--loo faux paux
automated flushes are a godsend in a country where the people have cultivated an amazing tendency of avoiding toilet flushes like the plague.
however i have a grouse. i think i have an affinity with phantom flushes , ie , it starts flushing up a storm under my arse while i am still seated on it.
now it isn't so bad if it was just a ripple but as you know usually they are as gentle as category 5 storms , usually successfully wetting my delicate derriere. which isn't so bad until you realise you were halfway through happy bowel moments when it got liquified by the churning.
*cut n pasted from my Word document so some of the punctuations morph into symbols. too lazy to edit la. enjoy !*
Condemn, retort, revoke, taken. Bottomless to the end of the tunnel. Take the pants off my bottom, lick my thighs. Throw up. Collapse. Let’s sleep. Enough for another day of tiring trying to fathom pleasure to its end. Again I remind myself there is no end to it, but still we pursue, driven by another swelling of animal passion, sometimes of love, sometimes of hate, and always with aggression. Fuel it is. Scratch for scratch, bite for bite. Lick the tears from my eyes, lick my eyes. Take me again, take me further. Drive me, drive me on and beyond. The heat is never cooled by the outpourings of our sweat. Is there anything beyond the climax – or is it in the buildup, the adrenalin to the point of explosion, only to retreat, to circle around the point, enticing with more desire, more screams, more reaching; take me, take me again.
Faster, harder, stronger. I want to bleed this time. Tear my skin, rip it. Mix the blood with your sweat and my tears. Take my juices, turn them red too. Smear me in the blood, let it reek of our passion. I’m clinging to you, my fingernails are digging deeper. I feel a new liquid. You’re bleeding too, thick and cool. I lick my fingers, the taste is new. Turn around, my tongue flicks across the marks. It continues to flow. We’re both vampires now. I feel another coming. Hold it, don’t let me slip again. Drive, carry, keep tearing me. Rip more hair from me, I too am now marked on my back. tear, tear. Take me so far that the pleasure returns like elastic. Keep pulling, don’t be afraid, stretch it further. Contort, strain your muscles as hard as mine. You’re quivering; keep pulling.
Scream, light, reality. More liquids. Shaking, cold sweat between us, let’s sleep. Talk is for later, passion must be left pure, untainted by language. From pleasure to dreams; it’s more than human. I see you again, tall and naked. Your body shines with a glow of knowledge. But this time you’re crying, the tears are forming puddles around your bare feet. The cold water laps against my knees as I pray for you. God disappears with you, and I am left with your sea. I can’t swim. The waves are getting stronger, I drift, across time and through waters that get less salty. You pull me from the water, you’ve grown your hair, but it’s gray. I’m slipping, hold me! Hold me! The water creeps up my leg, across my belly towards my chest. I am lost. Your laughter fills my ears. But I’m awake. You’re on the phone. Who is it? Just a wrong number. Sleep. I can’t. I get up, I need to piss. There I am in the mirror, still the same. There is blood on my thighs and across my face. I watch as it spirals down the sink. Blood from passion, injury or waste is still the same blood. Red. There’s blood in my piss too. A little, nothing to see anybody about. I wonder about B, do you have blood in your piss? Or just in your shit? You’re still warm – the passion is still there. Fuck me like the missionaries did all those natives. But slow, as if god is watching, and each thrust tears another feather from his angelic wings. For hours we rock to and fro. The dryness forces us to stop, the tube is empty from last night. I get up, awake. We both drink coffee, black. We talk about the relationship between being and pleasure. We can’t live on pleasure alone, but without it we couldn’t conceive of ourselves as wanting to go on. We wonder about the loveless others, the faces on the trains. They can masturbate. But to free pleasure from guilt is such a struggle, that masturbation seems to make it worse. But does that pleasure need to be sublime? Can’t we all just have sex-o-meters beeping on our lapels. I want to fuck someone in the arse, and you want it there; the beeps coincide. We fuck. The train would be full of groaning, naked bodies. Even the driver would be getting a vicious blowjob. It would be beautiful; but nobody dares to look.
