Windmill
Feeling extremely bored during the hols, I decided to assemble a windmill woodcraft.


Windmill Woodcraft
The assembly was supposed to be idiot proof and required only minimal effort. However, I failed to consider the country of the manufacturer and was having a hard time smoothing the rough edges with the tiny, thin. flimsy piece of sandpaper that they provided. After rubbing for around an hour, I think the paper was less than an mm thick and I could feel my fingers burning from the friction.

After assembling the pieces, the windmill looked really plain. So I decided to colour it. I dug up my poster colours which were all either in powder form or caked. So I went to buy a palette and a paintbrush, and tried to beg for some varnish from an auntie from a hardware shop but she refused to give me. Nvm. Stingy people will never make good businessman. No wonder the shop always look so empty. Ha.

Painting gives me great joy. For some reason. Its like breathing life into something.

When you paint you're really in the moment, so you're not thinking about anything that disturbed you from years ago or any anxious thoughts about the future.. like whether your next supper is going to be the last. You trust your subconscious when you paint, applying slow tedious strokes and making decisions along the way and it’s just a huge thrill.

Here's the finished product. With One Piece characters :)

It started innocently. With my virgin title. For the past two years ago, I find myself
spending an inordinate amount of time huddling in front of my television and my
dvd player soaking up Korean dramas.

I’m addicted to korean dramas. I cant do without them like how Koreans cant live without kimchi.

I cant remember exactly how many I’ve watched. Heres some that I recommend,
노란손수건 (Yellow handkerchief), 상도 (商道) ,이도(医道）, Hotelier..ahh theres just too many. For complete listing, please find me. lol. By the way, I’ve only completed a fraction of what my mother has watched.

A look at my mother’s stash. Bags and drawers are filled with serials.

Actually theres another layer behind which is concealed. This is only part of the total
asset she has. The rest are in transit (on loan to relatives/friends/neighbours)
Definitely more than the *ahem* collection I have. I figured out that the
combined property of my mother and my aunt might actually be enough to set up a
mini Korean drama rental store.

I was surfing around when I came across a site which highlighted the draw factors of Korean
drama serials and why they rank superior compared to HK and Japanese drama. The
heydays of Japanese and HK drama serials are over. I don’t even want to talk
about our local dramas. It makes me ashamed and cringe whenever I look at their
clichéd dialogues, hackneyed and shallow plots and atrocious acting. I’ve bold
out the factors that have been identified as the factors which led to the rise
in popularity of Korean dramas.

Purely and emotionally portray love, friendship, tragedy, loyalty, respect, and general
family values.

Not to forget their heart wrenching love/life stories. Eg. Glass shoe, well portrayed historical
figures such as대장금(Jewel in Palace) and injecting novel themes: the successful
rise of a female, which is rarely covered in historical genre, and the elements
of traditional food and medicine.

“Zoe Sister, Sorry. O Please dun cry. Come have some of my rice cakes…”

Highly romantic stories of people beating the odds to find and experience true happiness.

Personal favourites: Love at Harvard, Full house

Relatively little violence and sex.

True for the sex part. After all the dramas are meant to be family shows so they don’t do it in
front of kids. As for the violence….the husbands/boyfriends/males always seem to
get bullied, beaten and verbally abused by their female counterparts
(girlfriend/mothers/stepmothers/grandmothers/classmates…).

Cliffhangers, cliffhangers, and more cliffhangers from one episode to the next.

I've learned that complicated plots full of pathos and high drama are standard. Korean writers
seem to know how to write cliff-hangers. They tease, they titillate. You cant fall asleep without finish watching because you are still worried about the plight of the poor little girl. My daily limit to 2-3 episodes per day always end up becoming 4..&..5& 6, which explains why I always end up like a zombie in camp the following day.

Each Korean TV mini-series refreshingly has an ending. No Season 2, no sequels, etc. Most
series are between 10-20 episodes (each episode = 60 minutes).

I’m watching a 118 episode one right now. I think my mother is watching a 190+ episodes serial.
Erm..maybe they were referring to the mini ones.

Korean actors and actresses are BEAUTIFUL people.

Fully concur. Then again more than 75% of them went under the knife. But who cares. Beautiful.

Beautiful (and unforgettable) musical scores.

You know that you’re hooked when the opening/ending theme just keep going on and on in your
head. It’s a syndrome. You go oo lala lu lala haju ola hadada kadada haju lada..hey hee ah..hee e ay when you watch Jewel in the Palace. You go la la la wo wooo.. da la da la when you think of the perfect girl in Love in Harvard. I don’t know about other Korean drama junkies but I sing them secretly (mainly composed of undecipherable pseudo-Korean character syllables) when I’m walking
alone. That is the power of Korean dramas. Ok back to my DVDs.

Janus Migration Completed.
I have decided to abandon blogger due to the below reasons
1.I cant count the number of times of posts mysteriously vanished after posting.
2.Superlag.
3.Limited functions and unorganised.
4.Troublesome to host songs.
5.Its time for something new.

My new blog's address- http://www.wretch.cc/blog/pondstar for whoever who reads this blog. Feel free to write in the guestbook. I'm still in the midst of doing the layout though.

Was allowed to fall out early today so I decided to catch a movie with my camp mates. There were several movies on my i-wan-to-watch-badly list, namely Dick & Jane and Fearless and Womb Raider. Oh, and I not stupid too.

"Dick and Jane I didnt feel like laughing today.

I not stupid 2. I didn't have any girl to bring along to lend my shoulder to cry on. Lol. Crying with a bunch of guys seemed pretty gay.

Womb Raider. I had to head to Chinatown to squeeze with a group of ah peks in a rundown theatre. Furthermore, I have yet to reach the legal age."

With much woeful reluctance, I mentally struck out the movie from my list.
That leaves Fearless, Huo Yuan Jia..

And it didn't disappoint.

Fearless reveals how Huo Yuan Jia restored the pride and glory of the Chinese during the early 1900's from the intrusion and invasion of the Western powers and the growing Japanese power, where they have been calling the Chinese 'the sick men of Asia.'

The punches, kicks, blows exchanged were so well choreographed and beautifully executed by Jet Li. That just left me gasping and gaping in awe. His fluid movements and flawless executions make Jackie Chan look old and ready for his retirement. Tony Jaa's stunts seem uncouth and kiddy in comparison to the traditional and refined moves delivered by Jet Li.

I love the opening scene. A British boxer, a Spanish swordsman, a Prussian soldier - three formidable fighters step into the ring, and one after another, Huo Yuanjia defeats them all. Chinese martial arts style. Definitely kick-ass and feeds the Asian ego when you see the ang moh exponents get clobbered by Huo Yuan Jia. The fighting scenes in his swan song are going to go down in the annals as one of the greatest Chinese Martial Arts film. So impressive are the
scenes that I now rank them ahead of Zhang Wu Ji thrashing the various menpais
with their own menpai skills in Yi Tian Tu Long Ji ,and Yang Guo and Xiao Long Nv practicing Yu Nv Xing Jing in the bushes in Legend of the Condor heroes.

The movie also showcase the past of Huo, who was then a proud and arrogant fighter who wanted to make himself the one and only invincible fighter of TianJin. His arrogance and past victory from the competition indirectly led to the death of his mother and daughter who were killed in brutal revenge. If I'm not wrong, I think Jet Li also incorporated some elements of Buddhism into the movie.

Huo Yuan Jia - A fighter, who represents Chinese martial arts to a nation; A man, who fought his way out of darkness and into history. And so has Jet Li.

Mahjong Craze

I used to think that mahjong was a leaden, insipid game designed for stodgy old folks and the wealthy tai tais to occupy their vapid time while waiting for their deaths. Its more irksome when coupled with the shuffling of the ivory pieces every time people 'wash' their tiles after games and the constant silly shouting of pong , gang and hu. I dismissed mahjong because of the fatuous, clownish and uncouth behaviour that's characteristic of mahjong playing. Therefore, I never bother to pay attention to the gameplay until I was introduced to the game at my grandaunt's house during Chinese New Year visiting.

It was only then that I realized how wrong I was. The rules and objective were briefly explained and basic gameplay was taught to me. After a few games, I managed to have an inkling of how the game was played. My uncle told me that one can tell a person's personality by how he plays his tiles in a game of mahjong. Whether the player is a conniving, sly bastard son of a Pinocchio, or whether he is square and predictable.

Expressions are extremely important. One must learn how to conceal one's joy or disappointment. I can picture Michelle Yeow telling Sayuri her protégé aka Zhang Zi yi, " A true mahjong plrayer can makte a man peee in his tracks with a single look. "

Armed with the little experience and inflated confidence, I decided to look for people to challenge. I went online to chat with some of my friends who were mahjong enthusiasts to fix a game with them. Soon enough, the trio were ready. I logged out and went to join the game.

