Mother's Love XVI

Hmm.

Don't you think sometimes certain women just can't live without a listening ear? Of course when I'm talking about 'certain women' on this blog, it is obvious who I am talking about.

But it's true! How many of you out there who are girls keep complaining your guy doesn't listen enough, or he doesn't talk enough? And how many of you guys out there who have heard your girl complaining to you about not talking or listening enough?

Anyways.. my mum has this habit of blowing shit up bigger than it really is, and more often than not it is my dad and I who have to duck from the shit as it hits the fan, and we're left cowering in the corner as the unstoppable bitching machine rages on about...

her female boss.

Isn't that always the case? Woman comes home from work, moment your foot steps into the door she starts chomping down on your ears about how her female boss is less competent, less capable, always out for trouble, copying her hairstyle, copying her dress-sense, trying to stir up trouble, refusing her a bonus, etc etc etc.

It's not that women can't talk.. this woman in particular (my mum) just talks way too much. Frankly, the news isn't new and I'd rather she start complaining about someone else rather than her female boss. I mean.. don't you have anything new to offer???

But back to listening ears... my mum has this way of telling me to go over to her and have a conversation, and when she says this, I cringe on the inside because the word 'conversation' in her vocabulary is the equivalent of a one-way grilling session, and a wicked excuse to find fault with yours truly.

Hence my fear of 'conversation'.. because, sometimes it spills over into other areas of contact with my mum.. in the sense that 'conversation' could occur anytime when I'm within a 5 metre radius of her.. and if she feels like it, sometimes the grilling occurs over the phone, to which I gladly slip the phone into my pocket until she hangs up.

XD.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love XV

Reposted from April 5th 2005

Hmm.

My day is just so typical... my mother has shouted at me at least thrice, and she has expressed her disppointment in me at least four times. No problem, I can't be bothered with her taking out her insecurities on me.

All my life she's been telling me to do my best in everything I do.. to work hard and excel. Then came along my passion for reading, and all she can do is suppress my joy of reading for pleasure.. she said I should be observing the writing technique, rather than reading the book for it's content.

It's the same for my guitar playing. It has been my one true hobby which I've kept at for more than four years... I've cried, loved just picking the thing up and strumming along to Vertical Horizon's 'Best I ever Had", I've felt pain and suffering playing along to the Rolling Stone's 'Wild Horses', and I've felt jubilation and excitement picking out the solo for 'Stairway To Heaven'.

In short, playing the guitar and putting my emotion into it has made me who I am today, and I can say that I've progressed thus far because of the passion I've felt for it.

And It's never going to go away.

So what do you do, when your mother tries to pry you away from something which has drawn out your talent and insatiable desires? You fight back. You stay strong. You know she's just ignorant and selfish because an instrument has literally replaced her place.

Where she should have brought me solace and wisdom, I have grown with my guitar and stayed independent. Where she would have told me she loved me, I have given my love to the guitar, and it has rewarded me with talent. Where she could have been my outlet of pain and confusion, my guitar has allowed me to remove all negative emotion through songwriting, and sheer poetry.

And all she can do about it is try and distract me from my desire to gain a better foothold in my emotional psyche; try and disrupt my mental train of thought by interrupting my songwriting; try and destroy my passion for the instrument.

In any case, I have to say that i have grown as a person through the guidance of God, who has passed on this talent through the guitar. And I will never forget where my salvation lies.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love XIV

Reposted from Wednesday, March 30th 2005

Hmm.

My mum hates me.

I'm not exactly fond of her either.

She sees me as a tool, a faulty appliance.

I see her as a nuisance.She hates my music.

I hate her voice.

I had previously blogged a whole post on how irritating she is, which makes Zelda look like an ant compared to her elephant. Then Blogger.com focked up my post, and it disappeared.So now I'm pissed.I've got a test later in the day.

I gotta vacuum the house by 10am.

I can't play my guitar without feeling guilty.

I can't type a sentence without a mistake in it.

I can't make my life any simpler, and she's making it worse.

I'm in love.

I'm not getting anywhere with that one-sided love.

I don't know how she feels about me.

i just feel so hopeless and insignificant.

Why can't things be simpler, and uncluttered?


