I have to stop waking in the afternoons, simply because the dreams are getting too weird. And I awake with an almost ruptured throat from the pure dryness.
hL says (PM 10:52):or we go MOMO open one chivas 12
nicholas cross says (PM 10:53):how about a chivas 18
alfred. says (PM 10:54):how about a cup of plain water
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Short.Post.
|
Shagged. Projects piling up. Thankfully to my ground, forte helps with stress.
I shit you not, over the past weekend, I must have turned into a girl. I'm like menstruating through my nose. (this is the only term I can think of) Every now and then, for no apparent reason, I'd bleed like crap for about ten seconds, then the blood will stop... as quickly as it came. Luckily for me this usually happens in the toilet, so it dosent get really messy. Apologies to those I've scared before Whisper. I know a white sink of blood isn't too common a sight. I found it pretty hilarous until when I related this story to my friend, his gf suggested I stuff a tampon up my nose. Not funny.
Some very obvious cries of outrage, that my lengthy posts are congesting your eye vessels. Okok, I'll try to keep things nice and sweet. Condolences to PJ people, and the best of luck with it. 600 Raw Score retainees isn't something very glam or possible. Do look forward. Life goes on.
S&W tomorrow will see me with a tennis racket, and Bukit Timah road full of tennis balls....
Eh, why you no school today!?
"Holiday! Holiday!"
I shit you not, over the past weekend, I must have turned into a girl. I'm like menstruating through my nose. (this is the only term I can think of) Every now and then, for no apparent reason, I'd bleed like crap for about ten seconds, then the blood will stop... as quickly as it came. Luckily for me this usually happens in the toilet, so it dosent get really messy. Apologies to those I've scared before Whisper. I know a white sink of blood isn't too common a sight. I found it pretty hilarous until when I related this story to my friend, his gf suggested I stuff a tampon up my nose. Not funny.
Some very obvious cries of outrage, that my lengthy posts are congesting your eye vessels. Okok, I'll try to keep things nice and sweet. Condolences to PJ people, and the best of luck with it. 600 Raw Score retainees isn't something very glam or possible. Do look forward. Life goes on.
S&W tomorrow will see me with a tennis racket, and Bukit Timah road full of tennis balls....
Eh, why you no school today!?
"Holiday! Holiday!"
The fallacies of MCM
|
As per cirriculum for JJC students, I shall pen this post in the midst of doing yoga, by breathing only through one nose. This is not voluntary, but a result of an irremovable congestion, cold and sore throat. I may be sick, but you wont realise how sick I am until u finish this post.
Many people have been asking me what I'm studying in MCM. Well, to be frank, I don't know why I'm even there, let alone how my modules will be of use. For the sake of ignorant readers, I will be rewarding your loyalty to my blog with a free crash-course. (Limited time only) Fellow coursemates, please do not read, or proceed with an open-heart for laughter. I haven't written my will yet, and I'm still a virgin.
Because of stereotypical influences, I've been taught to believe that there are certain distinct traits to individuals whom choose this field of study, mostly which are not very pleasant. Of course, you can disagree....and for the first time, you are not wrong, simply because I say so.
Poor Chinese
Terribly untrue, as I am a living testimonial. You will see students from even Chinese extractions attempt to speak english once they realise you are from MCM, after you have spent half an hour figuring out it IS english. However, like in every herd, there will always be black sheep, some which just happen to make out 0.3% of the cohort.
Significantly Smarter
If you think Steve Job's marketing is Crème de la Crème, you obviously havent met the smart chap who thought up of this. With controversy armed as his/her marketing tool, the individual has successfully sold the course as an "by-invitation-only" thing. One such evidence is that half the world dosent know what you study in MCM, but they want to get in. (Or so I think.. See!? Even I've been sold out!)
Assumption : You have to be smart and cool to get in.
Fact: Dawn is in.
Bimbo-City
Till now, I've been unable to ascertain the nature of this stigmata. Likewise, its results appear to show almost a 50-50. Be it my terrible taste, or that God seems be blind in this area. The lands of MCM are where you can find students dressed in the most.... fashionable fashions... too fashionable to the extent you might think they are something taken out of Minority Report. However, the sad fact is that one of the three personalities of a bimbo are not fufilled here. I WILL not SAY. DONT ASK ME ANYMORE.
Bimbo - (Wikiedpia ) Bimbo is a term that emerged in popular English language usage in the late 20th Century to describe an often attractive, yet stupid, pliable woman
There are three distinct classes of individuals that will make up the major consitution in this field of study. Note this is my word of mouth from seniors, and not my ridiculous presumptions expositions, I will post those later, not now.
Nerds:Ner-d:(nûrd): Often assosciated with individuals whom are too engrossed in work, or too enthuastic. Being an A student also automatically qualifies you for this. For examples, please refer to ShengYong. I will consider myself to be either here or the next category, except I dont have the results. You can disagree, but this time you're wrong.
BackStabbers:Bak.St-aBBrS:(bāk'stāb'er): Used to describe students whom have almost made the auditions for HitMan: The Movie. Adept with many types of knives, they are able swiftly and silently penetrate your flesh to leave you bleeding and dying. Only applicable from the behind. See Silent Assassains for disambiguation.