I told them not to give me chance and go soft on me just because I was a newbie. I was eager to test out my new found knowledge. They sniggered at me.

"No problem, bunch of arrogant people. Lets see whose intellect and brains are more powerful."

They stacked and distributed the tiles with lightning speed like how they do in those Hong kong gambling shows. I stacked my tiles gingerly and pressed the sides of the snake shaped tiles clumsily in a weak attempt to get them up in vertical fashion.

Having set my tiles in place, I examined my tiles with the intensity akin to a pervert staring at the tiled wall separating his room from the shower-room of his pornstar neighbour.

"Wahahaha, 清一色 all numbers series, in ascending some more. Not bad for a beginner. You guys are all going to die. Wait till I get my tile, then good game already."

Adrenaline was pumping in me as I waited in eager anticipation for my final tile. Several rounds went by. Evidently luck wasn't with me. I still saw no signs of the tile which was the final key to the riches. Worry began creeping at me. I felt my perspiration trickling down my neck, my chest and into my navel. I was contemplating whether I should stop waiting and play other patterns instead. By pattern, I mean the bamboo or the tong.

"HU LE 胡了" Oh shit. Someone got his tiles before me. 十三么 WTF!!!!!!!!! -$8000! Great now my account has just entered into deficit. I think my face became whiter than a geisha for a moment.

The winner began laughing awfully loud. His screeching laughter sounded awfully familiar like 曾志伟...Phew, lucky thing I'm only playing Celebrity mahjong明星三缺一. If not.. I cant imagine the damage it would have done to my almost non existent savings. Looks like I have practice more. Oh, 洗牌啊 Next game!

Dog Ear!
Time to hit the books again!

Some bull

I was flipping through the chinese horoscope of the cow for the Year of the Dog for 2006 when i came across the disposition of the people who are born in the year of the cow.

"The character of the Cow is steady, conservative with strong inner self and has a sense of responsibility. He has a good creditability and honors his word. He is loyal and worships one principle. " Hmm, I like to think that I possess those traits.

"He enjoys being in a serene environment and has the temperament of the Cow. " I dun need a serene environment. I just enjoy idling around.

"Sometimes, it is hard to get along with them.He will be able to listen when he has calm down. "
Cow People like me are rather obstinate. They just refuse to acknowledge that they are wrong even when the facts are presented. Maybe we are even worse than mules.

"He is diligent at work, but will only be able to finish his task only under instructions. He does not have the courage to try out new venture. They do not have the patience and courage to earn too much money. Hence, the Cow works hard and silently. "

Heres my interpretation of the Cow:
A thickheaded, servile and bovine creature which only knows how to slog. He derives masochistic pleasures from the throes of constant flagging and dragging plough across the fields, chained to the cumbersome yoke, which he has gradually grown accustomed to. He knows that he is not like the hens n cocks who just mate and lay eggs. Nor is he like the gregarious parrot who knows how to carry the farmer's balls and talk himself out of situations. Hence, he has to work.

Sometimes, he dreams briefly about lovely pastures and sexy cows with milk-dripping nipples but often dimisses his dreams quickly with guilt for harbouring those lazy and filthy thoughts. He thinks the dreams he have are akin to the pile of manure that he just defecated. Full of bullshit. Hastily, he shakes his head to jolt himself back to reality. He lifts his eyelids desultorily to glimpse at the afternoon sky.

The sun continues to blaze at the field.

Fucking hot weather, he thought to himself. Cant wait for nite to cum.
Sure and steadfast, he continues to thread through the fields, hoping that every step he takes will draw him closer to dusk.
He mumbles and grumbles but never voices his complaints. The woes of the moo goes unheard because he is afraid of incurring the wrath of the farmer and disrupting the harmony.

Suffering in silence, quietly beneath the scorching sun.

Was clearing my cabinet during my room spring cleaning session today. Its amazing when you look at the paraphernalia of junk goods and useless stuff that i keep- scrap paper, half written letters, printouts of song lyrics, several outdated copies of I-magazines, Newman (which I tot featured not-too-bad photos), broken stationery which still exhibited some aesthetic value, smelted mentos covered with ants, Econs handouts which I forgot to distribute to my class because I misplaced them (zzz).

I discovered some buried 'treasures' amid all the junk. Dug up my sec 1 chinese file. Lucky thing it hasnt been devoured by silverfishes. 1998. 8 yrs...wad have I done during this 8 yrs?!

My file's content page. With my assessment and test papers that I'm proud of. Probably the only subject that I truly loved during my school days but the O lvl results disappointed me.

Used to spend inordinate amout of time decorating and writing those journals/ random musings for my Chinese teacher to grade. A pity most of the pieces have been "kidnapped" from my file. Up till now, I still do not know the whereabouts of the pieces that were originally meant to be sent to publishers.

One of the remaing inferior products.

Found a tabloid newspaper which we did as part of our English assignment. Enjoyed doing groupwork during those years, especially during brainstorming sessions where people churn out all sort of wacky and wicked ideas.

I've noticed that the older I get, the more cluttered my cabinets and drawers become. I become more reluctant to discard useless items that just take up space even though they serve no practical purpose. Its like these objects still retain some soul, a part of me, within them. I dunno. Maybe the sentimental self just wants to retain a part of history that I've experienced.

Time seems to flow in a different dimension after you pass 18. The gigantic clock seems to tick faster. You get the feeling that you have to clutch onto these little pieces of mementos before your memory of the past starts to fade out of existence as you draw towards adulthood.

First blood

Anyone who plays DOTA loves first blood. When a player's hero executes the 1st hero kill of the game, he/she will get extra 200 gold and also the "First blood" verbal acknowledgement. They are some players who go to all costs just to gain that first blood satisfaction. It feels damn good when you get the first kill, especially when you blast your audio speakers and listen to the sound of 'First blood' reverberating throughout your room.

Everyone loves coming in first or being first. First to spear the joystick into the altar at the break of dawn of Chinese New Year , first to board the bus. First in the queue to be served the lousy food in the camp canteen. Sometimes, I wonder what's the obsession with being first? Is it due to the 'kiasu' nature of Singaporean? Perhaps the winning mentality has been deeply entrenched and infused to us since young, given the competitive society that we are in, that it has become a subconscious part of us.

Some people enjoy setting records by doing crazy things like downing 50 bottles of Guinness stouts just to get into the Guinness record or becoming the first Asian to scale 7 greatest peaks in the world. They brand their acts of temerity as a form of challenge and purports with loads of silly reasons. Just ask Annabelle Chong why she wanted to do the feat of having sex with 251 men in 10 hours. Alas, I've heard two women have broken her record. Its standing at 500 men now. Records will always be shattered because there will always be crazier people than you.

I saw a piece of depressing news in Today yesterday. It reported that vaginal reconstruction is now widely embraced and the most sought after plastic surgery. They can even tighten the muscles there and reconstruct the entire hymen from scratch (not that scratch) with hymenoplasty aka revirgination. No flaws. Just like a squeaky clean virgin even though you have seen more than a thousand visitors to your abode. I reckon the word chastity will be removed from the dictionary in no time. Hymens no longer = authentic virgins. :(

Maybe being first is not so necessary after all.

Fixing the pieces

Spent the day trying to assemble the thousand pieces jigsaw. Its supposed to be a Bleach family picture of the 13 shinigamis. There are only six of them in this puzzle. Theres still another seven of them in another 1000 puzzle waiting for us to fix them up after the great fall.
Hopefully we can finish this by tonight and move on to the next. Then we have to find a way to get this up onto the wall..still need to shop for a decent frame...and also pump in money to get the frames.... sigh. ..Hobbies like these are real costly.

Dun fuck around with Std

I should have heeded advice and not taken the risk. There's a threshold to the amount of deterrence that protection can provide. Now, I'm afflicted with this terrible, chancrous, itching rash that's all over my body.

I cant pinpoint the source which triggered the rash to swarm my entire body. However, I suspect its an allergy either to the medicine I took or the excessive wine/ alcohol which I consumed during Christmas. I believe it's the latter because my body has a low tolerance level towards alcoholic drinks. This disgusting rash is depriving me of my sleep and causing my body to twitch wildly in the office.

I used to have a rather severe case of eczema. For those who dunno what is eczema, it's a skin condition due to excessive reaction by the immune system producing inflamed, irritated and sore skin. I'm sure you've seen people with flaky, raw, bleeding skin. I call it the crocodile skin. That's why I liked reptiles when I was young because I thought I resembled them. Trust me, it's a mentally and psychologically troubling disease. You have to cope with the stares, your torn self esteem, your own anger/frustration, the 100s and 1000s of weird concoctions and remedies 'guaranteed' to cure your condition (but always fail to work) and the worst part, the itch. Luckily for me I managed to grow out of my condition when I hit puberty.