Nervous, feeling the restraining ring on the right hand finger. Guilt again. I want to fuck you in a train I say. Tonight when you finish working, I’ll be on your train, last carriage. Don’t talk to me, just fuck me. Is there any coffee left? I have to leave, I’ll see you tonight. I sit in the bus and write down my thoughts from last night. I don’t we’re getting any closer to anything. I still think it’s in the build. Something unravels thereafter. I want more blood, both of ours. Let’s take a stranger on the weekend, a virgin if possible, either gender. The world flashes by: advertisements, more bikinis and cigarettes. Cunts and cocks. More repressed sex. The next bikini lady has ‘sexists’ sprayed across her boobs. Somebody is having a little daring fun. I smile to myself, the first time since I saw the two schoolboys fucking in the park. Cute. I wanted to join them, but their adolescent cocks spewed their young, hot cum too soon. And they quickly zipped their flies and left. So I kept walking, still smiling. Someone else presses the bell, and we both get off. I lke to swim on Tuesdays, the pool is always quiet at this time. I enter the pool, and begin to swim my laps. The image of me drowning keep filling my head, and I lose my stroke and my breath. I come up for air, spluttering. The girl in the other lane looks at me, a naïve concern on her face. I smile, but say nothing. She continues, as do I, a few strokes behind her. The image comes back. I push through it, swimming on, turning.
My mind is now clear, meditation mode. I can relax, this is what I came for. When I’ve had enough I get out. In the showers I start to masturbate, but I can’t orgasm. I give up. The toilets still smell like piss when I go to put my clothes back on, probably some kid scared of the water, or the size of daddy’s dick. I’m finished, nothing to detain me. The sun is out when I get outside, I feel the warmth that only the sun brings. There are others enjoying the sun, mostly old ladies with their hip braces and shopping carts. They sicken me. They should be cooking biscuits for children. But I let them be, no abuse or stones today. I lack the energy. We need more lube, I remember. There’s a dirty sex shop a block from the pool. I walk there, past more old ladies and their musty cunts. Three schoolboys are outside the shop when I get there, sniggering. What do you want? I ask. They hand the sweaty money over. They’d obviously been there a while, amateurs. I go in, nod to the guy. I grab a tube and some cunt rag, more than their little minds could imagine possible. They should just ask some girls, it’s far cheaper and better. Fuck em. I pay. The boys are hiding around the corner, still as scared as shit. They take the brown paper bag, stuff it into a backpack, and piss off. Their mothers’ll be washing cum stained pants tonight, and asking questions to themselves. Surprised that their little boy has in one step grown up and become a pervert, one hand in the pocket stroking the flesh. The other masquerading civility like the breaking voice. She washes them anyway, knowing that there’s years of silence to come. When I get home I start writing the article for next week’s edition. After I finish the first thousand word draft, I leave the computer, take of my clothes and sleep.
listenin to : nirvana - rape me ( yes i am in love with this song )
forgive me for the lack of updates. one of the members in my project group executed a slick Houdini move and has disappeared into oblivion. And the rest of us are scurrying to pick up the trail of destruction he has left behind , because he conveniently packed up and went to the Bermuda Triangle without completing a single task allocated to him. WOO ! fun.
but yet i am still reluctant to cancel out his name from the group because the assignment carries a hefty 30% weightage , at the same time i really have no idea how to go about punishing him for his irreponsibility.
morale of the story : NEVER EVER trust someone who clubs 24/7 and spends the rest of his time ogling girls and playing Warcraft to do his work. DAMNATION!
meanwhile it has been a busy yet fulfilling fortnight filled with the company of family and friends ( playing board games at Settler's cafe , agenda-less kopi nights etc ) and of course , project work.
will be meeting nic later to catch V for Vendetta ! gosh , i want to make out with Natalie Portman. she is the epitome of hotness. ( wah damn that phrase sounded so bitchy )
can't wait to catch up with mel and the rest later too !
time to head to classes..take care y'all !
listenin to : nirvana - rape me
i'm having an itsy bitsy crush on the most unlikely person ever after a turn of events , or rather , just one event.
i'm totally blown away , my boy.
its not gonna last long though , this infatuation.
had the chance to watch TV for the first time in eons and was revolted by the mini drama series on channel 8 starring Joanne Peh and the quite yummylicious Qiu Zhe.
cheesy lines and unbelievable plot filled with phoney chance encounters yadda yadda. wake up , mediacorp !!!
more later , i'm in the midst of piecing my human and mass communications assignment together. what a daunting task . bleddy hell.
