Funky Fizzi. Right.

The Battlefield

2006-04-07T06:49:00.000+08:00

You know what I hate more than getting beaten up? Well of course you don't, but yeah I'm going to tell you what it is. See parents know their children very well nowadays, because for example, the moment that little brat of theirs makes the (most of the time small and insignificant) mistake of making a mistake, the parents swiftly devise a strategy to handle the problem at hand. Even if it really isn't a problem, they'll make sure it will be one. And when they go to war with the child, they would eventually always win, because, for one, they know our weaknesses. They know what it is that'll have us on our knees, moaning and groaning in helplessness, just like Superman would do should he be in the presence of Kryptonite. Parents have our Kryptonite. They have their secret weapon, and mothers aren't afraid to utilise it and fire at will should the need arises.

See what I hate more that getting beaten up, is that secret weapon of theirs: the mouth. Yes, they nag.

I'm telling you, when they nag, you're done. If you fight back, you're just fighting a lost battle. Because, whatever your reaction to their nagging, it will only become a motive for them to ramble on.

For example, your mum goes:

"Tsk, you never bother to wash the dishes..."

You, with all the ego raging, talk back:

"What do you mean always? I washed it yesterday and the day - "

Mum goes gung-ho:

"Don't you dare talk back to me! How dare you. For 18 years I raise you and this is what I get? Wait til your dad hears about this. Other children aren't like you. Tsk."

You've lost. You're Dead. Toast. Sayonara. Just go to your room and turn on some loud Pussycat Dolls music.

See other than nagging, they also have other strategies that complement the initial one. For one, they always team up. Whatever mum says, dad agrees, and adds on. Vice versa. I mean, we can't do the same. We can't "team up" with our siblings and go fighting back, because that will only be seen as a mass "talking-back" attempt. And the consequences of that would be traumatising I assume (I've never tried it before, so I'm just guessing here).

Next up, they have the classic comparison-to-back-when-they-were-children tactic. They'll always go:

"Back in my days, I never dared to talk back. Tsk, now..."

Followed by the side-to-side shaking of the head to show their disappointment.

This I find most frustrating of all. It's as if to say that people from the old days are much better human beings than us. Right. So the modern teenager is always the manacing kind to roam the world.

You might wonder (or not) about this out-of-the-blue burst of teenage frustration from me. Well it just so happens that I was nagged by my own father and mother about a very cheesy problem. I did the huge mistake of gobbling up a whole serving of cheesecake, leaving nothing for the rest of the family. That got my mum pissed off, and blew her fuse. She rattled on and on about how I'm always (always?? I totally disagree) inconsiderate and greedy (well this I'm with her). And conveniently, my dad joins in the scene, and starts adding on stuffs like how I always spend hours in front of the laptop and shit, which is totally true, but, totally irrelevant too.

And so, what got me writing this entry, was cheesecake. Now ain't that ridiculous.

Oh well, okay now that I've got everything off my chest, I'm a much healthier child now. And for the record, I love my family. Duh.

And school's starting in a few weeks. This entry might just be a warm-up.

P/S: Well speaking of cheesecakes, there's a party going on on the 15th. So anybody and everybody, go dig for the details. Contact Azhar through his HP. I mean those who read this would probably know him and have his number. So yeah ring him up. Adios.

The above P/S does not take away the drama of this entry. Bye.

The Winded Clock

2006-03-28T16:48:00.000+08:00

I was browsing through the archive of past newspapers and came across this picture, which was taken back in the 1950s. It was a captured moment of the football team who had nothing handed to them: they had no official jersey, no proper footwear to protect their feet from the hazards of the Amazon Forest which by the way was their playing venue, and most of all, they had no supporters.

And then I sat back and thought to myself: why'd the journalist even bother to write an article on these losers?

The answer to that is, well, because 56 years down the road, the 11 virgins (yes they're the only professional footballers to have not lost their virginity yet) decided to reunite and hopefully revive the one thing that they had always shared in common: the ambition to win their first ever match. These virgins called themselves "Team Hummel".

That ambition of theirs was granted in the form of a victory against an unranked and unknown team which somehow gave the Hummelians a feeling which was far from unsatisfaction. Perhaps it was the sheer magnitude of the victory which gave them the euphoria more than anything else. They won 5-2.

Funky Fizzi News reporter Abdul Hafiz, who also played in the match, was quick to grab the microphone from the dressing room after the game to earn an exclusive interview with the goal-scorers for Team Hummel.

Fizzi: So, your first ever goal huh? How do you feel?

Azree: (Smirks) First goal? Heh, right. And I'm handsome.

Fizzi: Oh, erm, right sorry. I mean you are the greedy one in front of goal, so, it has to be what, like your hundredth goal or something?

Azree: (Grabs Fizzi by the collar and holds him against the wall) Now you listen here smart ass, I've had enough of all your pathetic overly-sarcastic comments. I'm sick of all this bullshit. For goodness sake give an ugly man a chance to live a peaceful life! (Lets go of Fizzi) Alright c'mmon guys. This dude doesn't deserve to talk to us.