Clubbers:Cla.BBerS:(klŭb'ərs): Synomous with slow moving zombies in Resident Evil : Extinction, they are people whom usually appear to be silent in lectures, not because they are paying attention, but that they have still two full bottles of Barcardi in their blood, and are dying from liver failure at 17. I swear do not light a fire near them, or you will be charged with Arson/Murder.
However, in my fairly short stay in the course. I feel that there are certainly more sub-sections that should be included. This is the part where my ridiculous presumptions come in.
Otakus- Often clad in weird outfits. Being around such individuals too long will make you fear black notebooks. Believing they possess supernatural powers of some sort, such people speak in gibberish only their fellow counterparts understand. Because their perception of reality lies only a thin line away from their Gundam suit, I will advise you to stay clear of the more severe cases... or you will hear him shouting "SENNEN GOROSHI!"
WuZunFans- Basically blind people. Or students that need new specs. Often seen in crowded areas shouting at their idols, such people can whine for a lecture being one hour long, and squeal in joy waiting like... five days to welcome some ladyboy from taiwan. Frequent hangouts include: K-Box, Comics Connection. Basically identifable by shouting "WUZUN!" loudly. This is very much like shouting "Hitler!" and a german proudly stick out his arm and go "HEIL!"
Emo:Subcultural People- No character description. All attempts to communicate with them have been recriporacted with blank stares. Often seen in toilets with razor blades.
Because I have totally no idea what I'm studying, I'm sorry I will not be able to provide you insights to the nature of this course. However, what I want to highlight is a very very useful class known as CATS.
A class where its students are encouraged to think out of the box and practice expressionalism, in hope that they will discover some supernova idea. However, what most people do not know that this also doubles as a training facility of sucide bombers under the decitful cover : Creative Applied Thinking Skills.
Students are told to come up with creative solutions to terribly improbable problems. The best thing is that all solutions are acceptable, as long they sound feasible. (Feasible here refers to using an atomic bomb in Beijing to kill that kid who stole a bun) Students leave the class, supposedly invigorated with confidence that they ARE able to do something and make a change. Sadly, as soon as the last student is out of the door, the teacher goes " HAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA, IDIOTS! ". It deeply pains me to see how my fellow schoolmates are decepted into thinking they actually possess some form of power.
Crazy courses need crazy teachers. Mine is no exception. Taken from probably a Harry Potter movie, she is the best candidate for this position. Armed with a face for the topic (She really looks like a cat), and the speech of Dolores Umbridge, she explains creative concepts to students, all which are as real as a three dollar note. Every word she says sounds like an incantation for "Expelimerius!" or "Riddikulus!".
Did you all ever had a feeling that sometimes God is screwing around with you? Well, I do. As soon as I entered my class, I had the joy of my life. Reknowned soccer player F. Terres (I know the spelling, dont act smart) is in my CLASS! Unknown to some of her "friends", this is how her name is pronounced...or so she says. Luckily for me, my cover has not been exposed, unlike Brian, who openly flamed her. I was still able to smile, and GUESS WHAT!? WE DID GROUPWORK TOGETHER~! WOO! Of the HUNDRED's of IS classes, I managed to TIO her. Now how lucky is that?!
Many people have been asking me what I'm studying in MCM. Well, to be frank, I don't know why I'm even there, let alone how my modules will be of use. For the sake of ignorant readers, I will be rewarding your loyalty to my blog with a free crash-course. (Limited time only) Fellow coursemates, please do not read, or proceed with an open-heart for laughter. I haven't written my will yet, and I'm still a virgin.
Because of stereotypical influences, I've been taught to believe that there are certain distinct traits to individuals whom choose this field of study, mostly which are not very pleasant. Of course, you can disagree....and for the first time, you are not wrong, simply because I say so.
Poor Chinese
Terribly untrue, as I am a living testimonial. You will see students from even Chinese extractions attempt to speak english once they realise you are from MCM, after you have spent half an hour figuring out it IS english. However, like in every herd, there will always be black sheep, some which just happen to make out 0.3% of the cohort.
Significantly Smarter
If you think Steve Job's marketing is Crème de la Crème, you obviously havent met the smart chap who thought up of this. With controversy armed as his/her marketing tool, the individual has successfully sold the course as an "by-invitation-only" thing. One such evidence is that half the world dosent know what you study in MCM, but they want to get in. (Or so I think.. See!? Even I've been sold out!)
Assumption : You have to be smart and cool to get in.
Fact: Dawn is in.
Bimbo-City
Till now, I've been unable to ascertain the nature of this stigmata. Likewise, its results appear to show almost a 50-50. Be it my terrible taste, or that God seems be blind in this area. The lands of MCM are where you can find students dressed in the most.... fashionable fashions... too fashionable to the extent you might think they are something taken out of Minority Report. However, the sad fact is that one of the three personalities of a bimbo are not fufilled here. I WILL not SAY. DONT ASK ME ANYMORE.