-i don't really need to know
whatever happened to the good ol' days when a nickname is simply , well , just a nickname , and not your heart worn on your sleeve ?
the days of yore when IRC was still in vogue and nicknames were limited by a single word not more than 7 letters long.
it amazes , disgusts and amuses me sometimes to sign in to MSN messenger and to be greeted by the myriad of er , interesting nicknames both offline and online.
some of the more thought provoking ones in mine right now at 7am ( shit i just realised i can't cut and paste and i'm definitely NOT going to type it out word by word so i'm just goin to simplify some of the finger-strain inducing ones )
1) x00000 tOy cErUs x0000000 - bitches ? sluts ? bastards ?
( aLternAtE caPs alert ! )
2) ] sensei yakitori - yankee orange eskimo [
3) mY motTo : dRink drUnk dRop
4)  xinzi  i want to remember to remember how you forgot me ( actually dearie this phrase is seriously grammtically flawed , the second "remember" is redundant :p )
5) i am gerald - OMG portsmouth ! thanks tottenham !!
6) miss kittin - happiness is a warm gun stuck between my thighs
7) ppl say single life is better but couple life is much more better just like me and my lao po so sweet and lovely ( i swear this is word for word. shoot me please i'm gagging here )
8) even if you cannot hear my voice i'll be right beside you dear - when i'm with you , the world stops and time freezes
( that explains the sudden goosebumps )
9) *karynE* =BURN THAT NATURAL DISASTROUS BITCH FROM THE NG FAMILY ! ( err , yan really has an issue with her elder sister. lol. family feud alert )
10) and the war goes on with brainwashed pride , for the love of god and human rights ( i simply love my cousin , he never fails to impress with his aloofness and he has no lack of brain cells though very cynical )
and then there're the ones with underlying messages e.gin 10 more days i'll be 23 !!
orsomeone is in the wrong yet he refuses to apologise , egoistic stuck up MCP
or the not so subtle ones likebirthday wishlist : fcuk jacket and roxy dress * keEps fingErs croSseD *
i don't know about you but such birthday wishlists never fails to get me off because its such a shameless way of whoring for your presents.
its a disgusting trend especially more so when the items in your bloody wishlist is affordable so the pressure is on your friends to get it for you.
speaking of which i just noticed this onethanks mum for the HERMES watch
ahh , the classic show-off. reminds me of daphne teo's blog , to which i admit i'm quite a big fan of but it kinda turns me off whenever she emphasises and namedrops the brands of the stuff she has.
speakin of which i really miss reading her bimbotic posts. heh.
do you really think we give a flying fuck about your burberry wallet or HERMES watch ? ( i think my friend (or rather , casual acquaintance ) is worse , fancy the BIG CAPS )
okay maybe i'm a tad jealous that i don't have a hermes watch.
now back to sleep , i woke up for a quick snack at 6am only to remain quite bright-eyed till now.
lunch at one fullerton later with the folks ! i can't wait for the gastronomical delights. hurrah.
random thought : when i was in love with someone , i wished that i would be able to get over it quickly because a one-sided affair hurt too much.
now that i haven't been in love for a few months now , thate mpty feeling is slowly creeping up on me and my love for long bus sides has waned somewhat because it just ain't the same anymore without someone to think about while being plugged in to music.
one last thing. just in case you guys have forgotton how i look like now , here's a preview =D
i'm rather happy with how this turned out because i don't look retarded , constipated nor rodent-like. phew.
feels good to look human again.
please ignore the nauseating v-sign though. it was totally uncalled for. hahaha.
and don't you think that my hair looks awesome in this photo ? looks like a certain nokia phone hor , i think its the 7600. note that the resemblance in the shape , one side of my hair is curled out and the other , in. LOL. bad hair day la.
listenin to : white stripes - my doorbell
--welcome to the real world
and you thought that , in this world filled with people who can achieve orgasms from eating shit or getting five toes stuck up their arse , things possibly cannot get anymore bizarre.
oh no no no. you're SO DAMN WRONG MY FRIENDS.
now , to add onto the looooooong list of what-the-fuck fetishes , we now have the inflated pussy syndrome !
i concur ( from the pics in the site ) , that the swelling is achieved by pressing some kind of pump to the crotch. what on earth.
would love to post a picture up here but i'm afraid it might offend some. heh.http://inflationstation.pornaccess.com
its porn so its definitely NOT SAFE FOR WORK
yes i know i've been slamming you guys with alot of nonsense the past few days but spare a thought for me lah , i'm suffocating under my projects and work. =D
good night !