So that was about the only conversation Funky Fizzi managed to recall. The rest of the interview wasn't recorded because our imbecilic reporter had forgotten to switch the microphone on...

To read the rest of the article, subscribe to Funky Fizzi Monthly.

The Prey

2006-03-26T02:29:00.000+08:00

Yes, boredom can kill you. If you really think about it, this "boredom" thing has been hunting for you all your life. It's almost like you're constantly running away from it, and you would do anything from mapling (which I totally do not resort to) to having one night stands (which I'm still enjoying), just to get yourself out of its sight. If you're too slow to run or to think of anything else, then the almighty and evil boredom would eat your insides which would probably include some if not most of your grey matter (which explains why you're just plain dumb during the holidays), and perhaps last night's half-digested dinner.

Yes boredom is a hunter, a killer, a hunting killer. And I'm the prey.

Cat and I are writing a promising science/sex/love (circle one of these, even we don't know how to describe the genre) story which is, so far, pretty much pointless. And you would probably agree with me (and I think you most definitely would because anything that involves degrading myself would definitely get a nod from you assholes):

Jake lifted up his pillow and gasped. He felt so cold.

"Where's the blanket?" he whispered to himself, "and my clothes?"

Amidst his petty worries, little did he know what he had done the night before. As soon as realisation hit him, he jerked away from his bed and began searching frantically for his wallet, all the while, covering his bare self with the flimsy blanket.

Beside him lay a veluptuous figure worthy of being called a goddess. He did not notice her until she gave a dainty cough, and purred,

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Well not after last night!" he scowled.

She smiled and kept silent as she watched him open the drawers and cursing loudly to himself. It was so typical of Rita: adding more rage to the raged with the ever-so-classic silent treatment.

Jake couldn't believe he'd fall for it everytime. He was always the prey, although all this while he had been the one doing the chasing - or so he thought. He finally had enough of it.

The silence was deafening though Rita seemed to enjoy it. Jake decided to spoil her game.

Just then, the door burst open, revealing a dark burly figure. The figure headed towards Jake, taking long strides yet at a gradual pace. For once, Rita looked shocked and incomposed.

As the figure walked past the sunlight beaming through the window, his - its - face was revealed.

"Dad?" Jake heaved.

Rita, for all her high education with all the certificates framed on her wall, couldn't unscramble the puzzle that lay in front of her...

Can you?

Well that's pretty much it for the time being. Actually, we started to utter bloody nonsense after that last line after she mentioned E.T. and martians, and our already-wild imagination started getting wilder, exploring the mysterious and enigmatic life in outer space. So we shall see how it progresses from here.

Today, the official 25-buck Team Hummel jersey made its debut on a rather treacherous piece of land (well actually only the goalie area was) that is the Pasir Ris Crest football field. In spite of the unforeseen weather, the field did not turn out to be the quagmire I had expected it to be - which was a positive thing of course. The end result of the match was an even more positive thing: 5-2 to us. To get a detailed (and biased) report of the match, refer to the latest update by Hummel, or Din. If soccer's not your serving of carviar, read it for good laughs.

Anyway, I saw a hilarious one-liner on a shirt, a football shirt, today. It read, bolded in red:

I scored last night.

And now, let me have my next plate of one night stand. It involves mesos, scrolls, and elixirs. If you don't have a clue what the hell I'm talking about, let me try my very direct approach:

I'm going to play Maple Story.

Now get the fuck out.

"If I say it's cool, you better believe it."

The Wait

2006-03-06T22:39:00.000+08:00

I sat on that old typical wooden bench, with my legs crossed, and not a single person in sight. In the background I heard screechings, the sounds of which I knew sooner or later, I'd contribute to myself, we would contribute to ourselves. The place reeked of a smell which was so familiar to my nose. What is it? I couldn't recall.

I held a weapon tight in my arms. I had to make sure it would be in perfect condition later on. I couldn't take any chances with it. It wasn't mine. I placed a package in between my legs on the floor, squeezing them together just as tightly, just to make sure not a single damn soul could get a hold of it. Time check: 1310 hrs.

Where were you guys?

I saw a figure approach me. Hung around his shoulder, was a weapon, the same weapon I had in my arms. Then came in two other guys. One of them brought along a package, although it had no resemblance to the one I had in between my legs. This one was bigger. Yes, the three figures were the guys I had been waiting for. Let's do it guys. It's time.

We nodded. Each of us understood what was to be done. Now with the package in my right hand and the weapon in my left, I got up from the old bench and led the way. We headed towards the source of the screeching sounds, the sounds which we'd contribute to in a while. An obstacle stood in our way, but this one was easy to overcome. It was a mere door. I turned the knob. We walked in. We're here.

But, so were the others. They were there too. In fact, they had been there for a long time. The cold sweat on their faces and the perspirations that soaked their shirts told us so. You'd think they'd quit by then, but no, they went on with their shots and smashings.