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love XIII

Reposted from Monday, March 7th 2005

Hmm.

With Brother Dearest in the army, and Daddy Darling in Switzerland... guess who has to listen to the old woman wheeze out her problems to all evening?

Yeah. Yours truly first had to endure the daily routine of scold, scold, and more scolding before dinner made its way unto the dinner table.

And it was all because of the bloody rice. Usually, Daddy Darling will have gotten the rice started by the time I reached home from school. By the time I'd gotten out of my shoes, he'd have finished washing only the white rice, which is put into the cooker after the red rice cooks. Then he'd shout for me to wash the veggies, peel the garlic, rinse the bowls and lick his boots.

After getting most of the things done, I'd set up the table and only then I'd be able to get my shower after a (definitely) long day. Oh, and don't forget to bring down the laundry, my good lad.

Anyhow, Uck-Me was just plodding on with her usual 'you're such a lazy good-for-nothing' lecture on how I should remain thrifty (hello, $225 wah-wah pedal), how i should make more effort to focus on my studies (hello, computer), how i should make myself more involved with the family duties (hello, good-looking!). Ok, scratch the last one.

Oh, let's not forget her good 'ol: "Mummy is trying to teach you how to be a better person, if you listen to mummy, you'll never go wrong".

Yeah. Absolute bollocks.In any case, she's always trying to make me stay downstairs ("come down, boy! eat fruit!"), trying to make me play less guitar ("come down, boy! eat fruit!"), trying to make me talk to her ("come down, boy! eat fruit!"), and mother of all things... just to interrogate me whether: I have a gerrlfriend, I defecate consistantly and if I work few hours so that my pocket money is pathetic.

In any case, all I had to do was; shut up, eat my veggies, and calm her down by telling her I got an 'A' in AutoCAD.

Oh, and I brought in the dry laundry as well.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love XII

Reposted from February 8th 2005

Hmm.

Ok, well the reunion dinner's over, I managed to play four songs for my relatives, three yielded applause for what ever resaon I do not know. At the end of it came the big clean-up.

Little did I know my innocent uncles, aunties and relatives could leave behind so much rubbish on my house floor... I suppose the wine must have did them in.

Anyhow, when it comes to cleaning, not many can hold a torch to my mother in the areas of consistency, rigidity and obsessiveness. I have to wipe a window with water marks, spending at least ten minutes to make sure that the water marks were gone and were invisible when a light shone through the glass. Also, the glass dinner and coffee tables were also wiped to a sheen by yours truly under the eagle-like gaze of UCK-ME (Ultimate Clean-Freak Mother for Eternity).

So since I have played the role of SUCK-ME (Son of Ultimate Clean-Freak Mother for Eternity) to its fullest, I can now blog in peace, whilst UCK-ME is still contemplating the stubborn dirt left behind by one of my relatives.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love XI

Reposted from Monday, February 7th 2005

Hmm.

We all luuurrrvvve our parents don't we? Whenever we do something, even though it ain't our bloddy fault it will come back and haunt you, culminating with your old people lurking at you behind and chomping down on it with one false turn.

Anyhow, the crack's on the wall, and you can't escape the annual (dreaded) reunion dinner, and of course if there are family politics, you'll notice a few people missing because they didn't polish up their memory of family member's names.

My mother sure knows how to get the ball rolling... being endowed with the title of 'Ultimate Clean-freak Mother For Eternity' or UCK-ME, she is severely determined to eradicate any form of sirt and untidyness in the house. Since the reunion dinner is at my place, that means only one thing of course:

Mother: 'New Year coming arh, better clean up your room and cupboard ok? Today clear out all your cupboards arh.'

Crawldaddy: 'Argh'

M: 'See your table! Soooooo messy! what the relatives will say when they come for reunion dinner arh. I want to see everything cleared by lunch time. Start Now!'

C: 'Argh.'

But of course, that doesn't end there, especially when your mother is the UCK-ME, and you are the 'Absolute Slacker Son' or ASS. Then she'll be coming to you while you are (hopefully) silently playing your unplugged electric guitar and stop short.

M: 'Ah! See! Still play guitar! Start clearing your things!'

C: 'Argh.'

