Firstly, apologies to all those who got taken in by my previous stunt.
My girlfriend really was the Aston Martin DB9.
Needed to practice my writing a bit, thought I'd splash out on cars.
My apologies to my group today for not joining them for lunch and just generally being an asshole.
Sorry Elisha, Audrey, Yiming. No excuses from me. I was wrong.
Just had the worst argument of my life with my mum. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't get her to listen to my explanations and I don't think I ever can. She's making absurd assumptions about me. And she says she can't understand me. That's right. You wanna know why? Because she and I can't talk to each other. OF COURSE she can't fucking understand me. I admit I have made mistakes in my earlier years and that may have caused friction, but now, I understand. I'm more discerning now. But she will have none of it.
Do you know what kind of frustration I felt? It's intense. Deep, intense, pure frustration. Deep, intense, pure anger too. I couldn't understand why she wouldn't want to listen to me. I'm seriously considering not talking to her, not even looking at her. She doesn't seem like my mother anymore. She's like a stranger to me. I am so frustrated, so saddened that I can do this kind of thing. If you could just step into my shoes for one day you'd understand what I'm feeling.
Sigh. Was supposed to go out with Joanne today, but I guess it wasn't the right time. Told her to go out with her senior instead. I knew I'd just be torturing myself if I'd went along. Was supposed to go out with Amy for dinner also. But in the end, nothing materialised. All thanks to this FUCKING argument.
I think I should just go jump off the 20th floor.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
who rides a wrecking ball into our guitars?
Have we never loved? How could you not see me standing there for you. I've always been there, every step of the way. Always for you; no one else could have taken your place. Don't cry now. You had me at hello. You've always had.
I don't think I've ever introduced my new girlfriend to anyone. I do apologise. She's quite shy, conservative, if you like. But she's quite beautiful. Stunning, almost. It's not the kind of beauty that shouts out "I'm pretty, look at me!" It's something more sedate, more refined. She does not demand attention outright, yet if you look closer, she captivates you. And once you fall for her, you know that you are in her clutches, and not even the grace of god can save you. Helpless, she'll draw you in with her arresting beauty, like the sweet scent of nectar to a honeybee. The minute I laid eyes on her, I knew she was mine. Her body is breathtaking. Shapely curves - as though sculpted by a master's hands - complement her full shoulders and inviting lips. Hips like an hourglass's complete a body that is to a female's what Adonis' is to a male's. Her legs are slim, though very nicely sculpted, and they'll put many a female's to shame. They are - in a word - stunning. She wears well tailored, expensive shoes. Hers are all custom-made. If I were to buy shoes for her lovely feet, I think I'd run of money faster than you can say "Swiss Bank". No doubt she has expensive tastes. She comes from a rich family and has an ever richer heritage. Her family has roots dating back to 1913. Indeed Britain has many families with lengthy histories. Her father is Ian Callum, retired designer. A very wealthy man. Although she was brought up by him for the better part of her life, he ran into problems and left the job of her upbringing to a close friend, Henrik Fisker. No doubt he has done well, to mold her into the woman she is today.
I've always desired English females. They are not like others from foreign lands. Their Swedish and German counterparts might boast stronger jawlines, more pronounced bone structure, but they lack the sort of finery and elegance that accompanies the English variety. The strength that they exude just takes your breath away. And what strength! I've been around that kind. They make the ordinary male just want to bow down and kiss their hands. Not that they'll extend them for you. They're too haughty for that. You don't have to ask them what job position they're in. In fact, you should never ask that. You can know just by looking at them. Underneath that benign exterior lies a heart and soul so deeply stirring, so utterly powerful that it could make a mere mortal shake in terror.
Now, I'm not going to tell you her name, because I want to keep her identity a secret. Not because she is British and a foreigner to our land, but because she deserves at least a modicum of respect and privacy without so many people crawling all over her. She and I have never met personally, but I know she will want to meet me, as I her. And when we meet, I know the experience will be truly exhilarating.
I've always desired English females. They are not like others from foreign lands. Their Swedish and German counterparts might boast stronger jawlines, more pronounced bone structure, but they lack the sort of finery and elegance that accompanies the English variety. The strength that they exude just takes your breath away. And what strength! I've been around that kind. They make the ordinary male just want to bow down and kiss their hands. Not that they'll extend them for you. They're too haughty for that. You don't have to ask them what job position they're in. In fact, you should never ask that. You can know just by looking at them. Underneath that benign exterior lies a heart and soul so deeply stirring, so utterly powerful that it could make a mere mortal shake in terror.
Now, I'm not going to tell you her name, because I want to keep her identity a secret. Not because she is British and a foreigner to our land, but because she deserves at least a modicum of respect and privacy without so many people crawling all over her. She and I have never met personally, but I know she will want to meet me, as I her. And when we meet, I know the experience will be truly exhilarating.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday Blues
Why can't you see that the person who cares the most is standing right in front of you? Why can't you see? It hurts me badly.
Have you ever heard of people describing the proudest moment in their lives? The day a student gets his scholarship, the day parents see their child take his first steps? Well, I've just experienced mine.