--bloody hell !
i've always had that little nagging doubt about 911 conspiracies but i've never had the balls to dig up info/scrutinise photos and videos because it scares the shit out of me somehow , just like how i got the chills while investigating the JFK conspiracy not too long ago.
just as many believe that the 911 incidents are actually part of a conspiracy , just as many skeptics are quick to debunk the so-called facts of the so-called deliberate accident.
me ? i don't know man. i have to snoop around a bit more. meanwhile i'm really scared. who the hell can we really trust now ?
caught transamerica just now with b. excellent film , second compared to brokeback mountain though :p
got denied entry at GV plaza because i had "forgotten" ( yes i'm a bloody liar ! ) my IC. got our tickets refunded after trying to haggle with the ushers. hurled ass over to cineleisure where we got really shitty first row seats but at least i went in without being checked. ha !
more later. im sleepy. so fucking busy till sunday. good , i hate idling.
listenin to : starsailor - four to the floor
haven't heard of the term since god-knows-when but anyway i chanced upon this website and i was laughing my arse off reading these apparently real cybersex chat logs.
ENJOY ! (yes im too lazy to type a post lah , hands are tired from all those project work )
bloodninja: Baby, I been havin a tough night so treat me nice aight?
bloodninja: Slip out of those pants baby, yeah.
BritneySpears14: I slip out of my pants, just for you, bloodninja.
bloodninja: Oh yeah, aight. Aight, I put on my robe and wizard hat.
BritneySpears14: Oh, I like to play dress up.
bloodninja: Me too baby.
BritneySpears14: I kiss you softly on your chest.
bloodninja: I cast Lvl. 3 Eroticism. You turn into a real beautiful woman.
bloodninja: I meditate to regain my mana, before casting Lvl. 8 Cock of the Infinite.
BritneySpears14: Funny I still don't see it
bloodninja: I spend my mana reserves to cast Mighty Fuck of the Beyondness.
BritneySpears14: You are the worst cyber partner ever. This is ridiculous.
bloodninja: Don't fuck with me bitch, I'm the mightiest sorcerer of the lands.
bloodninja: I steal yo soul and cast Lightning Lvl. 1,000,000 Your body explodes into a fine bloody mist, because you are only a Lvl. 2 Druid.
BritneySpears14: Don't ever message me again you piece of shit.
bloodninja: Robots are trying to drill my brain but my lightning shield inflicts DOA attack, leaving the robots as flaming piles of metal.
bloodninja: King Arthur congratulates me for destroying Dr. Robotnik's evil army of Robot Socialist Republics. The cold war ends. Reagan steals my accomplishments and makes like it was cause of him.
bloodninja: You still there baby? I think it's getting hard now.
bloodninja: Ok baby, we got to hurry, I don't know how long I can keep it ready for you.
j_gurli3: thats ok. ok i'm a japanese schoolgirl, what r u.
bloodninja: A Rhinocerus. Well, hung like one, thats for sure.
j_gurli3: haha, ok lets go.
j_gurli3: i put my hand through ur hair, and kiss u on the neck.
bloodninja: I stomp the ground, and snort, to alert you that you are in my breeding territory.
j_gurli3: haha, ok, u know that turns me on.
j_gurli3: i start unbuttoning ur shirt.
bloodninja: Rhinoceruses don't wear shirts.
j_gurli3: No, ur not really a Rhinocerus silly, it's just part of the game.
bloodninja: Rhinoceruses don't play games. They fucking charge your ass.
j_gurli3: stop, cmon be serious.
bloodninja: It doesn't get any more serious than a Rhinocerus about to charge your ass.
bloodninja: I stomp my feet, the dust stirs around my tough skinned feet.
j_gurli3: thats it.
bloodninja: Nostrils flaring, I lower my head. My horn, like some phallic symbol of my potent virility, is the last thing you see as skulls collide and mine remains the victor. You are now a bloody red ragdoll suspended in the air on my mighty horn.
bloodninja: Goddam am I hard now.
bloodninja: Wanna cyber?
Katie_007: Sure, you into vegetables?
bloodninja: What like gardening an shit?
Katie_007: Yeah, something like that.
bloodninja: Nothing turns me on more, check this out:
bloodninja: You bend over to harvest your radishes.
Katie_007: is that it?
bloodninja: You water your tomato patch.
bloodninja: Are you ready for my fresh produce?
Katie_007: I was thinking of like, sexual acts INVOLVING vegetables... Can you make it a little more sexy for me?
bloodninja: I touch you on your lettuce, you massage my spinach... sexily.
bloodninja: I ride your buttocks like they were amber waves of grains.
Katie_007: Grain doesn't really turn me on... I was thinking more along the lines of carrots and zucchinis.
bloodninja: my zucchinis carresses your carrots.
bloodninja: Damn baby you're right, this shit is HOTT.
bloodninja: My turnips listen for the soft cry of your love. My insides turn to celery as I unleash my warm and sticky cauliflower of love.
Katie_007: What the fuck is this madlibs? I'm outta here.
bloodninja: Yeah, well I already unleashed my cauliflower, all over your olives, and up in your eyes. Now you can't see. Bitch.
More over here http://www.chrudat.com/the_best_cyber_sex.html
And seriously i really can't imagine anyone jerking off to cyber sex. I mean , i'd rather read erotica.
listening to : we are scientists - in action
this is REALLY GOOD.
he's david hasselhoff from Baywatch by the way , if you're that old to have seen it ( like me )
my friday night was spent yelling my lungs off with k at the flow show ( HIP HOP AIIGHT ! hahaha ) at the esplanade waterfront. it was all good , at least i didn't spend my friday curled under the sheets and lamenting about my non-existent social life.
a few days ago outdid myself and upheld justice in my endearing little ways. now , i'm all for technology but too much of it makes me sick and wanting for a technology-free world , where we all can be nomads herding cattle , drink non-pasteurised milk and make love all night long in cattle-skin tents.
okay as i was saying , too much of technology is a bad thing. have you noticed the trend of setting mp3 music for ringtones nowadays ? i'm totally okay with it , but more often than not the music of choice is something that the person likes and so whenever he gets a message , instead of viewing it immediately , he allows the music to continue until he reaches auralgasm.
poor us , the non-people in his surroundings.
now this isn't SO bad. i've also noticed to my dismay groups of youngsters huddled in groups on public transportions and blasting music from the speakers of their phone , successfully incurring the wrath of the rest of the passengers.
so a few days ago , i boarded the school-bound train at an unearthly hour of about 6 as i had to prepare for a presentation with my project mates. the darling ipod was flat again despite having fully charged it only about two days before. with nothing else to do i lulled myself into sleep....
only to be awaken by the jarring voice of sean paul asking me to shake my booty at 6am in the morning. a group of malay students had sprouted in the adjacent seats and were enjoying themselves much to the chagrin of me and another lone passenger.
the ruckus went on for about ten minutes and the dirty looks from us apparently went ignored. i've never been one to cause trouble but i took a deep breath , put on my friendliest smile and said
"i'm sorry but i'm afraid you're disturbin everybody in this cabin"
for a moment i thought i was goin to get walloped but the group burst into laughter and started shoving and mock blamimg each other. they alighted at the next station. phew.
i was going to touch on another topic but i forgot what. time to head out anyway , have a good sunday y'all
listenin to : deathcab for cutie - brothers on a hotel bed
i don't usually whine but....
I AM DATELESS ON A FRIDAY.
this is the pits , man.
i always have to restrain myself from visiting pet shops , because whenever i do , i'll end up walking out with a lighter wallet.
i just cannot resist buying more treats or random pet accessories ( i once bought a tacky "cooling" chair for them. it never worked. ). yes , my hammies are spoilt brats.
it was the same just now , initially i had only bought a box of japanese hamster "dried fruits and mixed nuts" treats and squatted in front of the stacked cages where rodents galore ran relentlessly on their running wheels.
i fell hopelessly in love with this peewee critter who was the most hyperactive of the lot , curling its tail around every thing and hopping about from one surface to another.
Meet my new pet , Nano the Mouse . ( stupid name i know because it won't stay nano-sized forever)
Nano the Mouse is so tiny that its body is slightly shorter than the length of my pinky , which is about this long ------------- .
Because of its size , i am so terribly afraid of carrying it because there's a high possibility that Nano would wriggle or slip out of my hands and scurry off into some dark corner in a flash.
So hard to take a nice photo because it just CANNOT keep still , unlike my two fat-ass obese hammies below who are sedentary creatures. lol.
meet my two roly-poly hammies ! its a tradition to name all of my hamsters Hammie. and yes , they adopt my surname.