Bimbo - (Wikiedpia ) Bimbo is a term that emerged in popular English language usage in the late 20th Century to describe an often attractive, yet stupid, pliable woman
There are three distinct classes of individuals that will make up the major consitution in this field of study. Note this is my word of mouth from seniors, and not my ridiculous presumptions expositions, I will post those later, not now.
Nerds:Ner-d:(nûrd): Often assosciated with individuals whom are too engrossed in work, or too enthuastic. Being an A student also automatically qualifies you for this. For examples, please refer to ShengYong. I will consider myself to be either here or the next category, except I dont have the results. You can disagree, but this time you're wrong.
BackStabbers:Bak.St-aBBrS:(bāk'stāb'er): Used to describe students whom have almost made the auditions for HitMan: The Movie. Adept with many types of knives, they are able swiftly and silently penetrate your flesh to leave you bleeding and dying. Only applicable from the behind. See Silent Assassains for disambiguation.
Clubbers:Cla.BBerS:(klŭb'ərs): Synomous with slow moving zombies in Resident Evil : Extinction, they are people whom usually appear to be silent in lectures, not because they are paying attention, but that they have still two full bottles of Barcardi in their blood, and are dying from liver failure at 17. I swear do not light a fire near them, or you will be charged with Arson/Murder.
However, in my fairly short stay in the course. I feel that there are certainly more sub-sections that should be included. This is the part where my ridiculous presumptions come in.
Otakus- Often clad in weird outfits. Being around such individuals too long will make you fear black notebooks. Believing they possess supernatural powers of some sort, such people speak in gibberish only their fellow counterparts understand. Because their perception of reality lies only a thin line away from their Gundam suit, I will advise you to stay clear of the more severe cases... or you will hear him shouting "SENNEN GOROSHI!"
WuZunFans- Basically blind people. Or students that need new specs. Often seen in crowded areas shouting at their idols, such people can whine for a lecture being one hour long, and squeal in joy waiting like... five days to welcome some ladyboy from taiwan. Frequent hangouts include: K-Box, Comics Connection. Basically identifable by shouting "WUZUN!" loudly. This is very much like shouting "Hitler!" and a german proudly stick out his arm and go "HEIL!"
Emo:Subcultural People- No character description. All attempts to communicate with them have been recriporacted with blank stares. Often seen in toilets with razor blades.
Because I have totally no idea what I'm studying, I'm sorry I will not be able to provide you insights to the nature of this course. However, what I want to highlight is a very very useful class known as CATS.
A class where its students are encouraged to think out of the box and practice expressionalism, in hope that they will discover some supernova idea. However, what most people do not know that this also doubles as a training facility of sucide bombers under the decitful cover : Creative Applied Thinking Skills.
Students are told to come up with creative solutions to terribly improbable problems. The best thing is that all solutions are acceptable, as long they sound feasible. (Feasible here refers to using an atomic bomb in Beijing to kill that kid who stole a bun) Students leave the class, supposedly invigorated with confidence that they ARE able to do something and make a change. Sadly, as soon as the last student is out of the door, the teacher goes " HAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA, IDIOTS! ". It deeply pains me to see how my fellow schoolmates are decepted into thinking they actually possess some form of power.
Crazy courses need crazy teachers. Mine is no exception. Taken from probably a Harry Potter movie, she is the best candidate for this position. Armed with a face for the topic (She really looks like a cat), and the speech of Dolores Umbridge, she explains creative concepts to students, all which are as real as a three dollar note. Every word she says sounds like an incantation for "Expelimerius!" or "Riddikulus!".
Did you all ever had a feeling that sometimes God is screwing around with you? Well, I do. As soon as I entered my class, I had the joy of my life. Reknowned soccer player F. Terres (I know the spelling, dont act smart) is in my CLASS! Unknown to some of her "friends", this is how her name is pronounced...or so she says. Luckily for me, my cover has not been exposed, unlike Brian, who openly flamed her. I was still able to smile, and GUESS WHAT!? WE DID GROUPWORK TOGETHER~! WOO! Of the HUNDRED's of IS classes, I managed to TIO her. Now how lucky is that?!
Why singapore is such a safe place
|
Most of us aren't afraid to go home late.. okay accept for the fact your parents might lock you out because you fail as Cinderella and the clock happened to strike twelve one tick too fast. We all have to admit, most of us are not afraid to stay out late, because we think Singapore is safe.
Other factors aside, I feel the most important one is that we have a lack of competent gangsters.
Why do I say so? If you recall, when was the last time you got beaten up by some hooligan off the street you might have some trouble, others will be crossing their fingers while telling me it was just the other day.
While gangsters in other countries form triads reputable enough to even make officers cower at their toes, local triads only make it as far as the kopitiam, drowning down gallons of Carlsberg while portraying the beauty of the Hokkien dialect at Chelsea scoring a goal, accompanied by relevant hand signals. I swear to god a deaf foreigner will do sign language back.
I shall attempt to disseminate and highlight differences in gangsterism
Appearance
Next we take a look at the differences in a micro-level, down to each individual. The average local ah-beng dresses in tapered tight jeans, always with holes. To qualify as a full-fledged local gangster, your hair cannot be black, and you must have holes in your body big enough to steal bubble tea straws with. In addition you must have proficiency in at least three four different languages, (only keywords) and breathe only through a cigarette.
