~ Da Most Spectacular English Lesson ~

It was an eventful English lesson today.
Our tutor gave us a group activity where each group was supposed to come up with a writing based on the different text types: Poems, Adverts, Complaint letter, Professional review etc.
The theme was on beauty and each group was supposed to write something based on this.

Our group chose the text type poems, so we were supposed to write a poem on beauty..
This was how the group discussion went:

P.S: for ease of reading and comprehension, what i said will be in blue, what the others said will be in red, and my actual thoughts are in italics and bold.

Introducing the main charcs:

1. Suave, Brainy Kaputt, (KAP)
2. Self righteous, prudish, prim&proper Girl groupmate who incidentally looks like an auntie and SO DOESNT Look like she's getting... any... sex. None. Zero. Zilch. Kaputt. (NEM, short for nemesis... mine.)
3. Crappy oh-so-extra full-of-bullshit guy groupmate whos pretty funny in a crude, lowclass kinda way :X (L)
4. The inconsequential others. (O)

P.P.S: Its ok if u cant make head nor tail of the poem in the stages, i'll do a full one at the end.

Scene 1: Just after we got into groups after choosing to do poems

ALL: ......

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O: Ok, i think we made a mistake. (I rolled my eyes in my mind at her because THEY GRABBED that text type. GRABBED! Like a cradle snatcher! Before the tutor's mouth even gave birth to the words.)

Kap: Oh well.. ok lets decide.. do we write a poem on beauty itself as a concept, or a story about beauty? (WAH LAO! ME! Leading the discussion? ME???)

O: Story lor. More interesting.

Kap: Ok, any suggestions?

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Kap: ok, how bout we write a poem bout a girl who's vain, wanna go for plastic surgery and it was a botch job?

L: Big boobs! Beauty beauty, big bad boobies! Nice rhyme!

O including me: .....

Kap: Ok, no objections? how bout we start with this? (Proceeds to write 4 lines down)

L: Big boobs! Beauty beauty, big bad boobies! (as yours truely was writing down the lines)

The four lines:

Beauty is only skin deep

A passing phase

But look within your hearts

Who doesnt want a ??? face? (Stuck at the descriptive word)

O: Wah.. didnt know you are so poetic (by which i beamed like the sun, shoooo happi with the compliment)

L: Slutty face! Come-F***-Me face! (by this time he's in a whole universe, plane of existence even of his own. You can see the invisible barriers all around him and his words are like the whispers of the wind, inaudible and unheard) (Sibei crude... but damn on point.. i likeeeee.. but no, shall not associate myself with him)

(we finally decide on a word)

Nem: Got meh? Y you so superficial one? (WTF??? THIS IS A POEM!! @!#@%&^)

Kap: Ok, how do we continue?

Nem: Must be u always write this kinda things to your gf right? (DUH... ok, i shall ignore her...)

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Kap: ok, how bout these lines next? (writes another 4 lines)

The next four lines:

I'm plain and plebian

Just an average girl

But i yearn to be ???

Beautiful with soft luscious curls

Kap: Hmm.. yearn to be.. hot?

Nem: hey... we're not like that k (Nemesis screws up her face in self righteous indignation)

Nem: You're damn gross lor.

Kap: ... (GOD!!!! Whats wrong with this woman? being called hot is like an 8/10 compliment CAN! She has issues with ppl calling girls hot? Must be the sour grapes syndrom...)

O: Ya la, cannot 'hot' la. Doesn't sound right.

Kap: ok, erm.. yearn to be curvasious? Voluptious? :P (It was in a JOKING tone.)

L: yearn to be SLUTTY! Naked!

Nem: You're realli gross lor. (Proceeds to look at me with contempt)

L: yearn to be SLUTTY! Naked!

Kap: I'm just throwing out applicable words right? Perhaps u can think of any better ones? (LETS SEE WHAT U CAN COME UP WITH BIATCH!!!)

Nem: ......., ok we'll use yours.

(Mentally chokes slam her, twists her head 360 degrees and pops it off, splashing red hot blood all over the floor)

L: yearn to be SLUTTY! Naked! <---- He's pathetic, i know. :X

Next few lines pass without incidence.. until:

I took my first step out

Onto my journey of evolution.

Nem: What? Evolution? Thats like.. from nothing to something right?

L: Journey of sexual revelation!

L: Journey of orgasmic pleasures! <--- Yes, he's digging himself deeper into the bottomless abyss of no return.

Kap: Erm, basically it can be used to mean change (Ok, i shall not blame u for being ignorant. I shall not blame u for being stupid. I shall not blame u for being u.)

Nem: (Plunging headlong into the argument without thought) But its so weird. Your're weird lor. How can describe like that one? <-- Much as i dread it, Ladies and Gentlemen.. presenting to u the future of teaching.

Kap: ..... (I hate her.)

O: Actually.. its ok la, nvm, no time le, just use. (This is the only 4th para lor, and we RAN OUT OF TIME! NO THANKS TO SOMEONE!)

I wrote the next few lines:

He told me it won't hurt

As I lay down & closed my eyes

Nem: You everyday think of this issit. It sounds so sexual lor. Why you like that one.

L: OooOOoo.. i like that part.

Kap: Its just an indirect writing style lor. Sounds nicer than 'He told me it won't hurt, as i lay on the operating table' right? (Hello? Reality check? We're writing about the surgery? Why are u even thinking about what u are thinking? u sex starved deprived woman u!!!)

L: Did i tell you guys i realli like that part? <--- No, i wont reveal his real identity. Never.

O: ok, realli no time le.. Alex, just finish it up k.

I finish up the last few lines.

Nem: Hey, remember to put 'written by: Alex'. (Meaning, you dont want to be associated with this poem. It's BENEATH u. Let Alex bear the brunt of all the social backlash from the class. I'm pure, innocent, pristine and let it be known that i was adamantly against his lewd thoughts right from the start!)

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So i went up to present OUR group's work in the end too.

Overall, it was pretty well received i might say, and i think the tutor was really impressed that we could come up with this in 15 mins time.

As i walked back to my seat after the commentary by the teacher... i saw on Nemesis's face undisguised anguish that it was praise received instead of scorn. I can almost literally see her regret disassociating herself with the work. That... is the greatest compliment of all :) (DIE BIATCH!!!!!)

Heres the full poem:

Beauty is only skin deep,

A passing phase.

But look within your hearts,

Who doesn't want a captivating face?

I'm plain and plebian,

Just an average girl,

But I yearn to be gorgeous,

Beautiful, with soft luscious curls.

I feel ashamed of my inner thoughts,

I try to resist.

Yet with each and every passing day,

The more i desist.

So one fateful day,

After months of consideration

I took that fateful step out

Onto my journey of evolution

He told me it woundn't hurt

As i lay down and closed my eyes,

The whole building heard,

My horrified cries.

Beauty is only skin deep,

A passing phase.

I tell that to myself everyday

As i look at my disfigured face...

~ Just a Story ~

A road weary traveller arrives at a bleak, treeless land, where winds race with abandon like children at play and rains are only an infrequent visitor, always busy with engagements else where and never staying long.

A stark landscape indeed.

This traveller has been to many places and seen many sights. He has marvelled at the beauty of countrysides untouched and untainted by human civilization; he has walked in great cities and sprawling towns, giants and colossuses in architectural beauty. But he has never felt that he belonged. Always a passer-by.

Yet, something about the austerity of this newfound land, the simplicity and innocence of it, struck a cord within him and resonated in his being.
Perhaps he was just bone-weary from the years of travelling, or perhaps he has really found a place he can call home.

He asked the locals around what this place was called, and they told him it's ridiculous name. Cactus Land. He laughed at the naivety of these backward indigenious people, yet found the name oddly apt, for only cactuses flourished here. They needed no watering and patronage from the fickle rains, yet stood strong and resilient against the gleeful winds.

He sees much potential in this land, barren and inhospitable it might see to the casual looker, yet filled with limitless possibilities he could see with such clarity. He realises in shock his intense attraction for this strange and unfamiliar place and knows that his future has suddenly crystalised before him.

He knows that Attraction, like a prowling thief, has crept up behind him suddenly and closed its hands around his neck in a viselike grip. And he could only yield to it's demands.

However, the closer he got, the more he realised the daunting task before him. A chasm, enshrouded in fog, seperates him from his destination. He hears from the locals that many have passed this way, and not a few, lured by the siren's call of the land, have tried to cross the divide and fell to their deaths. The more intelligent ones, knowing when to give up, left unharmed, carrying with them only a vague sense of regret as they proceeded on with life's winding journey. The daring and ambitious leaped bravely, headlong across the yawning hole, and plunged even more bravely down. Some have managed to survive, pulling their battered bodies out, crawling away to nurse their wounds. They recovered and wore their scars like badges of honour, while others never did, crippled and twisted, body and soul. Yet a few, never able to muster up their courage to try, built crude huts around the area, and lived out their days hoping and dreaming of a future never to come.

As he stood at the edge of the chasm, wondering at his probable fate, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Like an expert flirt, sometimes revealing abit of clevage to egg him on, sometimes acting haughty and nonchalant, the mist distorted his sense of perception. The distance seemed so close at times, that a light effortless hop would deliver him there, yet at other times, he could not even catch a glimpse of the other edge, so far as it was to him.

He decided then, not to rely on his deciving eyes and carry false hope, but to use his bare hands and an iron will to reach his destination. Scoop by scoop, he poured sand into the chasm, for he did not want to tread on insubstantial air, but to step on solid ground as he made slow, excruciating progress towards his dream. Some people think that he is just wasting his time, and that it has become an unjustified obsession. Some people pity this tireless traveller, whom after walking countless miles, is now scooping countless scoops of sand.

It doesnt matter anymore to him what was his initial reason for wanting to cease his endless footsteps at this place. He does not contemplate whether this would be his final resting place, or if it is going to be just another stop-over. He doesnt care whether Attraction has slunk off in search of other prey, because it's palmprints have been burned and embedded around his neck. All he knows is, he has poured abit of him in, together with the countless grains of sand and this place would forever have a part of him, regardless of whether his efforts would bear any fruits. All he cares is, if he just stands up and walk away, there would be an End, and all the 'what-ifs' will rise and plague him forever.

Some say he is still bent over there, relentlessly scooping away.

~ Alice in wander(everywhere-over-her-body)land ~

I watched 'Resident Evil: Apocalypse' on friday night. In hall. Alone.

Wtf am i doing in hall alone on a friday night? I went back to do PROJECT.

omg omg omg omg omg.

As i was watching mindless zombies and gory dogs which were not in the least bit scary running, crawling, limping around biting ppl and changing them into other mindless zombies and gory dogs, along with the super bad mutant aka terminator monster equipped with bazookas, machine guns and other assorted ghey toys, i realised that i was just watching the show for the oh so sexy heroine ALICE, aka Milla Jovovich.

And yet another realisation dawned on me.

My deep, hopeless infatuation with Milla has been with me for many many years.

My lust for her is v v v different from the animal hunger i have for other hot actresses.

I didn't think Zhang ZiYi was hot until i saw her many recent NOTTI works.

I didn't wanna gobble Denise Richards up until i saw her hot steamy NOTTI threesome in Wild Things.

My eyes didn't buldge and my hair didn't stand on end, among other bodily parts *cough* until i saw Gisele's young nubile body in Taxi.
.
.
.
I was just simply awe struck by Milla the very first time i saw her.

It was many years ago.

I was still a young teenager.

My mummy brought me to watch Fifth Element, and my heart was her's from that moment on.

I think its the only bloody show ever that i've watched 4 times, twice in the cinemas.

On hindsight, i think the plot and all sucked. Bad.

But something about her just captivated me.

Objectively speaking, i dont know why she captivated me at all.

She's not young, i think she's already 30-ish.

She's doesnt have a hot body, in fact, her boobs are non-existent :X.

She definitely did not perform anything NOTTI on screen :(.

Yet... Yet... i just think she's oh so sexy.... and hot.... and i think she's NOTTI :P.

Those deep mesmerizing green eyes.. that mature, sexy aura she exudes.... can i trade in my Zhang Ziyi for her pls :X

~ Listening Disability ~

'Hi, can i have a popcorn chicken meal, upsize, change the cheesefries to a medium whipped potato and i'll have rootbeer for the drink. Takeaway.'
Short, sharp, concise, spoken in an audible volume. Considering the fact that service personnel service customers many hours a day every day, they're bound to get it right right right? SO TOTALLY WRONG.
Upsize?
*i mentally roll my eyes up and see my huge brain.
'Yes, upsize everything, and i want a medium whipped potato instead of the cheese fries.'
That is be an additional 50cents ok?
'Yeah, sure.'
The service person then went to open the whipped potato cabinet and finds no medium whipped.
Solly, no more medium whipped.
'Hmm, then change it to a large whipped? How much would that cost?"
That is 1 dollar more hor.
Service person then proceeds to change the orders on his order taking device, turns back to the SAME whipped potato cabinet and swivels around like an idiot.
Ehhhh, no more large whipped oso. I change to 4 small whipped for u k.
*Mentally chortles moron and smashes his brains with helmet. 1 large whipped potato doesnt seem too much, but 4 small whipped? How the fuck am i going to finish 4 small whipped?
In the meanwhile, he fills up my drink with COKE.
'Excuse me, i ordered ROOTBEER.'
Without even seeming apologetic, and i think i even detected a faint tsk escaping from him, he took the drink behind and i could hear him loud as thunder explain 'Customer dowan drink want to change'.
I swear i'd pounce over the counter, grab him screaming by the hair and inflict unmentionable bodily pain and grevious hurt on him if i wasn't
1) Still groggy on sleep and the audacity of that fucking sentence only sunk in when i reached my hall,
2) A lover, Not a fighter. (Well, this definitely applies to anyone bigger than me, and since a high percentage of people fall in this category, this sentence is generally true.) BTW, he wasn't bigger than me!
3) In a v good mood coz Zhang ZiYi just made a cameo appearance in my dream and wished me 'happy birthday' in her birthday suit. Thereafter performing unspeakable NOTTI acts which i could only dream of to me. Ok, I'm in a good mood again. WAHAHAAHA.
Basically the main reason why that moron didn't have an accelerated departure from this world was due to reason #3. :P
How dumb can KFC service personnel be? No wonder KFC is going into the dumps. His being malay shows how extremely happy i was just now.

~ Forgotten ~

Okay, let's say you're blind. And let's say u have brains the size of a pea. And let's say ur command of english is worse than a banglah from Afghanistan. And let's say you want to go to the movies. And let's say you decide to pick a film WAY above ur mental and intellectual capabilities, such as THE FORGOTTEN . And let's say that, since you can't understand ENGLISH for nuts, but STILL u want to put up the facade of being intellectual and high class, you decide to bring a couple of friends of similar calibre along so that more than one person will be struggling to follow the plot, the action and the dialogue.

Do you think it might occur to you all not to REAPEAT EVERY SINGLE SUBSTANTIAL DIALOGUE IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE TO EACH OTHER AND SPECULATIE WHAT ARE THE IMPLICIT AND HIDDEN MEANINGS OF CLEARLY SIMPLISTIC AND STRAIGHT FORWARD SENTENCES AS LOUD AS YOU ALL POSSIBLY CAN? NOT TO MENTION GESTULATING WILDLY AND POINTING AT PARTS OF THE SCREEN WHERE SOMETHING SUBSTANTIAL IS GOING ON AND WHICH EVERYONE WILL CLEARLY NOTICE?

And, if you biatches can't do that, could you all please sit somewhere other than RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME?

Other than this teeny wheeny hiccup during the show, I must say it is pretty good. Also, it is the single most happening highlight of my entire week, which makes it all the more special. Which also explains why i am so intolerant of PPL WHO SPOIL IT FOR ME! RAWR!

The Forgotten... a show about the paranormal. There is an occult quality to the show which i found strangely compelling and attractive. It makes me believe that there is something ineffable out there somewhere, something beyond words and explanations, something that makes us mere mortals nothing more than pawns and little toys on the giant chessboard of life. Where nothing u own, nothing u possess, not even something so personal and close to the heart as the little precious memories about ur entire life is sacred and safe. Such is the beauty of the plot, being able to invoke such thought processes in me. I was brought crashing down to earth though, when abovementioned girls said 'Eeee, the aliens v scary... why this show got aliens oneeee'. OMG GIRLS, THIS IS NOT A SHOW ABOUT ALIENS! The entire beauty and charm of the plot was so totally lost to them.
Anyway, this show brought to mind another show i had watched some time back. Final Destination 1 & 2. A show about Death, and how Death, like a hunter, cannot be eluded because it is all mighty and every single mortal is subject to its rule. In some ways these two shows are totally not the same as The Forgotten, but in otherways, all of them exhibit something dark and brooding, even morbidity which i find facinating and more than a little chilled at. The tone and mood set by this show is simply captivating to me.

AND NO, THIS IS NOT A SHOW ABOUT ALIENS!

~ Reflections ~

On hindsight, I realli think the quality of my entries are declining, and that last entry has like so accelerated the rate of degeneracy by at least a few multiples.

That's like the trough of the graph of my creative talents.. and i realli think i have over-exposed too much of my true self there. YES, I AM A SLUT!

Ahem, *smooths down my shirt and adjusts my imaginary tie*.

I blame boredom.

I blame NTU.

Wahahah.

~ You! Yes, YOU!~

'Everyone is linked to everyone else in this world by at most seven links'.

Two seemingly unrelated strangers, worlds apart in character, with incompatible personalities, versed in different languages, whose place of residences are on different continents, yet connected by this invisible bond through their associations with ppl, and those ppl with other ppl, and those other ppl with other other ppl... yadda yadda, until it finally conjoins these 2 foreign entities.

How miraculous are human relationships, and how easy it would be to believe in the above. The very thought of being linked by less than seven links to everyone else in this world seems so.. surreal. That everyone is just a few touches/steps/links away makes this world feel so much... friendlier and brighter. (although the thought of being connected to every single indian/malay/banglahs in the world by less than 7 links has been causing me severe insomnia and hideous black eye rings, not to mention extreme paranoia whenever someone black walks into sight)
I was told by Estee who was told by a friend about this phrase. And eventhough i told her that I THINK ITS COMPLETE BULLSHIT, a part of me so want to dredge out what little belief i have left and yield to it.

Because.... Because... Because... Because... Because...
I SO WANT TO BELIEVE THAT.....
I AM 7 LINKS FROM ZHANG ZI YI!
Eventhough they might be seven distant, hazy, insubstantial, weak and brittle links.... I WILL HUNT THEM OUT LIKE A BLOODHOUND! Nothing can keep me away from my GODDESS!!!!!!

