I watched the music video of Anaconda the other day…

I cannot unsee what I saw…

I spilt it...

My Anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns hun! 😛

If I Have Gay Children: Four Promises From A Christian Pastor/Parent

john pavlovitz


Sometimes I wonder if I’ll have gay children.

I’m not sure if other parents think about this, but I do; quite often.

Maybe it’s because I have many gay people in my family and circle of friends. It’s in my genes and in my tribe.
Maybe it’s because, as a pastor of students, I’ve seen and heard the horror stories of gay Christian kids, from both inside and outside of the closet, trying to be part of the Church.
Maybe it’s because, as a Christian, I interact with so many people who find homosexuality to be the most repulsive thing imaginable, and who make that abundantly clear at every conceivable opportunity.

For whatever reason, it’s something that I ponder frequently. As a pastor and a parent, I wanted to make some promises to you, and to my two kids right now…

1) If I have gay children, you’ll all know it.

My children won’t…

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I’m Back for Round Two!

Hello there!

You may not recognise me because I have abandoned WordPress for God knows how long. Anyway, I’ve decided to be faithful again so I promise you’ll be getting more posts out of me.

I believe this is the second year I’m using WordPress now. I think. I joined the summer before year 11 and now I’m in College. Which is very much swell. Very much. Indeed.

Anyway, as an apology, I would like to fill you in on what I’ve been getting up to.

Hitotsu! GCSEs. I hated them but oh how I long for them! College started out as a breeze to be honest. I ended up taking all the sciences and maths and they went well cause they’re my strong points. But now… I’m regretting physics. Physics is killing me. I feel like shooting everyone in my class. Teacher included. The guy who sits next to me is kinda cute and he seems to be the only one who really likes physics, but he doesn’t pay that much attention to me. None of them do. My chemistry class is a lot nicer and I like the people I sit next with. But I digress. I believe I was talking about GCSEs.

Unfortunately, my eczema really took a turn for the worst and I had to go to hospital at one point. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before… Anyway, I’ll get to my hospital trip stories (yes, plural) later. Now, finishing my GCSEs was hell, because of my eczema, because of the lack of sleep, because of the fear that I won’t get to hang around with my crush anymore. I was really dreading results day. I told my mum to promise that whatever I got she’d still love me. She said she understood.

I was shaking as I made my way to the school. We were kept outside for so long before the finally opened the gates of hell…

Or maybe the gates of heaven, cause not one person was crying out of disappointment, which I was glad to see. Because my surname is in the A,B,C ect range, I was one of the first to get my results. I was shaking. Seriously shaking. People were telling me that it was stupid to worry cause I’m a genius and I’m gonna get all A*s. That made me feel even worse. Expectations are like a huge weight on your shoulder…

So… I opened the envelope… Slowly… Slowly… Then I got impatient and ripped it. I slowly pulled out the piece of paper. My first reaction was confusion. There was a huge list of grades and UMS points and it was so confusing. Eventually I realised the few rows were my actually grades. I couldn’t believe it… I was gonna cry… I didn’t, but I couldn’t really speak properly because I was all filled with emotion. 8A*s and 2As. IT’S A MIRACLE!!! Jesus, I was so scared of results day. I almost didn’t go. I was almost sure it was a fluke or something. Especially music. I got an A but I was expecting a B at the most. Well, I don’t care. They’re over! Finally!

Now, what’s next… ah yes, my eczema. Finally, after waiting months and months and months, I have finally started phototherapy. I was really happy but nervous at the same time. I didn’t like the idea of having ultraviolet waves shot at me constantly in some hot claustrophobic machine. Still. As long as I get better… I’ve had this phototherapy before and as far as I’m concerned, it didn’t really bother me that much. This time round, I’ve only been to one session and oh my goodness how my skin flared up. I’m not constantly dry, itchy and in pain but I’m counting on it going away soon. But my next session is on Tuesday…

My eczema’s gotten so bad this time round, ever since June. During my exams, they wanted to admit me into hospital but I was like hell no, I’m not missing my English exam (Got an A*, thank goodness I went…). Three months later, the same thing happens and this time I’m admitted and I don’t want to tell you the hell I witnessed in there. I’ve always wanted to see what it was like to be admitted. I now take that back.

