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Feb 29.

Oh. Wow. Leap day.
And today's training was rather weird. Actually I have nothing to blog about.
Except that I had a bit of mood swings and all.
So this is just a depressing filler for you lifeless creeps who bother reading my blog.
Till tomorrow then.

And I edited my previous post several times. I don't know why did I do that, but I think there's a need for transparency here(and to make the filler more exciting). I seriously think that if anything I post here is detrimental to my inter-personal relationships, I'd just delete it. I don't want my friends to drift away from me because I posted about them, or about things similar to what they went/are going through. I just don't want html and encodings to get in my way of having lasting friendships and all. Something virtual for something real? I'd pick the real thing.

Just joking. I don't have any friends. Read 'friends' as 'people whom I know'.

I think I'd post a picture of the alleged J I leader. I forgot his name, I think NKS would post it on my tagboard soon? Hints hints to him.
Time to sleep le. I need it. A lot of it. I need to be in school at 8.

-- 2/29/2008 11:58:00 PM

Terrorism in Singapore.

I really can't discern much between faces which aren't Chinese. It's weird innit? I mean, you can think that all Chinese people look different, but when you're asked to identify a certain black person, you grow stupid.
So is there much of a point in putting up the picture of the escaped JI leader? I don't have a picture of him to show you, but I think my English should be enough to wow you over into thinking that I'm actually just a genius when I'm godlike.
Man, I'm so fucking intelligent.
Anyway, the link to the alleged terrorist is here.
Enjoy.
And I didn't manage to read the newspapers in peace. I was filled with anger and frustration over why my henchman did not attack the schools in Bukit Timah. It'd be fun if the entire Sec4 level of SCGS gets wiped out, and we'd have a higher chance to advance towards the better end of the 'bell-shaped curve'.
Of course, Jian Zhong would cry and all, but it's all for the greater good innit?
I wouldn't mind if _______(fill in asinine symbol of any random school in Bukit Timah) get's attacked. I mean, I don't have friends in schools in that region, and I hate the whole lot of them for being in schools within that region. I don't like that place, and people living in that place should be killed.
Oh wait, that was mean: I don't have any friends.

And we randomly taupok-ed people in class. It's damn fucking random. Seriously. It's randomness in its saturated form.
There are videos taken, pictures snapped, groins crushed, metal buttons torn, bruises here and there...I love 4-7.
We have 5minute breaks in-between each period (no, not the 28days/1oscillation/1hertz/...what else?), and we sorta filled them up with taupoks at random intervals.
And the paper airplane folding and throwing is getting more and more popular. Or at least the throwing. I fold, they throw =.=
And the game is to get it stuck on the revolving fan. It'd slow down the fan, and...yea it's gonna be loadsa fun. But it won't be funny if you get caught by your form teacher, who already knows that you're a lazy bum.
I was called that, and it's quite hard not to blush. I mean, it's rather much of a reflex that my blood vessels in my face dilates and goes closer to the skin, right? It's not my fault that my face turned 'as red as a beetroot'.
I seriously think my mother badmouthed me when Mrs Yap called. I have a feeling that the 'He's bright, but he's damn lazy' came from my mother. Except that it was an understatement: I'm extremely intelligent, but extremely lazy.
Even the phrase 'extremely intelligent' falls short on describing my brain powers, but it's damn hard to describe and there's no point since you people would die upon feeling my radioactive brain cells.
Back to the point.
I seriously think my mother complained to Mrs. Yap about my laziness. Rawr.

And we have to set up revision timetables for the March holidays, and we have to get to class at 6.45AM to start studying for one hour, we have to do a lot of shit.
Sian. I hate timetables. Makes me feel like I'm in some army camp.

And this is to you, Nik, if you read this. I don't know what got to you today, but whatever it is, don't cave in to stress. I'm sure the school counsellors would do a much better job cheering you up and teaching you how to relieve your stress, and that I'm not exactly damn close to you, but I hope you don't crack up.
Many people care. I mean, just look around the people in our class with blogs. Like a lot of them care lah. Don't die thinking that no one cares. Better still, don't die.

UPDATE: I deleted certain stuff here. I don't know, but I won't regret any decisions made. After all, this is my own fucking blog and I choose what to be posted and what not to. I chose to take down certain stuff to save a friendship. I don't want posts made here sour my friendships with anyone. If any of my friends feel hurt over certain stuff I blogged about, feel free to tell me. It's no big deal. Sometimes I need a bit of tapping, and my senses would come back in place.

But still.

If I'm a clown, or your marionette, or puppet, there's still a need to pay.
And I come cheap.

-- 2/28/2008 09:54:00 PM

Motivational speech by Mr. Lee.

So I had a great sleep in the morning. It's rare to sleep for the full one hour of wait for the morning assembly to start. I'm rarely this sleepy. It says a lot. I didn't sleep much this morning after all, turning in at 2AM isn't exactly healthy.
Yea. So much for sleeping. I hardly get wet dreams anyway, seeing that I...never mind. Suffice it to say that I engage myself in so many physical and mental activities that drains me of all energy for further thought of sex. I lead a perfectly healthy life, free from sex and all.
And wet dreams is a form of mental ejaculation. Or at least that's what I'd define it as.

Oh and my class is situated at special room 4B, and as the name suggests, it's at the fourth floor. Which means that we're on the same floor as the Sec Ones. While they made their way to assembly, I went over to the toilet to release my metabolic waste products into the urinal. And I heard the girly voices of the Sec Ones, and was turned on greatly. I haven't heard voices so clear and high-pitched within the walls of Cat High toilets. Trust me, their voices are higher than yours. And they were arguing over girly stuff too. The conversation went something like this:
Boy1: Wahlau you said it's damn hard then you get 89 for English!
Boy2: Aiyo...
Alastair: Let's sex.
And I exclaimed my wish to penetrate them quite loudly, and kept hitting my friends and repeating the urge that somehow surfaced within me so violently. It's scary, really.
OK I didn't actually stand, but it's really refreshing to hear those sweet clear voices of prepubescent boys.
Then we went down to the auditorium to hear a motivational speech by Mr. Lee. Seriously, I thought he was a rather weird person when he came over to my primary school to give a talk on which school to choose. That speech was rather boring. But this was more action-packed. I think if there's a roof to house the powers of speeches, he'd be the supernatural force that breaks through it.
I love him so much, I actually blushed. I mean to say, I laughed till I blushed. Yea.

If only I recorded the whole speech. It's be rather much of a help to my studies and all. Not that I'm doing research or anything of that nature, mind you.
Let's talk about David and the Goliath:
Let's say there are two types of David. The first one faces the huge Goliath, thinks 'Whoa, so huge, how to fight?!' before zao-ing. That is the kind of David that will fail.
The second type of David is the one that faces the huge Goliath, thinks 'Whoa, so huge, HOW TO MISS?' Then zam, there goes the Goliath. Typing this all down isn't doing Mr. Lee any justice, because he was speaking in such an agitated and animated way.
And another part of his speech reflects his optimism: If you think you're at the bottom, never mind! You can only improve, so do it!
OK actually I forgot the actual words, but it was something along those lines.
And in reference to his 'new idea' of installing air-conditioners for all the Sec Fours, and the ailing status of Cat High's financial difficulties, he 'JUST DO IT'-ed it. Seriously, he doesn't care. His belief in God is so staunch that he'd just jump into the situation, and pray that God will provide. Even though we're still needing money for the indoor sports hall, he simply jumped into the iFea of air-conditioning the whole Sec Fours. Such is his complete devotion to the school.
Perhaps when we're given the electricity bill to foot for when it really happens, I'd regret posting this but I don't really care; I love him now. I think if he gave out the donation cards after the speech, I'd really donate money to the school.
I'm serious.
Oh and he picked out Jian Zhong during his speech. A lot of talk about goal-setting and all. And he listed a hypothetical situation in which Jian Zhong falls in love with an SCGS girl, and finds out that the said girl wants to go HCJC, and so he changes completely in a vain attempt to try getting into HCJC with her, all the while not knowing what HCJC turns girls into.
Stupid. But JUST DO IT! so never mind.
Seriously, Mr. Lee can become some spokesperson for Nike. Just do it.

Oh and had remedial at 4-4. Redo-ing of a composition by Mr. LDW. I thought I'd hate the whole thing, but besides finding it a slight waste of time, it's quite OK, really.
But he has mood swings, and it's scary for teachers to have mood swings. I really don't know how to deal with such people.

PTM tomorrow. Damn sian. Have to waste time till 7.30PM or something.

Never mind. Time to switch off the computer and watch TV.

Edited post: I mixed up Goliath and lion. =.= thanks KAISHANK. And reading through the own shit I wrote makes me feel weird. I think I can spot several grammar mistakes here and there. Thanks, but you need not inform me. I know.

-- 2/27/2008 08:34:00 PM

L1R5 of 33.

Now let me boast about how high I got for my L1R5. I got 33. Woohoo! I can't even go JC =.= anyway I'm not really bothered about that. Since when was I very much bothered about such boring and inconsequential stuff? Instead, I think I made several discoveries today which are definitely much substantial to my well-being than that of my L1R5.
I learnt that I can't think properly if I haven't sang the national anthem, said the pledge and school vision, blah blah.
And who can forget the poignant prayers? They have a spiritual impact on me, and I feel much more awake after it.
Just joking. I'm not a religious person.
But seriously, we were having our Tuesday math remedial shit at 7AM. I sorta just slept through it. I can't think or even stay awake in the wee hours of the morning, yo.
But I felt much better after the national anthem and all. It refreshed me so much, but the period ended and I went back up to class to sleep through physics.
Healthy lifestyle indeed. Even had to tell the physics teacher that we weren't physics students and just want to stay behind to sleep.
A lot.
Anyway we started on reproduction in plants. I never knew that Ms. Saras is so suggestive in her presentation of the powerpoint slides. If I were to quote her I'm sure you people would be rawring in laughter.
The starting was funny enough.
'Now we're going to touch on this boring topic of plants having sex.'
And with suggestive names for plants such as 'Clitoria', I seriously have problems imagining a bright, yellow-less, unsuggestive lesson with our ever-interesting Ms. Saras. She can come up with weird ways of bringing her point across that bees help in the pollination of flowers by 'forcing its way up through the channel'. I think the point that it 'squiggled' came in at some point in time, but I can't recall already. I have a very leaky memory.
Even worse if it's crap. I can't remember crap well. What's your name again?