The overseas gangster will differ in-terms of appearance by class. While lower level "runners" dress very much alike our local pathetic-excuse-of-a-gangster ahbengs, the higher levels put on a suit with sunglasses. (I lifted that off a movie, don't argue with me, they say what's on TV is always right) Even higher classes will don a five figure Armani suit.
Admission
In the section, I shall highlight the pre-requisites of gang admission. The overseas triad will usually put you on a "probation", requesting that you rob that old granny or extort money of some small kid. Only after successful completion of the tasks are you then accepted into the brotherhood.. or sisterhood, whichever applies. (Niggy i think they will have problem placing you)
Then we take a look at the admission criteria for the local gang. (Notice the difference in terminology, gang & triad) Well basically there's like none, you just have to have the brain of a turkey or a deprived and abusive childhood. Just offer tea, down that beer and you're in.
Activities
All gangs will of course have "outings", or so we call, activities. The local gang usually hangs out at a shopping mall, and contemplate on stuff they will like to... lift. After many shoves and whimp-calling. A feeble teen is chosen. Already wetting his pants, he attempts to pocket that new Jay Chou album while the rest of his team stay on high alert... looking out for uniformed old men nearing their eigthes, whom are supposed to be able to catch up to teenage shoplifters. The coast is clear, the teen strides with an aura of confidence out of the shop, thinking that he has succeeded. Seconds later, sirens blare, and he starts crapping in his pants. His "team" scatters out of sight so fast, breaking the sound barrier in the process. The teen panics and is eventually held down by old men in blue, catching up in their walking sticks. Only when the CD is retrieved from him does the teen realise there's a sensor tag there...THEY are the only reason why you see your local security do not bother to hire able-bodied guards.
The overseas gang however sits quietly in a van with ski-masks on. The doors suddenly slide open and they exit, spotting their target. Seconds later, they are back in the van, with the victim. No questions asked.
Ascension
All management systems require a hierarchy of authority, "ranks" or so to say. In the local gang because of their limited activities, there are basically not many chances to ascend to new heights. Your rank is determined by your loyalty as a dog to your gang, and the amount of cash you steal for your boss.
Because of the wide range of social activies the overseas triad engages in, from Arson to Assassination, there is very much chance for a newcomer to climb the ladder quickly. Activies come with credit points, depending on their level of stupidity. Also, honour comes from your abilities to destroy your liver. Being able to empty 4 bottles of vodka also make you respected.
Aggression
" EH, YOU STARE WAD STARE? " This line, recited more times then the bible, is the oldest testament a gangster will use as a pick-up line. Usually the aggressor will reciprocate with similar language, punctuated by a string of vulgarities. The situation heats up, the number of members on both sides multiply faster then Anthrax released in Beijing. It looks like a bloody battle is about to begin.... Then suddenly, one man from a side steps forward, while the rest back off... the other side complies, sending out their best man. The chosen warriors step forward. This is it, it looks like its one man for an army... this was Troy. The men inch closer, as if trying to cut the battle short... their hands extend, ready for battle................and they shake hands, saying peace.
This looks like a movie by Rudolph Maté, director of D.O.A and if I see this in a cinema, I will empty my popcorn on whoever picked this show.
We sail across the seas now, it's a crowded bar. Some people just cant keep their eyes to themselves. They must stare and glare. Unfortunately, his eyes fall on a triad boss. The boss stares back. Unsure of his dire situation, the individual continues, the boss.....smiles back at him. The individual is taken aback, and quickly turns away... All seems well... but don't look now, I think I see a Bacardi flying for him.
Verdict: Be thankful people, you live in a city where child-porn watchers hail more respect then gangsters.
If any of you decides to go into teaching, I will strongly urge you to setup a school for these lost souls on how to be a proper gangsters, but beware. This is going to be no easy feat. Besides the long hours you will have to spend to teach them how to use glue. You will have to have an eBay account, to start buying in some brains to upgrade theirs. I also recommend you send them on exchange programmes overseas to meet their fellow counterparts to learn how things should be done.
Singapore is really growing to be a pathetic nation, we don't even have proper vice.
"...its a small crime... and I've got no excuse.. is that alright?"
Other factors aside, I feel the most important one is that we have a lack of competent gangsters.
Why do I say so? If you recall, when was the last time you got beaten up by some hooligan off the street you might have some trouble, others will be crossing their fingers while telling me it was just the other day.
While gangsters in other countries form triads reputable enough to even make officers cower at their toes, local triads only make it as far as the kopitiam, drowning down gallons of Carlsberg while portraying the beauty of the Hokkien dialect at Chelsea scoring a goal, accompanied by relevant hand signals. I swear to god a deaf foreigner will do sign language back.
I shall attempt to disseminate and highlight differences in gangsterism
Appearance
Next we take a look at the differences in a micro-level, down to each individual. The average local ah-beng dresses in tapered tight jeans, always with holes. To qualify as a full-fledged local gangster, your hair cannot be black, and you must have holes in your body big enough to steal bubble tea straws with. In addition you must have proficiency in at least three four different languages, (only keywords) and breathe only through a cigarette.