Attending the 80th birthday of former Catholic High principal Mr Zhang Ser Dian, we had to - at the beginning of the celebration - to all stand up and sing the school song. A flash of dread sparked through me. What if I forgot the words? I could never forgive myself. However, the moment the familiar opening tune reached my ears, I knew I could never forget. Standing there, at attention, the words flowed naturally from my mouth. 10 years spent singing the song, the words had never actually left me. A wave of pride billowed from the inner depths, and for the first time in my school life, I felt deep pride singing the words of my former school song. It was this sense of belonging: belonging to a family that held camaraderie in such high regard, and a institution that had richer a heritage than any other school. I felt unfathomable pride, yet at the same time, humbled. These men standing before me had come so far, and I was but one of the few who would carry the torch of Catholic High on. It was indeed, a very proud moment for me.
The dinner was average fare, but then, we weren't there for the dinner. Although I was easily among the youngest there, I felt no distance between me and the other guy from the '67 batch. We were all in it together. And it felt good. Performances by a Chinese lady and some young girls from some Chinese dance troupe livened up the evening, which was aptly rounded off by solo performances by the very talented Mr Zhang on his new violin, which was presented as a gift to him. No doubt that even at 80, he hadn't lost his voice to time, which was as clear as crystal, singing the popular Italian opera tune 'Ave Maria'. His voice was pitch-perfect as though it was coming from a man of 40, not an octogenarian.
Catholic High: The Spirit Lives On.
Have you ever heard of people describing the proudest moment in their lives? The day a student gets his scholarship, the day parents see their child take his first steps? Well, I've just experienced mine.
Attending the 80th birthday of former Catholic High principal Mr Zhang Ser Dian, we had to - at the beginning of the celebration - to all stand up and sing the school song. A flash of dread sparked through me. What if I forgot the words? I could never forgive myself. However, the moment the familiar opening tune reached my ears, I knew I could never forget. Standing there, at attention, the words flowed naturally from my mouth. 10 years spent singing the song, the words had never actually left me. A wave of pride billowed from the inner depths, and for the first time in my school life, I felt deep pride singing the words of my former school song. It was this sense of belonging: belonging to a family that held camaraderie in such high regard, and a institution that had richer a heritage than any other school. I felt unfathomable pride, yet at the same time, humbled. These men standing before me had come so far, and I was but one of the few who would carry the torch of Catholic High on. It was indeed, a very proud moment for me.
The dinner was average fare, but then, we weren't there for the dinner. Although I was easily among the youngest there, I felt no distance between me and the other guy from the '67 batch. We were all in it together. And it felt good. Performances by a Chinese lady and some young girls from some Chinese dance troupe livened up the evening, which was aptly rounded off by solo performances by the very talented Mr Zhang on his new violin, which was presented as a gift to him. No doubt that even at 80, he hadn't lost his voice to time, which was as clear as crystal, singing the popular Italian opera tune 'Ave Maria'. His voice was pitch-perfect as though it was coming from a man of 40, not an octogenarian.
Catholic High: The Spirit Lives On.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Review: Casino Royale (2006)
Casino Royale is a blast, both literally and figuratively. The starting chase sequence - on foot! - is something you Bond fans out there cannot afford to miss. It's SO fast paced, so thoroughly exciting you could have been forgiven if you thought you were watching The Amazing Race: Roadrunner Edition. The way Craig and the African baddie he is chasing do jumps so ludicrously acrobatic that could only be described as "nuts". Know the construction site part of the movie trailer? That's not even the half of it. But even though I won't say what the movie is all about, lest people cry foul over my "spoiler", I can say that's it's in every way a James Bond film.
However, there is one touch that I like. Since this is Casino Royale - which is supposedly Bond's first foray into the world of espionage - this film focuses more on his "growing up" stages than him fighting the baddies. This film, still helmed by Broccoli's Eon Productions - which has producing Bond movies since god knows when - shows new Bond Daniel Craig as a young Bond, determined to prove himself and his status as a 00 - someone who has a license to kill. Also, since this film is supposedly Bond's first mission for MI6, it shows him as a spy who's still rather rough around the edges. Gone - naturally - is the witty repartee and suave, spotlight-on charm that we are so used to seeing Bond in. In several parts Bond is speaking almost like a normal person. However the filmmakers couldn't do away with the wit entirely and that made for some really wonderful one-liners, e.g. his lady saves him from near death. The first sentence he speaks after regaining consciousness is "You ok?".
I suppose Bond still hasn't found his smooth-talking side yet. However, Craig/Bond still wears stylish Savile Row suits, all hand tailored, and his babe-licious women all still wear plunging necklines so low and deep they could have shown their pantyhose. That's why men watch Bond films. Own up, all of you (raises hand).
This film is Bond like we've come to know, but with a more emotional side. In this film, Bond is shown, for the first time (I believe), more involved with his women. In previous films, Bond is always shown being very detached from his women, lest I venture so far as to say only for sex. It's almost as if there's is actually a human inside all of him. More touchy-feely, though kisses abound. Sex scenes were dreadfully short, or perhaps the good folks at the Censorship Board thought maybe that that was one breast too many. In my opinion I think that's a major fallacy. If they had indeed edited it, then they are taking away the sensuality of it all that characterizes all Bond films.
All in all, in my opinion, this is one of the better Bond films created. Casting a relatively-unknown but very likeable and lookable Daniel Craig, Eon Productions has succeeded in producing a film that stands out above all other Bond films. It's more emotional, more involving and more intellectual, not to mention having plenty of heart-pounding chases sequences. But this film is long. I watched the 1945 one and it didn't stop till 2230. Nearly 3 hours. Needless to say some portions were slightly draggy. However in this case, the good portions far outweigh the bad and that earns it a 4/5 rating from me.
