KRIS JASPER

yeah, Im writing my longest post, or something like that.

This was me, days before Christmas.

As if someone had written what specification and features a "nearly" perfect specimen should have and that someone had decided to produce me.

In here I am wearing a real skinny jeans, a purple jumper and everything else that does matter to any shallow individual.


And at Christmas eve, after arguing with A as A didnt want to buy me my most favourite food in the whole wide world since I was a toddler, and my most favourite food in the whole wide world is TWIGLETS.
But later on as A knows I am a descendent of Vikings, that my ancestors had done crimes in the ancient world and it's just a matter of time and petty triggers and violence will be resurrected in this world, that I could afford to ruin anyone's Christmas, A had decided to buy me 2 tumblers of TWIGLETS only if I buy A a bouquet of flowers .
Then like an ice left in the park under the scorching heat of the sun, I mellowed. I melted... My furies had died. I had my TWIGLETS... A had those bouquet of flowers.... and we are freakingly happy.

But as if my obstacles to endless Nirvana weren't enough, I forgot that I am KrisJasper, and that I ate papers. That I am different, that I always fight the tide and face opposing directions. 48 hours ago (or more if you happen to read this on 28th of December, or much even later) I sinned. A "forced" me to eat these:

• ROASTED PORK CHOPS seasoned with garlic and soy sauce and brushed with butter
• prawns fried in olive oil
• sprouts that had deadly side effects
• Spag with sweet and chilli tomato sauce, with 2.5 minced beef and topped with cheese
• Fruit salad made of Caramelized Dulce de Leche, pulverized Marks and Spencer's meringue, thick/double cream, Fruits, nata de coco and everything else that could end the life of Diabetics.
• Fruit cake topped with cherries, raisins and nuts
• and my Dad's recipe: whole duck cooked in 7up, wine, pineapple juice, soysauce and topped with pineapple slices, with baby tatos at the side (but A thought it's nice to ruin it by adding those vegetables). I reminded A that it should look like a freaking duck with syrup, not a fucking duck stew. But too late... the murder has been done.

• I have been talking with a deep toned voice,
• Talked using flowery/ancient english words (aka: neologism; Neologism are usually practiced by schizos),
• I decided I would stop taking my pills as my pills make me sleepy... and vampires dont sleep
• I bite A's neck everytime I feel the urge. A said I have to be careful as a dagger will be embedded in my heart if I dont stop. (I have not told A that I dont have a heart).