And Mr. Pong Chong Xin somehow managed to make me laugh out loud. I can't remember what exactly was I saying, but I was referring to my ramrod as 'Eiffel Tower', and he replied with 'Even the WTC crashed.' I can't remember what's so funny on hindsight, but I think it had something to do with the biological meltdown of my..thing.
Screw it. I can't leave it lying in France, it'd get bombed soon enough.
Oh wait..
My friends know who I am. It's rather much of an insider's joke, and I can be assured that people won't attack me lightning rod.

And now I'm logged onto MSN web messenger, the shitty substitute for MSN messenger itself. I seriously don't know what happened, but I somehow can't log in. Never mind. Not that I need MSN LIVE to breathe. Even if it's oxygen, I can respire anaerobically.
Yea right.

And I heard the prophecy that the Earth would be destroyed in year 2012. It's a scary thought, really, knowing that you're going to die, 4years from now. I didn't check it up, but the same people/tribe/prophets also predicted the 911 incident and all.
This begs the question: if you're left with 4years to live, how do you intend to spend these four years?
Is there any point in studying anymore? After all, if I chiong and become some 2pointer shit, I'd still die after NS. I won't even make it to university. So why bother with studying so hard in the first place? Why not just relax, enjoy life as it is?
And I'd really die with a lot of regrets if the end of the world comes in 4years. I mean, I've yet to enjoy full sexual intercourse, I haven't really had a girlfriend, I've yet to save any friends of mine from suicide or self-mutilation, I've yet to be constructive to the society.
Oh wait, let's think of things in a nihilistic point of view. You people do not exist at all. You are just programs and softwares reading my blog. I am the only person alive in my world, and you people are just either 1) a figment of my imagination, or 2) softwares and programs as shown in The Matrix.
So the year 2012 would be the year when I get out of this program, and enter the 'real world'. I don't know, but this school of thought can go on and on and on. I can even start a new religion that states that when you die, you wake up from your dream. And after you die when you woke up from this dream, you wake up from another dream. And so on. You dig?
Oh wait..let's just say that you people are really just pixels created by someone of a higher power and all. Is it then, a sin to rape pixels? Or kill them when they piss me off? After all, when I die, I'd just wake up from this dream and go on to another dream. Geez, this train of thought is leading to terrorism.
But seriously. Do you exist? Are you a living human, and not just some random codes of crap created by some crappy person who wants to treat me like some test subject for some diabolically unknown reasons?
If that's the case, FUCK YOU.
Rawr.

And I think I'm depressed. After all, it says a lot when you can't get horny. And have some weird constricted feeling in the chest. I guess I'm simply living up to my name 'Moody'. And moody people can't get erect.

-- 2/26/2008 08:32:00 PM

Homosexual conversations.

So I was sent a conversation between two lesbians. I'm serious. It was quite scary. Maybe it's just me, but I nearly hyperventilated. I guess I'm too conservative in this kind of social issues. I seriously couldn't believe that I was gazing into evidence of lesbianism. And no, I won't show it to you. It's quite personal, really.
So I was stoning around, being myself and all and listening to random songs in my handphone when I realized that most emotional songs that female artistes sings are about how they try to recover and not cry from a break-up. Pussy-whipped.
Then emotional songs from male artistes would be about how they struggle on, look from afar, try to 'protect' the girl from whatever position they are in and blah blah. Seriously, we already know that men are man; we don't need further illustration. After all, you're reading words typed by some guy who most probably have more leg hair than your head. Screw you.
Anyway, I decided that a lot of songs being broad casted are stupid. What with Farenheit's shit pie of songs and 5566's what's-that-stupid-song-again? fucked up pieces of shit, thatched together with nothing but shit. Seriously, sometimes I wish that radio wasn't invented. It's noise pollution, and I'd rather watch gay porn or something than listen to shit that spoils my ears.
If they have any sense of shame they'd hang themselves already. Or at least they'd give up on their ostrich method of avoiding a problem--burying the head in the sand. I hope they pry their heads from the sand and realize that no one would buy their CDs if not for their looks. Their singing sucks, their songs suck, the entire shit burger is just a piece of crap. Heck, I think their songs would sound nicer if the CD was spoilt.
I can't emphasize how much I hate the teenage girls who go gaga over how handsome they are and how they plan to starve themselves just to scrape enough money to buy the renewed edition of the same fucking album.
Geez. I really hate these people. They are selling their looks. I can respect gigolos more than them. At least gigolos don't go around showing their faces and advertising the flesh trade they specialize in with posters in bookstores and all. Gigolos don't shamelessly strut their stuff and hold autograph sessions for those money-wasting teenage girls. Gigolos don't have their voices broad casted every hour on radio. Gigolos don't find their ways into newspapers(unless it's an exceptionally gay piece, in which I'd respect them even more for having satisfied my desire and getting their ass ripped open due to my huge penis).
I respect their occupation. At least they're selling their looks without much packaging. Unlike those boybands and all, packaging themselves such that they look like they're singing songs, but are just 'looking like' it, and selling their looks instead.
One more thing to note: gigolos are more value for money. I mean, one hour, $20. Or maybe even less, if they enjoy it. That's if you have as huge a member as mine, which is impossible unless you have a size that parallels the Eiffel Tower. Perhaps the gigolo would pay you for your services instead, but this is a total digression. Shit. I just revealed my size. That's why I'm so insecure about my dick size. Is it normal to have the Eiffel Tower for a penis? I hope so..
Anyway, I think I'm done with the bashing of those gay pieces of shits.

Which reminds me. How many times have I used the word 'shit' in the above? Shit. I somehow feel damn vulgar. I mean, people normally use words like 'My foot lah!', but somehow I managed to change it to 'My shit!'. I feel very disgusted by myself. I have the weirdest of temptations to hang myself.

Anyway today was crap. I was sleep deprived. And no, I don't have to know that you slept at 2AM but turned up in school at 6.30AM anyway. I don't have to know, yo. But seriously, I somehow need a lot of sleep one. I guess I'm still growing. And I couldn't get myself to sleep until around 1. Which was quite weird since I'd been stoning in bed since 11.30?
Fuck?
So I ended up sleeping on the bus home, and drooled all over the place. And the bus driver had to go behind to wake me up when the bus reached the interchange.
I've never felt my face burn that strongly before.
As I made my exit, I muttered something like 'Sorry', and I heard the few people having their own conversation 'Whoa why he so tired? Sec what?' or something along those lines.
If there's a hole in the ground I'd have disappeared into it. OK that only explains the law of gravity, sorry.
Never mind. Anyway I hope to be able to sleep well.
Pray for me, please.

My shit.

Oh by the way, here's the GKY friendster. I hardly laugh so much. But I won't bother making the html shit for this, because if you're really that interested in seeing what could amuse me so much, you'd take the initiative and copy paste it into your browser.
http://profiles.friendster.com/32452337

-- 2/25/2008 08:25:00 PM

No, seriously. I PMS.

For the people who don't know any girls, or at least any human beings full of estrogen, I envy your ignorance. But then again you'd most probably meet them some other day and make friends, or love, or anything of that matter. So, let's touch on the topic of PMS. It's just an abbreviation of Premenstrual syndrome. It basically justifies the need for the said girl suffering from it to jump down your throat every now and then. And if you refuse to comply, or show the slightest hint of frustration, she'd blog about how much of an asshole you are. Or jerk for that matter. Seriously, it's not good. You can never mess with a girl. After all, there's a Chinese saying that goes '最毒妇人心‘, which means that the person with the most vicious of hearts would undoubtedly be a woman.
Never piss a girl off. You'd be biting off more than you can chew, and you'd be overwhelmed by the number of blog posts she creates with your name included, give or take a few prefix or suffix like 'bastard', 'asshole', 'fucker', 'impotent', blah blah. Seriously, I'm not much of a woman though I'm a hermaphrodite. I can only be grateful for the fact that I have more testosterone than estrogen. I'm glad.
I don't know why, but guys normally put in the sentence, or vow that they'd 'be there for you anytime, anywhere'. By 'you', I mean the girlfriend in question. Seriously, it's getting a bit too cliche. Or however you spell it, with the angle sign on top of the e. I can't be bothered to check it up. Anyway, after that statement, you've suckcessfully sold your soul to the devil. Be prepared for the onslaught of trying to SMS your girlfriend, in attempts to cheer her up. Of course, the contract signed does not state anything about 'worker's welfare', so be prepared to slog your guts out for nothing. Seriously, it's scary. I mean, you can clutch onto your handphone 24/7, and expect any random messages from her to wake you up when you're asleep, just to know every minutia of her inconsequential life. It's like a daily digest of what she did, except that it becomes an hourly event.
Besides the clause of no welfare, be prepared to be her venting ground for her inner angst. Don't expect to be treated like a normal human being with feelings. You're special to her, or at least special in a way that she can use you as much as she likes, or just use you just because she can. And if you get really pissed off because she touched your raw nerve or something, don't expect an apology or anything of that sort. Girls never apologize. Or at least, they don't apologize to guys when they piss them off. They don't understand that humans can feel moody, or depressed, or angsty, even without PMS. PMS thus becomes their justification for anything they do or not do. You can only grovel and die, just because she told you to. You can't do anything. Her words fall like lead on your poor glass-heart. Or cushion. Or anything that's soft in nature. Either way, you get crushed and broken, and she'd just leave you there to rot and die.
You sold your soul to the devil anyway, you can go die already. I don't know about all girls, but I'd just jump to the conclusion that all girls are like that.
If you have a sudden lapse of judgement, I hope you come to your senses after reading this post. You don't get anything out of it, and she gets all the fun. Guys are only supposed to carry heavy things and all. They cannot watch porn, cannot masturbate, cannot be truthful, are supposed to tell white lies, aren't supposed to tell you when some random girl fellates him, can't do this, can't do that.
Guys are seriously overworked, underpaid.
Perhaps I shouldn't even be posting this, because girls are bound to read this blog, seeing as I'm so amusing and all, but seriously. I need to release some of my inner angst. I think I kept it quite well from you. I didn't explode in anger, but anger still leaked out. You can't expect me to not be angry despite being treated like a clown, right? I mean, even robots need maintenance every now and then.
Of course, the easiest way out would be for someone to apologize and the whole fiasco would come to an end, and this blog post to serve as a scar on the friendship you have(or had) with your female friend. But then again, would things ever be the same again? Seriously, I don't know and I don't think I'd want to care because I'm a petty hermaphrodite and hermaphrodites would PMS too.
I mean, I do have my rights to vent my anger or something, right? Therefore, I think, after publishing this post and taking a much needed cold shower to cool myself down, I'd be in a much better state to talk to you. That depends on whether you'd still be able to face me without flinching. Or maybe you'd be so angsty after this post that you'd post again. I don't know. I mean, you are my friend after all. Aye, fuck it lah.
I shall just take my fucking cold shower in a bid to cool myself down. I reserve the rights to be angry and all. I don't see anything wrong. You can, I can.
I'm a petty jerk.
Eat me.

Oh wait. In a hypocritical effort to change the tone of this blog post, I've decided to blog about what happened today. It goes as such.
I somehow woke up at 9AM without the handphone waking me up. It's quite scary, really. Normally, my biological clock rings only when I've had my healthy fill of sleep of around 10hours. But somehow, I woke up at 9. But turned up late for biology remedial anyway. Never mind.
And after the session, Sunny, Chongxin, NKS, Yen Chuan and I went to the Bishan market food court. Sunny's suggestion on the Crazy Angmo's stall. The angmoh is really crazy. I shan't bother explaining in detail his craziness. But then again I don't have to. If you want to experience it, you can go there yourself. If not, you all won't need to read what I'd have to say about him anyway. He's rather charismatic, that's all. The food isn't exactly great, but his charisma makes up for it.
Damn friendly, him.
And I had my dosage of blueberry. It's fun, yo, having your tongue stained blue by the drink. But it isn't fun when you see dog shit on the path you walk. But it's fun if you pour your ice out onto the shit. It gives the oyster-sashimi feeling. I mean, if you go for buffets and all, you might be able to find oysters dumped on heaps of ice. It's all fun, and I was trying to emulate the said scene. And Sunny told me to lie down and he'd pour ice on me =.=
Anyway, I can take such jokes. I mean, I've been trained to take such jokes since the tender age of Primary 1. I love the training I got from my name--Alastair. The kids would go around shouting 'MOLESTER', and I'd simply dismiss the matter in an insouciant manner. That's after a few weeks of training, of course.
But being treated as a toy is something new, and I'm not ready to be invested in something like that. I mean, I'm a proper human being, not your toy or clown.
On a random side not, I didn't have an erection at all throughout this 24hours. I'm rather much shocked. I hope I'm not impotent.
By the way, if you get grossed out by how obscenely blatant I am, just don't read lah. Simple.

Oh by the way, if you are a female, don't read the first part of this post. I don't need teary girls tagging hateful messages on my tagboard, just to remind me how astute my observations are.

And now I'd go watch porn, just to prove that I got the mood to. It says a lot when I don't have the mood to be horny. Which reminds me, I think horniness would be cancelled out if you're emotional or feeling anything else. It's almost as if horniness is just a filler to your emotional graph. Therefore, if you feel horny all the time, you're most probably a loser, and devoid of an emotional life. I hope you choke.

-- 2/24/2008 12:00:00 AM

Cat High cats.

For some unknown reasons, breeding occurs ever so often in the NCC(Land) store. We had cockroaches(not that random; guys can't keep things clean), maggots(not too random either; guys leave stuff like burgers over-weekends in school), and perhaps a hell load of other flies and other assorted household pests.
I didn't fuck any pussies at all, so why was there a cat in our store?! And it gave birth to four kittens in a box that was meant for A4 size papers. It's scary, really. I never knew the profound impact our store has on mating and procreation. Stuffing 20+ virile young men bursting at their seams with testosterone in a small room would certainly have adverse effects on the environment(and the room). Perhaps this is retribution. Just retribution.
I even took pictures of the family of 5. But the mother cat ran off. I think 10+ young men shouting and all scared the mother out of her wits, and she just had to run away and abandon her newborns. I don't know. Perhaps we were really scary. Or maybe it doesn't take much to scare a cat. Or maybe her maternal instincts weren't strong enough. Or maybe it's just a very weird amalgamation of all of the above. I don't really know ahaha.
Here are some pictures, because if a picture paints a thousand words. Nah, I'm not emotional enough to complete that verse.
Here goes:

Traumatizing, really.
After yet another session of Khavadi, we played a wee bit of soccer and then went for dinner at J8. WC's birthday siol! Or rather, just a belated celebration. And for some unknown reason we were split into two, and BW and I went over to KFC to buy food to makan at Mac's with WC and LS. And I got my school uniform stained with chili sauce! The table erupted in laughter. I like this kind of stupid things I somehow leak out every now and then. It's just refreshing.
And we made bets on who from KFC would come over first. Perry won lah, he placed his bet on Clement. And the four of us won LS. He didn't bet that SC would be the runner-up. Sad. He owes us like meals. Easy free meal.

And the bus ride home was fucking random. SC, BW, DH, YCC, WC, and I were boarding bus 88 when Eric, Hubert and GZK just suddenly popped in. Were raring to sing the birthday song to WC, but realized that it'd be rather much of a disgrace to the school and all. Not so much on the school, but potential parang-ers could be around. I don't want to die young.

So we didn't do it after all. Yea.
So ends another exciting Friday night in the life of an exciting Cat High student.

Oh by the way, since the mother ran off, we called Ms. Chow down. She was skeptical but appeared anyway. And Ms. Qiu came along also. We called the SPCA, since the mother cat seems averse to the iFea of collecting her dying babies. Yes, they were shivering in cold. I don't understand why LS won't allow people to cover the box they were in with something like a uniform. I mean, it'd insulate the box and keep them warmer while not suffocating them, right? Never mind. They didn't die after all I guess.
Don't know what'd happen on the SPCA's end though.

Life is cruel. Be even worse to it.

-- 2/22/2008 11:57:00 PM

X-country.

Yea, so I ended up at Bishan Park(1) at around 6.30AM. Was rather much lost, and would've preferred staying that way if I knew what was in store for me when I got to the assembly area. Saikhang. Have to carry cartons of drinks that we'd have to pay for eventually after the run at an exorbitant price. Seriously, the PE dept. was out to recoup the losses I incur to them nearly every week.
Insider's joke, obviously.
Anyway, the race was damn crap. As in, I didn't get my butt kicked, but I didn't get to kick any butts either. My house effing lost the cross-country championship thing. OK I know that CKS cheated (he grabbed a lot of the tickets and placed them in his own house's box. Each of us in the mass run were supposed to take only one), and that he's in Philippe, the house that won us by 10+ points.
And some blur kids from my house placed their shit-like tickets into the Philippe box. I can only hope that they won't stay alive for too long.
Anyway, I won't bother with the loss since I'm not that enthusiastic about such competitions and all. People who know me knows that I'm not competitive. OK, perhaps they know that I'm scared of losing thus am not competitive. Maybe it's just me, but competitions are so stupid. I mean, what's the point in having them? It's just a bloody waste of time. Seriously, I'd rather spend my time jerking off to Runescape or something. And Runescape isn't that sexciting.
Rawr.
Anyway, I was reading the newspapers just now when I decided that the time to cancel my newspaper subscription is nigh. There's no point reading this shit anymore. I mean, I don't have to read the same thing that many times. What's on today's edition is a replay of what was published yesterday. And what was published yesterday was what was published the day before. There's nothing much exciting, except for the Dr. Frankenstein article.
I lived till 95, died of lung cancer, and had my body parts stolen. Or at least someone from BBC news reporter or something of that nature suffered that cruel fate. But that's only one of the cases.
Be careful. You won't want to find your bones replaced with PVC pipes and anything of those sort.
And having gloves and incriminating evidences of their crime being sewn into your innards won't leave you resting in peace. It's scary how people can do such atrocious things out of greed.

Anyway, I don't have much to say already. I know I'd have nightmares later. No, not because I'm dreaming of myself turning in my grave because of someone replacing my bones with tubings and PVC pipes, but because I laughed too much. Don't misunderstand me. I'm not macabre. But I was bored, and watched a lame show with my sister.
If I really have a horrible nightmare, I'd hate my sister for life.
Seriously. I hate having nightmares. Who doesn't?
http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/yrVXPFEWj7c/
Enjoy.
Oh, speaking of my sister reminds me of betting. She was totally hyped up due to the Toto $10million prize shit. She bought her lottery ticket at $5.50 I think. I'm not sure, but I find it rather stupid. I won't waste my money and hope that I'd win. Perhaps betting every once in a while would be OK, but you can't expect to just win $10mil and walk away in life without doing anything, right?
It's rather weird. I do know that humans are wasteful people, and that some of them are even willing to clone their own pets when those creatures die. And cloning of pets cost what?-30K+? Speaking of cloning reminds me of Andy Ho in the Straits Time review section. He wrote about how 'Bitches only ovulate once or twice in a year.' Now you know when to fuck your bitch, and that there's a need to grab the chance when it comes along.
Anyway, back to how I think betting could result in the ultimate destruction of a family. If you people lead a healthy TV life, you'd most probably have seen the anti-gambling shit every commercial break. It's stupid, really. I can see my sister transforming into a gambler, and she was saying stuff like 'If the person is really hooked on, then he won't watch a short clip and change also what.' How astute, her observations. There's really no point in that advertisement for the hotline for 'Problem gambling'. I can't even recall for sure what is its name.
OK maybe there's a point, in which the typical paedophile has his hand on his dick, getting ready and taking aim on the little girl's face when she holds onto her piggy bank and appears on the screen. Then, at that precise moment, the said paedophile's hot rod would sizzle and crack, and lava-hot jizm shoot out towards the beams of lights that helped to visualize the little girl in real life. A competition can also be held to see who ejaculates most powerfully, in the form of cracking of the television set with nothing but the force of his ejaculation.
I think the atrocities mentioned above is the only (mis)deed the video clip can impel others to do.
Anyway, I need to earn back the money I lost today while buying the drinks. Today would be perfect.
I love the NCC store.

-- 2/22/2008 12:35:00 AM

Cross-country Eve?