However, there is one touch that I like. Since this is Casino Royale - which is supposedly Bond's first foray into the world of espionage - this film focuses more on his "growing up" stages than him fighting the baddies. This film, still helmed by Broccoli's Eon Productions - which has producing Bond movies since god knows when - shows new Bond Daniel Craig as a young Bond, determined to prove himself and his status as a 00 - someone who has a license to kill. Also, since this film is supposedly Bond's first mission for MI6, it shows him as a spy who's still rather rough around the edges. Gone - naturally - is the witty repartee and suave, spotlight-on charm that we are so used to seeing Bond in. In several parts Bond is speaking almost like a normal person. However the filmmakers couldn't do away with the wit entirely and that made for some really wonderful one-liners, e.g. his lady saves him from near death. The first sentence he speaks after regaining consciousness is "You ok?".
I suppose Bond still hasn't found his smooth-talking side yet. However, Craig/Bond still wears stylish Savile Row suits, all hand tailored, and his babe-licious women all still wear plunging necklines so low and deep they could have shown their pantyhose. That's why men watch Bond films. Own up, all of you (raises hand).
This film is Bond like we've come to know, but with a more emotional side. In this film, Bond is shown, for the first time (I believe), more involved with his women. In previous films, Bond is always shown being very detached from his women, lest I venture so far as to say only for sex. It's almost as if there's is actually a human inside all of him. More touchy-feely, though kisses abound. Sex scenes were dreadfully short, or perhaps the good folks at the Censorship Board thought maybe that that was one breast too many. In my opinion I think that's a major fallacy. If they had indeed edited it, then they are taking away the sensuality of it all that characterizes all Bond films.
All in all, in my opinion, this is one of the better Bond films created. Casting a relatively-unknown but very likeable and lookable Daniel Craig, Eon Productions has succeeded in producing a film that stands out above all other Bond films. It's more emotional, more involving and more intellectual, not to mention having plenty of heart-pounding chases sequences. But this film is long. I watched the 1945 one and it didn't stop till 2230. Nearly 3 hours. Needless to say some portions were slightly draggy. However in this case, the good portions far outweigh the bad and that earns it a 4/5 rating from me.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
excellent
MY hand just automatically came up and snapped this shotof this really hot showbabe. The car's only a damned Cefiro. Sorry,
hormones ran astray.
Bert's gonna like this. Possibly the hottest car there: the Lambo Murcielago LP640. A monster machine indeed. Monster price tag too.Well for mere mortals like us, the likes of the Mazda MX-5, RX-8, Honda NSX and what-not are suitably within reach. That's for all you boy racers out there. I guess I lose on bragging rights this motorshow because the German giants BMW, Audi and the three-pointed star weren't there. Euro motoring was there in spirit, though (I believe). It was fun while it lasted. Was there with Johnathan and at long last, Jerold. Haven't seen him for so long. Ended up playing X-Box 360 after a mere half an hour. I guess the sirens' song of Gears of War and Project Gotham Racing 2 was too tempting. And I'll have to use some vulgarity here: the visuals were fan-fucking-tastic. There's no other phrase descriptive enough.
Speaking of visuals, the motorshow babes were wonderful in their own right too. Some were so hot they could make even the coldest, most detached man sweat. Some others were, as Jerold so succinctly put it, "Like as if Borneo Motors was running on a tight budget." (Toyota take note: motorshow babes are supposed to be young, fleshy and curvy. NOT old, fleshy and curvy. There's a distinction.)
Plenty of variety to whet one's appetite for vehicular ogling. Generally the vehicles displayed were mostly your run-of-the-mill family mover or 4 door saloon. Like hey, all right, this is just the Singapore Motorshow. Not exactly the Farnborough of motorshows. Having said that, I think Geely took that one step too far. The Chinese marque has just introduced their range of vehicles into Singapore. And I for one, think they are a terrible buy. The MX's doors, for instance, close with a hollow resonance, and Jerold and I also heard the steel door rattle a bit. Not good. The cabin's plastics were also built down to a price, with stray slivers of plastic appearing on the sills of the driver's door map pocket. Not good. I agree with Johnathan that the cabin looks outdated too. It doesn't have style and looks about as refreshing as a dirty swimming pool. Again, dashboard plastics are hollow and thin as cardboard. Its 16V, DOHC engine is mated to a 4 speed tranny, allowing the thinly-disguised rickshaw to hit 150km/h. How it can even stay together at 80km/h, I wonder. Even though it's cheap and (all right, I relent) relatively economical, it just doesn't add up. Brands like Skoda, Fiat and even Kia offer so much better motoring quality at a comparative level. Cheap pricing is not a virtue if the entire package is compromised.
Enough of cars. Test today was pretty all right, though confidence is on the low side. GEMS tomorrow, hope I can stay awake. Organ hasn't been practiced yet (what's new?). Made Audrey her card, which I think took me close to 3-4 hours. Just for colouring. I'm pretty pleased with myself because I think I did a rather neat job. Still haven't apologized to my pens though.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
fun stuff
Gotta tell you guys the most exciting thing today man. I changed my GUI from XP to Vista's. Now how cool is that? Means now my laptop has the look of Windows Vista and frankly, it isn't disappointing at all. Point your browser to www.windowsxlive.net and download the package from there, install and voila. It really can make people think you've changed to Vista because this gizmo TOTALLY changes your interface to look like the much-vaunted Aero interface Vista uses. Freaking cool. See through windows and all. Even my startup graphics display Windows Vista Ultimate, instead of Windows XP Pro. You know the little window that pops when you boot up, that says "Windows is starting up", then with the stylized Windows XP above it? Well, mine shows Windows Vista Ultimate now, the name of a real version of Vista. Cool man. BUT BE WARNED. This program changes your whole GUI so system instability may occur. It didn't mine though, so I'm really happy.
