It’s official. Im addicted to Zuma Blitz in Facebook. I stayed up all night just to play Zuma. I didn’t do my laundry this weekend because of Zuma. I forgot to read text messages in my mobile (not to mention about replying them) because of Zuma. I go shower & eat my food just because my Zuma life is 0 and need to wait for 7.3 minutes for each heart/life to regen. Now I got 8 hearts, so I have almost 1 hour free time. So I blog. It’s 6.03am in the morning & waiting for my Zuma’s life full regen. I hate when people overtake my scores. I can’t sleep if I’m not in the top 3. I think Im going crazy. I need help.
I was at friend’s Salon & Beauty Spa opening last Saturday. Lucky I still don’t know Zuma Blitz that time. If not, I don’t think I able to make it to that spa shop. It was a small opening, only close friends & potential business partners were invited. But I tell you, the food was good. It was prepared by my friend’s maid. I wish to have her maid. Because soon Im going to die due to malnutrition. I ate fast food almost everyday, lately.
Since I contribute nothing, so I sacrifice myself to give a hand in preparing the food. It was not a very easy decision to make since I was wearing my favorite Zara’s white top. One tiny spit of that fried mee sauce, the shirt’s gone.
The spa is on rent to my friend, with its existing furniture & fixtures. It was a very cozy unisex beauty spa, combined with a hair salon and they using BioPearl for skin care & Tanamera ranges for body spa.
Looks better with me in it.
Sauna, Milk bath & massage area. This service only offered to FEMALE only ya. Don’t be too excited to come here when your wife/gf out of town.
Facial area
Some of the skin care products.
Salon Pack.
Beautician at work.
I didn’t get any chance to try their facial treatment yet, but Im looking forward to try their body care treatment.
Currently they are having promotions for early birds & 1st time customer;
B Frenzz beauty & Spa, No 17, Jalan wangsa 11, Taman Wangsa Ukay, Bukit Antarabangsa, 68000 Ampang Selangor. Confirm can become friends after that. haha.
You guys can try the leg waxing for fun though. Haha. All by appointment. Kindly call:
Nik : 013 – 3555897 or Nur 013 – 3811868
and they are hot. (Wtf, I sound like a pimp mom).
So, I was at this prestigious private event run by this magazine for millionaires - celebrating millionaires in Malaysia at Subang Terminal 3, Skypark, this week. It’s not like I was invited, but I was paid to be one of the front liners during the registration. You see, it is normal for every event to have registration book, access pass and all, unless it was held at your kitchen mansion. You have to get pass the security check point for God sake. It was held at airport terminal, you need the access pass regardless who you are – human, alien, leprechaun, R2D2, Chewbacca or millionaires. So here are few scenarios that I encountered that night;
Scenario 1: A lady came with sweet smile with her partner. So I greeted her & asked her to jot down her name or drop her name card before I could handed out the access pass. She had to. I have to make sure her name is in the guest’s list. She told me she got the invitation. I know, but I just followed the procedure. So she said something with sarcastic looks, like do my partner need to register too? I smiled & said yes. But her partner said something funny to this lady, like “do I have to? Im just your toy boy you know, no one should know me” and the lady quickly replied “ah, you are my toy boy with ferrari”
Scenario 2: An Indian man came with loud thump towards my registration counter with his full suit complete with bootlace tie around his neck. What is missing was his cowbow hat. If not he can go for Indiana Jones role casting. He wasn’t looking at me at all. His eyes & nose all up to the ceiling. I was like.. what’s wrong with this guy? So I asked him to do the same thing, which is jot down his name or drop his name card. He was reluctant and give me the look like “Do you know who I am?”. I just smiled and slightly pushed the registration book closer to him. I can see he got a bit annoyed with me and took the pen and wrote his name in fucking bigass capital font size. Like size of 20 or something (normal font usually 10-12 mah). It looks like this>>> DATUK MR. ARROGANT I GOT THE MONEY (example okay? I can’t put his real name, later got sue by him lo) So, half page gone. I have to flip to the next page for other guests. Damn.
Scenario 3: Another man came. He was even funnier. He mentioned his name & his highly title so loud the moment he reached my counter like I am deaf or will quickly handed the necessary just by listening to his name. I don’t know you. and if I know you, still, you have to jot down your name or drop your name card so that you can pass through the security point. This little lady is a gate keeper. You can say “hey, my expensive magazine subscriber fee pay your salary today”, still, this is what I was paid for – to take down your name. Sheesh.
Scenario 4: So, I proceed to the private lounge & show room area where expensive cars, private jets & choppers were, after I finished with the registration. My task this time is to follow the professional photographer, to choose good, glamorous, rich looking guests with their champagne glass to be featured into the magazine “lifestyle” section. And of course I need the name of everyone who’s in the picture. And again, urgghh.. I have to encounter the same problem, they were looking at me like expecting me to recognize and know who they are by heart. err.. hello? I don’t know you. Unless you are Jay-Z or Pharrell William, or Sir Richard Branson or David Beckhams or worst - Lady Gaga.
I mean.. seriously, why can’t they differentiate people who just doing their work or people who supposed to worship them? What’s with the attitude? I mean you can brag & boast all the way with what you got with your own crowd, but with me? – A girl who sit at registration counter? Aw, come on. Don’t tell me taht money & title made them into God’s wannabe & jerks le?
Phantom Drophead Coupe.
Up close with Ghost – tagged at RM2.8mil. and Jay-z don't give a damn about this since he got his Bugatti Veyron Grand Sport from his wife, Beyonce, for his birthday.
and as for me, I don’t need the money or title to be arrogant, self-centered bitch. I just born with it. It’s in my DNA.
Capiche?
"Wealth is of the heart and mind, not the pocket." ~ Billionaire Boys Club
Oh, by the way, this is my latest Zuma scores. and Im super happy.