The itch is infectious. It begins with a minor prickling sensation. Your hand slide down to assuage the itch., by generating some friction on the skin. That little action is enough to spark off a disaster to your poor skin and bring about a severe case of dermatitis. The more your rub and scratch, the redder the patch starts to become and you start to derive a sick form of pleasure from the scratching of your skin. You start to intensify and accelerate your clawing strokes but you are oblivious to these because you are experiencing a semi-orgasmic-scratching pleasure. The blood starts to flow and stain your nails. You don't care. Not even the flowing blood can stop you from prolonging your pleasure. In fact, the pleasure is heightened with the addition of fluid since it serves to lubricate the friction. However, just like every wonderful moment must come to an end, your end comes when your hands get too wet and the metallic iron smell of your blood hits your nose. The aftermath is enough to make your feel a little guilty and giddy. When you raise your hands and you notice that it's all bloody. You dun even want to bother examining your wound. All thanks to that little itchy bitch.

Misaki Itoh!!

If beauty could be described any other way, it would be Misaki Itoh.

Japan is a living testament of age-old tradition, co-existing rather awkwardly with all the trappings of a rapidly developed modern society.

Avant-garde art and staid flower arrangement. Zen Buddhism and hedonistic lifestyles. Sumo wrestling and baseball. Heavy metal rock bands and the Kabuki theater. Geishas and Av industry. Its really all these complexities that make Japan such an interesting and wonderful place to tour.

More photos-

Day 4 http://www.flickr.com/photos/45619702@N00/sets/1653376/show/

Day 5 http://www.flickr.com/photos/45619702@N00/sets/1669576/show/

Our Japan Hour

The next few entries are going to be combined entries by my brother and I, chronicling about the sights and fun that we have experienced in Japan.

We'll be uploading the travel photos in segments due to the limited capacity of flickr and the lack of time.

PLs NOTE:
Language May Offend: Contains language that may be offensive to some groups, (i.e. sacrilegious language such as OMG; expletives.)

Coarse Language: Contains profanity, threats, slurs, sexual references or sexual innuendo.

Crude Content: Material or humour that is unrefined or coarse and that may be seen as harsh, rude, or offensive.

Ok With that in mind, you can safely proceed to the album ->

Day 1,2 http://www.flickr.com/photos/35973497@N00/sets/1627489/show/

Day 3 http://www.flickr.com/photos/35973497@N00/sets/1634359/show/

Click on the above link, a slideshow will pop out, pause the slideshow immediately and use the back/forth button to view. Click on the image to minimize the images so that the captions are visible.

My five days leave is over in a blink of the eye.. Why isit that time always pass so quickly when we are having fun? If only I have the power to control time...
Ok, now I only have 7 days more left to enjoy before I return to my boring and hectic workplace again..several hours before i reach the land of the rising sun!! :)

SaW II

I just watched Saw 2 with Junwen at Plaza Sing yesterday. A must-watch show this yr (not many good shows this yr though..harry potter, chick little kid flicks sux..heard one more chronicles of gnn coming out :( ).The pace was fast moving and the plot was brilliantly pieced together albeit a few minor flaws. I discovered that watching violent flicks is pretty similar to porn, the more u watch the more u wan to see. You get desensitized by the gore and blood on film. Plain tricks like tomato juice will no longer suffice for the hardcore viewers.

Overall, Saw II' s effects were rather convincing. However, certain scences were toned down (either our Edward Censorship Scissorshand was at work again or the producers wanted a lower rating to have a wider viewership). I particularly enjoyed the twisted/ dark humour that were evident throughout the show, peppered by wicked puns.

The movie opened with a scene of a man with a venus-flytrap like contraption filled with black nails over his head, ready to snap once the 30 minutes is up. He is supposed to look for the key, which has implanted just beneath his eye. Our mastermind utters in his video: ".. So listen carefully. The hint is this: It's right before your eyes. How much blood would you shed to stay alive, Michael? Live or die... Make your choice.
How ironic and yet how true. Isnt it sometimes in life when we are trapped in a shitty quagmire like this, we are forced to carry out desperate measures and actions in order to survive.

"Why is that we're only willing to do that, when a life is at stake? "

"You see, the knowledge of death... changes everything. If I were to tell you the exact date and time of your death... it would shatter everything. "

I give a 7.5 for this show. 2.5 more if it had nudity/sex :P

Sore.

The aftermath of yesterday was terrible.

I still have the dull ache in my balls and ass. All thanks to my adventurous counterparts who decided to detour from our normal route and head to Changi for a different experience...

It must have been the close and rough contact that did me in. And the lack of proper protection.
The one that I had was small frame but robust and lean. I can still vividly picture him rubbing up against me, harder and harder as we moved together. His body writhing and quivering below my sweaty body. My arms pushing him down as my legs pumped faster and faster. After a while, the lethargy and strain started to gnaw at my muscles but the thirst and drive was far greater. We had to make constant adjustments in our positions to minimise the pain and keep ourselves comfortable.

We made little hisses and gasps and moans as we approached crest after crest. We never stopped even when he got wet and stained my inner thigh as I rode him as rough as I could.
If only I was a girl, I probably would have developed a vaginus (vagina+anus) by now.
The consummation was a surge of ethereal earth shattering euphoria as we stopped and screamed at me as I panted over him.

I was totally burnt out after that. Red skin, sore butt, bloated stomach after a surfeit of coconut juice and a 54 km bike ride (East coast-Kallang-Changi-East) in my personal guinness record to keep-what an exhilirating way to spend a saturday with my uncle, brother and cousin.
Right now, I have to go look for a water bed to rest my sore bottom and abstain myself from any lower body movements in the next few days.

I'm so happy todayy!!!!!!!!!!!. I finally passed nmy driving test... i've never been so happy for like -none- in the past two yrs..
I noe for others its n easy feat for them but for me, its possibly the hardest test to pass :X
I rather retake 2 psles/ a levels than to retake another driving test.
YEAAAA ! &(^___ ^)(*_){_+
think its my most bimbotic post so far lol
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Groundhog Day

Its on rare days like this that i cant sleep on the bus because I'm thinking too much abt unnecessary stuff, wondering abt the future, reminiscing abt the past and fantasizing abt unrealistic ideas.

Sometimes I wished that there will be some device to capture these random fleeting thoughts and ideas, possibly designed like a thumb drive that can be inserted into the belly button to tap on these thoughts. Apart from serving as the receving end of the umbilical cord, it basically stays on as a defunct recess for accumulating dirt.

Speaking of orifices, which reminds me of this orifice advertisement. Its about an indian girl who lacked money to pay for birds and how our benevolent and moneyed Richard gere noticed her plight and paid for a flock of birds to take flight.

"i'm sorry. This is only enough for one bird." "Many birds bring good *uck".Apart from the miniscule sexual connotations and the pompous flaunting of wealth which reeks of white man superiority and dominance, I'm starting to get tired of watching such ads. The first time is awe. The Second time is interesting. Many times is simply annoying. The advertisors/advertising company probably dont understand the mental torment caused by the constant bombardment of the ad televised on TV mobile. Great. Now its playing again.

An Nsf's life is not much different, especially mine. Its like groundhog day everyday. Every morning, you wake up to the disgusting alarm clock sound of your handphone. Trying to shakeoff the grogginess from your somnolent zombie self. You proceed to dress up in the army uniform in a mechanical fashion. You begin to question yourself about individual existence. MaybeI m just another clone like Ewan McGregor seeking for the Island.You smile to yourself in the mirror and say in the most positive, convincing manner: fresh day for fresh shitwork.

Exit house. Walk past the auntie running past the bend. Its the same bend and same auntie.Everyday. Without fail. Walk past the old man walking his dog. Eh, thats euphemistically speaking.To put it crudely, its releasing his dog to shit/piss outside his residence.I look forwardto his daily shitty grin and the poodle getting out its poo. No wonder they say the pet usually takes after the owner.

After avoiding the puddles and mines, i'll reach the bus stop,where i wait for my 74 bus.Its amazing how the brain works to imprint the faces and idiosyncracies of each and everycommuter that board the 6 am bus. I wonder if they bother to register my face:-like a character in their ? life who comes on in clockwork precision.

You take the place as the omniscient observer on the bus. You know where the bespectacled office worker's favourite seat is, the stop where the middle-aged lady will alight, and of course, where your favourite HCJC girl's boarding and alighting points. The occurence of the latter is one of those few events that will register a blip in the otherwise horizontal, below baseline curve.
Your body suddenly becomes tense when she boards the bus. You become self conscious and concerned with even the most minute movements. You want to get a little attention yet you want to remain inconspicuous. How ironic. You do the weirdest things: pretending to gaze at the scenery outside (knowing that its pitch black), stealing a few furtive glances at the girl, peering from the reading medium strategically poised toact as concealment. Shes as deadly as Medusa, one glimpse at her, I'll be transfixed, mesmerized,stoned.