Nano it its make-shift goldfish bowl home , because i had initially wanted to house it together with my two hammies. big mistake , because the two fat idiots kept picking on poor Nano. i'm kinda miffed because the mice and the syrian hamsters were actually housed together in perfect harmony at the pet shop. looks like my hammies ain't really friendly critters. gahh. because of their aloofness i've gotta get another cage and a companion for Nano tomorrow.
btw Nano has amazing dextrity. i caught it performing some sorta awesome acrobatic stunt just now , its two hind paws curled tightly around the bent ladder and the rest of its body and front paws ramrod-straight in mid-air. how fucking incredible !!!!
and oh you should hear her ( him ? haven't got the chance to inspect its privates yet ) squeak. its so soft that its barely audible.
now life isn't always a bed of roses
i saw this languished campbell dwarf hamster lying in an awkward position in the middle of the cage , barely breathing and getting trodden upon by the rest of the i-don't-give-a-fuck comrades.
i notified the pet shop owner about it where he shrugged nonchalently , scooped it up and muttered that he would bury it before walking away.
i was fucking appalled. what , bury it when its still struggling for its life ?? the audacity !
i stopped him and asked him if he would allow me to bring it home and try to nurse it back to health and i promised to return it to him if i did. of course he was more than happy to do so.
it is so emaciated that i saw no reason to cover up the little tupperware box because it didn't even have the strength to move. i named it Sunshine , (sunshine after the rain , geddit ?? ) corny hor ??
back home , i nudged Sunshine's mouth that were clammy around the edges with the metal tip of a water bottle. at first it didn't even bothered to acknowledge the intrusion but the moment it sensed water , Sunshine seemed to muster up all of its strength to hold onto the tip where he lapped up the water earnestly and this scene made my heart ache. just how long did it go without water ?
apparently the skyjuice was a godsend to it because i see a slight improvement now , at least its resting in a more natural position and moving alot more though i'm disappointed its still not touching its food. i hope it will soon.
so guys , please be on the alert for errant pet shops and NEVER hesitate to report such cases to the SPCA. i didn't report this one because the living conditions were excellent , just that the owner probably didn't notice his sick patient. there was once i got so revolted by how a pet shop treated its occupants that i called SPCA on the spot .
imagine , cages with sawdust so caked with faeces that there was no semblance of the familiar pale yellow of cedar wood . the water bottle was caked with algae and there was no running wheel for the hamsters to exercise and extremely poor ventilation because it was house in a glass tank and COVERED with a plastic top. STUPID PEOPLE ! the poor hamsters were just lying around in piles with matted fur and some with festering sores , just waiting to die or the unlikely outcome of being taken home because they just looked so.. unappealing.
you wouldn't want to wallow in your own shit and condensed urine , would you.
--hammie's shoppe !
got this baby from the Apple store ( trust me , the Apple stores in California are so much more awesome than the ones here ) in LA
Unfortunately to my dismay it was
1) uncompatible with my pc because my USB port's pretty damn old and i can't charge it while uploading songs so i have to charge it the good ol' manual way
2) initially incompatible with the charger as well as the plug couldnt fit into my eletrical socket and i had to get the thingy ( waddya call that ? travel plug ? i think ) to fit into the ipod charger
3) pissing me off due to its super high energy consumption. ipods are so infamous for their battery lifes ( or lack thereof )
4) functioning below capacity because i only have like 2 GB worth of mp3s in my pc , a mere 1% ( you do the math since i failed it ) of its 30GB potential
5) giving me the jitters everytime i go out because i get so paranoid about people stealing it. it also happened when my dad gave me the nokia N70 phone and my paranoia got so bad i even got suspicious around my friends , each of them a suspect in my psychopathic head. i swapped it with my dad's girlfriend for my trusty 6230 after that.
so yes.. this beautiful black super shiny Ipod Video ( or for the uber-coolz yea, the term is "4th generation Ipod" , thankewverimuj ) is up for sale !!!!
Comes with every damn thing including the box and the drawstring plastic bag ( i know some people are very anal about the packaging. assholes . ) but obviously the white slip-on cover is dirty beyond belief.
flawless except for a few minor invisible scratches that every Ipod has , i swear.
and i will personally smack your face with my week-old socks if you want to buy it from me at $1 or some other ridiculous prices. fuck you understand ?
and i'm going to get either a Nano or something else that comes fitted with a radio receiver , Creative seems like a good choice.
or stick to my trusty muvo and donate it to my Buy-A-dSLR-camera fund.
Interested parties please leave a comment . DO NOT email me ! i will do that. =D
i feel so unhealthy having devoured a Ramly burger and a plate of greasy fried bee hoon just now. burp.
watching transamerica with k tomorrow after class ! woohoo can't wait to watch it
i dreamt of grandpa just now.
what i could remember most vividly was that i touched his face before hugging him .
i miss him so much.
today mr perfect noticed my puffy eyes and the air of malaise around me and without asking he startled me by giving me a neck rub in full view of the rest.
now , i get really anal when guys i'm not in lust/love/very close with touches me. or even worse , tickle. i can assure you that i see zero humour in you digging your fingers into my ribs , either as a "punishment" ( e.g ORHH you promised not to curse anymore but you just did ! i'm going to punish you ! ) or for the sake of generating a reaction from me. fuck off , i know the male psyche only too well , you just want to take advantage, arseholes.
if it was anyone else with his fingers around my nape , i would have yelled blue murder and smack his hand indignantly. but because mr perfect was just such a nice person without motives , i couldn't so i just sat there quietly , a sense of utter revolt sweeping over me.
about half a minute later the disgust got so bad i actually felt slightly nauseous.
lucikly he stopped.
of course it would have been a completely different scenario if it was someone i liked so close to me.
and oh by the way.
i got the shock of my life when i heard pig-like snorts halfway through a lecture today. i turned around and i saw one of my prettiest classmate laughing her head off. and yes , puncturing her girlish guffaws , were the unlikely snorts coming from the most unlikely person.
reminds me of kt , a guy i used to find rather cute but his peculiar way of laughter really put me off. it didn't even sound like laughter , it sounded more like me having an asthma attack , only that the wheezing sounded gruff.
but of course , of course , so as to sound politically correct , i shall add that these are only superficial , that what really matters is in the heart. yeaaaaa.
was supposed to head down to thumper's but having slept only a combined grand total of 7 hours in the past 2 days , i concede defeat.
to think i was so looking forward to get drunk with her and to grind random hot femmes.
extremely volatile and bad mood these few days. someone please hold me , and feed me vanilla ice cream with crunchy toffee bits.
or ben and jerry's cherry garcia ice cream.
or warm chocolate cake.
listenin to : last days of april - aspirins and alcohol
--faux paux !
i totally agree that its better not to speak and be thought dumb , than to speak and to be proven dumb.
yesterday i was singing wonderwall to myself and that sparked off a conversation between zan and i about rock concerts , because oasis was in town recently.
so he goes on to tell me that he attended dream theater's concert a couple of months ago.
to be honest , i know ZILCH about dream theater except that their members are pretty old.
but i didn't want to create a dead-end by just nodding my head in acknowledgement and risk looking ignorant ( and also to prove that i'm very very clever ) so i any-old-how ramble
"oh .. dream theater.. always thought they're quite similar to lep zeppelin"
zan stared at me in wonder
"led zeppelin ? similar ? !!!"
"errr .. yah.. quite similar what.. they're from the same era what ?"
"no leh , lep zeppelin's from the 70s and DT's during the 80s and 90s leh"
oh shit. what a big boo-boo i had made. so i tried to save my sorry ass by making another general pseudo-statement
"aiyah , almost same what. and their music also kinda similar"
"similiar meh ? they're like totally different"
oh shit. the damage done to my ego's irreversible.
i must learn not to be so act-smart.
okay back to my dreaded project.
fuck the oscar's by the way. its a bloody rigged scam. brokeback only won one award.
listenin to : goldfrapp - ooh la la
today is the last day of the fringe festival. gosh , two weeks flew just like that !
and coming up.. Singapore Fashion Week !!!!! probably will be helping out P for the shoots. weeee !
and tomorrow.. the 78th annual academy awards ! never a big fan of mainstream film but hey , i'll be rooting for all 8 nominations for brokeback mountain !
JAKE GYLLENHAAL !!!!
i can't wait to wake up at 7.30a.m to anticipate the pre-awards show , to ogle at the awesome ( or not so awesome ) threads worn by the celebs while munching on the bunch of snacks i've lugged home from random supermarkets.
okay , heading out to the substation already. LAST SHOW !
i think i should abstain from milo in the mornings because i noticed that whenever i do , it gives me an acute attack of the runs.