Saw the so-called fake ang moh guy who goes around begging for money. I couldn't tell whether he was a phoney or not because I wasn't really looking. I was at MOS Burger at Plaza Singapura today, doing maths when suddenly he came in. He handed what looked like two plastic-laminated cards, each the size of a credit card, to several people. I presume they had things written on them like "Please help me. I'm deaf, mute, dumb or all three depending on how much money you can part with". He stayed back for a while to see whether any of the 3 people he handed the cards to would donate. None did. He then silently (of course) walked back and collected the cards. I think someone should investigate to see whether he's for real. I don't mind giving some cash to a poor soul with disabilities, but if he's not for real, sorry dude. Not a cent.
Paper today was superbly nicely half done, if you get my drift. Only half elated that I can actually pass well. Tomorrow's and the next day's papers are kinda scary though. Math and Structured Programming. After that it's kinda freedom for me but I'm not resting up. Got my performance to take care of.
German class was great today. Saw Katrin, my previous teacher. She was looking absolutely gorgeous. Then my temperature rose. I think the air-con suddenly broke down at that moment. Hot. Yep.
Haven't spoken to Jo in a long while. CAN YOU PLEASE CALL, WOMAN. Stop hibernating.
Song of the week: Love Walks In - Van Halen
Saw the so-called fake ang moh guy who goes around begging for money. I couldn't tell whether he was a phoney or not because I wasn't really looking. I was at MOS Burger at Plaza Singapura today, doing maths when suddenly he came in. He handed what looked like two plastic-laminated cards, each the size of a credit card, to several people. I presume they had things written on them like "Please help me. I'm deaf, mute, dumb or all three depending on how much money you can part with". He stayed back for a while to see whether any of the 3 people he handed the cards to would donate. None did. He then silently (of course) walked back and collected the cards. I think someone should investigate to see whether he's for real. I don't mind giving some cash to a poor soul with disabilities, but if he's not for real, sorry dude. Not a cent.
Paper today was superbly nicely half done, if you get my drift. Only half elated that I can actually pass well. Tomorrow's and the next day's papers are kinda scary though. Math and Structured Programming. After that it's kinda freedom for me but I'm not resting up. Got my performance to take care of.
German class was great today. Saw Katrin, my previous teacher. She was looking absolutely gorgeous. Then my temperature rose. I think the air-con suddenly broke down at that moment. Hot. Yep.
Haven't spoken to Jo in a long while. CAN YOU PLEASE CALL, WOMAN. Stop hibernating.
Song of the week: Love Walks In - Van Halen
Monday, November 13, 2006
goddamned test
GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED! GODDAMNED PEEE PAPER FAILED!
Oh did I mention, goddamned PEEE paper failed too? I think I didn't.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It was everything gone wrong. Don't wanna talk about it. Mr Program Director for PEEE, you can take that paper and shove it up your ass. Only then will I tell you how many turns the coil around the electromagnet should have (hint: It's to do with how far up your ass I'll shove that paper).
Bert's been a hand in encouraging me to not look back. Those few sentences of his have at least given me back a modicum of faith in myself, and for that I'm deeply thankful to him. But for Pete's sake I don't want a modicum, least of all now. I want FULL confidence in myself. Back to my old self: confident, forward looking and optimistic (I could add hardworking in but I'd have to work on that). Now I think I'm just stuck in a funk. A blue funk.
KAI YI YOU THE MAN.
THINK LIKE A MAN.
TALK LIKE A MAN.
ACT LIKE A MAN.
BE THE MAN.
Oh did I mention, goddamned PEEE paper failed too? I think I didn't.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It was everything gone wrong. Don't wanna talk about it. Mr Program Director for PEEE, you can take that paper and shove it up your ass. Only then will I tell you how many turns the coil around the electromagnet should have (hint: It's to do with how far up your ass I'll shove that paper).
Bert's been a hand in encouraging me to not look back. Those few sentences of his have at least given me back a modicum of faith in myself, and for that I'm deeply thankful to him. But for Pete's sake I don't want a modicum, least of all now. I want FULL confidence in myself. Back to my old self: confident, forward looking and optimistic (I could add hardworking in but I'd have to work on that). Now I think I'm just stuck in a funk. A blue funk.
KAI YI YOU THE MAN.
THINK LIKE A MAN.
TALK LIKE A MAN.
ACT LIKE A MAN.
BE THE MAN.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Shoot For Thrill
Wish me luck.
Tomorrow's my first exam. I hope I can understand the questions. Help me Jesus, help me Jewish God, help me Tom Cruise. By the way, that line was taken from Talladega Nights, the part where Will Ferrell runs around the track screaming "I'm on fire!! I'm on fire!!"
No seriously. The sense of foreboding just won't go away. It's still residing, smoldering. Like a dormant volcano that still has one eye open. Like a bomb that's ready to blow.
And I'm having that feeling. Again. I can't get it out of my damned HEAD. Somebody just pull the trigger and shoot me. I MUST NOT think of it. I tell you, it's not easy feeling this bugger-all, for a girl too.
Shoot for thrill, way to kill. I've got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will. I'm gonna get you now.
Tomorrow's my first exam. I hope I can understand the questions. Help me Jesus, help me Jewish God, help me Tom Cruise. By the way, that line was taken from Talladega Nights, the part where Will Ferrell runs around the track screaming "I'm on fire!! I'm on fire!!"
No seriously. The sense of foreboding just won't go away. It's still residing, smoldering. Like a dormant volcano that still has one eye open. Like a bomb that's ready to blow.
And I'm having that feeling. Again. I can't get it out of my damned HEAD. Somebody just pull the trigger and shoot me. I MUST NOT think of it. I tell you, it's not easy feeling this bugger-all, for a girl too.
Shoot for thrill, way to kill. I've got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will. I'm gonna get you now.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
troubles
Just switched to Blogger beta. Hope it works.
I'll be frank. My exams are on Monday, but I can't seem to study. No matter how I try, I just can't get myself to study. This has never happened to me before. It's not that I'm lazy. I drew up a detailed program for myself this week and promised to keep to it. I didn't. I'm really very worried that I may retain this year. I'm on the verge of desperation now, a man who sees his future on very shaky ground. Not that I'm not trying my best; I am. I'm giving it my all. But if I don't pass this time, I will retain. And that's something I don't want to see happening. I don't want to disappoint people around me. Especially my parents. Poly education is very expensive and it's no joke. And I don't want to do an entire year's worth of the same work I did previously.
I'm really very worried. I'm starting to think I've chosen the wrong diploma to pursue. But I don't want to fall into that pit of frustration and angst. I may not get back out at all. All I need to do is get past this year.
Why am I so unmotivated, especially now? Why can't I study? What's happening to me?
I'll be frank. My exams are on Monday, but I can't seem to study. No matter how I try, I just can't get myself to study. This has never happened to me before. It's not that I'm lazy. I drew up a detailed program for myself this week and promised to keep to it. I didn't. I'm really very worried that I may retain this year. I'm on the verge of desperation now, a man who sees his future on very shaky ground. Not that I'm not trying my best; I am. I'm giving it my all. But if I don't pass this time, I will retain. And that's something I don't want to see happening. I don't want to disappoint people around me. Especially my parents. Poly education is very expensive and it's no joke. And I don't want to do an entire year's worth of the same work I did previously.
I'm really very worried. I'm starting to think I've chosen the wrong diploma to pursue. But I don't want to fall into that pit of frustration and angst. I may not get back out at all. All I need to do is get past this year.
Why am I so unmotivated, especially now? Why can't I study? What's happening to me?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
today and yesterday
Seems like the number of hits on my site per day has nearly doubled after my Wee Shu Min entry two days prior. I know it's a crap job compared to some really dedicated and talented writers but hey, I'm on my way there.
Went out with Audrey for lunch today. Situation amicably resolved, we're now two very happy people. Busted that problem through, slam, bam, thank you Ma'am. Let's hear no more of it. Congrats and handshakes all around for getting a nice Silver for Napfa though, Aud. We traipsed down to Cash Converters at TP where I had the most pleasant surprise. Peeking out underneath a layer of dust were a row of computers squatting atop the topmost shelf of a metal rack. Wait, don't click the Back button so fast. These were no ordinary PCs. They weren't even PCs. They were Apple G3 imacs, lime green, apparently donated by The Overseas Family School.
I took one look at them and instantly fell in love with them AND the price tag. S$89 bucks for an imac!! I couldn't believe my eyes. However one of them was priced slightly higher at S$185. Audrey said it could be because it was higher specced and I think she's right. Although how much higher specced I don't know. Oh man. I am really in love with those computers. Just look at their sleek designs, funky colors and all-in-one design. Apple really produced something short of a miracle in their G3s.
I'm really tempted to buy one of those. I don't mind parting with S$89 bucks (all right, I don't think Dad does, anyway) to own a piece of technology has shaped the way the computing world has looked at desktop pieces. It already has made its way to CNet's (or some IT website) list of the "100 Most Influential Products". Who has any advice for me?
Went out with Audrey for lunch today. Situation amicably resolved, we're now two very happy people. Busted that problem through, slam, bam, thank you Ma'am. Let's hear no more of it. Congrats and handshakes all around for getting a nice Silver for Napfa though, Aud. We traipsed down to Cash Converters at TP where I had the most pleasant surprise. Peeking out underneath a layer of dust were a row of computers squatting atop the topmost shelf of a metal rack. Wait, don't click the Back button so fast. These were no ordinary PCs. They weren't even PCs. They were Apple G3 imacs, lime green, apparently donated by The Overseas Family School.
I took one look at them and instantly fell in love with them AND the price tag. S$89 bucks for an imac!! I couldn't believe my eyes. However one of them was priced slightly higher at S$185. Audrey said it could be because it was higher specced and I think she's right. Although how much higher specced I don't know. Oh man. I am really in love with those computers. Just look at their sleek designs, funky colors and all-in-one design. Apple really produced something short of a miracle in their G3s.