So the Uck-Me will then fire off another string of chores for you to commit to and complete by lunch such as:

M: 'Fertilise the garden!'

C: 'Err... How?' I'm sure she didn't want any controversy regarding us amongst the neighbours.

M: 'Fertiliser lah!' pointing to a huge bag and a kong (hand pail).

Ok, so that means dumping a whole load of Australian Balck Bone powder on the under-nourished buggers.

The previous days also involved me re-varnishing the patio, screen doors and listening to AC/DC while at it. I suppose the neighbours would have preferred me not bellowing out the chorus of 'Big Balls'.

Cheers, Jool.

I just hope that one-son-of-a-gun cousin of mine behaves himself when he comes over. He's a chip off the block as the saying goes.. his dad, my fourth uncle, is one Bruce Lee fanatic, and whenever his little man goes off tangent, you'd hear stuff like:

Cousin: 'I want to kill you and drink your blood so that I'm strong'

WTF?

Of course he's improved over the years, so that means he'll say less and kick more, Bruce Lee style incorporated. Just let him stay too close to my amplifier and he'll be in for a shock of his life.

Just hope UCK-ME let's me off for the next few hours or so, so that I can have some peace.

Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love X

Reposted from Monday, December 27th 2004

Hmm.

Juz managed to download and hear The Rolling Stones song 'Dead Flowers', which my granduncle Peng Yew once tried to teach me to no avail cuz he didn't have the notes.

ANyho,w the song is pretty much like any good ol' Rolling Stones hit: light-hearted, sometimes quirky in lyrical content and essentially very much enjoyable.

I'm just back from poly, and I'm just chillin', waiting for time to fly before I have to get down town and go for my 7pm shift at the bloddy convention centre. There's a training class for those who don't want their work passes destroyed (or so the management hints), and what the hey, I haven't exactly found another job yet, so I'll just ride the storm as best as possible.

I'm listening to Led Zeppelin's all-acoustic rocker 'Hey Hey What Can I Do', which apparently isn't featured on any of their albums. It is actually a kind of 'secret', which is only for those 'crazy' enough to get a p2p programme to download the song. It's a good song, full of acoustic guitars, loud vocals and mandolins. The good country-ish type. Just one thing: Robert Plant's vocals definitely aren't country-ish.

Aunt Joan and Family should be arriving in Singapore by tonight. They were in Khosa Hui, which my mum thought was above Phuket. If you heard the news about the recent earthquake in Sumatra, you would've heard that Phuket was badly hit. So my mum, being jittery, called up Aunt Joan to inquire about their well-being.

Apparently, Khosa Mui was like on the eastern side of Thailand, so my mum kena malu, due to her inexperience in geography.

Mum: 'Are you guys ok? Is Khosa Mui badly hit?'

Aunt Joan: 'It's on the other side of Thailand, but thanks all the same.'


Oh well, at least her heart was in the right place.

Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's love IX

Reposted from Saturday November 27th 2004

Hmm.

My school results came out recntly, and my mother wasn't really happy. Well, I told her my results over the phone, and i could hear her unhappy tone over the phone. I, therefore became unhappy since she was unhappy with my results and I accidentally cut her off because my phone became unhappy with our unhappy conversation and developed the unhappy habit of conking off whenever it could, and causing me to be further unhappier.

Urgh.

She said that I should cut down on my guitar time, and start focussing on being the best. When expressing my views she was being very negative about my marks, especially since it was just the first semester, she said this:

'I'm being supportive of you, you know, and I'm trying to encourage you to get better results' all the while sounding as though she were talking to a new-born.

For your very information, my guitar playing (though it may take up a considerable amount of time everyday) is completely out of my mind whenever I focus on my school work, and telling me to hang the darn thing up is in no way encouraging me to do better in school.

I dunno, maybe I'm just so paranoid about whatevr she says that it turns out negative to my ears everytime.

Anyhow, recently saw some DVDs featuring the band Yes, and they really rock dude!!! Steve Howe is really one guitar pro. Chris Squire is a great showman-cum-bass player, and Jon Anderson's vocals bring the audience really close together.

I just wish I could bring on such expertise in my playing and singing... I suck terribly recently (no thanks to pressure from mother to quite guitar).