I'm not quite sure whether this is wad people call sick voyeuristic beahviour or craven infatuation but i suspect its a bit of both.

The heart sinks with disappointment as the girl alights from the bus. The sadness lingerseven as she has left. ok, time to concuss and look for the girl in my dreams,its a 50.50 chance.Wish me luck. Night. Before its another day tomorrow.

Made me mad.





He who sacrifices his conscience to ambition burns a picture to obtain the ashes.

Been playing this addictive game know as Harvest Moon for the past week. This is ten times better than Sims. Basically, you play the character as a farmer and you are supposed to eke out a living, gain the townfolks trust and increase popularity, prosper. Your aim is to make enough money to get a house, a big bed and get a girl to start a family. Its so wonderful because it incorporates farming-rearing animals, cultivating crops (high end and the inferior crops), fishing, mining and strategic planning.


Busy logging. No time for blogging.Check out my golden axe! -->

You can also sow seeds of discord among ur rivals to increase ur love meter with ur partners.

<=Thats me sleeping with hot chicks in the barn.

Country comfort! How i wish i could lead a carefree, uninhibited lifestyle like this in some remote, rural area far away from this place...

Been hearing people sing the cadbury ad song these 2weeks.
I dun really find it amusing. Rather, i m disturbed by the thought of the world being chocolate.

Wouldn't it be nice if the world was la la
Children will be smiling with faeces on the faces
Ride your butt across the toilet seater
Get it out and navigate the ooze.
And if a guy came up and tried to bite you
Shit could say "I'm chocolate I invite you"
Wouldn't it be nice!

Scary.

Tsk. tsk. This Star Wars have brought about companies to market their products as SW merchandise as an attempt to boost their sales.

Cheapo Toys can be found together with meals. I even saw a kid trying to propose to Chewbacca with an onion ring. M&m has also employed Vader& friends to grace their cover. The white rapper (Eminem) who probably wanted badly to be on the sweet wrapper, would never have guessed that he lost to a lightsaber.

I'm still waiting for local hawkers to come up with their Master Otah, coconut leaves with fish paste completed with lightsaber-inspired coloured toothpicks.

However, I'm unfazed by their products. I have been working to launch my ne plus ultra Star Wars utensil collectibles set. On the Light Side, we have the Jedi who burns with passion AH-NEh-Kin` (damn fast) Frywoker, who can send enemies 'frying' within minutes upon contact. Caution! May turn to the dark side if left unattended or neglected. Luke(warm) Frywoker, his less capable son, and the lovely Queen Spatula comes free with this set.

How can we forget the Dark Side? Dun worry.. I have managed to steal the best steal to forge the legendary Darth Ladle (containing 18% chrome and 10% nickel) which can easily stir up troubled waters when fuelled with rage. Along with it, I have also created the dark and dangerous Sieve Lords. Needless to say, they are renowned for their Force drain techniques to drain every single residue from your fluids. Muahaha..

I am starting to think that I have a mild tendency towards masochism. I like to pile myself with loads of work and kill myself in the office. I actually enjoy the flooding of the phone calls, with four phones ringing at the same time. I look forward to the inundation of the mailbox each day I step into the dusty, filth entrenched, musty smelling office. I love embracing all the poisoned coated arrows, which deals more venomous poison than the combined poisons of the dart frog, box jellyfish, Venomancer and Naix, which for some reason just seem to gravitate towards me. I cherish every sleepless night that I encounter when I close my eyes and count sheep but I just cant sleep because every damned sheep has my camp's warrant officers' face on it.

I am enthralled by my beloved commanders. No pun intended. I am so fascinated by the lexicon and vast amount of vocabulary that they possess. Every moment I spend with them, I feel so enriched and satiated. Bit by bit, I learnt complex, multifarious hybrid words like 'jurisprudiction' , 'enbus', 'deconflict' and 'uncontactable' by the hard way - pure rote learning and sheer memory work. It was no easy feat, I had to break my rigid mindset to force myself to imbue these 'wonderful' word gems into my brain and it took even more effort to convince myself that these people are more deserving of an A for General Paper than me. My very intelligent RSM have told me that these words are so esoteric that even Microsoft office and conventional dictionaries have difficulty grasping the profound meaning. Like what my RSM told me, "u dun stupid la, u never heard of 'outsourced' arh? Wah lan eh, still say u JC somemore? dont be trick by these little red waves, lubbish its just lousy programming!"
Bows humbly.

O how I respect the venerated RSM and Commanders! Just like Rock Lee And Gai Sensei in Naruto. U are my Gai!

Gai: "Lee!!"
Lee: "Sensei!!"
Gai: "Lee!!"
Lee: "Sensei!!" (hugs and sunset and beautiful waves)

Recently, I have been living my life quite aimlessly.

Coming back from work (i like to think of ns as work cos i makes me feel better) , playing some kiddy game called Maplestory. Its gameplay is pure simple. You jump around like Super Mario to kill cute creatures who poke your ass (your character will jump with an astonished expression when you walk into them, like they just sodomized/fucked you (depending on your sex)). They have a wide range of creatures and creative variations. Small mushrooms, Orange Mushrooms, Green top Mushrooms, Horny Mushrooms, Gray Mushrooms, Mushroom King. (the only colour that is missing is red because the similarity to part of the male anatomy is rather patent) Sure sounds like a brainless, asinine game. Sad to say, i have a soft spot for stupid games like this. And so do many grown up guys and girls.

Armed with their imaginary wands, sticks, online cliques, dicks clicking furiously at mushrooms, snails and monkeys. People rushing to collect whatever shit that drops on the floor and squabbling over the rightful claim to the offals of the creatures like some houseflies hovering over viscera and trimmings of a butchered animal.

After a week of cold maplestory treatment, i have managed to quit the addiction. Thankfully. Phew. I wouldnt wan my life to be controlled by a bunch of jumping mushrooms.

Just finished rolling two big plates of glutinous rice balls for tomorrow. Its a challenge trying to get all the balls of the same size. I wonder if human ones were created in the same fashion.. whoever the one rolling the balls might be..Must be tiring, trying to alter individual ones to make them all look the same.

Now, I am just waiting for my life to get busy..as the nigh draws near.. and the new beginning awaits..

Sigh.I dun noe why i am dreading this month so much.
maybe i am down wif end of the yr blues. i hate growing old. 19. wad a fcked up age.

I hate driving.
I hate myself even more.
I wan to destroy all the cars in the world.

I am tyoung wif my eyes close now necaise i am simplu to tired recently.
My facial muscles are so tired that it feels like a thousand kg ponderous weights are attached to make my muscles sag. I suspsect it resulted from smilnig too much of my sycphanyic smile of mine. I am so tired that i have stoped surfing pon for a record of four days. Tired from trying to read too much. cramping three books in two army days. cos i am owing the library cops. Tired of reading between lines. Tired of life. Tired of the expectations that pple plaece on u. Tired of societal pressure.
If all this is ka(a term for someones destiny, taken from Stephen King's Dark Tower series.)...

Then.
FUck ka.
Fuck cars.

I am awake now. Its amazing how vulgarities heightens one's mental acuity. One more shoddy post in my blog.yea.

It was one of the worst thursday in my life.
Thursday used to be good. Especially in the army. because they served Western in camp.
Until Singapore Idol finals came.

I watched wif much horror when i heard the swarmy grinning idiots name announced as the first singapore idol. My entire family was devastated. My father was silent as he mourned the death of an honourable title which shld have been conferred on the other worthy opponent. My mother was stricken wif hysteria and she was on the verge of breaking down, wif occasional shrieks of"why sly will lose?. WHy?" My bro was choleric, i witnessed whatever pathetic remnants of propogranda that had been injected to sustain racial harmony crumble right in front of me.
He blasted a quote-of-the-day remark with much ire, "******,****(its in dialect so it cannot be displayed pls download the latest win service language support patch for xp) I didnt watch so many episodes of Singapore idol just to watch a ***** win. More undisplayable words."

As for me, my family has already echoed my sentiments. All of them.

Geography textbooks have taught us that Singapore is only 625 sq km. Getting anywhere is not difficult with our efficient transport system. My big wonder is - with the excellent accessibility in our city, why are there still so many local undergraduates living in student hostels?

http://www.funkygrad.com/estyle/displayarticle.php?artID=396&subcat=mylife

hilarious article..but i cant guarantee the accuracy

Still going strong: After 50 years, on a day which could have been about savouring the past, MM Lee is still looking to the future and talking about how the PAP must continue to dominate the electoral landscape. CAption in todays paper.