I'm really tempted to buy one of those. I don't mind parting with S$89 bucks (all right, I don't think Dad does, anyway) to own a piece of technology has shaped the way the computing world has looked at desktop pieces. It already has made its way to CNet's (or some IT website) list of the "100 Most Influential Products". Who has any advice for me?
Monday, November 06, 2006
what the fuck?
This is ridiculous. I can't believe my ears.
I cannot believe I'm actually hearing this.
This is bullshit.
I cannot believe I'm actually hearing this.
This is bullshit.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
a weekend of work
It indeed has been a tough weekend. Grappled a bit with so many emotional roller coasters and mood pitfalls. Feeling a tinge of that Sec 2 confusion coming back. Maybe it's because there are so many things happening around me that remind me of days past. And yeah. You could say jealousy is part of the equation too. But I try to keep that part to a minimum because once you are jealous, your mind gets poisoned. You start to imagine all sorts of nonsense that probably only exists in your mental domain. And once you start, you can't get out of that vicious cycle. Soon the only person in your life will be the person in the white lab coat staring at you through a small window. In a place called IMH.
Enough of that drivel. I recently got an email that included that elitist crap Wee Shu Min's blog entry. I know it's a little late to comment on this, but hey, such stuff ought to be made classic. Predictably my reaction was WHAT THE CLUCK?! I mean, come on. You're first and foremost an MP's daughter. Have the decency to respect the people your daddy is serving. Or even if you don't, you could probably just shut that golden mouth of yours up. Which probably has seen its far share of money-asking. Just like you probably haven't had to save money in your entire life, which a friend of mine so aptly put. You and other elitist bastards probably don't even know the meaning of "hardship". Oh yeah, keep that up. You're just strengthening the belief that kids like you with a silver spoon in their mouth and with daddies and mommies richer than the average Joe has no clue on what's happening to the ordinary folk. And you have the GALL to nitpick others. Let me quote:
"sad derek attracted more than 50 comments praising him for his poignant views, joining him in a chorus of complaints that climax at the accusation of lack of press freedom because his all-too-true views had been rejected by the straits times forum. while i tend to gripe about how we only have one functioning newspaper too, i think the main reason for its lack of publication was that his incensed diatribe was written in pathetic little scraps that passed off as sentences, with poor spelling and no grammar."
Oh yeah sure. Keep up that elitist talk, Miss Made-In-RJC. Maybe people really will start to sympathise with you and start to criticise that guy for usage of poor English. Oh sure. Especially the ordinary folk living in HDB apartments and probably earning the equivalent of your pocket money each month and being less educated than you. Of course they'll sympathise, won't they? By the way, Shu Min? Names are spelt with a capital letter. Seems like you need some correction in your English. Mine seems to be letter perfect. And I'm not from RJC.
Oh wait wait there's more. There's even more. If you read on, you'll notice she criticises people like Derek even more! Ooh aah. How surprising. Here's another quote:
i should think not. dear derek is one of many wretched, undermotivated, overassuming leeches in our country, and in this world. one of those who would prefer to be unemployed and wax lyrical about how his myriad talents are being abandoned for the foreigner's, instead of earning a decent, stable living as a sales assistant. it's not even about being a road sweeper. these scumbags don't want anything without "manager" and a name card.
Oh sorry. It seems you've misunderstood the situation, Miss Wee. It's not because people like Derek don't choose to. It's probably because he's been shortchanged by the system now, or whatever problems he has. Job retraining should solve that. Oh you've never heard of that? Right. It's probably because since you're part of the elite, the government will side with you and protect you. Heck, who knows. Your daddy could be pulling strings now to get you a job even before you've gotten your A level cert. Don't tell me that's impossible because it is not.
People like you, Miss Wee, are just plain failed products of the education system here. You do not understand anything about the world around you. To coin a Chinese phrase, "jing de wa", you are a frog in a well. Looking up at the world through that small opening, and that's all you know. You epitomise the kind of people who, throughout their whole life, know nothing but silver spoons and clear skies. Especially since you're an MP's kid. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a clear-cut case of a government employee's daughter thumbing her nose at the common folk. Poor people are not there by choice. And the rich have a moral obligation to look after the poor. Too bad Singaporeans like yourself are apathetic to the plight of the poor man. "The brutal truth", as your dad put it in his apology? What brutal truth? The only truth I see here is that this won't be a lesson you elites "can learn from". It will never be. This problem is too entrenched in the hierarchical system of Singapore's society. People like you will - after all this has blown over - continue to laugh and view from a distance the widening divide between rich and poor in Singapore.
Your comments don't count. Not even by a fair margin. They're just ramblings. Insensitive comments made by an equally insensitive person. I even feel bad about calling you a person because you don't even care.
You know, normal people do?
Enough of that drivel. I recently got an email that included that elitist crap Wee Shu Min's blog entry. I know it's a little late to comment on this, but hey, such stuff ought to be made classic. Predictably my reaction was WHAT THE CLUCK?! I mean, come on. You're first and foremost an MP's daughter. Have the decency to respect the people your daddy is serving. Or even if you don't, you could probably just shut that golden mouth of yours up. Which probably has seen its far share of money-asking. Just like you probably haven't had to save money in your entire life, which a friend of mine so aptly put. You and other elitist bastards probably don't even know the meaning of "hardship". Oh yeah, keep that up. You're just strengthening the belief that kids like you with a silver spoon in their mouth and with daddies and mommies richer than the average Joe has no clue on what's happening to the ordinary folk. And you have the GALL to nitpick others. Let me quote:
"sad derek attracted more than 50 comments praising him for his poignant views, joining him in a chorus of complaints that climax at the accusation of lack of press freedom because his all-too-true views had been rejected by the straits times forum. while i tend to gripe about how we only have one functioning newspaper too, i think the main reason for its lack of publication was that his incensed diatribe was written in pathetic little scraps that passed off as sentences, with poor spelling and no grammar."