The overseas gangster will differ in-terms of appearance by class. While lower level "runners" dress very much alike our local pathetic-excuse-of-a-gangster ahbengs, the higher levels put on a suit with sunglasses. (I lifted that off a movie, don't argue with me, they say what's on TV is always right) Even higher classes will don a five figure Armani suit.
Admission
In the section, I shall highlight the pre-requisites of gang admission. The overseas triad will usually put you on a "probation", requesting that you rob that old granny or extort money of some small kid. Only after successful completion of the tasks are you then accepted into the brotherhood.. or sisterhood, whichever applies. (Niggy i think they will have problem placing you)
Then we take a look at the admission criteria for the local gang. (Notice the difference in terminology, gang & triad) Well basically there's like none, you just have to have the brain of a turkey or a deprived and abusive childhood. Just offer tea, down that beer and you're in.
Activities
All gangs will of course have "outings", or so we call, activities. The local gang usually hangs out at a shopping mall, and contemplate on stuff they will like to... lift. After many shoves and whimp-calling. A feeble teen is chosen. Already wetting his pants, he attempts to pocket that new Jay Chou album while the rest of his team stay on high alert... looking out for uniformed old men nearing their eigthes, whom are supposed to be able to catch up to teenage shoplifters. The coast is clear, the teen strides with an aura of confidence out of the shop, thinking that he has succeeded. Seconds later, sirens blare, and he starts crapping in his pants. His "team" scatters out of sight so fast, breaking the sound barrier in the process. The teen panics and is eventually held down by old men in blue, catching up in their walking sticks. Only when the CD is retrieved from him does the teen realise there's a sensor tag there...THEY are the only reason why you see your local security do not bother to hire able-bodied guards.
The overseas gang however sits quietly in a van with ski-masks on. The doors suddenly slide open and they exit, spotting their target. Seconds later, they are back in the van, with the victim. No questions asked.
Ascension
All management systems require a hierarchy of authority, "ranks" or so to say. In the local gang because of their limited activities, there are basically not many chances to ascend to new heights. Your rank is determined by your loyalty as a dog to your gang, and the amount of cash you steal for your boss.
Because of the wide range of social activies the overseas triad engages in, from Arson to Assassination, there is very much chance for a newcomer to climb the ladder quickly. Activies come with credit points, depending on their level of stupidity. Also, honour comes from your abilities to destroy your liver. Being able to empty 4 bottles of vodka also make you respected.
Aggression
" EH, YOU STARE WAD STARE? " This line, recited more times then the bible, is the oldest testament a gangster will use as a pick-up line. Usually the aggressor will reciprocate with similar language, punctuated by a string of vulgarities. The situation heats up, the number of members on both sides multiply faster then Anthrax released in Beijing. It looks like a bloody battle is about to begin.... Then suddenly, one man from a side steps forward, while the rest back off... the other side complies, sending out their best man. The chosen warriors step forward. This is it, it looks like its one man for an army... this was Troy. The men inch closer, as if trying to cut the battle short... their hands extend, ready for battle................and they shake hands, saying peace.
This looks like a movie by Rudolph Maté, director of D.O.A and if I see this in a cinema, I will empty my popcorn on whoever picked this show.
We sail across the seas now, it's a crowded bar. Some people just cant keep their eyes to themselves. They must stare and glare. Unfortunately, his eyes fall on a triad boss. The boss stares back. Unsure of his dire situation, the individual continues, the boss.....smiles back at him. The individual is taken aback, and quickly turns away... All seems well... but don't look now, I think I see a Bacardi flying for him.
Verdict: Be thankful people, you live in a city where child-porn watchers hail more respect then gangsters.
If any of you decides to go into teaching, I will strongly urge you to setup a school for these lost souls on how to be a proper gangsters, but beware. This is going to be no easy feat. Besides the long hours you will have to spend to teach them how to use glue. You will have to have an eBay account, to start buying in some brains to upgrade theirs. I also recommend you send them on exchange programmes overseas to meet their fellow counterparts to learn how things should be done.
Singapore is really growing to be a pathetic nation, we don't even have proper vice.
"...its a small crime... and I've got no excuse.. is that alright?"
Cooking Mania
|
Ok, blogging now because I've more free time. Actually its just because I cannot afford another 5am slumber entry. Awoke today with a very terrifying dream, contents too shameful to divulge. Its like a graveyard in my closet.
Dream Journals, how many of you keep it? Its a diary for your mental metamorphasis. Incase you do not realise, most people do not have dream-retention. Try recalling three dreams from last week, you'd probably remember not even one.. and no.. It's not 'cause you didn't dream, you do, every night too. Ok, I used to have a dream journal, its in a form of a blog, ninjas please go find it and read it, thereafter proceed to expose my secretZ.
Over the past few weeks, I've come to realise your dreams, if you remember them well enough, are somewhat random linkages between chains of thoughts lingering in the corners of your mind. The brillance is they manage to piece into a story or scene, and the nova is that you actually buy your own bullshit. Recall: When was the last time you were conscious you were in a dream? I think I shall invest more of my efforts into dream-recall and control, I find it builds you mentally, very strongly. You should try it.
