumacher does in a grand Prix. And the sunnies - again something I do totally for my benefit - noone elses.
I know you are probably thinking these people are entitled to show off their wealth - and sure they are - but dont drive over my chair when I am sipping my skinny cappucino to do so!
Wednesday 7 April 2010
21sts were meant only for 21 year olds.
After the dreaded wedding was done and dusted, I naturally assumed the forced family festivities would be too. How wrong I was. My dancing shoes barely had time to breathe before I had to pop myself back into something appropriate and by extension uncomfortable, and head to a 21st.
Now most people would assume that a 21st would be a fun way to spend an evening. These people have not been to a 21st hosted by the guest of honours obnoxious indian grandmother. Firstly it was due to start at 11am. Yes thats right, 11am. Having already decided that any time after breakfast is a socially acceptable hour to begin a days debauchery, I wolfed down my cornflakes. After lining my stomach for what I assumed would be an endless parade of canopes and cocktails, I headed to what can only be decribed as an abandoned whore house to where the party was scheduled to be held.
Upon entering I knew that I was in for a long afternoon. Instead of thin young fabulous people I was stared down by a bunch of old sari wearing aunties, and their unequivocally bored hubbies. After scoping out the open bar (that was completely desserted as everyone was too self concious to have a drink in front of their elders), I slowly started towards it, tumbleweeds blowing behind me. I could have sworn I heard someone gasp when I politely mouthed 'g-i-n-a-n-d-t-o-n-i-c' to the confused barman.
I was ushered by the 21ster to the '21 table' where 8 of her friends were, as I was not quite young enough to sit with the 6 year olds and not quite old enough for the 60 year olds. I sat at the table catching snippets of the most meaningless converstaional debate I have ever heard in my life. Words like Justin Bieber','hot','cute','slore','matinee' and 'jersey shore' were thrown around. Feeling like the dirty old pervert who sits at the back of the bar talking to himself, I found myself positioned next to a real fashionista. Dressed top to toe in the latest designer gear, she eyed me out cautiously.
RF : Uhm....Hi. Im Real Fashionista.
Me: Im Closer to 30 than I am to 20.
RF: Are you ok? You seem to be shaking.
Me: Its a side effect of old age. Dont you want to get me another drink.
RF: Uhm can i have a sip?
ME: Hell no. I will smack you right here if I ever see you drinking. OH GOD - Ive turned into my mother!
RF: Uhm....Im going to go over there.
Having successfully cleared the table, I secretly sank my final drink and stumbled out of the dark room into the light, and amazingly enough, it reminded me of being 21.
Now most people would assume that a 21st would be a fun way to spend an evening. These people have not been to a 21st hosted by the guest of honours obnoxious indian grandmother. Firstly it was due to start at 11am. Yes thats right, 11am. Having already decided that any time after breakfast is a socially acceptable hour to begin a days debauchery, I wolfed down my cornflakes. After lining my stomach for what I assumed would be an endless parade of canopes and cocktails, I headed to what can only be decribed as an abandoned whore house to where the party was scheduled to be held.
Upon entering I knew that I was in for a long afternoon. Instead of thin young fabulous people I was stared down by a bunch of old sari wearing aunties, and their unequivocally bored hubbies. After scoping out the open bar (that was completely desserted as everyone was too self concious to have a drink in front of their elders), I slowly started towards it, tumbleweeds blowing behind me. I could have sworn I heard someone gasp when I politely mouthed 'g-i-n-a-n-d-t-o-n-i-c' to the confused barman.
I was ushered by the 21ster to the '21 table' where 8 of her friends were, as I was not quite young enough to sit with the 6 year olds and not quite old enough for the 60 year olds. I sat at the table catching snippets of the most meaningless converstaional debate I have ever heard in my life. Words like Justin Bieber','hot','cute','slore','matinee' and 'jersey shore' were thrown around. Feeling like the dirty old pervert who sits at the back of the bar talking to himself, I found myself positioned next to a real fashionista. Dressed top to toe in the latest designer gear, she eyed me out cautiously.
RF : Uhm....Hi. Im Real Fashionista.
Me: Im Closer to 30 than I am to 20.
RF: Are you ok? You seem to be shaking.