Anyhow, check out next time, gotta go.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love VIII (and Murky Waters of Songwriting V)

Reposted from Thursday, November 25th 2004

Hmm.

My mum recenty banned me from going online for the rest of this month..... guess I'm not that good at following orders huh (judging that I'm blogging right now)?

So here I was sitting here blogging away, and she comes in:

Mother: 'I want to whack you'

C: 'WHAT??? Why? I never do anything what...' (heeheehee, Alvin)

Mother: 'How often you go online?'

C: 'maybe twice per day' (I'm lying through my braces folks)

Mother: 'Well, (shouts somethng unintelligible), (shouts more things that aren't even words), you an't use the internet for the rest of his month'

C: 'Ok.. whatever..'

And I'm still blogging.

I manage to go to some talk with Alvin last night, the details are at his blog... all i can say, it was very dull and poetic, (note extreme sarcasm for last word) and eventhoughI was siting next to my lecturer, I was sleeping 80% of the bloody time.

That means it was (toot)ing boring guys....

Anyhow, receivd a handwriten, and had-delivered noe from my classmates, (she gave it to me herself) and I containedsome confidentialstuff which only Alvin and myself know abou. To give you a tantilising hint, it was about how both of us used to be friends, why we drifted apart, why she wants to get back, and she is sincere about getting back again.

She said she was miserable during the holidays because of the falling-out (frankly speaking, I didn't know why she was so miserable, but what the hey) and she wants to start afresh. I actually didn't realise she was trying to be mean or anything, or ignoring me. (it gets some use to, but I passed right?) and she hoped I would reconcile with her etc....

I sent her a birthday card complete with poem and ambigram.

I was nice to her until she grew cold and critical. Even then, I was just neutral, no warm stuff going her way.

I even thought she was well shot of me.


Being the *enigmatic* and *sophisticated* and surprisingly *subtle* individual, I wrote back a reply.

So I wrote a peom.

many people would notice I'm a very blunt person when it comes to my comments... and poems are supposed to have hidden meanings, et etc.. decipher them youself stuff right? After all, if she wants to get back, she'll have to work for it you know?

Well, I wasn't THAT cruel... I just re-recorded a new version of 'Starry Night' (my personal composition since early this year) which, by the way, also includes hidden meanings. And I burned it into a CDs for her. I workd on it until mid-night and early in the morning. I do my share o reconciliation ok? I'm not that evil. Actually maybe i am.... that's why the song is included.. keep her puzzled.

I am going to send it soon, so I'll keep you guys posted then.

Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love VII

Reposted from Sunday, November 7th 2004

Hmm.

The other day, my mother came back for lunch (as usual) and she wanted to have lesser amounts of lunch just so she could slim down.
I pointed out that eating less, though it may help her lose weight, isnot as effective as stress control.

My mother is a very sensitive person. (place big DUH here)

She has a lady-boss, who follows my mother in any way she can. My mother would buy stuff like shoes, handbags, hair-dye products, etc. That lady-boss would have almost the same shoes, handbags and hair colour and style.

Talk about following my mother, she even bought the same Peugeot 307 which my mum drives.

So every other day, my mum would come back from work either in the evening or at lunch and she'll be proclaiming:
'THAT WOMAN, ARH, EVERYTHING ALSO FOLLOW ME ONE. I BUY WHATEVER THING, ARH,SURE TO FOLLOW, YOU KNOW'

And of course, in typical mother-style she'll be saying this as though she wastalking to a person with bad hearing. Especially since my dad and I are right next to her.

Truth to tell, when she does this sort of thing every other day, I can't helpbut smile snidely when she says this:

'Where got stress? I am not stress with that woman ok? i tell you arh, sheeverytime follow me, arh, everything also follow me you know..'

YEAH, RIGHT...... no stress huh?

One thing is for sure, she still hasn't got the idea of 'lowering her stress to lose weight' into her head.

Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love VI

Reposted from Friday, October 29 2004

Hmm.

This morning, i slept at 2:30am, and got up at about 7am. due to last night's botched attempt to produce something concrete with my clay model, I had left my table exactly as it was and went to bed after brushing my teeth over-zealously.