Label: Lucid Dreaming
Yesterday was a fun day. Spent at our dog's house, ( no justin, not you, ur black ). Yes, its JiaRen, he's back for a visit, so how could we miss a chance to abuse him? So we did what we do best....we make a mess. ( that rhymes you notice? ) The plan was to buy food and start cooking, however, we lacked a kitchen, this is where he comes in handy. People, do not let us into your kitchen. We will turn it into war-torn Iraq.
So the cooking was fun, except for the onions. Onions do turn you into a pussy, you start weeping when you cut them. ( I'm a taizi at home, don't expect me to know this ) Actually, its more of an irritant, like a fly buzzing around, juz that this one goes in and out of your eyes. So we were about done with all the food, then we started cleaning up a little. That was when I saw Brian sweating terribly by the sink. I went to look, and started laughing.
Underpaid Child Labour
HAHHAA. You'll have to excuse my shaky hands. Brian was busy scrubbing the pan, which was covered in burnt onions. He was like *omg, please dont stick there, come off*. It was like looking at those maids scrubbing stains off the floor, or the employer will deduct their pay.
*No Mum! I'am sorry Mum! No cut my pay!*
Brian: "I wish those TV commercials on those cleaners really work" HAHAHHAHAHA. He was scrubbing really hard. When it finally came off, after I recommended JIF, Brian was like : "yay, no need pay for new one". HAHAHAHAHAH
And so, after waiting for princess, we finally could eat.
You'll always see CA drinking, never eating.
Everyone please take notice of LY, he looks happy, and perfectly sane... right? Yup. Right, later that'll change. Great food, great place, just tuck-in (:
Then came the red wine..
So it was on to prance on JiaRen's piano, making hell of a ruckus, wrathing our presence across the silence and darkness that shrouded us. All was swell until JiaRen's mom came and said, "Guys I think you all have to quieten down abit, its almost eleven" I was like OMGWTFBBQ, my mental clock was only bidding at about eight.. maybe nine?
The wine had sunk in, you can see more people smiling. However, I'd like to highlight LiangYu, please take a look at the pic below to see the........ small difference in his appearance.
You no make hulk angry~!
Some of us.... like *HULK SMASH* got so drunk... that we were doing stupid things like threathening to wank into wine bottles. The more sober of us took a video which we tried to publish but due to *YOU NO MAKE HULK ANGRY* ... some.... issues. I am sorry to say I am unable to do so.
Dream Journals, how many of you keep it? Its a diary for your mental metamorphasis. Incase you do not realise, most people do not have dream-retention. Try recalling three dreams from last week, you'd probably remember not even one.. and no.. It's not 'cause you didn't dream, you do, every night too. Ok, I used to have a dream journal, its in a form of a blog, ninjas please go find it and read it, thereafter proceed to expose my secretZ.
Over the past few weeks, I've come to realise your dreams, if you remember them well enough, are somewhat random linkages between chains of thoughts lingering in the corners of your mind. The brillance is they manage to piece into a story or scene, and the nova is that you actually buy your own bullshit. Recall: When was the last time you were conscious you were in a dream? I think I shall invest more of my efforts into dream-recall and control, I find it builds you mentally, very strongly. You should try it.
Label: Lucid Dreaming
Yesterday was a fun day. Spent at our dog's house, ( no justin, not you, ur black ). Yes, its JiaRen, he's back for a visit, so how could we miss a chance to abuse him? So we did what we do best....we make a mess. ( that rhymes you notice? ) The plan was to buy food and start cooking, however, we lacked a kitchen, this is where he comes in handy. People, do not let us into your kitchen. We will turn it into war-torn Iraq.
So the cooking was fun, except for the onions. Onions do turn you into a pussy, you start weeping when you cut them. ( I'm a taizi at home, don't expect me to know this ) Actually, its more of an irritant, like a fly buzzing around, juz that this one goes in and out of your eyes. So we were about done with all the food, then we started cleaning up a little. That was when I saw Brian sweating terribly by the sink. I went to look, and started laughing.
Underpaid Child Labour
HAHHAA. You'll have to excuse my shaky hands. Brian was busy scrubbing the pan, which was covered in burnt onions. He was like *omg, please dont stick there, come off*. It was like looking at those maids scrubbing stains off the floor, or the employer will deduct their pay.
*No Mum! I'am sorry Mum! No cut my pay!*
Brian: "I wish those TV commercials on those cleaners really work" HAHAHHAHAHA. He was scrubbing really hard. When it finally came off, after I recommended JIF, Brian was like : "yay, no need pay for new one". HAHAHAHAHAH
And so, after waiting for princess, we finally could eat.
You'll always see CA drinking, never eating.
Everyone please take notice of LY, he looks happy, and perfectly sane... right? Yup. Right, later that'll change. Great food, great place, just tuck-in (:
Then came the red wine..
So it was on to prance on JiaRen's piano, making hell of a ruckus, wrathing our presence across the silence and darkness that shrouded us. All was swell until JiaRen's mom came and said, "Guys I think you all have to quieten down abit, its almost eleven" I was like OMGWTFBBQ, my mental clock was only bidding at about eight.. maybe nine?