Oh yeah sure. Keep up that elitist talk, Miss Made-In-RJC. Maybe people really will start to sympathise with you and start to criticise that guy for usage of poor English. Oh sure. Especially the ordinary folk living in HDB apartments and probably earning the equivalent of your pocket money each month and being less educated than you. Of course they'll sympathise, won't they? By the way, Shu Min? Names are spelt with a capital letter. Seems like you need some correction in your English. Mine seems to be letter perfect. And I'm not from RJC.
Oh wait wait there's more. There's even more. If you read on, you'll notice she criticises people like Derek even more! Ooh aah. How surprising. Here's another quote:
i should think not. dear derek is one of many wretched, undermotivated, overassuming leeches in our country, and in this world. one of those who would prefer to be unemployed and wax lyrical about how his myriad talents are being abandoned for the foreigner's, instead of earning a decent, stable living as a sales assistant. it's not even about being a road sweeper. these scumbags don't want anything without "manager" and a name card.
Oh sorry. It seems you've misunderstood the situation, Miss Wee. It's not because people like Derek don't choose to. It's probably because he's been shortchanged by the system now, or whatever problems he has. Job retraining should solve that. Oh you've never heard of that? Right. It's probably because since you're part of the elite, the government will side with you and protect you. Heck, who knows. Your daddy could be pulling strings now to get you a job even before you've gotten your A level cert. Don't tell me that's impossible because it is not.
People like you, Miss Wee, are just plain failed products of the education system here. You do not understand anything about the world around you. To coin a Chinese phrase, "jing de wa", you are a frog in a well. Looking up at the world through that small opening, and that's all you know. You epitomise the kind of people who, throughout their whole life, know nothing but silver spoons and clear skies. Especially since you're an MP's kid. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a clear-cut case of a government employee's daughter thumbing her nose at the common folk. Poor people are not there by choice. And the rich have a moral obligation to look after the poor. Too bad Singaporeans like yourself are apathetic to the plight of the poor man. "The brutal truth", as your dad put it in his apology? What brutal truth? The only truth I see here is that this won't be a lesson you elites "can learn from". It will never be. This problem is too entrenched in the hierarchical system of Singapore's society. People like you will - after all this has blown over - continue to laugh and view from a distance the widening divide between rich and poor in Singapore.
Your comments don't count. Not even by a fair margin. They're just ramblings. Insensitive comments made by an equally insensitive person. I even feel bad about calling you a person because you don't even care.
You know, normal people do?
Friday, November 03, 2006
all in a week's work
Just finished watching Michael Moore's documentary Fahrenheit 9/11. It is an extremely gripping film about the Bush Administration. Rephrase. It is about Moore's take on the Bush Admin's stance on the war on terror. Basically the film touches mostly on the pre- and post-911 facades - if I may - of the White House. It really hits you hard when you realise that so many men and women are being sent out to fight a war that is not theirs, to fight for a policy that is not theirs, and to ultimately die in a country that is not theirs. After watching this film, you cannot help but wonder: what exactly is The Most Powerful Man On Earth doing? It is not the American people who want to fight this war. It by the misguided ideals of the men and women in power in their country who send them out to fight: so that they don't have to. However, I still revere America. It is still the home of the American Dream: To work hard, earn money, build your life, and one day come out on top. It is still the country of hopes and dreams. It is a country where the ideals of peace and freedom are still held dear, and it is also a country where people can freely express themselves. Try doing a kind of film like that on the PAP in Singapore. You'd probably have the IAD knocking on, no, DOWN, your front door the next day.
I apologise for the wrong heading in my previous entry. I kept thinking yesterday was a Friday.
I guess my love for cars and all things automotive is taking a huge turn. Yesterday night, I spent a grand total of 3 hours surfing the net and bookmarking all the pages that had useful information for me. See, what I intend to do is self-teach myself the entire workings of a car engine. And it's not that difficult, really. I'm beginning to understand what things like a crankshaft, transmission, cam, valve, do. Granted I haven't learned them all in detail yet, but I think I'm getting there. It is really interesting to see the bits work together as a whole, fully functioning engine and spit things out like torque, power, etc. Hey, I could be your mechanic one day ;).
Audrey likes to bite me. Rephrase. Audrey bit me twice today. And I have the battle scars to prove it. Two red circles, each probably the size of a one-dollar coin lie grinning up at me from my right arm right as I type this. They should go away tomorrow (I think) or I'll have some serious explanation to do.
"Right mum, the dog bit me again. Twice."
"Say what? Since when did his teeth become the size of peanuts?"
"No see, it was my friend's dog, and I was..."
You get the picture.
I apologise for the wrong heading in my previous entry. I kept thinking yesterday was a Friday.