In the morning, I went down to breakfast, and as per every messy-table-last-night-before-you-went-to-bed *conversation* with mother, it ended up with her attacking my every possible flaw, with her concentration rotating around my messiness.

I mean, I'll clean it up later, yarh? What's the (toot)ing big deal? I mean, unless some form of giant alien earthworm come gallivanting across the universe to consume the clay dust particles on my desk, wrecks the house in the process and then leaves with a self-satisfying burp, there really isn't any reason for her to shout at me other than her impeccable preference for cleanlinessI can almost imagine myself trying to tell her to take it easy.

Her eyes will bulge and then the shouting will start all over agan.

After that, she'll start to stuff my small lunchbox with every bitty bit of tasteless fruitcake she can muster together. During those few precious seconds, I have to distract her subsantially such that I won't have to resort to giving away most of the fruitcake away to my classmates, and just eating a bite myself. This includes:

C: 'Mum, I don't have any class today, and I'll be busy working on my project so I won't have time to eat the cake, ok?'

She just looked at me and shoved in more cake.

C: 'Mum, didn't you hear me? I WON'T BE ABLE TO EAT THE CAKE BECAUSE I'LL BE TOO BUSY.'

Mum: 'So? Eat while you work, then you can eat while you work.'

I believe you'll want to read that line again.

C; 'Wh-wh-what? I don't have the time, so I can't eat the cake, ok? If I don't have the time to eat, then you'll be seeing a full cake-box when I get back.'

Mum: 'You'd better eat it or I'll whack you'

C: 'It's true! that's why I stayed up till 2:30am last night just so I can get some headway into the project.'

Mum: 'WHAT!!! YOU STAYED UP TILL 2:30AM??? SO LATE!!! WERE YOU ON THE INTERNET???'

C: 'I was working on my project, not working in the internet...'

Mum: 'You better eat the cake arh.'

C: 'Mum, how many times must I tell you: I.... Dun...Have...The...Time...Ok?'

Then she went off into a rant about how I cannot multi-task and be an efficient person.

Pray tell, how I can eat the cake when my hands are covered in clay dust?If you can come up with a solution (apart from any which involves spending money) then I'll be taking my hat off to you.

Also, I'll be keeping mother away from you.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love V

Reposted from Saturday, October 16 2004

Hmm.

I was having a fantastic lunch with my mum, dad and brother. We were eating a fusion-style lunch at home comprising of chips, chicken drumsticks with a plate of garlic bread and a dish of chinese style beans and mushrooms.

My mum and brother were planning to go out at night to visit Suntec city cuz there was a Topshop warehouse sale going on. Hopping onto the opportunity for me to get more t-shirts, I asked my mum:

Crawldaddy: 'Is it ok that when you go out tonight, you get me some white shirts?'

Mum: 'Heeeeyyyy, please don't torture me with more work ok?'

Crawldaddy: 'I mean T-shirts....... T-shirts, you know?'

Mum: 'Ok, but you have so many shirts.'

Crawldaddy: 'Yeah, but I want more brighter-coloured shirts, cuz I mainly have black, blue and grey shirts...'

Mum: 'Ok, I'll be getting you shirts with BRIGHT YELLOW, BRIGHT RED, and BRIGHT WHITE... Ok?'

One thing's for sure, I know white-coloured shirts are bright enough as they are, but 'BRIGHT WHITE'??? I dunno if she meant them to be luminous or something....


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love IV

Reposted from Wednesday, October 6 2004

Hmm.

Whenever your mother walks into your bedroom or study, what do you believe she will say the first thing she enters your room?

My Mother has a very strong belief system: anything that is a millimetre out of place should be put back in it's proper position (whether original or new-found). and if the item is an inch away from it's proper placing, the culprit who did not return the item back to its original position deserves a good arse-beating and possible trip to the gallows.

Of course, this means that instead of the usual 'How was school today boy?' She'll just bark out something along the lines of 'Pack up your tables and tidy up your bed! Do this now or you'll be facing the gallows in five minutes time!!'

I'll just look at her blankly with my headphones on, and I'll (just for the kicks) ask her to repeat herself. By this time, she'll have moved on to the part where I dod not keep my table prim and rosy as though my study was on display at Madame Tussaud's or some fancy crib downtown at Christie's auction house.