Excessive adrenalin pumping and hormone surging... gota go take a cold bath. :X

~ Me, Myself & I ~

It's 6a.m now. I think my biological clock is not only screwed, its kaputt. I lie on my comfy single bed, eyes closed, trying to sink into the warm folds of sleep, yet my mind is working overtime. Totally random thoughts whirl around in my head, snippets of conversations i have had before, past memories long thought to be forgotten surging forth with vivid clarity, idle musings of fantasy, brooding contemplation of life, all of them conspiring to keep me from slipping into slumber. I've changed positions at least 5 times, putting an extra pillow under my head, turning sideways and resting my head on my arm, curling myself up fetal style, turning yet again and stuffing my face into the pillow... sleep was as distant as ever.
Soft thunder rumbled gently, and rain pattered steadily upon the roof, each drop sounding so loud and clear to my senses. A draft of wind, bearing the coolness and crispness of early morning somehow managed to find its way into the room, caressing me like a lover's touch. I felt invigorated by the sudden gust, rejuvinated even, though i had been trying to fall asleep in futile for the last hour and despaired of getting any anytime soon. I'm so going to be a zombie when i wake up later to study. And so i propped myself up with my elbows, and suddenly, as if the sight of my computer infront of me flicked a switch within , for one of the very few times in my life, I felt like penning down some things about me, things genuine and real, naked and raw.
People who know me recognize that I am not one who is given to outward displays of emotions. Few if any have ever seen me when my anger was in full bloom, when i seethed with fury and my eyes clouded with the red shadows of wrath. Never had i shed a tear in public or infront of friends, when grief over something or someone overwhelmed me. All i have shown to the world was happiness and laughter, or lukewarm emothions like displeasure, annoyance, or dark brooding. Anyone who has been an ardent follower of my OD, or at least has the patience to slowly plow through my 'flowery language' would know that I do not write about my mundane life, momentous and life-changing events, my thoughts, nor my feelings. Rather, i just write crap, albeit an interesting sort of crap(i hope). I write, because i love to write, because i hope that what i write would be a tiny spark of excitement to those with monotonous lives, but mostly because i'm bored.
Things that matter are meant to be kept inside. This basically sums up that which governs my life. Events which matter to me are etched within my mind, vivid videos to be recalled and replayed, the story of my life. Only some juicier bits, and almost always happy, i wanna share with people who matter. Otherwise, the more the thing mattered to me, the more i would not mention it, especially true for unhappy incidents. I am an emotional person, but feelings and emotions i experience, i bottle up. Happiness i'd gladly share, for happiness rubs off ppl like an infectious disease, but anger and sadness, especially anger and sadness, i keep a tight rein on. A close friend once commented to me, that for ppl who knew me well, i was like an open book, my emotions and thoughts very easily read. That is in part correct, for that is the limited side of me which i allow everyone to see. Good friends might even guess correctly what i'm feeling, but no one will ever know the depth and extent of that particular emotion. They might know that i'm angry, but they'll never guess how much i'm seething and boiling inside, how beneath my calm composure a raging inferno of calamitous proportions is brewing. To reveal anger or sadness, is to show weakness(I know i'm weird). I am intense. I feel things strongly, and things that affect me, affect me deeply, yet i feel seemingly nonchalant about alot of other things. There is like this thin ineffable line between black or white, right or wrong, things that matter or things that i dont give a fuck about. I can't stand grey, i can't tolerate ambiguity, I can't stomach maybe. That's me.
From the whirlpool of random thoughts as i attempted to sleep, i try to establish coherence. As i lay there, my mind wandered back to my conversation with my friend whom i went for supper with. We were making idle conversation when he pulled out a packet of ciggys and asked if i minded if he took a puff. I was slightly astounded by that act, for i never thought he was someone who smoked. I've known my fair share of smokers, but i was just particularly struck to find out that he smoked coz he so didnt seem the sort. Then the image of him puffing away morphed into an image of my granddaddy, lying with his eyes closed, his face still bearing traces of the pain he suffered from the wasting plague of cancer as a soft white sheet was pulled over his head. A picture imprinted eternally upon the photoalbum of my life. He died from cancer caused by excessive smoking when i was in JC 1. Which was the reason why eventhough I am a sinner of many vices, smoking would not be one of them. We were not close, and i even hesitate to proclaim that what i felt for him was love. It is not something i'm proud of and the sadness i feel is not the one of heartwrenching loss, but more of dull ache that I had not known him better, and that I would never have the chance to do so.
The memory of him swept me to another's departure from my life. My first gf, huiling. The woman who changed my life, left her marks in so many facets of my being, and made me the man I am today. I smiled in rememberance, strolling down memory lane. Looking back, i no longer feel the unbearable grief of our breakup, nor wish for her to be back by my side. Rather, i feel thankful for having had her once and feel no slight amount of amusement that eventhough she has been gone for 4-5 years, or should i say half a decade, some things between her and me will never change. Like how my pin number is still the 6 numbers we came up together, how her name is still the password for alot of my insignificant stuff, and how i still remember her NRIC number. Yes, i'm a sentimental slob.
I drift on to daydreaming about what i would do when i get my car in January coz huiling always complained about taking public transport back then when we were sweet 18, the plans about my future when i graduate this coming June and make my infant step out into society as a full fledged working adult. Then thoughts floated back to how I am so dead for not trying to sleep so that i can wake up early and study.
The turn of thoughts led me to assess my past 3 years of university life. I had been busy, and i love busy sometimes, most times. It had been fulfilling, working my butt off in my short-lived business, tuition, making enuff to get a car, immersing myself in extracurricular activities like orientation camps, singing, dancing, yet still finding time to have fun and get my weekly dose of midnight movies. Life is certainly good.
Dancing. Ah, dancing. Another legacy left over from huiling. The passion for dance she has inspired in me for which i am forever grateful, for in dance i have found joy and fulfillment. When i dance, i am truely alive. When the lights hit me full in the face, when the music engulfs me and sweeps me off my feet, when i give my all during the there and then, the moment, and shed perspiration of effort and exertion, every drop of sweat an affirmation of my dedication and passion, my heart pounding with adrenalin and muscles giving every ounce of energy they've got, that picture of beauty reflected in the eyes of each and every one in the audience is why dance is such a beautiful thing. (That was a wildly romanticized description i admit, mostly they just look on with mild curiosity and amusement.. the bastards!) Most of my friends know that i dance, yet it seems so very few have ever seen me dance. How ironic. Sometimes i feel disappointment that so few had ever expressed interest in coming to attend my performances, and I have performed quite a few times over the years. I'm going to take private dance lessons at 'Shawn and Gladys' with Michelle, my ex cum dance partner after exams. Body tingling with excitement at that thought, though how i am going to find the money to finance that on top of my car i seriously wonder.
My thoughts then flittered to Michelle, the girl who has reappeared in my life 2 years after we broke up, more beautiful than ever and every bit as hot as i remembered her to be. When she established contact with me a few months back, she was looking for a dance partner since her's quitted and i was the first choice that came to mind since i was the one who introduced her to latin dancing. She had just broken up with her then bf, and was weak and vulnerable. I did a 'What-if' senario in my mind and contemplated in amusement how would things be if I had tried my luck back then. I'm pretty sure i would succeed. *cough.. confidence is a virtue* I entertained the thought of getting back with her, coz even after 2-3 years of breaking up, she's still one of the prettiest and hottest girls i have ever met, the chilli padi she once was seemed to have mellowed down quite a bit, and the flower i knew when she was 18 has blossomed into something gorgeous and stunning. Our close proximity during dance practices and her friendly hugs and gestures are certainly not making things easy too :X. Alas, she has a bf now, but thats not really a problem come to think of it. I'm starting not to make sense. I know it's part loneliness, part NTU not having any pretty girls at all, and part boredom. Have it firmly under control, but musings never hurt anyone :P.
And i think i have finally exhausted my urge to write about myself for maybe the next few years.

~ 2046 ~

I don't care about depth, I don't care about filmatography. I don't care how long a movie took to be made, nor how much it costed to make that movie.
I only care what a movie was meant to do... to engage the audience. To envelope the person watching the movie in darkness and open up a whole new world to his/her eyes, to bedazzle him/her with sights and sounds they might never ever experience in their short, insignificant lives, to grip the viewer by the hair screaming and flinging him/her into another dimension, where anything and everything is possible and where the line between fiction and reality blurrs. It is in the movies where mundane worries about school, work, love and even life comes to a standstill and nothing matters for that two short, precious hours where the plot of a titanic story unfolds before you, where a person jaded and weary seeks refuge and sanctuary from the trials and burdens afflicted on him/her. That's what the movies mean to me. It is so much more than pure entertainment. It is my asylum, it is the window for my mind's eyes to look out and behold things beautiful, things amusing, things thought invoking, things mentally stimulating. And no movie is ever a waste of time or money to me, for I see beauty in every movie, no matter how cock, how lame, how corny, how cheesy the movie is rated to be. Maybe i have a weird sense of humor, or a twisted outlook, for i feel much mirth and find much to laugh at and comment about regardless of what movie i watch. I try to catch every movie that hits the screens, except horror (YES! I HAVE TOO GOOD AND VIVID AN IMAGINATION! YES! I AM A PUSSY!) I'm a movie potato, and proud of it.
Estee did a very very very good review of the movie, clap clap, and i more or less had the same feelings about the plot. It was pretty intuitive and i didnt put it into words nor did i feel an urge to, but she did a pretty great job :) Read it here. Anyway, many have commented about the show, but i feel that EVERYONE missed the main point on why the show ROCKS despite the v accurate sypnosis of the show by Estee.