--BREAK-----I STRESS the contents below bears completely NO relation to the article mentioned above. If u attempt to make a connection. its a chargeable offence. So DUN.

I never really doubt the theory of evolution.in fact, I used to think that orang lauts (these antediluvian sea faring folks of SEA south east asia which we study in social studies in primary school) originated from the orangutans. The illustrators of our textbooks depicted these early singaporean inhabitants as hairy,tomentose,shaggy like creatures. Its hard not to make connections, isnt it? Until today, i still subscribe to it.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Quote of the day:

He who laughs last,didnt catch the joke

Why do people do visit them? Some people do it so that they can perfect their skill and do it for their girlfriends/wives in the future(hey who doesn't like a 'skilled' guy) ..some people seek for their services to cure their boredom, there is also the copycats who do it out of pure curiosity.
For me, I did it after some serious deliberation ..they were thousands of reasons, some childish, some inane, why I did it but Ill rather keep that to myself. Lots of people have already done it at a younger age..and I guess I didn't want to be mocked by my competitive psyche within me.

I grabbed n stuffed the blue coloured bill before setting out. It had gone beyond my own interest but rather to just get it over and done with. I have to mentally condition myself before each trip. The experience is always this chafed feeling interfused with the dreadful anticipation. I pray to the skies every time before I leave house that I will come back unscathed and unsullied. The elusive image of moths flitting and escaping from a hellfire burning beneath keeps coming to me like a phantom of the mind...

I'm surprised I'm still alive...
A moth getting burned by the flame usually dies;
If not, it goes back for more, and it's back to the risk.
However, like a moth, I shall strive.
I am intrigued by the flame...
I'll get burned and go for more;But there's a hope
I'll fly through safely.No pain, no end to my ardor.
Help me this desolate fire is driving me insane

I have visited the place countless times. People standing in the alleys and some leaning on their cars. Bald uncles digging their noses in a grotesque fashion and eager girls clad in whorish/ semi decent dresses. The heat is unbearable and its not surprising to feel the sweat trickling down the loins.

The cash is exchanged and the session is soon over. Some people come out feeling satiated and satisfied, well spent. The nauseating sessions and surfeit has left me cloy after the initial awe and excitement of being able to toy with a real life specimen.

I am sure many Singaporeans know of this place. Of course there are other designated areas set aside by government to control the services but this place is the most convenient place for me to get my regular sessions.

In the place to be. Learning to drive at Ubi.

Happy3Friends

Just went downstairs for the condo resident committee meeting. I went down as an extra representative from my family. Only for the highlight of the event-the refreshments segment.

I gingerly selected two of each available on the buffet table to board my Noah's stomaark. Eating and walking around, pretending to look interested and concerned about the state of my residence while i was contemplating about wad game should i play later. meetings are really shitty stuff, they are boring, trite and useless. It just exists so that the secretaries have their minutes to write and to placate the souls of irate, garrulous aunties and always complaining uncles. I dunno. Maybe i am just a mugwump. Like unapathetic Huckleberry Finn who enjoys sitting on the fence.

Having filled my stomach,I took the lift up, wondering how uncouth a singaporean i was. Out of nowhere, a few cute kids dashed in with plates of food. One resembled the spotty or squeeky some-squirrel looking creature in Happytreefriends. They were laughing and talking about their mum's diabolical plan to transport the food from downstairs to their dining table.
They reached their floor and i made no attempt to press the lift door for them. If only the lift door closed on them..then i will be able to extricate their plates of food from their mangled bodies for my supper....

Twu Bi Twu Bi Twu Bi do...Twu Bi Twu Bi Twu Bi do..La la ala allal alalala ....

Zhang3Feng
i used to regard this venerated old man called zhang sanfeng with much reverence becos he managed to withstand temptation of hottie guo xiang in the chronicles of Jingyong COndor trilogy. On the other hand,I was never really impressed by his taichi skills. It was a whole lot of bull tt never made sense to me.

SLow CAN beat fast?

I dun believe.The moves are always executed slowly in an exaggerated and laggard fashion which makes people wonder if the moves are dilatory tactics to fool the opponent.

I have been proven wrong recently. The art of taichi has transcended beyond the martial skill. Its yi or the quintessence has become an important point of reference in our modern society just like how the suntzi art of war has been dissected and desecrated by corporate firms to teach people how to become shrewd moguls.

Taichi actually has this famous set of moves known as the 13 Kinetic Movements of Taichiquan.This 13 moves are further split into the 8 Men (Eight doors) and the 5 BU (five steps). Unknown to members of the public, some of the army personnel are actually crouching tigers:-extremely well versed taichi exponents who choose to lie low.

Heres a rough runthrough of the moves i have secretly acquired from their manuals and peeking through the door slits when they are in the meeting room. Difficulty-indicated by *

8 Moves
Peng (ward off) Once an arrow has been shot in the direction, move quickly to ward off the imminent danger or attack.*
Lu (Stroke) Stroke someones ass (the potential guy whos absorbing the damage) i.e sing praises abt his work efficiency **
JI (Push) With a half-jovial half-serious tone, push the responsibility/arrowto the unsuspecting victim **
An (Press) Finishing move, apply firm pressure and use your rank/power to complete the execution.***
Cai (to pull suddenly) In army lingo,they call it "pull stunt",eg performa highly dangerous move to escape the arrow. Extremely dangerous.****
Lie(Twist) Cock and bull story.Twist facts and fabricate the most convincingyo-grandmother-got-something-on and dog-eat-paper stories. Excuses. **
Zhou(Elbow strike) Yet to comprehend. CHEEM.
Kao(lean against) Use your connections as trump cards. Like saying "my commander ask me do this. you wan me to do this new thing for you better ask him first."

The last five moves are Advance, Retreat, Survey left, survey right and guard center. Basically, it describes how one should move ard to avoid attacks/ dodge arrows.This in short is the essence of the 13 Shi which should be useful for survival in the modern pugilistic world of today.

Today is 15/8 which is the Mid Autumn festival aka Mooncake aka Lantern festival. Today also happens to be the first day off that i have taken in the army. Today I just recovered miraculously from my disgusting flu, which nearly marred my day.

Musings
Read this article in the Straits Times today abt mooncakes. claiming that there are novel mooncakes with special flavours. like durian and yam. Yawn, so uninteresting. doubt they will smell or taste nice. I am still patiently waiting for mooncakes with curry paste and belachan to be launched.

Saw a teacher bringing a group of kids from the kindergarten near my house, Sunshine Kids, for an outing..in the park. It was early in the morning, the sun was blazing and it was extremely bright. And the most astonishing part was that the kids were holding battery operated lanterns!
The battery lanterns looked so fucking weak in the sun. I am very tempted to use the word dumb to describe the whole act but i would like to think that i am a very kind person.

I still prefer the old paper lanterns, those cheap china flowery patterned ones with the invisible "highly inflammable" imprinted on it . I remember the naughty kids who loved to bang into those little kids with feeble sticks and lanterns and watch sadistically as the kids weep pitifully while holding onto their charred-beyond recognition lanterns and cane.

Then there is always a group of other races pple (i dun like to mention names) who try to join in the fun by burning and lighting stuff. Burning grass and candles. How stupid can they get. Sometimes i think the haze we get is also the result of some people somewhere burning vegetation for fun too. Maybe somewhere up there, Chang-er is weeping for the stupidity of some of mankind.

Sometimes i wish that i am Legolas, then i can become a marksman and get my money and the lovely badge for range. Pretty busy these days. Trying to make myself busy too..dun noe for wad reason too. probably just trying to make my life more interesting and maximising my time that i have. A ship in harbour is safe but thats not what a ship is made for. Starting to appreciate quotes nowadays. Dunno what the fuck am i writing but i think this sort of shitty rambling is the result of little thought and little time. I fed a cat in camp.

Anyway jackie chan police story is coming out. I hope the show is nice as the catchy song he sang in the trailer. SOLID. Funky papa trying to look happening. Love his glasses. reminds me of those cheap glosssy ones sold in departmental stores. when i was young my mother will always ask if my bro and i want a pair of those. ahah. so cool.

Everyone is ashamed of something, if u are not, then u are not being honest wif urself.

Syphilis

I dun mind the increase in testosterone level. I dun mind hairy legs. Pimples is the dermatologic EVIL of puberty and it's a strident clamour from the body to announce to the entire world that one is pubertying. A terrible affliction, not only capable of the ruination of the rosy cheeks, but also undermining one's self/ body confidence. Its punition from the creators of the body- u get ur semen, for in return u have to absorb these pimples. Like ugly installments.

For some people, they are just PLAIN lucky to escape it: - free from the blemishes we all know and loathe. Some will get only a few benign ones on their faces. The rest will get the 'generous' load of whatever shit that the rest didn't claim. Unfortunately, I belonged to the last category.

In secondary school, I was doing fine. I escaped unscathed all the way until Sec 4. Then I became arrogant and started making fun of a classmate who had a spectacular geography of pimples on his face. The volcanic terrain with its island arcs, spewing spurts of pus and swelling. For my meanness, retribution ensured that I could appreciate the similar geography on my mirror.

My glandular machinery began to go totally bananas. Pimple city. Its impossible to escape. washing the face 5 times a week or taking dozens showers a week, trying every cream and nostrum known to modern science, didn't help much . A loaded pizza with rich toppings of blackheads. I probably could have been the mascot for pizza hut.. and do something like bursting a pimple and let the pus flow out with the oul, with jingles going " Stuffed Crust Pizza!!!"

Over time, much of it has receded, with some leaving pitty marks or potholes to mark its existence and also as a form of grim reminder to my foul mouth.

Thought of the day:
do monkeys have pubic hair?

Nightlife in Singapore is like throwing a party in a house with your parents.

how true. picked up a book from my sergeant major's table and finished it in one reading. titled Invisible Trade- it was a book by Gerrie Lim which offered to shed some light on the sex industry in Singapore, namely the high class escort girls, ktv hostess, the mamasans, the call boys and to the lower end of the spectrum the prostitutes.

Frankly speaking, to me ,there isnt much distinction between these classes. there is no point sounding so euphemistic or pretentious. sex is sex. an escort girl may engage in intelligent or witty conversation, talkign about haute couture, wine or culture but still end up having sex. They are cultured vultures that all, with their cut throat prices. a prostitute gets straight to the point. up on the bed. Ultimately, all boils down to a cold cash exchange of body fluids, devoid of emotions.

Did extract morsels of information here and there from the book. although most of it i already knew, in theory. I bet most singapore know abt the facts in there too.This is all theory shit. Only exploration will get me further.
I felt ashamed when i read the accounts of the escort girls who are specially procured to render their services to the rich and powerful and the horny men. All these take place behind the closed doors of expensive hotel suites like ritz and shangr. I never knew Singapore as a large transit point for sex. Schools didnt teach us that sex trade in Singapore has always been flourishing because of Singapore's ideal geographical position and the confluence of the international air flight routes.

How little i know of my country. sigh. I really should explore more. I'll make that my objective for this year. interested Fellow explorers feel free to drop a comment.

Miracles do happen. My leg got fixed. i dun believe it either.

After i got out of camp, I hobbled my way to the chinese physician/ 推拿 at amk. I waited for a long 1 and 1/2 hr. time passes exceptionally slow when one is in pain. I just stared stupidly at a couple who was also waiting for their turn to be fixed, occasionally reading the racy chinese papers and their articles abt china hookers.

I always have the feeling that i am visiting a brothel when i am at a clinic. Cos everyone appears so smug after they get out of the closed room. Patients look like they have gotten themselves a good fuck, feeling all so satisfied and contented.
My turn came.
the old man asked me to lie down on the 'operating bed'. just a random thought- why do the beds for massage have holes for our heads above our neck but none for the one below? He went on to knead my aching muscles like dough. It was shiokness. After pressing and probing my flesh, he told me to ren(endure) a little. Clack, clack. He twisted? my veins. into place
He did it with the ease of a five yr old kid fixing a detached limb of a ninja turtle figurine back into the joint. I stared at him with mild disbelief and uttered something like..uncle, 好舒服.. well he..must have thought i was gay.

Moments later, i exited , looking as if i just got out from red light district. The smug look all written on my face.

yesterday I woke up from a soupy state that wasnt really sleep but a kind of dream haunted drug daze. i needed to pee. i had to lift my legs of the bed. but the pain was terrible. my damn leg hadnt recovered. It felt like a crude ceramic block baked until it was on the verge of cracking. The pain was both hot and cold, set deep in the flesh like complexed networks of poisoned wires. Somehow i managed to slither out of my bed. and as i landed out the floor, i uttered a distracted little cry as the pain ripped through my entire left leg.

i need the pill. i had never, never in my life, needed a pill as badly as i did now.

i inched my way to the table where i kept the painkillers. every single movement was a great burst of agony. With one hand on the table, i managed to do an awkward push up to lift my upper body up, with my fucking left leg dangling like a limp broken dog limb. i tried to to open the medicine packet with my hands, fumbling as i looked for the opening. one pill rolled out. down to the floor. slowly i lowered myself,very slowly. afraid that i might trigger another of the excruciating motherfucking wave of pain.

i patted the ground to trace for the pill in the dark like a blind looking for his fallen coin. i found it. I lowered my face onto the floor like a dog about to drink from its bowl and stuck out my tongue. o man, dont let my parents see me doing this.
Pain, shame, horror, and most of all a dark depression, all maroons and grays, enfolded me. i pressed my tongue against the pill and drew it into my mouth, now not a dog but an anteater injesting a tasty morsel, and swallowed.

As the pill traced its tiny hard trail down the throat, i thought to myself: I would give anything to be free of this. anything.

I remember looking forward to get back home to blog an entry or two each time i returned from tekong. That was 3 mths ago. Now i return everyday. yet i dun feel like blogging. To me, its plain irony.

Perhaps the novelty of blogging is beginning to wear off. Perhaps i cant find any interesting stuff to blog about cos i am doing quite mundane stuff everyday. Doing clerical stuff, writing reports, supposed to take minutes, answering phone calls. Some people will regard it as prosaic business, but the scary part is I actually enjoy doing it.

U can call me an office dog. I dun really mind. At least i'm a happy dog. WOof WoOF!

Someone i know actually express disgust at my vocation. Cos he's an officer trainee. He thinks hes got the "ive got lots of leadership potential" tattooed on his ass and he think hes cool and big. F it. He probably got selected by fluke and he has zilch leadership skills to begin with. Aw. Anyway, he claims that he is not after the prestige, money but rather the experience. yea rite

Sneer.
Here's something more adventurous for u, my 'officer' fiend.
Go rub ur bullshit on ur head and fuck the cow's ass.

fucked up entry #1
feeling so shitty. dun even have the mood to blog.

Horoscope for the week.
Scorpio.
"The stars this week are crossed which means that certain plans might go awry. Do not add fuel to the fire by over-reacting. Trust that things happen for a reason."

Sometimes I hate horoscopes especially when they are accu-fucking-rately true at the wrong time. I just got posted to kranji depot when there is a paya lebar depot so near my house.

kranji means no forklift and all manual stacking. Kranji means little leave and no time for slacking. kranji means i can afford to screw up badly in camp, get charged and court martialled at kranji and they can whisk me off to kranji detention barracks to get fucked and sodomized by other inmates. Wad a lovely thought. Boy, i feel excited.

Things happen for a reason. Duh, wad doesnt. they always tell me unpalatable truths that I'm already aware of.

D Day
Tml will be judgement day. It wont be as important as results day. Its going to be more like a minor episode in my life.like terminator 2,judgement day. I have no idea which ammo depot/ magazine i'll be posted to. The locations do make a lot of difference.
$$ and time spent on travelling. I think i have been very lucky so far in army.Altho i dun really like the cliched phrase of 'all things good must come to an end', i do believe in it.

Devouring 14 books in 17 days has been quite a feat for me. Its my longest sustained record for such a period (the previous one was Peter and Jane series.i cant remember how many books). During these 3 & 1/2 weeks, I have had my fair share of code breaking with dan brown, fortune seeking with jeffrey archer, law sessions with john grisham, awry scientific experiments with michael crichton ,macabre tales with stephen king and romance with sandra brown etc.

Maybe its time to move on. maybe its time to stop mocking others ,who are in camp cursing and swearing that their sergeants keep nazi uniforms in their cupboards. maybe its time to wake up from my story-book fantasy. Welcome to the real world.

Maria Sharapova: 2004 Wimbledon Champion!

3rd July 2004
Maria did today what many thought was impossible. She won her first Grand Slam title at age 17, beating the two times defending champion Serena Williams 6-1 6-4. Maria was in control of the match from the very beginning, serving very well and pouncing powerful groundstrokes off both sides that kept Williams on heels most of the time.

Maria not only played at a great level, she also showed a remarkable self-control and maturity. She never left the situation overwhelm her and remained focuses throughout the match.

Maria's serve played a big part in this win. She was very consistent with both, the first and second serve, winning a lot of free points and not allowing Williams to punish her second serve as she normally does. Maria was hitting with a lot of power and close to the lines off the forehand and backhand side. She was fighting for every ball and her great reach allowed her to get a lot of balls back that frustrated Williams.