Needless to say, (as it is always the case where mothers are your natural rulers and slave-drivers) I packed up my stuff, but still managed to make it (my table) just as messy as it was within the few short moments where she just steps out of the room. Talk about Competency huh?


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love III

Reposted from Sunday, August 29 2004

Hmm.

Cutting my finger at work today isn't a fun thing to happen to you. My part-time job is working as a waiter in some big-arsed caucasian's Convention Centre down town. Apparently, they provide insurance for their employees, so I'm willing to overlook the caucasian's big-arsedness.

I cut my finger when I was handling the cover of a buffet-dish, and at first I didn't realise what had happened. However, an immense amount of blood flowing out subsequently caused me to squeal like a pig in the process of being slaughtered. I rushed to my supervisor, and I was out of the Convention Centre within 10 minutes with a small bandage on my left forefinger.

I called my mother to tell her of what happened, and this is the conversation:

'Mum, I just hurt myself at work'

No reply

'Mum, I just hurt myself at work'

'Ok, so when can you get your pay?'

'the cut's deep, but I think the bleeding's controlled already'

'Yeah, so how much do you think you will get paid for today?'

You can call it being pragmatic, but what happend to the usual case of mothers asking 'oh, are you alright dear?'. Absolutely disappointing.

'So I think I gotta go to the hospital, just to ensure that everything's ok.'

'WHAT??? ARE YOU NUTS? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE TH...'

' I can claim my cash from work'

No reply

'I... can claim... the cash.... from work.... heard it?'

'So how much did you earn today?'

As you can see, I have a very, very loving mother whose only concern is whether i get my cash and not whether my finger is in danger of infection and susequent amputation. I simply luuuurrrrve my mother.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love II

Reposted from Tuesday, 24th August 2004

Hmm.

As an individual wearing braces (ouch yes), I tend to get alot of questions coming my way: 'when did you put them on?' is quite common, 'how long will it last?' is another, but the most frequent one is 'it's expensive yeah?'. Of course, in olden days, braces were considered a luxury, even though those braces were unwieldy contraptions that can pick up cable television.

However, hygiene issues aside, i tend to keep developing mouth ulcers, and of course the favourite response from my mother when I wince while eating is: 'Boy, are you drinking enough water?', and the classic response will be: 'yeah, but i've simply got no time'. stupid huh? That kind of response will yield an interesting form of behaviour from my mother, especially when i simply refuse to eat anything, for fear of agitating the wound in my mouth. for example, oranges have citric acid, and according to my mum, Vitamin C is good for mouth ulcers (by the way, research online shows this is pure fiction, and means that my mother still obstinately believes in). therefore: 'i'm not eating oranges today, nor the apples, I've got an ulcer' would cause 'SO? eat them, they'll solve your problem and cure your ulcer even more, it's the Vitamin C, Boy... the Vitamin C'.

Of course, anything I refuse to eat, will in my mother's eye, mean that it will help my ulcers to go away (complete bullcrap). So what can I say? Mother's love is mother's love, no matter how ignorant it becomes.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy

Mother's Love I

Reposted from Tuesday, August 24 2004

Hmm.

We all know our mothers (except those who lost them, my condolences.), and I'm sure we can look back one day and appreciate their love and caring for us. However, i think that day is yet to come. take my mother for instance: she makes sure i bring snacks to class everyday which she makes with her own two hands, be it cakes or scones or some other tasty, soft eatable. Frankly, I really appreciate her care, but I simply do not have the time to enjoy her works. time between classes is mainly occupied with homework or movement between blocks to get to class, such that the only way to finish off the stuff she gives me is to get a cup of coffee, douse the eatable in coffee and stuff it into my mouth with my mind turned off.

Sad isn't it? How many mothers out there make sure we eat enough ('you're too skinny, boy!' or 'you're too pale, boy!' or even 'I can't even see your arse in your pants, boy!') by packing stuff for us to eat? Even more so when we don't take the effort to enjoy our mothers' efforts by saying a simple 'thank you' or 'Love you mum'.

Thought for the day: your mum loves you, doesn't she? so go back home and say something nice to her, spend time quality time to bring about a stronger bond between you and her.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy