God Thinks I'm Abel

Today just before we headed down to Cal's party, a sample of the gang came down for some predrinks. It was all civilised and nice until, around the time we finished the first bottle of red, someone bit another individual in the group on the arm. It then sparked off a chain reaction of biting as separate people started greedily grabbing another's arm and sinking their carnivorous canines into their flesh. It was all pain and games until I got bitten by the idiotic melvin. Twice.

This is the kind of thing that looks right off a Straits Times article on maid abuse.

Yea, I think when you reach the point of wanting to ingest your friend or inflict sadistic pain on them you've been seeing too much of each other. Or the mcdonald's delivery dude is just taking too long.

Anyway, I got up at my usual time, 4pm and felt really bored so I decided to hit the roads and do some cruising just to occupy my time. By that I mean go for my driving lesson and take the instructor's car out on the roads. I wasn't really listening to what he was saying most of the time ,I just stepped on the accelerator and scared the beejeezus out of the poor uncle. He was already sick,but everytime I came close to flying off a curb or something he would hack and let out a relieved sigh that went HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. Haha,these driving people make me laugh.

I might do it again tomorrow.

BECAUSE SINGAPORE ROCKS...

I don't exactly know how many times I have said I find Singapore so fricking boring. I reckon it's been more times Paris Hilton has flashed her wonky eyes at the camera and definitely more times than Lindsay Lohan has been labelled 'fire crotch' by Brandon Davis. Ultimately however, I must admit, Singapore does rock in its own way (albeit on a mini scale but rocking by any other word is still rocking).

Firstly, it rocks because orchard road is so pretty at night. I mean seriously, where else can you enjoy a mocha frap undisturbed, in such awesome weather ,surrounded by such awesome sights. It's almost like a compromise between Japan, London and New York. It's got the IT thing going on like Tokyo, the bustle like London and the amazing-zing coffee's like New York.

Plus, our mcdonald's here can't be beat. I'm a new addict of the golden arches so seeing a nice bright 24hr sign shining like a beacon of light amidst the bustle really puts a smile on my face. The mcdonald's here beats anything we could ever hope to have in Chelters man, and it's so clean.... but fatsdom here we come! PIEW!AFTERNOON DELIGHT!

Everybody comes to worship under the golden arches :D

On top of all that, the service here is second to none. Where can you get a scoop of amazing ice cream served with a smile like this :D That's right, all you none believers, people over here actually walk around looking like :D No jokes! Yes, they may look abit freaky but ultimately, it's the thought that counts! The customer is always right, no matter what. Yup, you could have killed their family and fed their dogs your puke and they'd still be smiling out of their asses. Ahh... Singapore rocks.

Service with a smile (I'm sure she means :D Got her on a bad day probably)

I'm just kidding, that's my sister and she's probably crapping in her pants with the absolute mind-blowing thrill of seeing me pop by her 'workplace'. And yes, she is YOUNGER, although by her constipated smirk and scrunched up look she has added a few years to her face. I keep telling her to :D

Singapore is hot because it has funny people in it. Like this dude over here whose boss is totally crushing on him and adds smileys at the end of all his reports. This is the kind of :D I was talking about, people over here walk around like :D aaallllllll the time I tell you! And they all draw amazing goldfishes in their spare time. Indeed, we are a very talented bunch.

Of course a place is not purely defined by its coffee,weather, mcdonalds and arty people. When I say Singapore rocks, it's also because it's normal people make the clubbing scene just so amazing-zing. I love one -for-ones. They make this world go round. Of course, sharing and caring contributes to a certain extent to the roundness of this world. Like when me Anna and Anne did 4 jugs in about 45 minutes. No jokes. After that, Singapore became an even more awesome, unicorn-loving place. Also, the decor in some clubs are hot too which only reiterates what I have mentioned before. Singapore rocks just as much as Ben Affleck sucked in Pearl Harbour (if that makes any sense at all).

Come on, seriously now, where can you find a merrier band of folk right outside your doorstep than Singapore.

Yep. In conclusion, there are times where we seriously <3>

This is the entry where boredom rules and the internet is king.
Well not exactly King but it does help me through the long stretches of afternoon that insist on going on and on and on and on......

Without futher ado Ladies and Gentlemen... I present my

'TOP5 Of Everything that means something when you are as bored as I am' List of all things frivolous and entertaining.

TOP 5 BEST WEBSITES:

5. PINK IS THE NEW BLOG
Lots of pictures, fabulous celebrity gossip with lots and lots of PINK!!!

4. BRYAN BOY

The most shameless specimen of gay pride to show up this side of the planet. And yet strangely enough, I wanna be him. Go figure. But till then.......

3. THE SUPERFICIAL (because you're ugly)

Dripping with sarcasm and filled with big big pictures (some incriminating ,others to a lesser extent). It says everything and more.