I mean, I was stuck in A&E the first day because they couldn’t find me a ward. There I stayed for hours on end, bored out of my mind and not being able to do anything cause moving my hand somehow affected the drip I was attached to. God, THE DRIP. SO ANNOYING. It was basically a bag full of salt water cause they said I looked severely dehydrated. Because I had water constantly being pumped into my arm, I needed to go to the toilet every few minutes. My mum had to help me every time cause I didn’t have a drip stand. At one point of the night, when my mum went home, I was absolutely bursting to go. I couldn’t hold the drip by myself so I pressed this button that calls the nurse. How I waited and waited and waited. Every second that went by, I was getting more and more worried I was gonna disgrace myself. I called my mum. She said to press the button. I told her I did. My mum asked if I wanted her to come. I told her no. In the end, I got up and called out to a nurse as she walked by. She gave me a stand. Thank the lord.

That first night seemed to go on forever, what with the random cries and screams I was hearing and the horrid sound coming from the woman beside me. Thank goodness for the curtain. I didn’t want to see whatever she was spewing up.

The next few days, when I was moved to the ward, I didn’t need the drip, but they were still giving me antibiotics through my arm so they kept the cannula on. I was uncomfortable and after a while it began to hurt too. I’m not really sure what I did for those four days, but for some reason I was never bored. My friends kept texting me, including my crush, but I’ll get to that, and I was grateful for that. During those four days I believe I used up over 2 or 3 thousand of my texts. Maybe 4000. I have no idea how that happened. Must’ve been when I was texting my crush. We text a lot now. Oh that’s right! No more credit now, just contract, baby! It was a present, along with my new phone, for my 16th, but again, I digress. Well I don’t have much more to say about the hospital, or rather, I don’t want to talk about the shower incident and the fright we all got when the woman opposite me took a turn for the worst. Moving on.

My crush. I didn’t mention this, but my crush is actually my friend Phoenix. I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before (yes, her, let’s be honest about my sexual preference which, by the way, has nothing to do with my obsession for gay men and the LGBT genre ) . Phoenix and I had been in the same form since the start of high school but we never really started talking until year ten and we really became friends in year 11. Now, even though we hardly see each other, our friendship continues to grow stronger and I hope it’ll be the same for Cinnamon and me. Phoenix and I really started talking when we started to discuss stuff like personality and mental disorders and soon we realised we had a lot in common. I’m not entirely sure when I started liking her. It just happened really and I’m not surprised, she’s an awesome person and even if I was straight, I’d still be into her. I guess it was cause of my crush on her that I wanted to get closer to her. I tried to hang out with her as much as I could without somehow invading her personal space and being annoying (I’m very conscious of that). After that time I texted her (I believe I wrote about that in my previous text) I gradually gained the courage to text her more. We didn’t text that often. We weren’t that close back then and I was too nervous to text her a lot. I felt like I needed an excuse.

Then, one day, when I got my new phone, I wanted to give her my new number but if a funny way so I texted her:

‘I’ve hidden the body. The rest is up to you.’

This was something I heard someone say in a prank call and I always thought it was hilarious. Obviously, I didn’t get a message back. She must’ve thought I was some weirdo creep. So I texted her that it was actually me and she replied saying that she was worried cause you never know. That was when I understood why no one else had replied to my texts so I quickly sent everyone else a text saying it was me before they block my number or something. Phoenix and I texted a lot that day.

But moving on to the bit I really wanted to mention. I confessed to Phoenix. Yes I was all like ‘But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you, Phoenix are the sun! I love you! My love for you burns brighter than the sun itself. Brighter than any star!