The wine had sunk in, you can see more people smiling. However, I'd like to highlight LiangYu, please take a look at the pic below to see the........ small difference in his appearance.
You no make hulk angry~!
Some of us.... like *HULK SMASH* got so drunk... that we were doing stupid things like threathening to wank into wine bottles. The more sober of us took a video which we tried to publish but due to *YOU NO MAKE HULK ANGRY* ... some.... issues. I am sorry to say I am unable to do so.
Well It was a great day spent, eating together is always a good thing (:
PS: Brian, changed. just for you.
For everything else, theres udon
|
Packet of Maggie Noodles : $0.50
Heating up a pot of water: $0.10
Visit to the doctor: $37.00
Burning in hell for two hours at 2am: Priceless
There are some things money cant buy, for everything else, there's Soba.
Haven't been blogging for sometime now, apologies to my religious readers like Ms.Chew, who right now as I'm blogging is hitting F5 in fanatic anticipation. It's not really my fault, blogging with 8 fingers just isn't right. So it was a typical night at unearthly hours, when the rest of the city is deep in slumber, I was stirring a pot of noodles, cooking it.
I was bringing it carefully to my room, when I realised the lights were off. Nvm, so I just wandered in the darkness when suddenly something hot hit my hand. In tolerance, I continued my voyage, however, the scald caused me to tilt the bowl slightly, resulting in more spills. The heat was too intense, I let go, and the bowl collasped. I stuffed my hands into my shirt instantly, hoping to drain off the heat. It was REALLY very hot, never got scalded this badly before. My bro awoke from the din, he took his handphone and illuminated the area, to reveal noodles strewn across.
Usually, most burns once you drain the water off, dosent hurt anymore. This one was different. It continued. I chiong-ed to the kitchen almost instantly. The best thing my bro just went back to sleep. BWG man.
Along my way, as the light from the kitchen hit my hand, I was shocked. WTF, the SKIN TEAR OFF, and my FINGERS LOOKED FUNNY! OMG! The cool water from the tap rejuventated me. The burn stopped for a while. I thought, okay, not bad already. Suddenly, even under the running water, the skin felt hot.. it was burning again...
Too pain liao. I took iced water and drumped my whole container ice in it. Dropping my hand it, it felt better....... That was when I took this pic.
1.45am, ouch!
See the blisters? See the skin? Omg..? Suddenly, the heat began rising again. I decided I needed some help. So called my MA. However, that smart girl told me to put under running tap water again. Trusting her SJAB badge (not her, her brain rivals a turkey), I proceeded, only to JUMP in more pain. TAP water felt like BOILING water, anyone try before!?!?!
I dipped back into the iced water, however, the burn was getting worse.... MA say must dry with cloth, so I took my hand out of the water. As soon as the air started evaporating its contents... OMG, you can imagine how I felt. Girls, its like taking qinshi out for valentines. You get my intent right..?
Each passing second proved to be a micrphone for pain. I hastily applied the burn cream to my hand, but the burn wasn't stopping, still very pain. It got worse and worse, The skin tear was already bleeding pus. Went to lie on the sofa after MA say must try to sleep. YAYA, sleep in that kind of pain SIA.
Rolled.. endlessly in pain. The pain comes in waves, every occasional moment, it'll subside, then building up and biting you square in the ass. The burn is horrible, heat mortifying. I tossed and turned, losing track of time...
I gained conscious again, however, it was still dark. The pain was *slightly* better, I checked. 4am, I was burning in hell for two hours.
Waited till daybreak. Then decided I needed some professional help.
8.45am See that nice boil?
Walked into a pharmacy,
Me: "Erm, excuse me. Sorry to disturb so early but.. I have a small burn..."
She: "Let me see....?"
*shows my chio hand*
She: *eyes bigger then my wound* " AIYOH, GO SEE A DOCTOR!"
No questions asked. I left, going to see the doctor.
People, let this be a stern warning, Do NOT endanger your life by cooking maggie noodles. They are harzadous and should be classified under Type-1 WOMD. In the event you really have to, please put on the following safety equipment:
1) Latex Gloves
2) Ski Mittens
3) NASA SuitSat-1 (http://www.cq-vhf.com/Spr06S4.gif)
Avoiding any of these safety equipment is abeit to bungee jumping on your home-econs needle thread. Call me paranoid, its YOUR life you're risking. Maggie noodles risk your complexion, skin, and probably other more *important organs*. "You can disagree, but you are wrong" (thebutterfly, 2007). And HEY, we're not even talking what the noodles do to you on the inside. STAY away, I'd recommend soba if you really need to eat worms.
Life goes on, although typing becomes a bitch. Keyboard training goes on. Marriage D'Amour is 90% complete. Infact as I'm typing, I can play the song with not many hitches. BTW do you realise it only needs 8 fingers, and none of which I injure? Coincidence? You wish, so zhun meh? God? Please, he dosent have time for me (RELIGIOUS PPL GET OFF MY BACK, THIS IS MY BLOG. I SHALL POST WHAT I WANT AND U CANT DO ANYTHING DAMMIT!) The answer is simple, as the hot water was reaching for me in attempt to disrupt my training, I quickly evaded it, only letting in scald less important fingers. "You can disagree, but you are wrong" (thebutterfly, 2007).