Me: Its a side effect of old age. Dont you want to get me another drink.
RF: Uhm can i have a sip?
ME: Hell no. I will smack you right here if I ever see you drinking. OH GOD - Ive turned into my mother!
RF: Uhm....Im going to go over there.
Having successfully cleared the table, I secretly sank my final drink and stumbled out of the dark room into the light, and amazingly enough, it reminded me of being 21.
Tuesday 30 March 2010
Wedding Blues
Hi. Its been a while. But I have been busier then Ricky Martins public relations officer. Plus Cooper Cullen keeps me busy.
Anyhoo, I am in hot, humid and sometimes horrifying Durbs. I came down for a wedding. My cousin's wedding. My cousin who is the same age as me who I grew up with and who managed to bag herself a good rich man and settle down.
You would think that most of the family would be pre occupied with her good fortune....but alas.....I was faced with the Durban equivalent of a Spanish inquisition at which I had to defend my case of why I am still unmarried - and synonomous with that sentiment - unworthy of being alive. Fearing that I was about to be chained and burnt at the stake for commiting the ultimate sin (being single at age 25) I quickly chirped that I was happy to be single and was not concerned with any small town notions of getting bunked up with some misfit just for the sake of it. The fact that in my mind the misfit in question would have to be capable of growing facial hair is something I kept to myself. I was annoyed yes, but not to the point where I was ready to kill half my family by coming out at such a public affair!
Anyway. The wedding was beautiful. My cousin made a heart wrenching speech in which she spoke about her late dad (my moms brother) and I started thinking about how different our lives would have been if things didnt happen that way. I also selfishly though about how our relationship would have remained as tight as it was. The fact that we grew apart is just as much my responsibility as anyones. We were kids and we had some really good memories but I do regret us growing apart. All of the emotions involved made me incredibly sad. Dont get me wrong - I am extremely happy for her. She has married the boy of her dreams (literally - I remember her confessing her undying love of him to me when we were 6). So she really is a living example of fairy tales and dreams and hopes and all things magical and innocent coming true.
But it made me sad for me. It was such a wild, vivid, colourful, loud and festive celebration. Indian weddings are just like the movies. Dramatic, bold and intense. The celebrations last for days - and the fact that so many people are present make it a complete sensory overload.
I will never have that. Never. No matter how acceptable it becomes, no matter how progressive this world gets, no matter what my families reaction is I will never have that. Its not just about being gay. Its also about what you invariably have to give up in the process. I hate it sometimes. Really hate it. I hate being the funny gay friend that can be invited to a ladies night and be seen as one of the girls and who offers relationship advice to everyone else because I am so cool. Im tired of it. I want to be the lead role in someone's life. I want to mean something to someone. I want to celebrate it. I want to celebrate it in a wide, obnoxious, insanely festive way. I want to celebrate with a whole exhibition hall full of people. I want people to be happy for me that I have not just married someone, but that inspite of living in a world full of chaos and invariable transience, I have managed to find someone kind, warm, funny and loving who always has my best interests at heart.
Im alone now and have been for a while. Even if I am able to find someone awesome, I will never be able to celbrate it the way that it was done this last weekend.
Its sad. And it sucks. And its my life. Its my future. I dont want to accept it. But i have to.
Maybe one day it wont feel as raw and exposed as it feels now.
But for now - I am really sad. And I really hate it.
Anyhoo, I am in hot, humid and sometimes horrifying Durbs. I came down for a wedding. My cousin's wedding. My cousin who is the same age as me who I grew up with and who managed to bag herself a good rich man and settle down.
You would think that most of the family would be pre occupied with her good fortune....but alas.....I was faced with the Durban equivalent of a Spanish inquisition at which I had to defend my case of why I am still unmarried - and synonomous with that sentiment - unworthy of being alive. Fearing that I was about to be chained and burnt at the stake for commiting the ultimate sin (being single at age 25) I quickly chirped that I was happy to be single and was not concerned with any small town notions of getting bunked up with some misfit just for the sake of it. The fact that in my mind the misfit in question would have to be capable of growing facial hair is something I kept to myself. I was annoyed yes, but not to the point where I was ready to kill half my family by coming out at such a public affair!