Nah, just kidding. But I did confess. Honest. But it was more like an awkward ‘I like you and I’ve liked you for a year now… and I didn’t know what else to say so I just sent that. YES- BY TEXT. Till this day Phoenix calls me brave and respects me because of it but still, I wish I could’ve said it in person. And I will. One day. Maybe. She said it was cool and asked me if I was gay, to which I answered, ‘bi, mabye…’. There have been loads of times where I regretted telling her that, but really it was at that moment when things got better. After building up the courage to actually confess my feelings (Though it was Ann who really motivated me to do it- she was the first person I told), I found it a lot easier to talk to Phoenix and nowadays we text each other way too much, but I don’t mind cause she’s a great person to talk to and I believe she feels the same way. It also gave me courage to tell some of my friends about my sexuality and perhaps gave me the courage to mention it here. I believe it gave me courage I needed to start college. I was constantly meeting new people and I knew the old me would probably shrivel up and crawl under a rock. The new me was pushing myself to talk to people, to strike up and maintain conversations. I’m still crap at conversing, but I’m getting there. I’ve already made one new friend in college which is a big achievement for me. I’m also quite friendly with the guy who sits next to me in chemistry who’s all into anime too. What’re the odds of sitting next to someone like that? I guess I was just lucky. Really, me and Phoenix, we’re closer than ever. We’ve told each other things that we haven’t told other people and sometimes I wonder if indeed we are soulmates, having so much in common and having similar minds and thought processes. I’ve talked about this mysteriously loneliness I used to feel. That has long since disappeared and I believe its thanks to not only Phoenix, but all my friends. All my friends that I have gotten even closer with since the start of college. In fact we’re meeting for a little halloween get together and sleepover too so I can’t wait for that! 🙂

I think I’ll stop here for now. I’ve written waaaay too much but I guess I just had a lot more to say than I imagined I would.

Long story short- things are finally going my way (though it doesn’t seem that way with the eczema flare up but at the moment I really don’t care)

I promise I’ll be posting! Promise! :3

~EpicCupcake signing out.


With exam stress and hayfever and the rest, my eczema/asthma/hayfever- that troublesome trio- have been acting up and, quite frankly, it hurt to… well, move. I’m not going to formulate a longwinded rant here because within my almost 16 years on this planet, I’ve had a lot of time to complain.

I went to my GP the other day after waiting for weeks to see them about my tedious sore throat and cough or whatever it was, and now that it had gone, like, ages ago, I went to talk about my eczema and my spontaneous flare ups. Flare ups that just happen. There’s no warning, no trigger, no anything. I just wake up and then BOOM! flare up.

So for some odd reason (Maybe I was feeling a bit too optimistic; my moods have been fluctuating to extremes lately…) I thought the doctor could actually HELP me. Boy, was I wrong. And boy, was I stupid.

I got there, after being mocked by a couple of boys on account of my lack of fashion sense (my mum later told me I looked like I had just gotten out of bed…Thanks mum.) and saw the doctor. My clothes choice must’ve screamed immature because his voice moved up a little in pitch (throwing in a little music revision) and he made lots of eye contact and I honestly felt like a kid.

It obviously didn’t bother me that much because I went right ahead and told him the problem like a mature young adult and not a shy toddler in a teenagers body, clinging to their mummy because they don’t want to talk. I swear, eczema must be considered an easy and hard disease or disorder for doctors. Hard because no one really knows what the hell causes it in the first place, and what the hell you have to do to make it stop. Easy because you don’t have to do much.

“Moisturise when it’s itchy.” Thanks Sherlock! Why do doctors, parent and pretty much everyone without eczema assume the itching magically disappears if you put a little cream on it. If that were the case, I’d go to school looking as oily as a Christmas turkey! This is sort of turning into a rant. I guess I haven’t gotten it all out of my system.

So I got the doctor to prescribe me more cream and some antihistamines that I didn’t even request and can’t, and probably won’t, use, said thank you, got the creams and antihistamines, used them, then scratched some more. My life is pretty cyclical.