2. WWTDD (What Would Tyler Hilton Do?)

Equally tongue-in-cheek, SUE funny at bits. How can it not be number 2??

1. CRACKED (humour,parody, satire and more!!)

TADAAA! Deservedly number one, this website is filled with goodies to keep us homebodies trembling with glee. ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAIIINED??? YES WE ARE. Well, I am at least, which is what's most important. Check out the Will Ferrel bits,the 8 Important Lessons Learned from '80s Cartoons and my favourite, The 5 Most Obviously Drug-Fueled TV Appearances Ever.

Doing a Screencap of this website just won't do it justice so I had to whittle it down to a few faces to say it all.

or maybe...

But come now, a site by any other face is still as sweet. Presenting Cracked, a totally lush state of mind to be in.

WARNING: HIGHLY UNGLAM AND INCRIMINATING PICTURES

A general rule of thumb is when you are on antibiotics, you don't drink.
Operating on common sense, one should also know not to smoke when your throat feels like it has been mauled by a rabid siberian tiger.
Unfortunately for me, I have no self-control.

Last night,had S,L and A over for a few drinks before heading over to MOS. L's eyes were giving him problems, in fact they looked really infected so he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes for the camera.

It was pretty boring in Smoove intially,but it picked up. S and L were getting impatient with the lethargic beats so we headed over to check out the scene in Gallery Hotel. Broke and disappointed we found our way back to MOS.

At the Vip area, one of our favourite spots simply because it's so much more civilised.

Francis goes 'NOOOOOO'

Like I said. It's civilised...

It was a pretty fun night, even though we left early at like 3. Just wanted to upload my pics into my computer so I have something to look at when I go back to London.

Oh, and this is pretty delayed but on National Day a really bored Ivan and I decided to bake some National Day cupcakes. I know,lame, and it was hardly conceived in a nationalistic spirit. It's meant to be more ironical than patriotic.

There's one with a HDB flat made out of Hello Panda's, one with LKY's face and yea....a whole lot of cool stuff.Plus,they were yummy (albeit a little bit too sweet).

It's hard concentrating on what I am about to say with strange men walking around my room. They could at least keep it down.There might be children reading this, so I should specify... Strange men fixing the light bulbs in my room. If they were to cause such a ruckus just screwing and unscrewing *ahem*, they could at least have sent less 60year old men and more fit Satoshi Tsumabuchi lookalikes.

Anyway, onto more important matters ,my Alevel results weren't as huge a catastrophic disaster as I had expected them to be. I am happy but it is ironic that I am too ill to do anything but stay home and eat ice cream. Yep, I celebrated by staying at home with Anne watching tv, eating dinner with the gramps and indulging in a sweet little bowl of cookie dough. Last night was celebrated in sensible proportions. Not that fun. But i'm glad I survived to tell the tale and Anne was there for me.

When I finally stop coughing/hacking/choking/gagging, I will arrange something with the new fortune I have acquired simply by just churning up A's. (Up till now I honestly have no idea how that happened). BEAUTIFUL!.

>>A big thonkers to all those who called/ texted me to offer their moral support, I really appreciated it y'all!!! :) Especially to Anne who came down much earlier on in the day just to sit by me and lend her support <3>>>congrats to K for passing her driving test! You're my future Chauffeur yo! haha XX


PopTart's Poster:
Something that promises independent-minded groupies, and basic 'rebel against the machine' type individuals, (hopefully those bold enough to don a shade of lipstick darker than their 'candyfloss' lipgloss)...

Just doesn't deliver. But anyway, it's cool advertising ,really it is. Now to convince the 'two kewl for skewl ' post JC people that attending events like these with taboo-esque advertising and neon colour schemes,does not make them hardcore by association. -_-

People HAVE thought they messed up their papers and manage to survive (with A's ) right?
RIGHT?
omg. i'm spazzing out.
heart clenching.breathing staggered. vision blurry. heartbeat- irregular.
omg omg i'm spazzing out.
anxiety attack.



3 seconds have passed.
Anxiety attack -still there.
Need an MR on this patient...STAT.
stat....statistics....omg...next years year book.One lone failure.ME!!

Walls closing in.
NO! NO! It wasn't my fault!!
ACK!!!!!!!!


Breathe breathe breathe.

lifeline:
_____________________________

Corroner's declaration:
pronounced dead.
natural causes.
fucking exams.

There are a few things in life that you have decided to detest and know you will never subject yourself to ever again. These are mostly informed decisions. Like the time I tried a cherry tomato simply because it had the deceptive name of 'cherry' in front of it. That was the last time I ever ate a tomato again (with an exception to ketchup). Then there was JC which made me decide to seriously hate Singapore simply because it was a humiliating and lame experience .Starting from the excruciatingly painful orientation experience and ending with my inability to comprehend how drawing exclamation marks in the air with your index finger could constitute a sign of astonishment. If you're shocked,then show you're shocked, that's what facial muscles are for.