I guess my love for cars and all things automotive is taking a huge turn. Yesterday night, I spent a grand total of 3 hours surfing the net and bookmarking all the pages that had useful information for me. See, what I intend to do is self-teach myself the entire workings of a car engine. And it's not that difficult, really. I'm beginning to understand what things like a crankshaft, transmission, cam, valve, do. Granted I haven't learned them all in detail yet, but I think I'm getting there. It is really interesting to see the bits work together as a whole, fully functioning engine and spit things out like torque, power, etc. Hey, I could be your mechanic one day ;).
Audrey likes to bite me. Rephrase. Audrey bit me twice today. And I have the battle scars to prove it. Two red circles, each probably the size of a one-dollar coin lie grinning up at me from my right arm right as I type this. They should go away tomorrow (I think) or I'll have some serious explanation to do.
"Right mum, the dog bit me again. Twice."
"Say what? Since when did his teeth become the size of peanuts?"
"No see, it was my friend's dog, and I was..."
You get the picture.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
the end of a week
Well, it's a Friday all over again...
The haze has improved, thank God for that. I wouldn't want to be breathing in any more of that shit any more than I have to. It's killing me. I realise that the air was so bad my lungs turned black. Like my face.
Oh and my new haircut drew much attention to me. Lots of it. Wait, let's just say, my whole class. I mean, the first person I saw today was Elisha. I stepped out of the lift and the FIRST THING SHE DID was to stare at my hair. Yikes. And then along came the rest. And the rest, they say, is history.
Soccer today was tough luck. The worst thing I did was to let in the last ball. AND THE BALL WAS ROLLING TOWARDS ME, at a top speed of, oh, 5m/hour? I couldn't believe I let it slip through my fingers. Literally. Blow me. What a crock of shit.
And Dil - sorry, GIL - bert just finished his Malayan paper today. Apparently was frickin' easy and not that tough as everyone thought it would be. Considering he was freaking out the night before, it ain't bad. And hearing that, I'm starting to feel nostalgic, because I feel like returning to the old days, where everything was so carefree. Looking back, I realise I have actually taken all in secondary school for granted. Teachers feeding us all they had for exams, working their butts off for us. I really realise how lucky I am to have come from Catholic High. 10 years in that school, and I really feel that it has become a part of me. I am sure many old boys will recall the old days fondly. Especially my class. Even though my group of friends and I weren't exactly relishing in the class spirit, I am most fond of the memories we had. Buying food and stashing it in our lockers, going to play LAN 2 weeks before O levels and not caring whether we passed (sorry Mum) and generally being the class the discipline committee loved to hate. But I swear, looking back now, I love every minute of it.
And I will never trade those memories in. Not even for the world.
The haze has improved, thank God for that. I wouldn't want to be breathing in any more of that shit any more than I have to. It's killing me. I realise that the air was so bad my lungs turned black. Like my face.
Oh and my new haircut drew much attention to me. Lots of it. Wait, let's just say, my whole class. I mean, the first person I saw today was Elisha. I stepped out of the lift and the FIRST THING SHE DID was to stare at my hair. Yikes. And then along came the rest. And the rest, they say, is history.
Soccer today was tough luck. The worst thing I did was to let in the last ball. AND THE BALL WAS ROLLING TOWARDS ME, at a top speed of, oh, 5m/hour? I couldn't believe I let it slip through my fingers. Literally. Blow me. What a crock of shit.
And Dil - sorry, GIL - bert just finished his Malayan paper today. Apparently was frickin' easy and not that tough as everyone thought it would be. Considering he was freaking out the night before, it ain't bad. And hearing that, I'm starting to feel nostalgic, because I feel like returning to the old days, where everything was so carefree. Looking back, I realise I have actually taken all in secondary school for granted. Teachers feeding us all they had for exams, working their butts off for us. I really realise how lucky I am to have come from Catholic High. 10 years in that school, and I really feel that it has become a part of me. I am sure many old boys will recall the old days fondly. Especially my class. Even though my group of friends and I weren't exactly relishing in the class spirit, I am most fond of the memories we had. Buying food and stashing it in our lockers, going to play LAN 2 weeks before O levels and not caring whether we passed (sorry Mum) and generally being the class the discipline committee loved to hate. But I swear, looking back now, I love every minute of it.
And I will never trade those memories in. Not even for the world.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
mental retardation
Hi again there
I’m typing this and using my method of typing in MS Word and later transferring it to blogger at home.
I’ve been irritated lately, not too sure why. It’s like all those things are going slightly overboard and – in a way – irking me. And no, this time it’s not my old friend the green-eyed monster. It’s more of a distinct expression of irritation. I just cannot take it when it starts. All right, maybe once or twice, I don’t mind. But it just riles me when it goes on and on. I don’t know whether it makes others feel like I do, but hey, I’m just one individual. I don’t want to say any more. Maybe Miss Koh was right. There’s more to life than that silly thing we all sometimes lust for but get hurt in return. She and I have plenty in common.
Amy’s having her O levels now. Miss each other quite a bit. Quite concerned for her too, hope she steels herself and does herself and her mum proud (well, me too, if I may say so :)). Hope to meet up with her after her Os are done. We haven’t seen each other in, oh, many many months. I still owe you your birthday gift too, Amy. I haven’t forgotten (:
Jo called last night. I don't think I told her exactly what she wanted to hear but it was my true feeling at that point in time. Maybe that's my way of dealing with things like that, dishing out tough love. I care about how she is, that's why I bother.
He cut a David-Beckham-fin lookalike. Mum says I look like a punk now.
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