Anyway. The wedding was beautiful. My cousin made a heart wrenching speech in which she spoke about her late dad (my moms brother) and I started thinking about how different our lives would have been if things didnt happen that way. I also selfishly though about how our relationship would have remained as tight as it was. The fact that we grew apart is just as much my responsibility as anyones. We were kids and we had some really good memories but I do regret us growing apart. All of the emotions involved made me incredibly sad. Dont get me wrong - I am extremely happy for her. She has married the boy of her dreams (literally - I remember her confessing her undying love of him to me when we were 6). So she really is a living example of fairy tales and dreams and hopes and all things magical and innocent coming true.
But it made me sad for me. It was such a wild, vivid, colourful, loud and festive celebration. Indian weddings are just like the movies. Dramatic, bold and intense. The celebrations last for days - and the fact that so many people are present make it a complete sensory overload.
I will never have that. Never. No matter how acceptable it becomes, no matter how progressive this world gets, no matter what my families reaction is I will never have that. Its not just about being gay. Its also about what you invariably have to give up in the process. I hate it sometimes. Really hate it. I hate being the funny gay friend that can be invited to a ladies night and be seen as one of the girls and who offers relationship advice to everyone else because I am so cool. Im tired of it. I want to be the lead role in someone's life. I want to mean something to someone. I want to celebrate it. I want to celebrate it in a wide, obnoxious, insanely festive way. I want to celebrate with a whole exhibition hall full of people. I want people to be happy for me that I have not just married someone, but that inspite of living in a world full of chaos and invariable transience, I have managed to find someone kind, warm, funny and loving who always has my best interests at heart.
Im alone now and have been for a while. Even if I am able to find someone awesome, I will never be able to celbrate it the way that it was done this last weekend.
Its sad. And it sucks. And its my life. Its my future. I dont want to accept it. But i have to.
Maybe one day it wont feel as raw and exposed as it feels now.
But for now - I am really sad. And I really hate it.
Wednesday 10 March 2010
Meet Cooper Cullen
Hello.
I would like you meet someone.....The latest addition to my family. Its little Mini Cooper Cullen.
Say Hello MCC....
He is shy...And why wouldnt he be. He is undeniably gorgeous, incredibly well behaved and sumptuously sexxxy (okay I know babies arent supposed to be sexy, and i am by no means a paedophile, so lets assume that he is 17 years old...oh wait....thats statutory rape.....okay he is 18).
While I was tempted to post the actual picture of him - I dont want to give away my identity and license plates. Next thing you know I have an army of stalkers just begging for a ride....hmmm on second thoughts maybe its not such a bad idea.
Anyway - below is a picture of his twin brother. The real Cooper Cullen is more beautiful though. I assure you. .....
Rats - the link isnt working (well I attach a web url instead). My baby coops would never be so disagreeable!
http://images5.ecarlist.com/photos/1490_271394/271394_001_7908.jpg
Anyway, I cant write for long. Mustn't neglect the work that is now necessary to pay my crippling finance payment. Every time I think I am dunzo with work I just take one look at him and realise, he (and I) are worth it....
I would like you meet someone.....The latest addition to my family. Its little Mini Cooper Cullen.
Say Hello MCC....
He is shy...And why wouldnt he be. He is undeniably gorgeous, incredibly well behaved and sumptuously sexxxy (okay I know babies arent supposed to be sexy, and i am by no means a paedophile, so lets assume that he is 17 years old...oh wait....thats statutory rape.....okay he is 18).
While I was tempted to post the actual picture of him - I dont want to give away my identity and license plates. Next thing you know I have an army of stalkers just begging for a ride....hmmm on second thoughts maybe its not such a bad idea.
Anyway - below is a picture of his twin brother. The real Cooper Cullen is more beautiful though. I assure you. .....
Rats - the link isnt working (well I attach a web url instead). My baby coops would never be so disagreeable!
http://images5.ecarlist.com/photos/1490_271394/271394_001_7908.jpg
Anyway, I cant write for long. Mustn't neglect the work that is now necessary to pay my crippling finance payment. Every time I think I am dunzo with work I just take one look at him and realise, he (and I) are worth it....
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