The time has come again for me to fear, and like JC and Cherry Tomato's, this is an informed decision. In two days I will be getting my A level results back. I hope John gets back to me about my job real quick because I feel it in these calcium deficient bones that Uni is not going to happen for me. I would rather die than to retake my papers again. Hell, I am scared out of my wits.I don't do well in major exams, it's like a curse I put on myself.

Rewind to my days of 'exam preparation'...
Day One:
*me stoning at my desk...
staring at my Jaws poster...
staring at my phone
calling XYZ....*

*3hrs pass*

*me asleep in my bed*
(repeat for a whole 3 weeks)

-Bah. I'm dead. SO dead.SO. SO.SO dead.
I think i'm going to bend a cd and shove it to the back of my head.Nice knowing you folks-

By the way, I like Curdoroy and Finch, the strawberry tiramisu is HOT.

It seems recently that the appropriate end to a night out is, inevitably, an immobile mass of girl wretching or foaming at the mouth from one too many alcoholic beverages. Whether it is stupidity or just inate compassion that compels me to succumb and help the useless cadaver,who knows. But I do anyway. I am not regretting it, heck I might just go to heaven for the number of times I've played Mother Teresa, but I am just tired of it.

When I say I'm sick of clubbing, it is most probably females who can't hold their alcohol that I'm tired of. More importantly, females I feel obliged to help due to two or three degrees of separation (ie friend of friend or friend of friend of friend etc). For petes sake girls, if you give no hoot about your livers (like me), at least take into consideration a matter that should be close to every girl's heart ; YOU LOOK DAMN UNGLAM OK! What's the point of tracing your eyeliner meticulously if sweat and reflex tearing is going to smudge it all up and make you look like a bloody ewok?!What's the point of getting your hair right and spritzing on your favourite eau de sexy beast if you're just going to have puke acting as a stylant and matting your hair into repulsive knots and end up looking like those crazed aunties who insist on jaywalking even though your Learner's car is evidently speeding in their direction (which leads me on to another matter altogether...but I digress). GOD PEOPLE.GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER.

This is not the first time drunk idiots have happened and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last. I wish I wasn't so frickin... nice sometimes. I wish I could just place those heels they've managed to kick off in their drunken stupor on their laps and just leave them there to choke on their own regurgitation. Too bad I was brought up better.It's just too bad.

Another lesson learnt is, you are never safe from drunk people. They are everywhere, and they will find you.They will sniff you out and hunt you down like the determined alcohol chugging hounddogs they are.You don't have to be somewhere happening like Zouk or MOS, you can just look to your own backyard,like Cocco Latte. Yes, I had a thing there tonight, just for fun, and I had it all for free but when it came to leaving time, perfectly timed, the drunk girl was there waiting. Not really waiting but you know, totally concussed.

It's times like these you wish you had a reason to make a run for it,like maybe a giant version of your ex chinese tuition teacher chasing you with your sec1-4 shou che syllabus whilst wielding a metal ruler in the other hand.


Another thing I'm very disgruntled with is my fat. My fat fat fat fat lard fat. You get the picture. It also doesn't help I've been eating Oreo Cheesecake like it's going to go out of fashion soon. Peckish; Oreo Cheesecake...and recently, I've picked up on B-3s which are basically chocolate brownie chunks mixed in with cheesecake. The fat I've lost in 3 weeks was gained by the manipulative,sinister cooperation of forces between the oreo cheesecakes and the B3s. I wish I could just staple my mouth shut together or just remove my hypothalamus and maybe that will curb my diet. I'm just a few more slices away from clapping my hands (and probably arms soon) with glee shouting 'Her-Cu-Lees Her- Cu- Lees!' Nutty Professor style. Better yet, when I jump for joy, I might get stuck. Even sitting on the floor typing this, I see my rolls of fat spilling over each other they have become almost separate entities. My cousin has called her belly fat Ronda which is a good name I feel for something as disgusting as a waistband of jiggling cellulite that seems to move before you do ;it has a life of its own I tell you.

The pains of puberty are never ending. I wish I stayed my gawky 12 year old self. Nevermind I looked plain fug, it's the body that matters to the immature, hormonally challeged male species prowling the streets of Singapore right.

Social politics.
What can I say...
Stupid childish,petty games that people play within a group that alters its dynamics altogether. A stone-faced glare intensified by a quick cigarette to the mouth and it has 'hostility' written all over it. I often thought I was impervious to these juvenile games, there was even a point in time where I likened myself to the dalai lama;possessing good humoured serenity in the face of negative forces.Obviously I was wrong.
These stupid indulgences haunt us wherever we go.
But it's not that that I mind.It's the fact that I am made to feel guilty for such a legitmate feeling.
Bah. I can't be bothered to elaborate.It's all a waste of time,energy and simply another dig deeper into a social grave I don't wish to be in.