Maria showed nerves of steel when she was broken in the 6th game of the second set and she broke right back and never looked back. From 2-4 down she won four consecutive games to earn her first Grand Slam trophy.

At 17 years, two months, she is the second youngest Wimbledon champion in the open era, after Martina Hingis.

With this win, Maria will be # 8 when the WTA ranking is released on Monday.

This is the first tennis match that i actually followed. every serve every stroke. beautiful hot russian. how do they make themselves look so pretty when they play???

Watched spiderman 2. Plot Synopsis :Spiderman 2 is great movie about peter parker facing crises. With great powers come great virility. In this sequel,the viscid liquid supply in his body no longer functions well, resulting in spider impotence. My guess is that our Amazing spiderman didnt take enough zinc to supplement and compensate for the rapidly expended fluids.

I have been experiencing the same problem as spiderman..not referring to blanks,but ratherThe problem of a body part not functioning as it should normally. I pulled my leg vein (chinese translation) and it hurts. badly. I wince everytime i lift my fucking leg, everytime i take a fucking step, everytime i lie down on my bed. I dunno wad vein i pulled' but it must be a really long one, maybe even longer than the swing lines which spiderman uses to travel through the cavernous chasms between the Manhattan high-rises, because my entire back all the way down to my feet will experience a jolting spasm and an excruciating pain the moment i move my left leg.

To solve my problem, I visited a tui1 na1 master at ang mo kio for a session. I waited for a long time. When it was my turn. He pushed. He shoved. He bent. It felt good.. for a few seconds. After the therapy/massage, uncle asked me,'hai tong ma?' i nodded slightly, hesitantly because i didnt want to let the frail man know that his skill and dexterity was not as good as it used to be.. or perhaps i was afraid to come to terms with the fact that my vein maybe gone.

$15 gone to waste. Shld have gone for a full body thai massage or something. Can remove the stress from the aching muscles plus maybe they will throw in XXxtra stuff.
wont think abt it anymore.Life is never as easy as unbuttoning, wads done cannot be undone. (hope its original)

wrragh.a weak week indeed. looking forward to a nicer week

Itsby Bitsy Spider

..back to nursery rhymes!!

Peter parker ducked a dart of bitter butter
a dart of of bitter butter that bitter parker ducked
if bitter parker ducked a tart of bitter butter,
where the fuck is the dart of bitter butter peter parker ducked?

I'm sitting here, pressing the letters of the keyboard , idly , lazily . Comforted by the fact that I dun have to mug for any mid yr exams or be at some stupid island blaming my stars for being confined in camp.

I always knew I had a lazy streak in me, but it was never apparent during my schooling days. Yes, I indulge in slacking sessions once in a while. But the Layz monster in me ,which had been pretty dormant, has awoken recently and become so big that it scares me. I hold my bladder so that I dun have to make so many trips to the toilet even though the toilet door is just behind me. I dun feel like going down for an exercise because I am lazy to put my clothes into the washing machine. I am lazy to step out of the house because I have to put on my shoes.

People like me have to be ordered around. I am lazy to check and correct my shitty engrish grammar. "Laziness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle man will suffer hunger. The sluggard buries his hand in the dish, but will not even bring it back to his mouth." Proverbs 19:15,24 . And i am the sluggard.


Of all the laziness, my fav is the laziness of comfort orientation -which is just trying to stay comfortable and cozy. Every time I lay on my bed, I will stretch for the sheer pleasure of seeing hearing and feeling my pajamas(?) slide against my legs and my legs against the bedsheets. I like the feeling. Of being a sybarite.

In the East, laziness often manifests as flopping down in the sun with one's cronies, drinking tea, and letting the days pass by. In the West, laziness will be lying on a beach enjoying the languor of a siesta or ensconced in a sofa flipping the channels with the remote control.
For lazy asses like me, we know that whether we flop or rush, and wherever on the globe we happen to be, the comfort-orientation brand of laziness is characterized by a profound ignoring. We look for oblivion: a life that doesn't hurt, a refuge from difficulty or self-doubt or edginess. We want a break from being ourselves, a break from the life that happens to be ours. So through laziness we look for spaciousness and relief; but finding what we seek is like drinking salt water, because our thirst for comfort and ease is insatiable.

As there is a great truth wrapped up in
``diligence,'' what a lie, on the other hand, lurks
at the root of our present use of the word
``indolence''! This is from ``in'' and ``doleo,''
not to grieve; and indolence is thus a state in
which we have no grief or pain; so that the word, as
we now employ it, seems to affirm that indulgence in
sloth and ease is that which would constitute for us
the absence of all pain. --Trench.

Euro 2004 seemed to have downplayed all the other sports, including the major events like the NBA finals. Zombies shuffling their feet around after staying up almost every night, from the sergeants to the sweepers on the road. But as usual, I dun really care about soccer. Its more interesting to watch how sports have evolved. "playing soccer" doesn't hold the same connotations as taking up a sport to keep themselves fit. It just implies taking time off from the pastures of turf city and turning the attentions and money to the fields.
The only sport that I keep track of is the Nba games. Its fast. Its entertaining. Its cool.During the finals, the team that wasn't supposed to win won.
The triumph of the underdogs. Detroits crushed lakers. It seemed like Norma Rae, Seabiscuit and that slingshot-wielding dude, David, rolled into one.
Hey, the script writes itself.
If Detroit is the unofficial underdog capital of the country, then America is Underdog Nation, in self-image if not reality. It's what pop culture has taught us.
It's the little guy who always triumphs in the end. A spunky Nemo plans a daring fish tank escape with a little fin and a big heart. The Pistons defeat the Lakers?It fits the model.
The underdog is an extremely powerful myth in our society. It's a thrill to see people who are under adversity beat the people who are supposed to defeat them.
If you can survive the slings and arrows that life throws at you, you can become stronger and more successful than you ever imagined. It's the kids who are lobbing dodge ball missiles who'll one day get their comeuppance.
Underdogs find strength in their weaknesses and know things a top dog never could.
No. 1: Low expectations can be a good thing.
No. 2: Underdogs are always hungry.

Pangolin Tsai

Another rare sighting at the school of ammunition down at rifle range road, which is contiguous with the bukit timah nature reserve.
No,I didn't spot fucking gay monkeys. Although I did see a a monkey orgy, bunch of monkeys wreaking havoc on a sergeant major's car, I have seen enough of monkey-wreak-havoc movies and done enough primary school compositions, rewriting the hackneyed plots of monkey pulled pigtails of girls in classroom to find monkey rampage and pillage commonplace.

Was taking a stroll uphill when I spotted a pangolin. For those who dun know what a pangolin is :- it's an ant eating mammal with large imbricated horny scales as its protection. Dun ask me how to tell the difference of a pangolin from an armadillo. I only hold a young zoologist badge and I cant recall how long ago was my last visit to the zoo which does not house a pangolin.

Anyway I was surprised. 'Wads the creature doing here?' It seemed lost. Maybe he lost his way while trying to register at the armour camp. I couldn't figure out the location of its eyes ,everything looked brown. I closed my eyes and flinched when I pictured the pain of the coitus of its species. Perhaps only hedgehogs will understand the ordeal.

It was curled up in a ball and resembled a pile of dung from far. Even the spruce cone appearance resembled the fissures of excreta. The pangolin was motionless. A few of us went forward to take a closer look. Its eyes were closed. And it had just defecated. The shit laid closed to its anus like a newborn pangolin baby. Was it dead? Or was this crepuscular creature taking a rest before commencing its nocturnal guard duty?

I was lost in my vacuous thoughts as everyone started jogging back for lunch. I quickened my steps, glanced at my watch, mentally counting down the hours before book out, happily singing the linkin park song to myself...

It starts with-

One thing I don t know why, it doesn't even matter how hard you try...
All I know,
Time is a valuable thing watch the clock go by as the pangolin swings,
watch it count down to the end of the day...

A touch of zen.
I reported to the school of ammunition today. To find myself sitting..and sitting.
I sat to wait for lunch. After lunch, I sat to regulate the flow of the food down my digestive tract. I sat. I have never sat so long in my entire life. Its even more enervating than the SAT test that I sat.
Buddha remained under the tree for forty-nine days, neither eating nor drinking. I sat under the training shed, with my legs akimbo and stared at the dense undergrowth in front of me. Monkeys scaled the fences with ease and walked the barbed wire with such funambulism. Then the monkey king appeared. Then the monkey queen appeared. Then they started screwing. My jaws dropped. I was shocked by the spontaneity and the audacity of the monkeys. Buddha meditated and gained enlightment.
Some zen from me. Monkeys copulated and i gained entertainment.