In my life, there have been only three treatments that have ever work for me: this chinese remedy thingymajigimnotreallysurewhatitactuallywas, UV radiation photo therapy also known as light treatment, and steroids. Since I’m sure the store that sold the chinese remedy thingymajigimnotreallysurewhatitactuallywas has closed or whatever actually happened and I’m not very keen on photo therapy and have only had it once (not one time, just many over some time period), I’m cool with just sticking to the steroids. I’ve managed to receive topical corticosteroids creams/ointments a couple of times and I don’t use a lot anyway so they last, but for some reason no doctor will prescribe me the tablets which, actually, really make a difference. Sure it’s wise to keep taking steroids because of one reason or the other but I’m sure if I use them, I won’t have to use the steroid creams for a while. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to grow anymore.

I guess I’m a little annoyed at how doctors don’t even care about eczema sufferers. They either think they’ve got it worked out (Cream! Use cream and then, abracadabra you’re cured!!) or maybe they’ve just given up on me. After all, they said I’d outgrow it nine years ago and… here I am! If they can’t do anything or just can’t be bothered, they could just slip me some damn steroids and problem solve… temporarily… but hey- I’d take it over not solved at all!

I must sound like a drug addict… Maybe I am.

~EpicCupcake signing out.

Significant Other (He’s/She’s So Fine)


I’m taking a full day off revision so I decided to write something. Also, this could help my English- I really need the practice…

So yeah, this is a post is a reply to the daily prompt (I don’t have anything better to write about; my brain at the moment is 30% revision 70% cold squidgy mush).

I don’t like to lie, and I’m also pretty bad at it, so I’ll tell the truth. I don’t have a significant other. But there is someone who I wouldn’t exactly hate if they happen to ever become my significant other. Yeah, that’s all I’m saying about that, My sister already ‘accidentally’ read my blog one day so I’m being extra careful.

But if I had a type I’d say they’d have to meet a couple of requirements.

  1. They’d have to be weird: Seriously, if they weren’t weird then I’d just feel awkward the whole time. I have a couple (a couple?) of weird habits like blurting out strange things or… smelling steroid creams… Plus, weird people are different and therefore interesting. I don’t normally go for mass produced personalities.
  2. They’d have to be accepting: I’ve got more flaws than good points so… Plus it’ll be hard to date someone who’s got a bloody phobia of phones.
  3. They’d have to be honest: I don’t like lies. Liars are unappealing. I always like and appreciate people who are so real. There are so many fake people around me… It’s suffocating…
  4. They’d have to be loyal: Someone I can trust to stay by my side.
  5. They’d have to be thoughtful: They don’t have to be amazingly kind and caring, but they’d need to be considerate about others as well as their self. 
  6. They’d have to be able to notice me: I’m pretty much invisible. I’m like the girl version of Kuroko, but I suck at basketball. Once I meet that someone who picks me out from the crowd or across the room (or anywhere for that matter), I’ll fall head over heels in love. Or maybe I’d just feel a bit cocky.

As for physical appearance… I don’t really care that much. Though I like soft skin. And great smiles. Real smiles. Not facebook smiles. But physical appearance isn’t that important. A really good-looking guy with the personality of a rock cannot be compared to a plain average looking guy with a colourful, interesting and different personality. Yeah.

But, you know, you fall for who you fall for. That’s it.

~EpicCupcake signing out.


Very poetic 🙂



Have you ever wondered what your mind looks like? A glowing rainbow of thoughts, or an advanced calculator (never thought I’d use that in a sentence). Have you got more logic or creativity? The dreams and visions forming on shelves and memories to the million. How I wonder how all that fits in my head. I wonder do people forget things because their head is to full? Maybe you can’t concentrate on the present because you have too many thoughts about the future. If you need to let them go or not, if you really need them in life. It’s great to have ambitions, but you can’t get too hung up on what you might do. Patterns that thrive on colours. Dreams woven from the things you have seen, things you have heard, smelt, tasted. All put together and then forgotten, in a puff of smoke as you wake…

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