My Kawarimi is way too fast, Lee can eat my dust.
Moving around in wrapped fingers is NOT funny, and if I catch anyone of you laughing, I will make you cook instant noodles. Try me.
Heating up a pot of water: $0.10
Visit to the doctor: $37.00
Burning in hell for two hours at 2am: Priceless
There are some things money cant buy, for everything else, there's Soba.
Haven't been blogging for sometime now, apologies to my religious readers like Ms.Chew, who right now as I'm blogging is hitting F5 in fanatic anticipation. It's not really my fault, blogging with 8 fingers just isn't right. So it was a typical night at unearthly hours, when the rest of the city is deep in slumber, I was stirring a pot of noodles, cooking it.
I was bringing it carefully to my room, when I realised the lights were off. Nvm, so I just wandered in the darkness when suddenly something hot hit my hand. In tolerance, I continued my voyage, however, the scald caused me to tilt the bowl slightly, resulting in more spills. The heat was too intense, I let go, and the bowl collasped. I stuffed my hands into my shirt instantly, hoping to drain off the heat. It was REALLY very hot, never got scalded this badly before. My bro awoke from the din, he took his handphone and illuminated the area, to reveal noodles strewn across.
Usually, most burns once you drain the water off, dosent hurt anymore. This one was different. It continued. I chiong-ed to the kitchen almost instantly. The best thing my bro just went back to sleep. BWG man.
Along my way, as the light from the kitchen hit my hand, I was shocked. WTF, the SKIN TEAR OFF, and my FINGERS LOOKED FUNNY! OMG! The cool water from the tap rejuventated me. The burn stopped for a while. I thought, okay, not bad already. Suddenly, even under the running water, the skin felt hot.. it was burning again...
Too pain liao. I took iced water and drumped my whole container ice in it. Dropping my hand it, it felt better....... That was when I took this pic.
1.45am, ouch!
See the blisters? See the skin? Omg..? Suddenly, the heat began rising again. I decided I needed some help. So called my MA. However, that smart girl told me to put under running tap water again. Trusting her SJAB badge (not her, her brain rivals a turkey), I proceeded, only to JUMP in more pain. TAP water felt like BOILING water, anyone try before!?!?!
I dipped back into the iced water, however, the burn was getting worse.... MA say must dry with cloth, so I took my hand out of the water. As soon as the air started evaporating its contents... OMG, you can imagine how I felt. Girls, its like taking qinshi out for valentines. You get my intent right..?
Each passing second proved to be a micrphone for pain. I hastily applied the burn cream to my hand, but the burn wasn't stopping, still very pain. It got worse and worse, The skin tear was already bleeding pus. Went to lie on the sofa after MA say must try to sleep. YAYA, sleep in that kind of pain SIA.
Rolled.. endlessly in pain. The pain comes in waves, every occasional moment, it'll subside, then building up and biting you square in the ass. The burn is horrible, heat mortifying. I tossed and turned, losing track of time...
I gained conscious again, however, it was still dark. The pain was *slightly* better, I checked. 4am, I was burning in hell for two hours.
Waited till daybreak. Then decided I needed some professional help.
8.45am See that nice boil?
Walked into a pharmacy,
Me: "Erm, excuse me. Sorry to disturb so early but.. I have a small burn..."
She: "Let me see....?"
*shows my chio hand*
She: *eyes bigger then my wound* " AIYOH, GO SEE A DOCTOR!"
No questions asked. I left, going to see the doctor.
People, let this be a stern warning, Do NOT endanger your life by cooking maggie noodles. They are harzadous and should be classified under Type-1 WOMD. In the event you really have to, please put on the following safety equipment:
1) Latex Gloves
2) Ski Mittens
3) NASA SuitSat-1 (http://www.cq-vhf.com/Spr06S4.gif)
Avoiding any of these safety equipment is abeit to bungee jumping on your home-econs needle thread. Call me paranoid, its YOUR life you're risking. Maggie noodles risk your complexion, skin, and probably other more *important organs*. "You can disagree, but you are wrong" (thebutterfly, 2007). And HEY, we're not even talking what the noodles do to you on the inside. STAY away, I'd recommend soba if you really need to eat worms.
Life goes on, although typing becomes a bitch. Keyboard training goes on. Marriage D'Amour is 90% complete. Infact as I'm typing, I can play the song with not many hitches. BTW do you realise it only needs 8 fingers, and none of which I injure? Coincidence? You wish, so zhun meh? God? Please, he dosent have time for me (RELIGIOUS PPL GET OFF MY BACK, THIS IS MY BLOG. I SHALL POST WHAT I WANT AND U CANT DO ANYTHING DAMMIT!) The answer is simple, as the hot water was reaching for me in attempt to disrupt my training, I quickly evaded it, only letting in scald less important fingers. "You can disagree, but you are wrong" (thebutterfly, 2007).
My Kawarimi is way too fast, Lee can eat my dust.
Moving around in wrapped fingers is NOT funny, and if I catch anyone of you laughing, I will make you cook instant noodles. Try me.