---say NO !
i am extremely perturbed at the rising trend of restaurents charging for plain water.
and i very much would like to know why. i have thought of a few possible reasons why they do so
1) because they are so unscrupulous that every penny charged is a penny's worth of the all-important P word - PROFIT
2) because this is a purely psychological ruse use to trick diners into paying for more expensive drinks. here's a scenario
diner : can i have a glass of iced water please ?
waiter : that'll be 50 cents
diner : what !
diner *thinks to himself* : then i might as well pay a bit more for a decent glass of soda
diner : i think i'll have a coke then
3) because the restaurent takes cares of its wait staff so that they do not have to bear the burden of refilling the glasses of diners. oh , the poor hardworking staff
4) because water is so expensive
here's a list of the restaurents i have visited that charges for water
1) secret recipe ( i don't give a hoot if theirs came in a small plastic bottle )
PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ADD ON FOR THE BENEFIT OF EVERYONE IN THE COMMENT BOX ! i will add to the list =)
and here's a disturbing thought - imagine if the trend catches on in the industry because as we singaporeans like to say " don't spoil market mah ! "
we should all just start carrying water bottles.
fifty cents isn't alot , but when we're charged for something that SHOULD be complimentary , then it is definitely a violation of rights.
say NO !!!
am typing this on the laptop on my way to school.
went to Ministry of Sound last night with the usual suspects and i seriously think that i am getting on age , because what i used to deem as early was the time i actually wanted out , because i was just too tired and the joints in my bones ached from the dancing. ha. damn.
last sunday was the 49th day since my grandpa passed away and we had the final prayers at the temple , the last of the weekly temple visits in the past 7 weeks.
i am coping with his passing surprisingly well though the pain gets unbearable at times especially when i look at his belongings which i have kept , a well worn Seiko watch and his signature black stone gold ring.
i think its easier when you think about how much pain he has to endure before his body finally relented and gave up. during that bleak period all i really wanted was for him to just let go.
i love being in the temple , looking at the devotees made up of mainly bent grey-haired people and walking through the isles of photos of the deceased. yea , i have a morbid fascination with that.
obituaries ? you bet.
i saw this ancient shrivelled being hobbling past me with a make-shift walking stick , back arched like a crescent moon and with each seemingly labourious step she takes , one could almost hear her inhaling a deep contemplative breath.
her cheeks - how could it be possible that they were once like mine - cushiony and yielding to every touch , flushed and veiled by a light down-like fuzz not unlike that of a peach.
in place now , a cobbled path of sorts , every crease a testimony of life's trials and tribulations. sagging , with a burden perhaps ?
her upper lips tight around her toothless gums , a stern matronly look. her gold-rimmed reading glasses magnifies her eyes to comic proportions. her eyes , almost misty blue with age.
the clothes on her petite body , a paisley mandarin collared top discoloured with repeated washings, and black cotton pants synomonous with women her age. were they once part of a trend in her time ? will my outfit now trigger the same reaction in my grandchildren in time to come ? will they even form part of an exhibit in a musuem a century from now ?
i shudder at that thought.
time for photos again! ( i know you guys love it , voyeurs ! )
my first ever experience eating alone in a fast food restaurent ( tried to look inconspicuous ) i absolutely LOVE carl's jr's santa fe chicken burger !!!!! and criss-cut fries with salsa. shit. i'm craving for that now.
and contrary to my petite frame , i am actually able to devour an entire carl's jr set meal by myself , a feat which even some guys are unable to attain. worship me !!
and yes i read gossip magazines ! SO !?!?! :p
some hip-hop gig i attended by mistake with P. we thought there was an acoustic indie gig going on . not a big hip hop fan but the atmosphere was good.
a solo dance act at the esplanade concourse as part of the fringe festival
a bhutanese lady in her traditional garb at the metamophorsis ( wah sibei big word sia ) of bhutanese woven textiles exhibition at the esplanade jendela gallery. gosh i think you guys should know by now my fascination with the himalayan countries - nepal , tibet and bhutan ! love their culture. so zen.
G and i looking windstruck
ter and i !
eh ter i love this shot man , the composition is rather perfect. a pity the subject wasn't :p
his super-ventilated jeans ! note the stragetic placin of the "air-vents" , which allows the whole world to admire his checkered boxers. bloody exhibitionist.
"the visit" exhibition , a mixed media gallery featuring works of inmates.
hard at work at the substation.
my first ever rollie experience , courtesy of ter !!! note that the tobacco really looks like pubic hair. LOL !
an attempt to look cute. hahahhaa. a rather decent try i suppose ( i look 14 ) but nauseating nevertheless. at least i tried ! ( i have to purse my lips together so i don't look like a half-fucked rodent )
and have i ever mentioned how awesome Zara's spring collection is ? shitte. and i want to buy everything in agnes.b .
okay i sound like a spoilt bimbo.
listenin to : emineim - lose yourself ( the only hip hop i like. eminem's a maestro, man ! )