I found that the show shook the world and swept me off my feet for these following reasons:
1) Godhood. Tony Leung's character was GodLy in the show. His Immortal self had women falling at his feet at every turn. How he managed to exude such animal magnetism despite the totally grossed out greesy hair and stomach-curling moustach was ineffable and celestial. The ease and charm at the way he pulled off those flirtatious lines which would totally sound disgusting and cheesy coming from any others' mouths has struck a high benchmark of coolness in my books (NO, THE THINGS HE SAID DID NOT SOUND FAMILIAR SKYE_BLUE, NO I DEFINITELY HAVE NOT USED THOSE LINES BEFORE! *stuffs fingers in ears and whistles*). The poise and calm which he handled the slap adminstrated by ZhangZiYi was the epitome of suaveness and him being totally sangfroid to the threat of another slap across the other cheek which so utterly turned the tables on her was simply divine. The raw lust and passion he awoke in the women who had the misfortune to cross his path, them knowing full well it was emotional suicide to succumb to him yet being helpless to control themselves, like moths flocking towards a flame. One word. GOD.
2) The ultimate sexual fantasy. <---- ZhangZiYi. In terms of looks, who can complain. Stunning good looks coupled with a goddess's body, clad in tight cheongsams with high slits accentuating those precipitous curves and fatal contours. The devil's voice, so totally oozing sex appeal and so totally flirtatious, yet sometimes deepening into one with a hard edge tinged with danger. The heavenly moans of pleasure that issued from that husky throat during those passionate episodes could have so easily caused premature ejaculation in the less experienced(U LOSERS!) :X . Her ferocity in the act of love making, her expertise in the arts of copulation, the daringness in giving and receiving pleasure, her genuine delight and love for mutual gratification, the NOTTINESS of her frolicks were just too much to wish for. One word. GODDESS.
3) As if those two above reasons were still insufficient for even someone dense and more than a little retard to see the beauty of this movie, you get to marvel at the 60s. Back then, things were so much simpler. Black and white was so much more distinct then. No false pretenses, no pseudos. People seemed somehow more real. They acknowledged they were black, they were wanton, they wallowed in sin and they were not afraid to admit it. They lived in the moment, they didn't search for answers, perhaps because they lacked the mental and intellectual capacity for deep brooding and reflection, but they definitely did not strike me as leading empty, shallow lives. Retrospectively, our mindless pursuit of academic excellence or ceaseless, repetitive everyday work seem even more empty and shallow in the light of my scrutiny. At the very least they were having more fun:(.

These were the reasons why 2046 was a great movie to me, and i hope that this perspective was new and refreshing, though it might be abit twisted and warped :P. But i am Kaputt! I am twisted and warped, and I am unique and i shall strive to attain Godhood! :P

~ The Journey ~

Intense, blinding light shone down on me, enveloping me in a sea of white. I opened my eys wide, searching for something familiar in my growing panic. My hands reached out desperately and groped about for something, anything, to anchor me to the here and now. They found cool, soothing metal, and closed around it in a viselike grip. It came again. It was exquisite. It was excruciating. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced. Rocking through me in wave after wave, my feeble body was racked through and through, causing me to arch up, my face contorted beyond recognition, a blood-curling, heart wrenching scream escaping from my already hoarse throat. All semblance of poise and dignity gone, I tossed my head from side to side as I continued this losing battle.
I slumped back, totally spent, a ragged doll. It still had me in its clutches, but now I was helpless against it, every single ounce of energy drained from my being. The light seemed so white and pure, I noted abstractly, my thoughts foggy and disorientated. Deeper and deeper i sunk into darkness, the pain which held me deeply in thrall already a distant and rapidly vanishing thing. I finally slipped into the warm comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
Fragments of memories and conflicting recollections swirled around in the recesses of my mind. I recalled the lust I felt and the passionate moments shared. The tender loving kisses planted that left me gasping for more, the gentle caresses that set the whole world on fire and unleased emotions of such intensity it was frightening from a figure of the past, the face already a vague memory. Then came deep sorrow and red hot anger that assailed me and shattered the bliss and happiness which had grown all too familiar. The sharp image of his back, silhouetted against the setting sun as he walked slowly and resolutely off into the distance, not a turn of his head back for one last look, nor a single backward glance of longing or reluctance. It was all a facade, a brutal lie. Underneath it all, only a cold, heartless cad. The aching gap of his departure was replaced by deep loathing. Images shifted again and i remembered the joy of realization of the change within me, tainted by the still hurting fact of the one gone, never to return. The looks of contempt and despise of people around, judging me, mentally casting me out. Their eyes reflecting disgust and even pity at my slowly changing body. The unconditional love and support of my mother, the only one who stood by me and accepted me for who I was amidst all the disapproval at the decision i made that would forever change my life.
I jerked awake, the whirlpool of confused shards of recollection and conflicting emotions coupled with the traumatic experience before my unconsciousness overwhelming me momentarily. Somehow, I had survived. Surroundings all too familiar greeted me and I calmed down somewhat. All I wanted now was to know the outcome and see the joy of my life. Someone came in. I turned around, the question speaking loudly in my eyes, but one look at her, and my heart broke. Tears welled up and my eyes brimmed with them, before I totally broke down. This journey had been so rough, but I always thought I would pull through. Now, it left me an utterly crushed person.
"I am sorry," the nurse whispered in a choked voice. "Your baby did not survive."


Another compo i wrote while i was teaching tuition and had nothing better to do. Ladidiaaaaa...

~ The Little Statue ~

There it stood, a relic of awesome power. It was exquisitely carved, though much of it's surface was chipped and scarred by the harsh passage of time. Many would look upon it and consider it grosteque and sinister, it's face a devious mask, mouth spread wide in a maniac grin, but those were just the opinions of the misguided and ignorant, not to be taken to heart. To us, this was a face contorted in agony, being the bearer of our pain. To us, it was smiling benevolently down at us, willing to forgive our sins and accept us into his warm embrace. To us, it was the core of our being, our very reason of existence. There it stood, a rerlic of awesome power, suffused with the belief and adoration of multitudes.
I turned my head around, it being the only movable part of me. My eyes took in the horde of estatic faces, all turned in my direction. Every hood had been pulled back and everyone stood motionless in their black robes, eyes raptured upon the sight before them. A single shaft of moonlight in the middle of the warehouse provided illumination to the raised platform where i was, creating a hauntingly serene, eerily tranquil picture of beauty. Hushed silence enveloped the growd, none wanting to disrupt this moment of perfectness and break the magic spell. I felt a brief flicker of amusement that such a huge crowd could make so little noise, every single faceless person like a little toddler awaiting his next sweet. The corners of my mouth twitched up into a slight semblance of a smile.
Surveying the crowd, my limbs bound tightly and slightly painfully to the crucifix, my naked body glistening with sweat in the humid, musky smelling building, i felt no shame nor embarrassment, for none looked at me in that light. Instead, all i could feel in their gaze was reverence, perhaps tinged with a little trace of envy, for all present knew that i was going to join HIM in his paradise soon and many longed to be in my place, yet feared to be in it at the same time. I shifted my eyes and let them fall lovingly upon it. The little statue, believed by all within my cult to be the medium where our great god resided, stood upon the altar.
The time had come. The sea of black robes parted and a solitary figure, cloaked in red, approached. In his hands carried a red velvet cushion, upon which rested an ornate dagger, most sacred of artifacts in our cult. I smiled a beatific smile at the sight of my destiny taking step after resolute step towards me, my entire poise barely concealing my anticipation. He climbed the steps to the platform, every single footstep echoing power and unyielding certainty in the utter silence. Standing before me, i looked into his eyes for the first time. They were red-rimmed and seemed almost maniac and buldging, but i knew that that was just religious fervor, for he was about to perform the most holy of acts and I, the most blessed one would be delivered into HIS warm embrace.
"It is time." He announced to the gathered throng. He took up the dagger, raised it above his head with both hands tightly gripped around the handle, and I could feel thousands sucking in and holding their breadths. I took one last look at the little statue and closed my eyes, enveloping myself in the calm of my inner peace. It was only momentarily punctuated by a short, sharp pain before i found real peace.


This title caught my eye while i was giving tuition so wrote this during the one hour while i was waiting for my student to finish his compo. My first compo in like.....hmm... 6 years? Wheeee..
Though i guess i would fail my 'O' Levels if i wrote this for my exams due to the objectionable material, but who gives a fuck about stuffy primp and proper faggot examiners!

~ The state of my Immortal Soul ~

There are billions of gods in this world.
They swarm as thick as herring roe. Most of them are too small to see, and never get worshipped, at least not by anything larger than bacteria, who never say their prayers and do not demand much in the way of miracles.
They are the small gods - the spirits of places where two ant trails cross, the gods of microclimates down between the grass roots, or somewhere under my bed:P. And most of them stay that way.

Because what they lack is belief.

A handful though, go on to greater things. Anything may trigger it. A sheperd, seeking a lost lamb, finds it among the briars and takes a minute or two to build a small cairn of stones in general thanks to whatever spirit might be around the place. A village caught in bad times prays to anything they deem can help alleviate their plight. Or a peculiarly shaped tree becomes associated with a cure for disease. Or someone got nailed to a crude cross and died and his corpse suddenly disappeared and ppl took it to be a Sign.
Because what gods need is belief, and what humans want are gods.
Often it stops there, but sometimes it goes further. More rocks are added, more stones raised, a temple is built on the site where the tree once stood, the shape of the crucifix became revered. The god grows in strength, the belief of its worshipers raising it upwards like a thousand tons of hydrogen rocket fuel. For a very few, the sky's the limit. And sometimes, not even that.
People said there had to be a Supreme Being because otherwise, how could the universe exist? And of course, there clearly had to be, a Supreme Being. But since the universe is a bit of a mess, it is obvious that the Supreme Being hadn't in fact, made it. If he HAD made it, he would, being Supreme, have made a much better job of it, with far better thought given, taking an example at random, to things like the design of the common nostril, or malays, or vegetables. Or, put it another way, the existence of a badly staged play only proves the existence of a humor-and-drama impaired director. You only have to look around to see that there is room for improvement almost everywhere.
This suggests that the universe had probably been put together in a bit of a hurry by an underling, or possibly authorized agents, while the Supreme Being wasn't looking, just like how incompetent SAF clerks do Enron-style paper gymnastics when the officer asks for something.
So, this goes to reason that it is generally not a good idea to address any prayers to a Supreme Being. It would only attact his attention and only cause trouble.
Yet, there are tons of lesser Gods all over the place. Gods come into being and grow, and flourish because they are believed in. Belief itself is the food of the gods. Any god could start small. Any god could grow in stature as its believers increased. And dwindle as they decreased. It is like a great big complicated game of snakes and ladders.

Where does my Belief come in?
Welll.......... I'd worship anything that'd put me ahead in life. My immortal soul up for grabs to the highest bidder

~ I Feel...... ~

I Feel.....
Nonchalant.
They say that 'Passion is the food of life' (By 'They' i really mean 'Me', coz its way cooler to talk about oneself in the third person). By living passionately can one truely live. It is the burning flame that fuels the soul, that provides energy to the engine of the body to propel oneself forward. The smoldering heat of that fire melts the cool countenance of strangers and makes them friends. The thirst for a worthwhile and meaningful life that gives meaning itself and makes that life worth living. To live each day to its full potential, to relish each event like it was going to be the last and make it feel like it was the first thing you have ever experienced. To cherish each and every friend and family for all their worth, and they are worth the world. When you laugh, you truely laugh, from the depths of your heart and soul. Because you felt like it. Not because the occasion warrants it, Not because it would be the politically correct thing to do, Not because some prick off the streets you had to humor because he had 'connections', money or just something needed at that point in time made a third rate (by third rate, i really mean rock bottom. Ranks somewhere around making a loud burp to the amusement of similar calibre morons) jokes that would make kindergarten kids cry. When u do something, u truely want to do it. Like make a small gift for a friend because he/she is your friend. Not because you could get something in return, Not because you could raise ur chances of getting laid, bang bang bang!, Not because it was expected of you. That aura, of earnest sincerity, of truthful innocence, of pure unadulterated passion, radiates off you like the appetizing heat that radiates off a freshly roasted suckling pig and rubs off on friends, family, acquaintances, strangers, passers-by, those whores standing along geylang lor 13.. i digress again.. just like the sweet aroma of afore-mentioned suckling pig makes you want to rip off huge chunks of its deliciously cooked body and bite into the supple meat still dripping with MSG saturated juices.
Ahh passion.. i had that once. Its a resource found abundant in fiesty bouncy youths fresh from the poulty farm who have not had the harsh realities of life taint and befoul the lavatory of innocence and found that the flush was spoilt. It is the metaphysical color of white, a blank sheet of paper everyone starts off with and hoped to paint the swirling beautiful colors of the rainbow on but found that the toilet wasnt exactly the right place to look for paint. My eyes sparkled with the delight of making lasting friendships bound by sincerity, forged with chains of trust and goodwill that not even a hot slut in a tasteless see-through dress could break up. My heart soared at the thought of fairytales, where true love was abundant, came in generous doses to all those who just asked and it generally ended with 'and they lived happily ever after', or various mongrel versions like 'and the ogres lived happily ever after with the irritating donkey'. The hair on my body stood on end in anticipation and excitement (no lewd thoughts pls, i'm in serious mode right now.. the porn comes later :P) at the challenges of work i will face and overcome with accomplished ease. Granted, the definition of 'work' has changed drastically over the years from 'Robot bashing good-bot 2nd Generation Optimus Prime' to 'Pokemon breeder with a definitely cooler dragon for a pet than Pikachu' to 'Bad Guy catching, Damsel in distress saving, with a 99% chance of getting laid, the 1% due to my conscious choice of not getting laid because there were 2 damsels in distress at the same time and i generally get to choose which to bed, cop inspired by one too many copper movies always with impossibly hot women in tattered clothes and various states of undress', to 'moderately well to do business man with an impossibly hot secretary, preferably in tattered clothes and various states of undress inspired by one too many office porn clips :X'. The job discription changed, but the eager anticipation of a bright hopeful future remained.
But i feel.... Nonchalant. Now.
No roaring fire that threatens to engulf anyone who ventures too close into my world of fun, pleasure, joy. No zest and no zen. All i have is my nonchalance. My indifference could have preserved meat for a year (i.e. cool indifference). Estee said to me that indifference is cool sometimes. Where u could switch off and not feel, thats good(Eh, been having selective memory these days so i couldnt remember the exact words, but thats the gist of it). But thats not something i can switch on or off at the flick of a switch. And sometimes it seems that neither do i seem to want to anymore. A person's past experiences make him/her what he/her now is, and memory lane sometimes feels like a bad road through a dark alley. And nonchalance is a safe retreat.

Life
I comprehend the stark difference between living, and existing. Yet, sometimes it is so hard to live, instead of exist. Ppl all around are all caught up in a fanatical, even maniac race to get the best grades, or make more money, depending on where their priorities lay. I myself have come to the realisation that grades do not determine your future. I do not make the world, i only try to survive in it, and so i'm guilty of subscribing to the mad money making group. But is that living? Where is that innocence i once had? Where are the firm principles i once thought should govern how ppl should behave and treat one another? What is conscience worth? Does doing anything via any means justify your actions as long as the end is that which you want? Sometimes i take a step back and look, and cant help but scorn. I scorn, yet i know that ideals cant bring the bread to the table. Another one of those ironies of life I have to live with.
True love
None. Pretty much exhausted this topic, so i'll just conclude that everyone is guided by their genitalia and every single emotion in the dictionary can be induced in one form or another by a glib mouth and smart thinking and well, a glib mouth :X I'm no relationship veteran, just a battered survivor. Had my ups, had my downs, some stuff i've been darn proud of, some better left unsaid. If you were looking at me right now, i would look... awkward, as if the bunched underwear of the past was tangling itself in the crotch of recollection :P. (YES YES, START FLAMING ME NOW U BIATCHES AND SLUTS AND PUSSIES!!! I'm SURE ALL OF U HAVE A LOT TO SAY JUST FROM THIS PARAGRAPH ALONE!) Why go through the trouble of inducing it in someone just to get laid? Most of the good ones are attached anyway, so its twice the effort and makes you twice as poor. :P
Friendship
One word. Dirt Cheap. Ok, make that two words. Doesnt have that same dark, sexy, brooding impact though :(. Where is the line you draw between friend and acquaintance? Where is that even finer line between friend and one-in-a-million buddy? Friendship is easily made, but hard to keep. Trust is hard to built, yet easily lost. Why make new ones anyway? Why go through the hassle of the introductory phase, the superficial exchanges, the indepth and often exhausting talks of the same stuff in general with ppl you know are just passerbys in your long and weary existence? One little memory after another burst open as silently as a mouse passing wind in a hurricane. Of friends come and gone. Of betrayals committed and forgiveness not given. Of friends i've made all through the years and struck off the list because of them failing various tests(whether they are receptive on ONS suggestions, kinky threesome fun yadda yadda :X), lacking core attributes i looked for(Sluttiness is always a very sought after attribute, 36C 24 36 body comes in a close second, yadda yadda :X), various henious acts unforgivable and unforgiven, or generally just by default, like me having my friendster account deleted due to inactivity (I'm stil pissed with that... no pics of friends' friends to mock at when i'm downright bored :().
Work
HA HA HA HA. Pls read entry one, and feel my pain.

And so i descend. Nonchalance is like the soot thats left after the burning log has run its course. Or the bones left after the guests are finished with the suckling pig, picked their teeth with their fingernails, wiped their fingernails on the tablecloth and left. Bloody guests. :P

~ Irony? ~

Back again with my monthly edition of: 'What a f___Ked up world this is' :P
Read on a friend's blog an entry on 'Things I want in a GUY'. Listed in non-alphabetical order, listings not according to order of priority, I present to you, the nonsensical delusional wishlist of the majority of the female teenage population ~~~ *drumroll*

1) driven- the passion he has for his life.

2) focused- he noes wat he wans for himself.

3) ambitious- he has plans for his future and noes how to go abt achieving it.

4) money- sounds very materialistic but well..he definitely has to be able to support himself and mi.

5) own transport- becoz i dunno how to drive, i think its nice if he can drive mi ard..think in this aspect i haf been spoilt by pple..u noe who...to be driven ard..

6) frenly- he got to be able to get along with my frens and family. thats a must.

7) caring- of coz he got to care for mi but well...not excessively too...theres a limit and i hope the guy i finally find noes the limit...

8) understanding- i am not an easy to get along girl..i am fiercely independent..he got to be able to accept it...and live with it..and yet..still be there for mi..haha i am greedy..so wat?

9) able to make mi laff- of coz not being a lame person or be a clown..but just able to make mi smile when i am down..and make mi happy when i am sad..and make mi laff..from the bottom of the heart...

10) faithful- haha once bitten twice shy..so the guy i end up with got to be faithful to mi loh..just like i will be faithful to him...ahha

Now, the irony part comes in... WHY does the wishlist of a typical male differ so drastically, even horrendously from that of a female? Most of the top 10s of a female do not even make it into our top 100s list. Some traits so honored and revered and sought after by the 'shes' just do not connect with us 'hes'.

'Things I want in a Girl'
1) Driven - NOT EXPECT TO BE DRIVEN AROUND ALL THE TIME :X
2) Focused - NOT FOCUSED WITH SPENDING ALL THEIR MONEY AS WELL AS OURS ON SHOPPING
3) Ambitious - NOT WANT BRADD PITT, TOM CRUISE, PIERCE BROSNAN yadda yadda when they are not JENNIFER ANISTON, NICOLE KIDMAN, SOME DUMB BLOND BIATCH with E CUP BOOBS and no BRAINS yadda yadda yadda:X
4) Money - She doesnt even have to GIVE us money, just not suck too much away from us, bloody leeches :X
5) Own Transport - U own a Posche/Ferrari/Diabo, we drive it
6) Frendly - Girls have an uncanny ability to not like all our friends but are friendly to all other guys we classify as jerks/dickheads... one of the unsolved mysteries of the world.
7) Caring - I need a lot of caring in bed. Tender loving care. Rough loving care. Handcuffed, whip swirling about loving care. Ahem.
8) Understanding - NO, You do NOT understand me. When i say i am busy and couldnt pick u up from work, i am busy and couldnt pick u up from work. It is NOT because i think u are a lazy biatch and deserve to take the train back home :X
9) Able to make me Laff - I'd laugh just by looking at you. Why wouldnt i when u have a face that gives every passing guy an erection and 36D 25 36 figure. WA HA HA HA HA. :X
10) Faithful - the girl i end up with got to be faithful to mi loh..just like i will be faithful to her... Why wouldnt i when u have a face that gives every passing guy an erection and 36D 25 36 figure. WA HA HA HA HA. :X
Sadly, thats the closest we can get to the female version. :PHave i mentioned that i love being a guy?

~ At Night ~

I lay sedately on my king coil bed, enjoying the feel of the silken blanket on my naked skin, listening to the tranquil silence of the night, admiring the beams of moonlight filtering in, bathing the room in their ghostly white radiance... the sound of an occasional car passing by, the playful shadows dancing around the room, the music of sinful majong playing a few rooms down, the annoying croak of the amazingly fat lizard in my room... all these registered on my consciousness and i relished the peace and serenity around me............. For about one minute. I sat up grudgingly and clicked the mouse. Michael Jackson's 'Smooooth Criminal' blared on ( Fook u if u dare insult my taste in music. Kiddy molesters rock! :X ). The neighbours started to complain, the sound of majong got drowned out, the fat lizard scurried away to hide in fright .... ahhh.. everything back to normal. Freakn playlist had to run out on me.
I took a deep puff on my ciggy and a long swig of booze and sighed deeply. <--- That was my self-delusional ego talking. In reality, i sucked on my chocolate coated yan yan stick and took a long swig of plain water.. urgh. I stretched languorously and my stomach growled in protest. Darn, time for lunch... or my biological equivalent of lunch. I grabbed my helmet and keys and opened the door. I contemplated whether to turn off my radio and decided to be nice to my neighbours. Afterall, i already strew my box of Long Johns and its half eaten contents all over their doorstep this evening :X. Within seconds, I was riding towards the nearest 24hr coffeeshop. The cool breeze hit me like a madman with a sledgehammer and i shivered uncontrollably. Wheres a hot(in more ways than one) slut with a warm embrace when u need one :P.
After an uneventful 5 minutes with nothing much but cold cold wind and lewd thoughts to pass my time, I reached the coffeeshop and proceeded to order my takeaway food. Out of the corner of my eye, i spotted them. He was twice the man I was (Literally), with a face area as large as the United States. She could make a man in lust turn gay. Many questions came to my mind as i looked at them. 1) How does he have his arm around her colossal waist and stil manage to eat his food? 2) How could they carry on a conversation at this proximity without noticing the spit flying from their mouths and drenching each other in a shower of rain? 3) Is she not wearing a bra? 4) Is she REALLY not wearing a bra? 5) Is that her bra sticking out of his pocket? 6) Is that REALLY her bra sticking out of his pocket?... I digress again..
Another reaffimation of my theory of relativity stares me in the face ( I might write about <--- in a later entry.) and i conclude that i am a genius. Time to go back, eat and get ready for bed, its almost 5am anyway.


P.S. Everything was ficticious. Hur hur hur *Spastic laughter*. So for you horny biatches out there, NO THERE WAS NO BRALESS MONSTER. I was just bored and trying out some first person descriptive writing :X

~ Lots and Lots and Lots of it ~

What is the most abundant thing in the world?

IS it silicon oxide(is it silicon oxide? My chem teacher was a balding pork bellied old fool who spews saliva as he talks, drenching first row and second row students alike indiscriminately. My forte was history, my history teacher was a hot slut with big boobs. Point made. :X) aka the fine grains of stuff u find at beaches where hot women in skimpy-to-the-point-of-ripping or make-u-wanna-rip-them-off-point bikinis walk, roll and lie in and which stick to their healthy deliciously brown sun baked glossy skin and just makes u have the urge to commit some base, immoral, lewd, sinful crime... *cough*.. i Digress.
IS it Oxygen? The stuff that gives sustenance to every living creature, moral or corrupt, on this earth that we walk on? The matter that those hot women in skimpy-to-the-point-of-ripping or make-u-wanna-rip-them-off-point bikinis breathe in and makes their bosoms heave and sigh, up and down, causing involuntary spasms to half the human population who have dicks and 1/4 of the human population who do not have a dick but think they have one? *cough* I digress again :X
IS it H2O? Water that falls in the form of torrential rain, enveloping the world in a shower of sky juice. Water that mingles with soot, dust and smoke to blanket the world in a dreamlike mist. Water that drip off the leaves of trees at dawn as sweet morning dew. Water that glistens off the pearly white skin of women in the midst of various unspeakable exertions.... *cough*

Nope. The most abundant, plenteous, copious, bounteous thing in the world is.. CRAP.
Bullshit, lies, guile, misstatements, slander, subterfuge, they all come under the big umbrella of papa CRAP. 90-99% of what a person says in his/her lifetime -----> Crap.
Ill conceived theories and hypotheses of life, women, and the world in general, CRAP. (Yes, i have alot of those, i dont deny they are crap. But try refuting if u can. Hrrmph! :P)
Sweet nothings whispered in a tender loving voice in order to get a girl to lose her panties, CRAP. (Yes, i have alot of those too, many have lost their panties, but i haven found any, damn where have all those panties gone <-- more crap. ^_^)
Junk in colossal textbooks required to be memorized and regurgitated but never appropriately applied to the real world, CRAP.
Empty ideology spoken with firm conviction in a moment of brainless self contemplation, CRAP.
Lame excuses to cover up for one's misdeeds and misgivings, CRAP.

Few billion people in the world, trillions, zillions, gazillions of crap produced everyday. Crap wins hands down. I've just produced another pageful of it. Hurray.

~ Partial Lobotomy and Me ~

Relationships & Partial Lobotomy.
Two seemingly different ideas with no signs of convergence anywhere in sight but that might just be PERFECT together. Like Chocolate and Peanut Butter. Like TV and Computers. Like Claudia and Valerie (I meant that it would be PERFECT having 2 girls in my arms, one on each side, enjoying some sensual erototic threesome fun, so u biatches dont even try to guess who these new names are coz they are entirely ficticious:P).
Think how much easier it would all be, if there was some swift surgical procedure to whisk away all the ugly memories and mistakes, and leave only the fun trips and special holidays. How we can preserve the candy-coated, disgustingly sweet and false sense of happiness of a relationship and get rid of its bitter aftertaste with a simple poke in the brain.
But until that day arrives, what can we do?
Rely on the same needle-point philosophy of 'Forgive and Forget'? And even if a couple or an individual can manage the 'forgiveness', has any ever really conquered the 'forgetness'?
An act of infidelity. A spiteful retaliation. A brainless comment.
Everyone has the capacity in him/her to hurt, to inflict pain, emotionally, physically, spiritually?, etc, and these leave lasting inexpungible scars somewhere. We might forgive them for their pig-headedness, their lack of control over their genitals, or their absence of a brain, but at times when u least expect, some painful incident lurking within the recesses of your mind creeps out of its hiding place and pounds on u unawares. You feel a deep pang of sadness. Or a sharp stab of anger. Or maybe a dull ache of disappointment. And you repress it yet again, slapping that recollection into submission, give it a kick in the butt and shut it back in its cage somewhere deep down. Until the next time it breaks out.
So many monsters deep down, so little space for them.
Can u ever really forgive, if u can't forget?
I can't. I'm a Scorpio. Its hard enuff for us to forgive, much less forget. We're vindictive, spiteful, and we prick like thorn.
Prick me, and i'll stab both ur hands with various exquisitely sharp contraptions. Betray me, and i'll exact sweet revenge tenfold. Be unfaithful and u shall not have the chance to enjoy the pleasures of procreation no more! Rawrrrr~~
I think i really need partial lobotomy sometimes. :X