Fat, tender crustaceans lay in their shells on a bed of fluffy egg-fried rice, smothered in a sauce that was at once refreshing, delicate and tasty; flavoured with lemon, chilli and crisp veggies that actually looked like they had until very recently been growing somewhere. You start to salivate. 'Where should I start from?' You notice a prawn hiding beneath a small lump of rice. You use your fork to tease the prawn out of its hermitage. You take a morsel of the prawn. You pause to admire the body of the decapitated prawn. On inspection, you spot a thick brown disgusting line on the back of the prawn. Out of curiosity, you ask your friends/family about the mysterious line.

'Anybody has any idea wad this shit is?'
Someone answers 'Prawn shit la'
Another replies, 'Vein la. Nothing one. Just eat, wont die'

You oscillate the limp prawn on the spoon as you vacillate over the fate of the prawn. With much dubiety and timidity, you shove the prawn aside and cover it with the uneaten parsley, trying your best to make it look as natural and untouched.

I have been plagued by this question about prawn shit or vein for a long time. As long as philosophers have been metagrobolized by the egg and chicken conundrum. I decided to end it all. Here's what I found from a cookbook.
"The easiest way is not to worry about it. In general, small and medium shrimp do not need de-veining except for cosmetic purposes. In larger shrimp, sometimes the intestinal vein contains grit; then you should prefer to remove it"

In short, it is neither the shit or main vein. Its their shit vein.

Save me from The avalanche of cliches
Watched a movie with my friends on Monday. It was the first movie I was going to watch in a cinema after..ten weeks. The screen at tampines mall only indicated two shows. Harry potter and the prisoner of atlikazamofqzban and the day after tomorrow. We settled for the lesser of the two evils. I was genuinely enthused by the title of the movie. Because its one of those awfully creative titled films that will bound to trigger off washedout,jejune,stupid jokes like :

"Eh wan to watch the day after tomorrow the day after tomorrow? "

Ok,I;ve digressed. In The Day After Tomorrow, global warming is causing the polar caps to melt, ocean currents to spin, temperatures to drop, and a band of stalwart actors to deliver the corniest sort of disaster movie dialogue. "Unpack the snowshoes! We're walking from here!"

You get the drift.

However,the pictures were good. They were like those ripped from national geographic remixed with those "Caught on Camera" disaster flicks. Unfortunately, there is a story, an assortment of characters and a batch of contrived relationship crises whose dramatic transparency punctures the visual splendor like nudity with squares.

Before watching the film, I only knew that tornadoes had eyes. I was wrong. They have brains too. The smart tornadoes that hit Los Angeles know to zero in on the city's most famous landmarks. All would be forgiven if The Day After Tomorrow were the fun kind, and for a while, it was. Then it became the dull kind of bad. After the storm passed and the freeze hit, the film was only half over and already out of tricks. It was the first time I walked out of a cinema, dreading that I had paid for it. Because it only left me thinking about the day after tomorrow the day after tomorrow the day after tomorrow...and I will be in army once more.

Maybe.

Attempted to entertain myself with the crowd at the Passing out parade yesterday, perusing row by row, detail by detail. Much to my disappointment, i didn't find any spectacular spectators. Maybe it was the spectacles. Maybe I was a little tired. Hmm. I thought the reviewing officer-tampines Mp, Ms Irene Ng was outstanding. A genteel lady and thoroughly elegant in her manner. At least, she kept my eyes transfixed on her for about ten minutes. Still miss..what a pity.

The cue for the caps to be thrown came. Our caps went up. A fleeting moment of joy..my smile vanished as I saw my cap completing its projectile motion much faster than the others. Maybe I was standing too near the centre of the earth and the gravity was too fucking strong and resulted in the premature ejaculation of my cap. Grr.

Finally I'm out from tekong officially (well I have to return to take my soc test). I'll touch a lil on my bmt experience cos that's wad people like to blog after they have passed out. I'm still experiencing this feeling of a big fuck when I walk around. There is this air in my head that has yet to be deflated. I have to constantly jerk myself ..back to reality. As a private, I still have to salute to the old man with the white hair and white suit and his stick outside KFC.

Army has taught me to be grateful and thankful. Things that I have obliterated and taken for granted as a civilian ,even trivial ones like walking my own way. And not having to be in tandem with people.

Racking my brains to think of something to write/ Listening to avril lavigne's album Under my skin/ Flicking hardened pieces of camouflage cream and dirt and grit out from my fingernails to observe what's under my nail.

Observing the callus on my palms and ruminating about how callous i have become. I cannot help but agree that men are immensely selfish and egocentric creatures,which is so evident when everyone is shagged. I parallel N S life to ants' nests life, in which there's a fat-assed queen ant and there'll be millions of drones to stroke her ass. OOoh. Everyone's so eager to kiss ass.

I never felt like a gungho soldier ant or a bootlicking sycoph- ant. I remember in primary school, i often looked at the science textbook with disgust cos i have this tendency to empathise with insects rather than humans. There's this horrific experiment in which the woodlice are tested to see their response to light.

When the light is off, we faineants immense ourselves merry making in the caliginous moment. When the light is on, we scurry in pandemonium and appear to 'work' fast. I've chosen to be a men. I hope i dun live to regret it. I dun noe wad the future holds for me. But One thing is for sure - The lousy life of a lowly louse is there to stay.

Karma Mama.
During my primary school days, I enjoyed poking and touching those touch-me-nots mimosa plants. Witnessing the closing of their leaves brings satisfaction to me like how the hardening of nipples does to satyric men.

In NS, I learnt how to prone which involves the acts of placing one hand down and lying down almost immediately when the command is given.
That one time..in field camp. "Enemy contacted!" My hands went down. Felt a sharp pain sticking into my fingers. I bent my head down and saw my childhood playmates once again. Bloody thorns and my bloody fingers.

The revenge of the mimosas. They were waving their pink fluffy balls with sadistic glee while I was grimacing. "That's for molesting us, you sick bastard." I shuddered at the karmic power of Mother Nature. Karma Mama.

Today.
I backtracked thrice today just to feast my eyes on some girls.
I used the mrt glass doors to observe girls more than 6 times today
I fast marched all the way just to stalk two rj girls.

I am a horny bastard.

Fact that i have only discovered recently - When a woman consumes about 3-5 alcoholic drinks her 'horniness' level skyrockets to about 5 times the normal level and may start showing obvious signs of it, the funny part is that when their 'horniness' level skyrockets after drinking, it reaches a man's 'horniness' level of everyday life which we have to learn to control.

The day is Sunday. . You are being held hostage by several enemy sergeants in a military stronghold.
Misson: to make your blog entry.1 min to plan, 2 min to execute.
0530 still in camp while the entire school was m ing in the comforts of their home.
1000 book out.
1100 finally out.
1300 went to fix my screws on my fucking aching back.
2000 book in

minus eating,shitting and settling my other corporeal needs, writing damned peer and sergeants appraisals, i am left with just 2 minutes to finish this task. And i have just realised i have taken 5 mins.

Time exceeded. You are detected by enemy troops. Bang. Cut. Over.

Feasting

My gorging has become indiscriminate, ever since I entered army. Every trip back in and out from the place raises my rapacity. There is this craving to fill myself up. i dunno how to express it aptly but i surmise its like the feeling when u wan something to be shoved up the anal walls.

Went to Seoul garden with my close buddies today. Outside food has became extremely delectable. We circled the belts of restaurants like drooling bald vultures for several rounds before swooping down to seoul garden for our meal. In the evening, I went to china teahouse with my family for an a la carte gorging session. Had several opulent courses ranging from stacks of tim sums to the commonplace shark fins, abalone and friends and finished off, 3 different kinds of desserts. Prodigious!

The massive fishes my family ordered, much to the consternation of the staff, were clearly intended to feed more than our numbers. Fortunately, it was so unconscionably tasty that we picked its leviathan carcass clean of flesh using only chopsticks and an uninterrupted supply of clean plates. Having worked in the f n b industry for a while and being deprived of good food for a longer while, I was overwhelmed with gratitude as I savoured every dish. I knew the shitty feeling of standing beside the customer, acting obsequious, smiling pretentiously and the servile task of clearing the dishes. Maybe I'm a pisspoor employee that's why I worked at Edo ha.

Back at home I would be served epicurean dinners of many assorted dishes and snacks and fruits. My house's refrigerator is like a magician's closet. I can never finish the things in it. My mum will say "Winston, there's ice-cream inside!" "There's yoghurt in the lower compartment" Of course, this cornucopia doesn't come without its risks: My stomach will then begin to bulge. I spent one excruciating day trying to convince my innards not to give in but they refuse to budge. Everything looks so good, tastes so great that it's hard to resist gorging myself, health n figure be damned.