I swear, there must be something in these hideously toxic alcoholic beverages I've been pouring down my greedy throat these past few days; my short term memory keeps failing me. It has failed me to the point that my usual ability to keep abreast with everyday gossip has been devastatingly compromised. Take tonight for example, H brings us to the flat and makes a snide comment about a common friend and I tease him about it, and instead of retaining the content, I proceed to forget it. It might be due to the noxious durian fumes which have killed my braincells or that the numbing effect of alcohol has proceded to work on my cranial reflexes. How can I keep up with my social life if my kay po-ness is handicapped by my lack of a short-term memory?! I might start with daily cross-word or sudoku puzzles to keep my brain agile. Do what the retirees do... or maybe start hanging out with my little cousins more and indulge in a few memory games from time to time. This is so embarressing to admit... I might have premature alzheimers... Oh well, it happens to the best of us.

What also happens to the best of us, are regrettable alcky reeking snogs which one might indulge in from time to time. This is especially if the time happens to be a saturday night in the VIP section of MOS. I like to think that I'm above the superficial trappings of a guy with oodles of money. His porsche was fun, but not impressive. His holier-than-thou stance towards the MOS manager was entertaining. His general money-whoring was ,well, uh, not attractive,but it made him an easy target. Guy with money spells 'go' to most of us ,so after a few jokey hand schmoozing and play grovelling on his part, I must confess (and god forgive me for this), I was sold. Then came the contact. Then the awkward withdrawal. Then the regret. and now, the post mortem. I wasn't too sad nothing happened, just upset there was no porsche /ferrari/ whatever sportscar to ride in anymore. Then I came to think, I obviously didn't like him that much if I care more for what he has than who he is. I just hope he's not an idiot enough to give way to the other,more professional gold digger in our company. If he does anyway, then they do deserve each other.

On a seperate note, sometimes I find myself wondering if I will ever get my sorry ass to Tokyo. Especially having watched Tokyo Drift I'm more than convinced that Japan will be Ichiban for me. Come on, they have vending machines than vend FOOD. I'm talking hot, tasty JAPANESE FOOD. So I looked up this school in Shaw centre called Igomo or something like that that offers private lessons . They were even friendly enough to provide pictorial testimonials of happy satisfied clients who did succeed in hauling their sorry asses out of their couches to learn the language and even go (in their classes) to Ichiban Japan ! I scanned each lovingly uploaded picture for hot guys,you know,in the hope that maybe gorgeous guys might pursue interests other than their looks.Unfortunately, there were none. Just Miss Swan lookalikes and sad, middle aged men that looked like life had dealt them a raw deal. I am not discouraged however, I will just take private lessons. Nothing comes between me and 'exceedingly handsome guy' from Tokyo Drift... For him, I will brave hell or high water... (meaning miss swans and um, disgruntled old men)


JAH- PAN. ICHIBAN.

YEA!

"This cigarette could be the one that starts the tumour" I told Hann as we loitered around the taxi stand at Shaw suffering from the confused post mortem effects of The Lake House. For those who haven't watched it, it's basically about a girl (i.e Bullock) who falls in love with a man (i.e emo Reeves) who lives 2 years behind her.They have this really weird,ci-fi x-files thing going on where when one puts the letter in the mailbox and lifts the flag up,the other gets it immediately...even though they live 2 years apart.I sat there totally confused and instead,tried to get lost in the romantic plot of the story,but between the manly biceps of Sandra and the constipated facial contortions of Keanu,I must admit...I wasn't feeling anything. What did strike me however,was the subtle concept of time being the ruler of all things. This was perfectly captured in the frequent allusions to Persuasion by Jane Austen.

Basically,the Lake House suggested that you could find the right person,but if it's at the wrong time, then it won't work. Also, it hinted at the mysterious workings of life where there is no way of planning where we're going or knowing we will end up, so pretending to do so is just futile and well,dumb. How one simple action can affect the rest of your life is also another concept woven into this confusing plot,very much in the style of Sliding Doors.

Moving on to less heavy,cerebral matters,I am proud to say that I have taken the first steps to getting a job. Yes,this has been met with amused,sarcastic remarks,especially since my brief hair-raising brush with office work that lasted all of one week last summer. But I'm on to better and more fun things now.I've learned I'm not cut out to be an office hermit so I've decided to take up a job as a shop assistant at this guys clothing store either in Far East or Pacific Plaza (more details later).The latter shop's assistants were racing electronic cars outside and it did look like wicked fun so I decided to take my chances and plead for a job. I've got an interview on thursday now... I'm scared.... what if they don't like me... I know nothing about guy's clothes! oh well.. we'll see what happens and if I live to play with electronic cars outside a guys boutique store.