Warning : This is a post full of expletives and swearing. If you think your sense and sensibilities might be offended, go elsewhere. Fuck! Fuck! Double fuck! Double fuck does not even cover this. This is like a humongous loads piles of fuck waiting to just flatten you. Or already had. The thorne of trauma in my life now is the boutique that supposedly to be handling my wedding dress had fucking dissapeared. Gah! Gah! Gah! This is a situation so fitting to panic. I want to panic. Maybe I am panicking. God! I need a paper bag to breath through. The gist is, the dress should had siap like last weekend. But I went back to JB. So I decide to go back on Tuesday to amik the dress. Then it fucking close. Ok enough. Then I went back on Wednesday and Thursday. The light is on, but the door is locked. You also have no idea how many times I called and called but the calls went unanswered. On Thursday (yesterday), it seems like the shop is in dishevelled state. Magazines piled up in the middle of t
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