And JLXZ was blabbering something about how Cat High had air-conditioned classrooms in 2005, but removed it in that year or something. I can't remember crap very well. Wait...what's my informant's name again? Ah forget it.
Anyway, we had briefing for the annual cross-country fiasco, which would be taking place tomorrow. We did it in...Turf city? Or club for that matter, I can't really recall. It's crap anyway. I remember the suffocating atmosphere of Bukit Timah. Somehow, there's this sense of foreboding whenever I enter that region. It's as if there's a force-field that somehow makes pure and innocent people feel spasms of chest constrictions.
Maybe it's just me, but I somehow have heart palpitations in that inferno.
Never mind.
Lucky we're having the X-country in Bishan Park 1. Oh wait...there are neighbourhood schools around. Must bring parang. Or something that can defend you from an attack from 4 people. If you have such a weapon, you're safe. Or at least you should be.
Anyway, we're supposed to have 7hours of sleep. Don't see that happening.
Oh. We had briefings by our separate houses. Which was quite fun, seeing as it was by Mr. Quay. And he's funny. If I were to quote him, it'd take quite some time?
'If you got two legs you can run.'
'I'd be running at the back to kick your butt if you walk.'
Aye it's not that funny when you type it out. I mean, he's more comical in real life.
Seriously, if not for his receding hairline and skull shape primitive to that of a luo han fish, I'd be in love with him if I'm gay.
He's that charismatic, really. OK maybe it's just me, but guys with humour just turn me on. And no, I'm not talking about stuff like vitreous humour and all.
Since Lvl130 patented it, I guess here's her credits. There you go: credits. Muahaha.
And there's no need for a debate on the source of the Latin quote, dears.
Anyway, nofringe.livejournal.com just struck back with a post. I'm quite proud to say that my comment was rather constructive towards the construction of their latest post. My comment can be found on the second latest post's comments there. I won't specify which one, but knowing my English, you people should be able to pick the one out.

Whoa the place suddenly damn cold. Maybe it's just me.
There's no point in conversations if it's just too awkward. There's no point signing into MSN if no one talks to you. I think I should just spam anime, even though I don't feel like it.
I don't feel like doing a lot of things.
Oh wait. Sleep is the best medicine woohoo.

Oh by the way, there's no point in reading the above post. Congratulations, you just wasted around 3minutes reading my inconsequential post. You have won nothing except eternal scorn, and I hope you choke for being dumb enough to read my stupid blog.

Just kidding.

-- 2/20/2008 10:39:00 PM

Curiosity kills the cat.

Sometimes, all you need to do to change the impression of what others have of you is to do something really damn stupid.
The crux of the matter does not lie on the action itself, but the admittance that such a stupid thing really happened.
For example, I fold thousands of paper airplanes and throw them down from the 5th floor. And deny all the accusations that would pour forth from the thousand of eye-witnesses. As long as you don't admit, they can't do anything. You can even accuse them of doing stuff like trying to bring down your non-existent reputation. That's what a clever guy would do anyway, just lie through his teeth and try to get away with everything.
However, the obscenely truthful guy would simply own up the next day when the discipline teachers asked about the sudden influx of floating airplanes in the many ponds of Cat High. There's no need for severe promptings of any sort. It's just a simply question. No eye-witnesses need to be involved in the prosecution of the culprit.
Such an idiot shouldn't even commit the act in the first place.
Perhaps he's the head prefect and all, and after the stupid incident his reputation is totally brought down, he's stripped of his head prefect status, he's despised by others for the stupid act.
But does anyone care about how he feels about the treatment? Perhaps he deserved it, but..never mind. I don't know how to carry on anyway. It's too farfetched, to the point of stupid. Wei Lun won't bother making paper airplanes in the first place.
Anyway, I think there's a song people can play to cheer themselves up in the onslaught of serious accusations threatening to bring down your reputation (or lack of reputation). But I seriously can't be bothered putting up that song here. No one would bother finding it to download anyway, and besides, no one cares even if you feel down.
I don't have the strength to defend myself anymore. I can't adopt the nonchalant attitude I always have towards people who flame me. Seriously, I don't mind having a hate club as long as the accusations are more or less baseless. It amuses me to no end that stupid people like them really exist. But if the attacks get too personal, and are true, I have nothing to say.
If anyone asks me what I did to cause myself to make such a weird post, I most probably won't give you an answer. MCQ questions, maybe. But that's not a hint for you to pester me. I should just turn on my busy mode on MSN, or best, just appear offline.
I'm surprised I'm still not blocked. I don't dare to talk though. Too ashamed to type in conversation windows le.
I actually wanted to blog about paper airplanes and them getting stuck on the whirling fans, but I don't think I'm in the mood to anyway.
Playing the same song again. The battery should last for a long time.

I won't ask for forgiveness. I don't deserve it.

I'm not depressed. I don't have the right to.

-- 2/19/2008 08:47:00 PM

Wow. Air-conditioning

So I was spending some quality time folding a paper airplane during Math lesson. Not that the lesson was boring, but just that my brain had a sudden lapse of judgement and decided that origami would be a much better way to spend time.
Of course, what better ways to celebrate the birth of a new paper airplane with the destruction of it? Chuck it up, let the shit hit the fan and hope it gets stuck, thus lowering the revolving speed of the fan. It's fun, yo.
So now they're going to install air-conditioning shit in our classrooms. Big dealdo. I mean. Yea. What's the point of installing them only now? Seriously weird. And it gives the school a perfect opportunity to fleece us, because the electricity bill would certainly go up. Seriously, the money wasted can be channelled into more useful avenues like, I don't know, PRINTING NOTES AND HOMEWORK FOR US FOR FREE?
Maybe it's just me, but I think everyone has to pay for their own shit, right? And there's not enough toilet paper to go around. We just aren't like ACS(I), where toilet paper is in excess. That's in proportion to the shitters. Oh wait. There's not enough toilet paper in ACS(I) either. They have to clear the heaps of shit moving around the school compound, otherwise known as 'students'.
Never mind. I don't hate that school, serious! Eat shit.
Anyway, I don't have much of a problem with air-conditioned classrooms. This translates into curtains, sound-proof classrooms, mass orgies and taupoks, sex, sex, sex, sex, watching porn via projector, spammage of Rubik's cube, and...I don't know. The list aforementioned is not exhaustive.
Now that sounds more of fun. I like.
I remember I had shit to blog about, but I forgot exactly what do I have a problem with.
Oh yea..hair check.
Gran posed this weird question to me: How do you manage to get your hair cut so short without committing suicide?
I didn't really know how to answer that question. I started casting doubts on my hearing. I didn't reply him anyway. Or even if I did, it's something about not caring about my hair, or how I look. Seriously, stuff like how I look can be likened to how I flush my shit away after I take a dump. I feel a tinge of regret. After all, the shit was part of my digestive system, within me, before egestion took place. And after that, I leave the toilet feeling considerably lighter and all. I mean, it sure is fun feeling much lighter without the weight of those few kilograms of shit within your system. Yes, I shit a lot.
Never mind. I don't know how to go on.
Oh. Another of those emails informing me on my million-dollar pound win in an imaginary lucky draw I didn't take part in. Just die, morons.
I don't have much of a bank account you can take money from. Even if I have, it's with my mother and it's not within my reach, so check out the year of birth I have in my email before shooting me scams, idiots.

And I just heard a rather depressing story. It's a bit edited, because psychiatrist is spelt that way and not phsychiatrist.
Once, there was a man who went to see a psyciatrist. He was very sad all the time. He told him that everytime he was going home from work, he would dread reaching home, and he really didn't have anything to look forweard to, and it has been months since he really laughed.
The psychiatrist replied, well, I would recommend that you go for a good laugh. There is a comedian who has shows every night, and his show is very very funny. It will definitely lighten your mood and make you laugh and forget you worries.
I go there every time I'm depressed too.
Upon hearing that, the man burst into bitter tears.

"I am the comedian."

Seriously, I don't know what to say upon hearing this story. Every so often, we hear stories about how the optimistic chap die first, the person trying to cheer everyone up end up dying first, blah blah.
There are so many depressing stuff on Earth, and why are they here in the first place? Humans enjoy making life hell for themselves.
What's the way out? Does anyone know? What's the point of living? Why do we live when we'd end up dead a few years from now? Is there a reason in living? When and where can it be found?
Allow me this sentence to pray for the quick download of DGM70.
Should we all simply take the plunge, right now, simply because there's no point in living anymore? Death is the great leveller after all. So why bother working hard and all when all you get in return is a grave in which no one would bother looking twice at?

I don't know. Perhaps I'm selfish. I think I am. I just want to try making everyone around me happy. I don't know how successful/suckcessful, but I think I'm not doing that well. Heck. As long as I can put a smile on someone who matters to me, why not?
If doing something can light up someone's life, why not? It's free, you feel much better, it's a win-win situation.
I don't know much about the problems people can face, but I treat all problems as problems. And where there is a problem, there is a root and thus there is a way of tackling the problem. It's just a matter of whether you dare to confront the problem and, uh, tackle the bull by its horns? I don't know. Perhaps there really are problems which may never be solved.
I won't know, and I shouldn't care.

Perhaps I should set up a blog, telling everyone to cheer up in the race against others in life. It's a more meaningful way of spending my life than studying and eating biology notes and doing Math homework.

Aye. DGM70 is loading damn slowly. I'm not desperate to watch if. Yet it's already 37% done. I have homework undone, which needs to be chiong-ed tomorrow.

And now, I'm not suicidal or anything. I hope you're not either.
I think my life's greatest regret would be to have let any of my friends commit suicide. I think I'd get really depressed if I know I'm so useless that I can't stop any of my friends commit suicide.

Just kidding. I have no friends.

Again, all the stuff listed above begs the question: Who guards the guards?
Or: Who guards the guardsmen?

Cheer up already. You have the greatest man on Earth's concern. Feel honoured.

-- 2/18/2008 11:01:00 PM

Kavadi.

The phonetic equivalent of the game the Part Ds played on Friday. Yes, that's the title of the post: Kavadi.
It can be...Kharvardi. Or whatever other weird ways you can come up with to spell it. Anyway, the game play is as goes:
Split into 2 groups. Got a border separating the 2 groups. One guy from a group would cross the border into the other group's side. And try to tap people and run back to his own side. If he succeeds, the person he tapped would be killed and taken out of the game.
To prevent deaths, the defending group would have to tackle the offender to the ground and taupok till he cannot move for 10seconds. Mr. Squashed Balls would then be taken out of the game due to health reasons.
Then the roles rotate.
So there I was, being damn hiong about everything physical. I'm quite the scary guy in this kind of game with loadsa physical contact.
So much that it took the opponent all of their people to pin me down. OK I wasn't that strong after all, but I don't give up easily. Still managed to move a bit. They were damn shocked, but I died anyway. Explains the graze on my right knee. Very rough game. I like.
Oh. It was the only game that most of the sleeping Part Ds participated in. I mean, people like Bo Xian and Keith Liu would just stay in the store or something, adopting the 'out of sight, out of mind' attitude towards NCC. I don't know, but they played and I'm happy. It was really rather much of a bonding session.
I love my CCA.
Anyway, we went back to school today to go through our HCl paper. Which most goofed up. Yes, I did that too. Fell asleep halfway. After all, I got home at 11PM the night before. And watched DGM70 till 11.30 before proceeding to play the computer and take my shower and play again. Yes, I'm suicidal. Depriving myself of sleep is a form of torture. Kills my body anyway.
Oh, and one of my cousin's 21st wedding dinner party was held yesterday. As in, like, 16th Feb. Oh wait, it's just a birthday party. A 21st birthday party of her life. So what's up with so many people crowding at a Costa Sands chalet? What's there to celebrate? It's just another day of life, the Moon still revolves around the Earth, and the Earth around the Sun. There's no change in the pace of life, so why bother being so happy? I don't know, perhaps I'm not exactly in the best of moods today. I'm not even close to her, and we were all invited? OK lor, give her face. So we left after she cut the cake. And she got one piece smashed into her face. Food fight. Quite exciting, but I got syrup on my pants. Not a pretty sight.
Aye. I think birthday parties are overrated. What's the point? What's so good? OK lor, following the theory that people should be happy on birthdays, why not organize a mass orgy on the last day of this year? This means that every Sec4 in Singapore would be able to participate in this sleazy rave party. And everyone would be able to have sex, since having sex is legal at 16. I'm quite sure of the laws. I know for a fact that anal sex is prohibited by some penal code shit 377A.
It disturbs me greatly. I sodomize myself everyday and this is the shit slapped in my face? Thanks.
Aye. I have nothing to say already. I don't have much of a topic to blog about anyway. I don't know lah. I can't be bothered doing much already. Rawr. Perhaps being emotional inhibits my thoughts.

The Oracle of Runescape posed this question:
Who guards the guardsmen?

Any answers?

-- 2/17/2008 12:31:00 AM

It was as expected.

Except that Mr. Steven Quay is definitely funnier than most teachers. I didn't manage to remember funny excerpts from his speech, but he's definitely funny. Trust me when I say that someone is funny.
Refer to Wenxuan's blog for more details.
Anyway, I think my overall impression of that man with receding hairline improved after this lah. Too bad I don't take physics.
Any other stuff?
Oh, the High Achiever shit thingy. OK I found it interesting, and felt motivated to study. For once. And that's when I was wondering why the fuck am I still listening to her presentation when I could actually be studying.
That passion died down after awhile. As usual.
Oh and the poke the straw through the potato game. The coach said something about 'Your life can be like the straw. It might break when you try to get it through the potato (dreams/ambition/whatever).'
Nothing much here, just putting it as food for thought for you people. I'm nice. Nice is my middle name. Nice is an understatement.
Anyway, J8 was packed, as expected. I don't know, I managed to feel OK. I know all this crap isn't meant to be mine, and I'm not sore over what I never possessed. FYI, we don't own anything since birth. The only thing we were born with is our own body. The rest are just what we gain. We can lose them, but there's no point grieving over losses.
I remember this stupid quote from JL: Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
Or something along those lines. The moral of the quote? Figure it out yourself. That's why I won't ever mutilate myself. It's the only thing that's really to my name, and seriously, even if I fail and lose everything I ever gained, mutilating the only resource I have is pointless.
Rawr. I can never emphasize on just how...aasdfghj it is to mutilate your own body.
Never mind.
I shouldn't blog about stuff like...never mind. If you read this and you feel like knowing what is actually is then just ask me on MSN and I'd tell you if you're close enough.
Which reminds me of a funny encounter in the lift, in which NKS bumped into a woman in the lift. The woman 'wooohoooo!'-ed and left the lift blushing/giggling. It's plain fun.
So, J8 didn't really have the 'love is in the air' phenomenon. But it had a sudden influx of people from other schools that appear under normal conditions.
I mean, it's rare to see RVHS and DHS students in J8.

Anyway, seriously a lot of couples lor. And I just walk around, spying on all Cat High guys present. All this happiness isn't mine, and I'm not sore. I can manage my characteristic smirk whenever someone slaps me in the face (or does something of a magnitude equal or greater than that). It's amazing how flexible my shit-tolerance can be.
And here's a view of Valentine's from Maddox.
http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=valentine2

Anyway, I seriously don't know what you want. It's weird how confused I can get over stupid things, and how extreme your mood swings can get. I don't know, perhaps if I did ask you out I'd get slapped in my ego
Perhaps I won't mind that damage done to my ego.
It's just a bet; if I win I get a date, if I lose then no face.

I should have taken the bet.

-- 2/15/2008 12:19:00 AM

Ooh, V-day seh.

Wow. Valentine's day! So exciting. Excuse me while I shit in my pants.
I have yet to go through yet another of this sales gimmicks day shit, but I know through past empirical observations that it'd be yet another boring day, with shit work to do. And some course shit that's going to take place in the afternoon. And an ever-depressing J8, filled with couples and groups of friends waiting for a chance to have mass orgies and group sex.
I can't help it: I'm jealous.
I always happen to have the misfortune to watch those stupid shows on how the lead character somehow manages to catch up with the female character before she takes the plain flight off to some remote place to work as a prostitute for a few years. It's always the male chasing and running, never the female.
Then they end up happily ever after, with all the sex and children, then comes up with shit 'values' like 'Never give up in the face of love'. Or something along those shit. I have nothing to say to the makers of such films.
I know that those stories aren't meant for me to watch. Those stories can never become true, there's no point dwelling in shit, and porn is certainly much more exciting.
Do me a favour: Choke already.
So, back to another boring day of Alastair's life, except that it's boring of a different severity. I remember waiting for KWK last year, and we sorta went home together. It's quite gay, and my friends didn't cut down on that comment; thanks. But never mind. This year would be different.
I have my special someone, in the form of an MP3. I chucked in all the songs I could find in my computer. Not a lot, but never mind. It's supposed to last me through the walk through J8, where 'love is in the air'. I never fully understood my lust for emotional trauma.
Woohoo. I don't even know whether J8 is habitable tomorrow not. What with all the weird people giving me weird glances, the 'I have a girlfriend, what the fuck are you doing here alone?' look. Scary indeed. I'm known for caring about what others say about me. I care so much that if you set up a hate club for me, I'd be present everyday.
I hate myself?
Yea right.
You can suan me for having extremely long nostril hair, any facial features, any part of my body. I won't flinch. I'm past caring already, so try me, yo.
It'd be cutting if those comments were made by a friend. Just kidding, that's mean; I have no friends.
It's not as if I'm trying to be a loner, but my character is such, and face it; I'm not bothered.
Rawr. Never mind. I'm not emotional. I know when I am.
Let's just go back to rambling about how the 'Love is in the air' shit doesn't work for me. I'm angst/testosterone-filled. How can someone filled with such extreme emotions ever be lovely? I'm not nice.
Valentine's day? Eat shit, morons.

Many people might not know, but there's this livejournal account set by some Sec4s, bringing down the reputation (if any) of Mr. GKY. I never managed to agree with their shit, but the way they bring across their hatred for the person in question is certainly amusing.
Now it's just a mere shadow of its past. The latest posts were about how GKY found their livejournal and threatened them with a police report.
I don't have much of a problem with him, but after this blatant case of cyber-bullying, my impression of him changed.
Why does he even care about what's being said about him on the Internet? Is he that insecure about his dick size? I've yet to bring myself to care about whatever people say about me in real life, what more the Internet. Bringing in the police factor is outrageous, too.
I shall not join in the cause of bringing down his already-brought-down reputation. But I do support the creators of that livejournal account in their amusing writings.
OK it's lame, but who cares?
And so here's a link to the shadow: nofringe.livejournal.com

Back to emo-ing over why I never get dates for Valentine's day, and why I never got a chance to have a special someone.
Oh wait, I love myself.
Perhaps I should go on a date with myself later, and hold an imaginary friend's hand, walking around J8, freaking the normal humans out.
That sounds fun.

Fuck it.

Which reminds me, there were various quotes stolen from various students from various schools in the War Museum. All of them were just excerpts and unabridged versions of the stuff already present, like the fact that Singapore must rely on herself for defence.
What the fuck? I mean, I came up with such stuff in P6, simply by reading through the several NE values around the school hall.
Thanks for giving us a non-concise version of it, assholes, we certainly needed it.
So I came up with my own concise version of what the Army does to enemies and all. Perhaps it'd catch on later, I have no doubts that my thoughts would one day be plagiarized. Wait, they've already been copied and pasted once.
Anyway, the sentence is short and sweet. 'Fuck it.'
No superfluous bullshit, just a concise version of what the army has to say about its enemies.

Never mind. I think I should just go watch porn now. 'Love is in the air', and to fit myself into the mood, I'm going to make it.

-- 2/14/2008 12:00:00 AM

Learning Journey 08

Before I begin, I must first brag about just how evil I am, baiting a guy on Runescape.
He said I was cool. I have yet to tell him that I'm a guy. Wonder what his reaction would be like when I expose myself. He keeps pestering me for my email.
Of course, I can ask him to add me on the fake account, but what's the point? I don't need more stupid people on that severely spammed account lor. Allow my diabolical laughter. Muahaha.
Anyway, I made the post title for a reason.
OK so today we went to the SDC for our learning journey shit. Which wasn't really very fun.
There's this stupid room in which noise was drummed into our ears for no good reason.
It's supposed to be a theatre, but it's more of shitty than that.
Which theatre would treat humans as freaks of nature with eyes on all four sides of the head? A theatre pulled out of the ass from some piece of shit apparently. The effects were...horrendous. It's a cool iFea, being able to watch the movie from all four sides, but this shithouse of a theatre proved that even an iFea as inherently cool as that can turn out shitty.
I only have a pair of eyes, and much though I'd love to say that I'm Alastor Moody, I'm still just a normal teenager. My eyes can't swivel in all directions and see through my skull. If I had such an ability, I won't even need to watch porn already.
I don't think any of my friends have the ability I should have, either. I mean, yea. It's scary how iFeas from superhumans can't work out for us.
And if I were to describe the sound effects as succinctly and concisely and possible, two words would suffice: Fucking loud.
Seriously, I'm not joking about it. I mean, eardrums don't throb without a reason, and mine throbbed with an exceptional pain after the video clips. There should be a limit to such inconsiderate behaviour. Or at least a warning that our ear drums would be raped without lubrication.
The flashing lights didn't help either. I mean, I can suffer an epileptic seizure due to such flashing lights. If you didn't know such things could happen, now you do. Thank me.
Either way, I'm looking for a black blogskin. White fonts. Should be easier to read that way. Good for eyesight anyway. Tell me if you find one. It'd be fun.
Oh and I got the Civil Defence helmet shit. I don't think that anyone would dare wear it on the bus, and I like doing things people don't dare to. Muahaha. That I did, and would brag.
And SDC really changed a lot. I mean, it's barely recognizable to me already. OK maybe the fact that I didn't visit for a long time is a substantial reason, but never mind.
Any further acts to prolong this post would make it more incoherent than it is already. I shall just go back to Runescape.
The bastard went offline and changed worlds and ran away from me I guess.
Fineztangel. If I ever see you, I'd kill you.
Pangseh a girl he was interested in. Bastard.

-- 2/13/2008 04:37:00 PM

Sex? This post is meant for males.

Yeah, this post is meant for males. Females might not feel that this concerns them, and besides, they don't need to know how great a person I am by pointing this problem out.

Guys, seriously, what would you do if a girl you met off the net said that she was horny? And that she doesn't mind having sex with you if you have a condom?

I was rather taken aback by this proposition. I mean, yes, I'm horny, sleazy, I watch porn and masturbate almost everyday, I crack yellow jokes, I have 72mb worth of porn in my phone, I have a 2GB thumbdrive full of hot porn, blah blah. This list is not exhaustive.
But seriously, would you proceed to have sex with that girl? It's scary, this world. I'm not exactly pure, but I don't think I'd exploit such people either.
I don't know whether I'd be able to hold my stand if such a person were to appear right before my eyes and seduce me into thinking that I can have sex for free, with a condom. Safe sex, and it's sex, yo.
I won't be so sure of myself, seeing that I can get rather horny also. To quote: God gave men a penis and a brain, but only enough blood to run through one at a time. Or something along those lines, by lvl127. Seriously, if your overflowing testosterone were to detect estrogen, and your boner pops out, you can't think properly.
So if Miss Estrogen were to offer you sex, is it even remotely possible to decline? If she treats herself as a sex toy, why should you even bother treating her like a proper human being? If she enjoys having sex, and you think you want to try it out, why not? If she's no longer a virgin, there's no point in protecting her body by not having sex, right?
Isn't it weird? I always shout out 'SEX!' in class, in the auditorium, in the hall, everywhere possible. But when faced with it, I'm even shyer than normal people who don't bother declaring their sex drive.
Fuck. I'm confused.
No, even if I do have some chiobu lying down on the road, drunk, delirious, high on drugs and all, waiting and asking for sex, I don't think it's justifiable to just do it. Life is not always Nike. For the slow, read Nike as 'Just do it'.
Wait, is that even how you spell that brand? Screw it.
Anyway, take this as a plea, guys. I know just how hard it is to control your testosterone. Some of you might even have problems stopping yourself from erecting in front of your female counterparts. But seriously, I already don't know what the fuck am I talking about.
I think my underlying message is this: would you do it if you have the chance to, right here, right now?
I'm not a nice person, but I won't describe myself as nefarious either. I have some form of moral values that might be bent every now and then to suit my needs, but I don't feel like breaking them. I don't know how the person I'm writing about would feel if she ever knew that I'm writing about her, but I don't know either.
How would you judge a person like her? How can you justify your reasons for judging her? Who are you, a better human being?
I don't know, there are always two sides to a coin. I guess this is a rusty coin. I can't see heads or tails.
Argh.
And one more thing to add--I'm even more scared of my biological urges now. Already, in a clear state of mind, I'm confused. What could I possibly do in a real life case?
Seriously, sexual urges are innate. And can be so strong that you might just do it there and then. It's always a battle between your mind and your penis. The penis almost always wins, with only the mind trying to protect the person's dicknity as much as possible, by like pulling the girl to the staircase landing, or getting on a cab, or getting into the bushes.
I remember reading a magazine, and someone wrote into the magazine about how a couple were making love in front of everyone in a rave party. Not a pretty sight, two bare bodies, smudged make-up and all.
Aye. The point is, the mind almost always loses. It's impossible to do anything, not when your body is simply oozing testosterone. Your brain loses to your body. You cave in, succumb to your need for sex, you lose. You screw.
Then again, is sex really that bad? You enjoy yourself, you're not the hypocrite that acts innocent, you are who you are. What's the difference between this and animals? Not much, just that animals don't use condoms and all.
Aye I'm getting irrational. I should just go pee and sleep.
RAWR. Never mind.
And I was supposed to be overly-emotional today because the same song has been playing in WMP.
明白 by 五月天
Never mind. Either way I'm still just as confused as ever. And I should really cut down on my computer usage. I'm beginning to hate myself.

Females should be glad that males like me can be so blatant about sexual instincts. Be thankful that I'm telling all of you this. Never get drunk with a man you don't trust. The next thing you know, you're naked in a hotel room. Worse still, don't get drunk alone. The next thing you know, you're naked in a dark alley.
And I think I got second highest in class for English Comprehension. Being a modest guy I am, I won't bother boasting about Prelim 1. Because I know I fared terribly at most subjects. And it's just Prelim1. The Big O's is where I, or my contenders, have the last laugh.
To quote Mdm Jasmine: Complacency is never a virtue.

Dang. I'm not sleepy. I don't know a lot of stuff. Let's just hope those stuff don't appear before me, yo.

-- 2/13/2008 12:40:00 AM

Compass Point sucks.

Sometimes, I really wonder what do they mean when they say stuff like 'customer service'. Maybe it's just me, but I always had a feeling, that the people at the counter would help you to the best of their abilities, and trying as hard as possible to reduce the number of referrals and places you have to go in order to solve some problems or find a certain place.
Today, I went home with my junior. We were accosted by an uncle (OK, accosted isn't the correct word used but he's quite scary nevertheless), and he was asking us for our handphones. He needed to make a phone call to his friend, to tell the friend to go to the bus interchange to fetch him.
We tried to call, and the person on the receiving end didn't bother much. She didn't help at all, bitch.
So I told my junior to go home first, and that I'd try and settle this uncle's problem myself.
I brought the uncle to the MRT service counter crap shit there. A futile attempt at making head or tails out of the musing above.
The uncle at the booth-like thingy simply told us to go to the 'Customer Service' place in B1.
That we did, and I tried to get the hands of those lazy bastards off their dicks and make a public announcement instead. They flat-out refused to do so, and even said something along the lines of 'Come back at 1615hrs'.
So I stoned at KFC with the uncle, talking every now and then, helping him get water, blah blah.
Nice is an understatement, but I'm not talking about the magnitude of niceness in this post; it can wait.
I need to fire off at how Compass Point sucks.
Anyway, at around 1625hrs, we went to confront the new security guard lounging around the Customer Service counter. He mumbled in English about 1650hrs. Yes, the P.A. people eat a lot. Good job. Which makes me wonder how they deal with lost kids all the time.
I reported the timing to the uncle, who said that he CMI already. That kind of thing lor.
Then walked him back to the bus interchange.
All the while fuming over how sickening such hypocritical nonsense can get.

This reminds me of yet another unpleasant experience at Compass Point. I don't know how many knows about it, but it did make me hate Singtel for awhile.
OK my SIM card broke on that day, and I wanted to get a replacement SIM card. DUH, a phone without a SIM card is useless.
So after school, I got to the Singtel shop to report the matter, and ask for a replacement. In my fucking school uniform, which should be quite prominent as there are metal buttons, a school badge, an NCC badge, a nametag. Characteristic of Chinese schools. The emphasis is on 'school'.
Anyway, I was told by them to get an authorization letter from my grandfather. Yes, I'm using my grandfather's line.
So I went over and got the authorization letter, and went for my second wave of attack to recover my SIM card.
Which didn't work out, as I needed someone above 18 with me. FUCKERS. They couldn't fucking see that I'm under 18, and if they assumed that I'm 18, with school uniform and a distinctly Singaporean look, FUCK THEM.
So I stormed home now, resolutely angry and spewing vulgarities like the mad man I always am. Damn bastard, them. Was so angry that they wasted my wanking time, that I had tears of anger welling up in my eyes.
That spoke volumes; my tears don't fall that easily.
So I got my father to come with me, determined to take my SIM card in one fell swoop.

Now they needed my grandfather's IC.
We barfed, and I asked the person 'Am I a toy? Can you please stop playing with me?'
Anyway we were supposed to produce the IC, but my father and I made so much noise they simply gave in.
Stubbornly useless bastards. My father complained to the manager, who had this dull and 'I don't fucking give a damn' eyes. Bastards.
I had never felt that strongest of urges to parang him, there and then.
Never mind.

Oh, which reminds me. I walked up to Mrs Chew, hoping to get a double digit for the test, which was upon 30.
I got 14/30, and I walked back like some happy pile of shit. I really couldn't believe it, I slacked so much and I got 14? OK it's not high but never mind.
Let's not talk about biology.

Oh, an open apology. K lah sorry lah, you lvl127 can??
Don't 'pfft' anymore already, cheerup, yo.

Time to wank.

-- 2/11/2008 11:26:00 PM

Oops sorry WR.

I gave reviews for 2 videos in my previous post, right? I think I forgot to mention that it was Wei Rong who sent the URL-s to me. Yea well, I linked to his blog and you can find his blog quite easily. I mean, his name is quite prominent after all.
Anyway, my parents' friends came over, with their children. Shocking thing is, one of those visitors have a daughter in Cedar.
And her L1R5 is 10. Cedar's L1R5 average is 9.9, and so she cried because she performed below average.
Poor girl. So I think I should start working hard. Scary thought, eh? There are many things in life I don't fear, but studying is one foe I have yet to even attempt to conquer. What the fuck.
And Cat High's L1R5 is 9.5, and it's scary.

My mother wishes for my entry to HCJC. Scary. I don't want to study that hard, yo.

And it's boring today, with so many people in my house and yet nothing to do. So I chose to play the computer, and got a lot of negative comments because of my action.
But seriously, what else can I do? Stone? Stare at a blank computer screen? Sit around with my dick in my hands? Seriously, it's just stupid. Being totally indifferent to the world, I decided to just turn on the computer and start playing. I can't be bothered with anything else anyway. The people around me can point and me and grunt, not knowing that I couldn't care less.

Which reminds me. I have BO. And too much pimples. I must thank everyone for pointing these obvious flaws out to me.
But there's one thing they don't postulate: I don't fucking care.
You can tag my tagboard with all those hateful messages, you can impersonate others and tag my tagboard, you can send me hatemail describing my facial features in the most gory way possible, you can do almost everything to me.
But I won't be bothered much, because it's just you. I know that if I don't care, you can't get at me.
Since I don't even care, shut up.
OK it made me blush for a moment, but I won't bother deleting that message. I mean, I have better things to do, like homework.

Time to shit. I can feel my anus sphincter throbbing.

-- 2/10/2008 09:18:00 PM

Steven Lim sucks.

I don't know how many of you had the misfortune to know about this person. Yes, he is that disgusting guy who went for Singapore Idol and stripped to his yellow underwear in front of the judges. Is anything ever 'inappropriate' to this lardass? It's a bloody competition, and I think everyone can agree that even Willam Hung is better than him in many ways.
I mean, at least he was hilarious in his 'She bangs' fiasco of a 3minute performance he called an 'audition'. He looks blur and all, and if I were a gay I'd be in love with him. He isn't much of an attention-seeking whore, he just turned up to have fun. I don't think he takes videos of himself and posts them on youtube, just for everyone to laugh at what a turd face he is. He isn't bullshit.
However, Steven Lim really epitomizes the bullshit attitude many people have towards 'attention'. I mean, I won't ever go to the Singapore Idol audtion and strip down to my yellow underwear. It isn't even funny. It's just plain gross. What is he playing at, showing off his flabby arms and all. If he has a toned body, maybe I won't whine so much. I won't talk about his looks either, since I have a certain disorder that inhibits me, denying permission to look or discern between a handsome or ugly guy. I can, however, see cleavages and muscles. And hair.
All of which were lacking in Steven's plain, boring looking mortal coil, otherwise named 'body'. I hope he chokes.
He was acting cute, totally. I barfed quite a few times, and his face, coupled with his body, killed my boner. What the fuck lah. I won't ever buy a webcam just for me to pose and take disgusting videos of myself, condemning others for attacking Edison Chen and his promiscuous acts.
Though I must admit that I was quite interested in Gillian's pussy. Thanks, Edison.
I heard that he got pictures of Joey Yung, too. Ah, my boner is back. I feel so much refreshed.
Anyway, I don't know, but I hope that all you people hate him too. I mean, some people throw a bunch of lyrics and pass it off as a blog post, some others throw in a bunch of pictures, some throws in a bunch of videos, some throw words and shit (me), some throw an amalgamation of all.
He does none of the above. I think he mastered the art of shitting-over-oneself. A profound art indeed. Mastery of it would take years, because humans normally have a problem with shitting and smearing his own body with his waste materials from the human he just ate.
It's quite scary, really. I don't even want to do the linking thing, because I'd recommend you not to watch the video.
Which reminds me of his words, which were poorly thatched together. It was like listening to someone with an IQ of 2digits. Not a pretty sight.
I think I can make an impromptu speech about Edison Chen anytime. Throw in factors like 'drunk', 'examination stress', 'sleepiness'. I'm sure that even if you throw in every negative factors I'd still be able to speak more coherently than his saliva-all-over-the-place fiasco.
And he still dares to upload that kind of shit to youtube.
Enough said. It's disgusting enough trying to recall all that shit. It's scary, too. I don't like it one bit.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQpi_CaI69Y&eurl=http://www.stevenlim.net/

He isn't remotely cute. My leg hair looks cuter than him. I can gel, style, perm, cut, shave my leg hair. What can he do, shit and eat?
Seriously scary person.
And I checked his website, stevenlim.net
It has a traffic rank of around...200K? Which is quite good for a normal blogger, but definitely lousy for someone who posts videos on youtube, and who strips down to his underwear in formal competitions.
He elevates shit-eating to a form of art, and that's quite scary, since humans are the descendants of monkeys, and 'monkey see, monkey do'. I can only hope that children won't get traumatized by him, and that teenagers won't try to emulate him.

And here's another video, that of 'Cheers beer'. I'm not sure which country it's from, but I do know that it's funny.
Anyone who went for the Phase2 of the Spec. course would know this, because it was shown in the...auditorium? I don't know what they call it, but it was air-conditioned, and made me sleepy.
Here it is, a link to the site. You know me, I won't bother trying to embed an entire video into my blog. It's not fun, and you can't see it in fullscreen. Not that you'd want to, considering Youtube's heavily pixellized video quality. I'm just being a nice guy, giving you people a choice.
Anyway it's damn fun, and I like it a lot.
But I shall end here. I mean, I do want to stay up late, but it's not possible because I'd have to wake up earlier tomorrow.
My mother's friends are coming over for fun, and I don't know how to deal with them. It'd be a bunch of irritating people, and it's impossible to use the computer when you have your house packed with people.
My sister's friends are coming over too, and I don't know why would they be interested in coming over. Great. My sister would be preoccupied with her friends, and my mother would ask me to help out or something.
I need to get out tomorrow. Yet I can't afford to be rude worx.
Damn.
Never mind. I shall just go sleep. I can turn on my 'black-face' mechanism. I can only hope that they'd be intimidated and not talk to me because of that. It's not fun.
Speaking of my parents' friends remind me of a gathering I went to just now. I truly appreciated the fact that I'm just in a middle-class family. I mean, it would be quite intimidating if you went to a huge bungalow of a house, right? My parents have friends who're richer than them. But it's OK. I mean, who really cares about the size of your house? There's always something money can't buy.
I think that something would be 'grades'. I heard that their children aren't exactly academically brilliant. I'm glad. My O's result would be a true testament to my inherited genes from my parents.
Which would be quite scary, considering the fact that I'm not exactly academically brilliant myself.
Alamak. I feel the pressure. My parents aren't giving me much pressure to outshine the other cousins or children they know of of my age. But I need to save my parents' face.
Maybe I'd really start studying, and stop procrastinating.
Soon.

Oh by the way, congratulate me please. My Runescape character just hit lvl 100. Just by levelling up prayer =.=
And no, please don't suan me. I know level 100 is nothing compared to your...125? Argh I forgot. Never mind. It's time to sleep, yo.

-- 2/10/2008 01:40:00 AM

Hate me, please.

I am, but an average teenager struggling with his studies, sexuality, love, and life. I masturbate almost every other day, and seek solace in animal porn. I have a small dick and am insecure, hence my behaviour in blogging.
I remember learning this from Mrs Ng. I attack others to defend myself. Any normal human being, or human beings with average intelligence would understand that I'm only trying to make up for the lack of size with my brains (or lack of brains). That's why they don't bother with me.
However, you subnormal noobs disgrace your parents by tagging so viciously, forcing me out of my shell that others call 'life'. I hope you choke.
It's OK to be stupid. I mean, I can't expect the sharpest tools of the shed to read my blog, because if you really are that sharp you'd most probably be inventing stuff for losers like me who can't shit properly, and grant me the ability to defecate properly.
Instead, you choose to tag me like that. Why not send me hate mail instead? My inbox is lonely, you know? I mean, I have no friends, I have social problems, and the only emails I get are from the porn sites I subscribe to.
I'd really appreciate if you people not tag me like that. I mean, I'm an average human being, and am prone to emotional breakdowns, yo. I release my inner angst on my blog, and if you don't like it then don't come lah.
Simple, right?
Stop disgracing your parents by being such a dork.
I seek forgiveness from you greater humans, in the form of you choking on your own drool.

And here's my email address for you people to spam. I mean, I do want postcards and all, not just porn sites and links given to me everyday.

alastair1992@hotmail.com

-- 2/09/2008 04:23:00 PM

I think I found a school I hate.

Many people may not know this, but Catholic High School is a Chinese school. As in, with metal buttons and all. Symbolic of Chinese schools.
So are schools like AHS (Anglican High School), CCHM (Chung Cheng High Main) and its branch, RVHS (River Valley High School), NYGH (Nanyang Girl's High School), and blah. The list can go on, but why bother? If you didn't notice, all these Chinese schools have metal buttons, and aren't the usual 'Secondary School'. OK, NYGH doesn't have metal buttons.
And HCI was 'Chinese High School' last time I think. From this, we can infer that it's the trend for high schools to have metal buttons, and be more in touch with Chinese roots. At least this is the trend in Singapore.
So what does that make NUSHS (National University of Singapore High School, I think)?
A pile of shit, obviously. I had the misfortune to meet 2 NUSHS students on 156, and I'd use the word 'uniform' loosely here to describe their attire. I mean, it's a normal T-shirt, and I hope they choke. There were hardly any buttons, and they definitely weren't metal. And I'm quite sure aren't as Chinese-fied as the other schools.
What the fuck? They are like disgracing the beautiful name of high schools by being such a sack of shit.
I didn't go their school homepage, but I don't have to visit to know how much of an idiot the principal, or founder, is. I mean, I heard that it had something to do with Einstein or something. I forgot, because it'd be a waste of brain power anyway. I mean, I have a lot of brain power to spam, but I have better things to spam them on, like bending the spoon with my willpower, or simply mental ejaculation. Not that I tried them, but they are definitely better avenues to spam my brainpower on.
Anyway, back to how much I hate that school. Don't try mental ejaculation though, I heard that it's damn hard. Either way, it's damn sick, too. It's like inculcating sexual pleasure into your mind, which is quite sick because I only masturbate because I have to make a release. I mean, who wants to wet their beds from time to time?
Argh. I just digressed. Uh. Yea, and they simply take in people with PSLE scores higher than mine by around 20. That proves their aptitude towards studying. Bunch of no-lifers. If Miss 294 chose to go there, the school must really be in a deplorable state.
I don't know much about NUSHS students, but I know how much of a bitch they all are, enough to fill several books, and this blog post. Obviously they'd be damn cocky in a place where they are all treated as the future scientists, devoted to the inventions of stuff that would make mankind even more prosperous (this means fat and lazy and sick, you asshole) than now. The prospect of inventing stuff that'd aid me in shitting must be popping their boners left right centre, maybe to the point of mental ejaculation, thus proving the point that they have huge mental capacity and brainpower.
Idiots.
I don't know any guys there, but what I heard about them is repulsive enough for me to not want to know any at all. I mean, you can't be a gentleman if you win a girl in a debating competition and goes up to her to shake her hand (thus soiling it with you ball sweat) to gloat her over your victory?
And the Sec4s there is the pioneer batch I think. My school has a history of over 70years, and it isn't very long as compared with other schools. And them? So what gives them the right to be so totally cocky? That they can ejaculate mentally? That they might be able to invent stuff for normal humans like us who rely on our hands for sexual gratification to shit properly? I mean, it might be quite exciting to have a vacuum cleaner stuck up your arse, but even that might be too disgusting, considering the fact that your rectum might be sucked out totally.
Cocky bastards, soiling our beautiful 'high school' name, and tainting Singapore Education. I hope they choke.

I'm not worried that they'd find this blog, being the IT-Savvy people they are. I don't care either. They can start masturbating to animal porn and all (as is the behaviour of NUSHS students), I don't really care. And their views and opinions on Mr. Small Dick (me) won't be rather much cared about. Fuck off.

Anyway, I went out to my aunt's house this afternoon. Played mahjong. Fun. And then went to my grandaunt's house. Talked quite a bit to her. Then went to my godgrandparents' house.
Yes, this means my mother's godparents.
Didn't get the amount of alcohol I wanted. A small bottle of rum with only 4.8% alcohol won't be able to intoxicate me. It just wasn't fun, but never mind.
Played blackjack too. Raised the stake to $10 at the last hand. Won. But lost $16 overall. Dang. This teaches us valuable life lessons. I think there's a need for you deprived people to experience it yourself. It really helps. I mean, you'd know not to depend on luck. Nothing much to say le.

Oh. This reminds me. Would you carry on writing, even if nobody reads it? Would you carry on blogging if the increment of the number of pageviews of your blog is by yourself? This is weird, but I don't know. I think I don't care even if no one reads my blog. I mean, I'm blogging only to pass time. Or to release my inner angst. Not to become famous or anything. There are so many ambitious bloggers, but how many of them can actually succeed? Let's just say that I'm only interested in expressing myself, and relating to people who read. If there's no one, I'm talking to myself and I don't mind that either, seeing as I do that most of the time.
This reminds me of Maddox.
I really love his writings. I don't know why.

There are many inexplicable stuff in the world, and my hatred for NUSHS is one of them.

Oh and I edited this blog post just to add in one more thing. I can't start a new post because of something to stupid, which stems from reading stuff from the net.
I don't know, but maybe I was just a life-buoy to you. I don't know whether I feel hurt not, but one thing is for sure: no one cares.

Back to self-mutilation in the form of a sleepless night.

Shit. Another inexplicable thing, that of the mood swings of mine.

It says a lot when I don't have the mood to wank.

-- 2/09/2008 12:13:00 AM

Ooh seems like I won.

Yea. The results were out a long time ago. This competition is so stupid and retarded that I don't even know why I'm still playing it. I mean, it's just staying awake and seeing who falls asleep first. No more, no less.
I don't even get anything out of it. Just plain fatigue due to lack of sleep. There's no glory in such battles against the body's needs. It's akin to self-mutilation. Never mind. I'm doing it again. Now's 2.16AM for anyone who can't be bothered to read the time and date on the end of the post.
I'm sleepy. I should just sleep now. There's no point banging out this stupid post over stupid reasons such as notifying you indifferent people that I won the stupid competition. Which wasn't much of a competition, seeing that competitors themselves never changed.
Which reminds me of the near-death experience I had with my cousins, which all seemed to be speed devils.
So I was at my ahma house yesterday night for dinner. And they wanted to play those bomb bags, something I never dared to touch for fear of pain and death resulting from a reaction within chemicals within (I suspect K to be within). Yea right. Either way, I never liked the noise and all. And I'd never exploded a bomb bag throughout the 15years and...around 4months of my life.
Yes, I'm young, shut up =.=
Anyway, I sexploded quite a few of them. Break the bag within the bag with your eyelids is quite a challenge, trust me. You can't do it. I challenge you to do it. It'd be worse if it explodes in your eyes, and I'd laugh at you for being such a dork. Just because it's a dare, you take it up? Idiot.
Anyway, we played the old 'Ice and water' game. Or 'Fire and ice'. I can't remember all the variations, and even if I could recall them I won't bother typing them down.
My other cousin and I were running against the other...5 cousins. We can catch them all very easily, but you don't stand much of a chance against 5kids in a small area. The fact that 2 of the 5 were damn fast didn't help.
And no, I sprint quite fast. OK, maybe much slower now, but fast enough to catch and rape almost anybody. Which makes you wonder what I was last time.
And I had this 'I-can't-fucking-catch-my-breath' feeling. Couldn't move for some time too.
I survived, as usual, and climbed to the roof of the playground just to catch some air, and scenery, which comprises of a strong bright white light burning into your eyes, and some old people sitting around, more kids, more people staring at you from their HDB flats.
And went back to playing the same game. And died.
I'm supposed to wake up earlier tomorrow. Time to sleep.
Have a happy new year ahead of you people, and don't be too vain because you'd get bothered by things otherwise not seen as important by yourself.

-- 2/08/2008 12:24:00 AM

I wake up at this time normally.

Time now is 6AM. I should have been asleep 4hours ago, if not for my competition against BW and THQ. And I somehow recalled that it should be 守岁 during our rather exciting Chinese New Year celebration.
SCZJ was nearly killed by the lion dance people, someone's bag was kouped and held at ransom by the 'lion', teachers were molested and all. SSJ even attacked the lion's shin, resulting in a rather short battle between the 2 factions.
And being lions, they threw oranges at the audience, as is the behaviour of lions. I mean, which lion won't throw oranges at piles of moving flesh? Anyway, the Sec1s-3s had a lot of fun with those oranges chucked unceremoniously at them. It was amusing, seeing orangey stuff flying around in the air with no particular aim except for fun. If I took a video my words would be unnecessary, but as all good stories have their flaws, life can never be a bed of roses. Never mind that statement above. Some random musings in my delirious state. It makes sense though now that I think about it. Mann I rock. I don't have to be in the right state of mind to think.
Anyway after the fiasco they call 'celebrations', the NCC Land people were raring to go to Guangyang Sec to find Bobby. But we didn't have to. Bobby came to us. Rather awkward though. Like, what can we say to him anyway? So I pangseh-ed my friends for the greater good.
Which didn't turn out that great after all. I don't like people who insult my school. I mean, who are you to judge? You don't take O's, you sleep in class everyday, you become some slack shit. I can only wish for the best of luck for you in the form of a job mixing concrete. I think it'd be much better than dealing with nightsoil in the slums that your house is in.
Fuck you.
And it doesn't help that you go around making derogatory remarks of people of the opposite gender; I hope you choke. And it says a lot when I can piss more legible words than your hand can write.
Never mind. The long list can go on, but why bother? Instead, I should be happy instead of angry, yo. I mean, it's the Chinese New Year, and New Years are meant to be celebrated with panda eyes and the like. What better way to have a new start than to remain lethargic throughout the entire course of a day?

Anyway, I was a bit emotional yesterday night. All emotional people goes around saying that they're emotional for fear of people not being able to understand their slurred speech and incoherent language.
So being the said type of person, I shall bang out the following words with my dick. Not because my fingers are tired or any other physical reasons pertaining to either my dick or my fingers, but because I can.
Without further ado, let's welcome the newest typist.

So I was stoning around on the playground on Chinese New Year's Eve, because I was at my grandmother's house and my cousins were playing at the playground. Being the big brother I am, I chose to hang around, sulking in the shadows of the playground when I discovered that I wasn't emotional over people, but over how much life changes. A few years back perhaps I'd be playing with the sparklers and all, but now no.

I felt jealous almost immediately. And sad too, because a few years down the road, they'd have changed so much that pictures alone can never portray.

Now pictures on my rather spoilt slippers which were ordered to be thrown away by my mother.

I was walking to tuition once when I felt something cutting into my left foot. Thinking that it was a stone, I didn't dwell in in too much until I saw that it's a gaping hole.
When I mean 'gaping', I mean it.

Gaping:

I remember talking to my slippers once when I was emo. I was trying to console it that even though it's broken, it's still worth something. I love everything that has been with me for some time.

I'm never swelling with optimism, but you won't be able to sense the bitterness and all.

And BW is such an irresponsible guys. Lost my thumbdrive withinn minutes of passing it BW. Nah it's not potn. .

Can he like stay online to say whether or not he's aslep? I'm afraid I reached my limit.

Anyway I'm sorry WX but I have to say this lah. Why did you change your blogging style in the first place? I don't like all the underlines, bolding, highlights and all those superfluous bullshit others call 'bloggging'. I seriously don't like it. And the reason behind the change of blogging style was shitty enough.

Shit. I'm too sleepy to think anymore. I don't care about the competition already lah. I remember something said about staying online and checking in every 30minutes. Something both of them failed at. Muahaha.
Besides, I'm not letting this childish game affect my sleep.

I dozed off a few times during this entire conversation. I didn't pinpoint anything funny. so if you do come across certain parts that don't seem like they belong in the suddeh, you're probably correct.

Perfect. Time to sleep. 6.50AM. Signing off.

P.S. I'm quite sure BW is asleep long ago.
Either way he can't prove it! I mean, the fact remains that I'm able to type all this bullshit with my penis at 6+ in the morning while he is sleeping with his head on his PSP.
I'm proud of myself.

Yea right.

-- 2/07/2008 06:04:00 AM

Name	Riatsala
Occupation	Sexaphonist
How old are you?