~ U're My Inspiration ~

I have some Serious Inspiration Issues.
Or Lack of it. Code red. Code redder than Red. Neon Red. Those kind that flashes, twirls and brightly illuminates with the accompanyment of sirens.
I wanna write brilliant, witty, droll, enchantingly engaging, whimsically comical, thought invoking, 'wow' inducing, ego boosting, skirt dropping(chicks getting so turned on by my intellectual genius they just wanna drop their skirts and bed me) entries.
But i'm dry. My brain juices are like the final trickles of a stream drying up during a long drought. The last grain of sand falling through an hourglass. The last withered leave floating down from a shedding tree as Winter assails the land. The last crackle of fire from a smoldering log.
It never fails to amaze me how people, writers, journalists, can go on and on and on about a single topic for one, two, three pages. I'm astounded at how that particular girl i mentioned in my previous entry (this horny biatch who has a popular blog where horny bastards peruse and mentally masturbate to her pic) can write a whole page just talking about Orgasms. I'm impressed at how Maddox (this American who has one of the highest web traffic in the world just talking poking hilariously crude fun at everything) can write such side-splitting humor on inconsequential topics like how big his balls are. I'm appalled at how Mr. Brown(this journalist who's witty and also has his own blog online with a cult following) can write one page columns for Today newspaper everyday(is it everyday? not sure bout this), even though he uses materials which i dispise and personally consider socially and mentally unacceptable(way overkill on the NS jokes). I'm bamboozled at how a certain Ella can write entry after entry, multiple entries in a single day, wave after wave of thoughts and feelings down.
These ppl have brain juices the likes of cascading waters of a waterfall. If i drilled a hole in their head their brains would be spurting out like a geyser, hitting the ceiling and spashing the room a delightful red.
SO i look around for some mental arousal, some spark of genius, some intellectual stimulus, seeing as thats how most writers get inspirations for their works.
Nope, nothing at skool. Only feeling i get invoked nowadays in skool is that of rage. Its not even anger anymore... Anger which has levelled up, key in the secret cheat to get invincibility mode (up down left right A B A B select start) = Rage. I could try to write about it but most probably if i start i wouldnt be able to finish my entry before i have to be physically restrained from pounding on the computer screen repeatedly with the mouse or keyboard or maybe gnawing on some innocent passerby's hand who has already been beaten senseless by me and lying in a bloody pulp on the floor(Mental note to myself, NEVER use my own computer to type school related entries).
Nope, nothing in my love life. What love life? I could write stale topics on love etc, but seeing as how my views are socially and morally unacceptable to many, bordering on soft porn, i'd just cause many of u to either leave entries disagreeing with me or uncontrollably doubling over in orgasmic spasms and maybe some uninhibited fondling of urself which would undoubtably do severe damage to ur reputation (but wonders to your sex life:X) if u made the mistake of reading my entries during work or in school (well, if u were home then i'm happy that u're deriving pleasure in more ways than one from my entry, but the risk is too great, no? :X). <--- My my, my longest sentence yet.
Nope, nothing about friends around me. Well, there's alot happening to friends around me(DAMN U FARKERS! WHY IS EVERYONE MORE HAPPENING THAN ME! I SHALL SMITE YE WITH MA HOLY FIST!), but taking into consideration my language and the sharp, unforgiving tone which i write in, commenting on my friends' lives would only reduce the lifespan of the friendship, them having to be physically restrained from pounding on the computer screen repeatedly with the mouse or keyboard or maybe gnawing on some innocent passerby's hand who has already been beaten senseless by them and lying in a bloody pulp on the floor and all...
Nope, nothing from the Banglahs either. I'm making way too many racist jokes already, and i'm repenting :X (NOT).
Oh GOD, Give me something to write about!

~ What is The Most Beautiful Thing On Earth? ~

What is the most beautiful thing on earth?
Some reply, "the rainbow", "the lovely sunset", "the clear blue sky", "the glittery stars at night that makes it seem like u are in an omnimax theatre", "the sound of waves crashing against the shore, the breeze blowing wet, salty grime in your face, revitalizing ur spirit" yadda yadda yadda. One guy even said 'Women'. Bravo. Definitely not World Peace.
I read a blog recently and she said that as she got on in age and maturity, the more she found that her answer to that question would be "An Orgasm". The most intense and beautiful expression of love. The rarity of it due to selfish men(Helloooo, we aim to please, contrary to popular belief. Its the dead fishes who are all about lying there and enjoying that are becoming a big social problem :X ) Then she goes on to write a third rate GP essay listing the pros and cons of an orgasm. How endorphines are released, making u a happy person, how the processs of getting an orgasm is goood exercise, bla bla bla.
I feel she's just sex crazed, that lusty biatch. An orgasm is easy. Ever heard of self indulgent pleasure? It doesnt cause blindness, horrendous disfiguring diseases and every tom, dick and pussy is doing it. All u need is some 5 mins (30 for me, i've got good self control :X), a strong arm, or finger depending on the gender, and some lewd, lascivious, wanton imagination. Voila! An orgasm is definitely not rare. I generously dish out big 'O's whenever i have the chance. :X Girls are generally much more fortunate nowadays then in the sweet ole days where its all about 'Me, Me and Me' , so quit complaining sluts! :X
So whats the most beautiful thing on earth?

Contentment.
Tranquility in my inner self.
The state of equilibrium where i'm in harmony with the world.
Just sitting there and feeling like u got this little halo above ur head and that u've achieved enlightenment coz nothing bothers u and affects u no more.
The fine line u tread on sometimes and feel totally at peace but events around u always manage to upset, and push u off that tenuous stripe of serenity.

So easy to describe, yet so hard to attain. How many people can honestly claim that they are content? Emancipated from the temptations of materiality, freed from the endless pursuits of career, wealth and pride, liberated from the chains that bind the heart, relieved from boredom, lethargy, indifference, anxiety, jealousy, resentment, regret or lust.
Thats the most beautiful thing on earth to me. A week's hospitalization has given me this realization, and i have ambled on that little fine line many times this week, but i could at best keep a filmsy grip on it before boredom assults me.
Ahhh... i seem out of sorts no? I'm talking about things that make u go 'awwwwww' ? Must be the after effects of the medicine :X

~ Love is Sex in a nice little suit ~

What is L.O.V.E?
Why does this 4 letter word generate so much joy, happiness, melancholy, sadness, ache, pain, cramps, spasms fits... etc?
What miraculous powers does this tiny word have to sire a whole multitude, spectrum of human emotions?

Everyone has their own unique view on L.O.V.E.
Some equate it with a surge of adrenalin on seeing a species of the opposite sex, sometimes same, sometimes a different species altogether. (Bestality turns some weird ppl on).:X
Some corelate love with companionship, the nice, confortable feeling of being with someone u feel absolutely at ease with. (Just go get a dog.)
Others wilfully fantasize love to be a fairytale, being swept off their feet, bowled over by overwhelming feelings in the groin area, wonderful out-of-this-world-Farking-shiok bed tussle, living happily everafter naked. (Wake up, wake up.)

I could go on and on, but this is My view of l.o.v.e
Love is sex in a nice little suit. Complete with bowtie, bouquet of flowers, and a box of chocolates.
Look at the movies. Guy meets girl, Sparks, Seduction, Sex. Suddenly both parties are willing to die for each other to be together. Wheres the bonding point in this union. THE SEX!
Look at famous literature. Shakespear. Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth. Guy sees girls. Flowery, grandiloquent, euphuistic, flamboyant descriptions on the contours of her waist, the heave and fall of her bosom, the tender supple pearly white flesh reflecting beads of sweet temptious sweat... Guy falls in LOVE. ----> He just freakn wants to bang her there and then! Bang bang bang. THE SEX.
Look at real life, harsh cruel reality. Guy meets girl. "ooooohh... Shes sooooo chio! "(for ah bengs). "wah lao, u see her, her figure is THERE one lor"(for the average chinese speaking guy). "Oh my god, look at her.. Shes a Goddess!"(for the rest of those freakn AA english speaking, complete with fake slang and accent ppl). THE SEX!
I rest my case.

~ Being a M.A.N ~

We M.E.N certainly have it hard these days.
Gone are the days when the title of 'Man' is automatically conferred on u when u hit puberty, or age 21, whichever comes first.
Gone are the days when being a man entails being confortably chauvinistic, head of the family, commanding, authoratative, imposing, hollering at the women, slapping them into line, overall big fuck... those were the days.. *Sigh* :P
Gone are the days when being a man equates getting a woman at the snap of his fingers, tilt of his eyebrows or simply touching her hand and shes yours for keeps. Multiple hand touch and u're a war hero. Polygamy is dead. BooHoo.
We M.E.N have it hard these days. Its the 21st century ppl, the century of mellowing out, or get out. On our shoulders descends the heavy burdens and huge complexities of being a 21st century man.
In the past, we could get away with hollering for our food, telling women to fucking shut their trap up or she'll eat my fist, murder even, if u just claim the women is a slut. Today, say anything remotely sexist, wait, say anything even remotely resembling that u are implying that u're sexist and u're a MCP. You plunge from hero, to zero. Hello social outcastism. You're practically the same status as the freakin banglahs along the road(YAY, managed to squeeze something racist in).
So we mellow down, we treat them as equals. But no.. treating them as equals means u're not gentlemanly. U're bloody uncouth, crude and dont know how to treat girls right. No, u cant be sexist, or MCP, but u need to treat girls right. Hello social outcastism again. Welcome back. You're starting to become a regular here arnt u.
So we go the S.N.A.G route. We feeeeel. We seeense. We empathizzze. We're she-males. We become pussies. 'He's so sensitive. I cant stand it, why cant he be a man.' Hello social outcastism. De javu. My my, you've been awarded PR status in this class already.
Tip of the iceberg really. Today, every horny dick has to have a semblance of what is mentioned above, or at least act the part. Admit with pride that you're the M.A.N of the ancients, and u can wear ur virginity around u with pride too.:P So they act the part, throw in some product differentiation, cost leadership, and price competitiveness for good measure, and let the wo.M.A.N choose, like whores in a meathouse lining up for prospective clients.
So much for machoism, bravado and a strong fist.
I'll just turn ghey, thank you very much. Fuck off. :X

~ Warped Insights into the Harsh Realities of Life.3 ~

Where are all the Single, Pretty, Sweet little things called Women? Zero... Zilch... Kaput.
Where's LOVE? Zero... Zilch.. Kaput.

Wake up people, there ain't no longer such a thing as a Single, Available, Pretty women. They're pretty much snapped up, taken, and f___ed senseless(Crude but true, sorry :X). There ain't not a single one left standing. Zero... Zilch.. KAPUT. (Now all of u know where my nick comes from)
Face it, this is a new era. Women are in control. They are empowered. They are empowered with the right to choose. Every moderately decent female has at least a few flies around her at any given point in time. In fact, flies start agglomerating around them at the tender age of 14, give or take 2 years depending on how fast they hit puberty and start to have boobys.
Assume that every adequate female you meet is attached, married, bought or cohabiting, and you wont be too far off the mark. Those who dont belong to the above are either grossly lacking in the looks department, insane, lesbian, or choose not to have a relationship. Either way, no luck for you horny bastards in the latter category :X
So, whats the solution to this dire situation. Only one: KOPING! (GF stealing for the benefit of those who are impaired in the dialects department)
Its a pretty good solution realli. Firstly, there are less flies around an attached gal than a girl in the single, transition phase. Second, attached girls are a dime a dozen, easy to find, so u can take your pick. Less effort, Less competition. :P You gota have extreme luck to even meet a girl whos in that single, transition phase.
Why do i call it the Single, transition phase? Well, its self explainatory! the Single phase IS a transition phase for girls. Once single, the hounds, the flies, the hyenas all converge, locked on their targets. I dont believe for even a split second a girl can keep her word when she says she " Wanna remain single for now" Bullshit. :P
Yes, its the onli way to survive and carryout our god-given right at procreation. One man's misfortune is another man's fortune. Its a dog eat dog world out there. Nah, i'm just justifying this horrible deed. :P Alas, its a vicious circle. I dont make the world, I just live in it :X
Plain Sophism i know, But its MY diary! Rawrr!

~ Warped Insights into the Harsh Realities of Life.2 ~

Problems.
Every f___er in the world has problems. No matter how Lucky, Rich, Powerful anyone is, they still have this miraculous ability to squeeze some problems out to justify that their miniscule, miserable existance isn't perfect. Irony Irony.
Rock stars probably worry bout how they are gona perform in the orgy held intheir mansion tonight, or perhaps whom to invite; Bill gate's probably worrying bout where to spend his money on, lets see.. buy up a football club and make his dream team, or perhaps nuke Malaysia; Carmen Electra's perhaps worrying how to create the next oppourtunity to 'unintentionally' expose her boobs tastefully etc etc.
The plebeian folks of the real world have problems closer to the heart like how much their job sucks(ella), how their grades are not up to standard(dewei), how money comes in too slowly(Kl, mua, and all the rest of u poor bitches out there), how come they dont have any gals they are interested in, how come they DONT KNOW WHICH GIRL THEY wanna choose (AHEM), how little alphabets there are in the english language to tag their numerous conquests *cough* (Sorry, the bitter me just had to add this in :P)

No one's content. No one's problem free. Well frankly, I dont give a fuck.
I don't even know why i'm writing this. :X

~ Warped Insights into the Harsh Realities of Life.1 ~

I guess its generally agreed that it goes something like:
'Open-minded' <-- good
'Judgemental' <-- bad
But are we being too quick to judge 'judgement' itself?
Perhaps judgement is not so much an instantaneous snap reaction, but an early detection and warning device.
Perhaps judgement is crucial and critical to prevent ppl from making decisions which they will regret.
I'm judgemental, and proud of it. I have an opinion of most things.
I see a banglah on the street and judge him: "BLOODY BANGLAH"
I dont try to be openminded, get to know him then conclue that he's a BLOODY BANGLAH. Pure waste of my time. :X
I see a strand of vege on my plate and judge it: "Fooking piece of vege SUCKS"
I dont try to be openminded, give the vege a try, puke my guts out becoz i experienced a gagging feeling once it entered my mouth, THEN conclude that its a FOOKING piece of Sucky Vege. Pure waste of my time again (Pure waste of my lunch/dinner too since they came out with the vomit).

So there, Point made. Judgemental is GOOT. Saves you time, energy, and possibly your lunch too sometimes.
I believe most ppl have at least a mild opinion about most things/people/incidents yadda yadda. I just go with my gut. If i meet someone whom i think is swell, he/she remains swell until proven otherwise. If i meet someone whom i think is a prick, that prick remains a prick until that prick loses its erection. Pun fully intended. Banglahs will forever remain bloody banglahs, cant change that train of thought, sorry. :X

~ I Just Wanna Screw Around ~

Screw Valentine's day.
Screw those lovey dovey couples hanky pankying in the dark corners of Suntec roofgarden and other Hot spots of hot heavy action coz they are too cheapskate to get a motel.
Screw all those dick loving sluts and pussy hungry dickheads who will be frolicking and fornicating to their hearts' content on that day.
Screw society's misconceived perception of Valentine's Day being a Day to show your loved one that u care when it is nothing more than a commercial gimmick to push the price of useless roses to $20bucks a piece, empty ur wallets on presents for girls who arnt worth half of what u paid for, just so that u could get lucky and laid.
Screw the Malays in my marketing class. ( I am still trying to get over it)
Screw all you people who read my previous entry and laughed coz it meant that u didnt feel my pain.

~ Can You Feel My Pain ~

I H.A.T.E tutorials with a capital F.
Tutors
They're a bore, a pain. 2 hour sessions of nonsensical ramblings by balding, porkbellied professors with bad breadth. They drone on and on in monotone, lulling u to sleep. As i cling on desperately to the last shreds of consciousness, one stark question stares me in the face: "WHY THE ___k AM I ___king HERE WASTING MY ____king TIME!"
Tutorial Mates
I take a look around the room. 'My My', i think to myself, 'its discovery channel' : Walkng With Dinosaurs! How, Why, When, Where did NTU Accountancy get the reputation of having the prettiest girls? Pretty my foot. My ass. My All-the-rest-of-my-anatomy-that-offends. One glance around the cold tutorial room made me even colder and suddenly, being crucifed and burnt in a blazing fire seemed a nice, warm and welcoming alternative than staying a second more in Jurassic park.
Lessons
Saturday. Marketing Tutorial. Crawl, Climb, Tumble out of bed and drag my heavy body, heart and soul to class at ____king 8.30A.M. Pisses me off right from the start. Deep breadths, Alex. It would be an interesting lesson i tried to console myself as i stepped into the class. My Jaw dropped. My eyes bulged. My veins protruded. HALF THE _____KING CLASS WAS BANGLAH. Anger with a magnitude and intensity I can only describe as Titanic, Galactic, Gargantuan, Behemothic welled up and it was all i could do to resist screaming like a mad man into the room and impaling each and every nigger with a deliciously sharp stake. Thank god my group was the only group without a single nigger, else not only would violent objections be raised, violence itself would happily join the party. 2 hours of endurance, murmurred cursing and short intakes of breadths marked the end of my first Marketing tutorial.

CAN U FEEL MY PAIN????

~ Blood ~

Blood. The ties of blood is what makes family, family.
Your pillar of unconditional support.
Your bastion of strength.
Your enless source of love, encouragement, recognition, protection, whatever the hell u want.

Committed career suicide by shoving your work up the demanding, mean, calculative, god-damn-just-rub-u-the-wrong-way boss's ass? Family is there for you.
Betrayed by superficial worms who are a poor excuse for a friend? Family is there for you.
Dumped by that cold hearted dick loving bitch you got together with coz she begged u to girl? Family is there for you.

Yes yes, my mother could be a naggy old hag when she puts her mind to it and irritate the hell out of my just by constantly repeating what she has to say ten times in my ear coz she has the misconception that i'm deaf somehow.
Yes yes, my sister could be an irritating slut who hogs the remote to the only source of entertainment i have in the house and watch sucker cheesy cheap taiwanese romance soap flicks whose sole reason why they make any money at all is by banking in on no-life idol loving, cute face chasing teenage girls who go weak at the knees and bend over in throes of self induced pleasure .
Yes yes, my brother could be a punk and make me wanna choke slam him on the ground and put him in a sleeper lock just by constantly bugging me to buy him new games.
But i love them. Why? Coz they are family.
I'm gona bitch-slap u han, if u call me a pussy! Yes Yes, I'm a bitch Estella Lois. :P
To anyone who reads this entry and has this gagging feeling and a deathwish to leave a derogatory note, i'm gona make you swallow ur vomit back from the ground after stepping on them :X

Why the sudden outpour and declaration of love you might ask? Coz i just watched 'Stuck on You'.
Lame lar i know... but i'm bored, i just finished writing an assignment i ____ing cannot be bothered with and crapped through, and i needed to write something which i feel good about to negate all the lies and crap i put into the other one. :P

Anyway, the show was one hellofa movie. Kudos to the script writer and it sure deserves the good praise and positive reviews it got. Here are some classic highlights:

1. Bimbo playing with a dog sitting beside one of the twins whose filling out a crossword puzzel.
Mathew: hmmm.. whats a three letter word for 'Man's best friend'?
Bimbo: HMMM, i dunno.... 'T.I.T'?

2. Cher whos acting as Cher whos talking to Mathew whos missing his siamese twin brother, Bob coz they got an operation and seperated.
Cher: I totally understand how you feel. I'm feeling the same thing coz my boyfriend just went to college. (shes a paedophile who has a 15year old as a bf)

3. Same scene with Cher apologizing to Mathew for treating them rottenly when they first got to know each other.
Cher: I'm sorry. I should have treated you two better. I have been a Bitch with a capital C.

Ok, i got bored. Screw you cheapskates. Spend the six bucks and go watch the movie! :P