We continued our way to our designated dot on the map. En route there, nobody dared to look at us, for they had no business to watch. We finally reached our spot. Straight away, we unpacked our packages, and loaded our weapons. We took our shots. We made our smashings. All that, while our shoes screeched on the floor.

We were having a game called badminton.

HAHA. But yeah, so the guys were late. I waited for them outside the court for like half an hour. The weapon by the way was a racket, and the package was, well, a bag. And I didn't expect that many people to play on a Monday. I thought they'd all be working or going to school or something. Well I guess it's the semester break for them too. Badminton was fun, and it got my heart pumping at an even higher pace than it would if I see Jessica Alba nude right in front of me. Yeah, it was pumping THAT fast.

Let's see what awaits me tommorow. Sayonara. Oh, and you must watch Sin City if you haven't already.

The Call

2006-03-03T04:04:00.000+08:00

And so I was strolling my way to the bus stop right to go home (after the Apple shit), and then, I felt something was missing. It took a while for me to figure out what it was, but eventually (about a second or two later) when I did, I continued with my journey with a smile whilst in the back of my mind I bred a sinister plan.

You see, I had lost my phone. I think I left it at the library, but I was too lazy to get it back because it was really not worthy of my time. So I hatched an idea for a way to get a new phone from my parents. With each step closer to the bus stop, I drew out my evil plan mentally:

"Okay, now here's what we should do fiz. We don't have to worry bout the phone cos firstly, the prepaid card's valueless, and secondly, the phone's equally worthless. So yeah, no guilt there my bro. Now for the plan. We come home with a worried look on our face. You follow me? Okay then, slowly but not suspiciously, we go to mum, giving that I-have-bad-news look. Then we start telling her the story about how our phone has lasted for over 2 years, and that we deserve a new one anyway. And by then, she'll prolly go jus a LITTLE berserk, but it'll still be fine in a while cos she'll cool down and prolly give the nod to a new phone. And then, VICTORY shall be ours, and we can finally...."

Then, I felt something vibrate in my bag. Damn, sneaky phone. How'd you get in there. It wasn't lost after all.

And waddya know, mum's calling. Gah.

The phone that never was.

Angst.

2006-03-01T02:15:00.000+08:00

It's creeping all over me. This feeling of irritation towards something you can't explain. It takes over all other emotions you have inside of you. You try to make it go away, but it won't, and eventually you get even more frustrated at it, which would only show how successful it is at controlling you. Except that, this something, is really nothing.

I don't make sense. I mean, yeah, I've never been making any sense all this while, but this, this is something else. As in, even I myself don't get what I'm feeling.

It's one of those nights again, where nothing can satisfy or fill that little thing you call boredom. Not a joke. Not a game. Not a show on TV. Not a damn thing. And worst of all, not even sleep. So I'm really left helpless with nothing out there that could possibly add a little glimmer to this mundane night. But God created women. And you would think that they might just be my saving grace. Nope. Well at least not tonight. Not when you have people like Xiaxue who blogs about PARSLEY. And I'm supposed to read that and hope that it'd brighten up my dark night? Hah.

Okay enough said. Let's sleep it off.

Hah. Why hello to you too. You caught me. Only those who manage to read this shall know that... Let's save it for another night, another time.

Death Cab

2006-02-27T18:27:00.000+08:00

No not the band. I was scanning through Azhar's now defunct blog and came across the entry on his encounter with an interesting yet peculiar taxi driver. That experience of his brought me back to a couple of weeks ago when, if I remembered correctly, I was late for Mediasoc tutorial.

So I hopped onto a cab to school, and hey, the driver was a malay-cum-thai-cum-tamil-cum-viatnamese-cum-french-cum-german-speaking chinese taxi driver. And yes, he demonstrated all the languages to me along the journey. So he started off with "Apa khabar (how are you)?", and went on speaking in unfamiliar languages, like say, I've no idea. But according to him, he was conversing in French and German and all those languages that one would be boastful to know about. Yes he was a fucking show-off.

So, halfway through the journey, he was going on and on about what smart asses his children are:

Taxi dude: Wah I tell you, Uncle's children very smart one. My eldest son is in NUS, my daughter is in La'Selle (or however you spell it), and my youngest child is in JC. They all ah... (pauses for a while to focus on the road as he steers to the next lane)

Fizzi: Hmm, not bad ah un- (cut off short)

Taxi dude: Yeah uncle was saying, wah they all ah really make me proud la. Some more ah, they- (BRAKES HARD TO AVOID CRASHING INTO THE VAN IN FRONT)

Fizzi: wah cheebye uncle, knnbccb *&%^$%!! (I nearly peed in my pants, but i didn't of course).

Taxi dude: (Seeing that everyone (being me and him) was fine, he went on to step on the gas)

And to my utter disbelief.... he.... well...he continued where he left off! As if nothing had happened.

Taxi dude: Hmm, oh yeah, uncle was saying again ah, my sons and daughter.........blah blah

Who does he think he is? Jackie Chan in The Tuxedo? Since that day, I never took a cab again. Right up until a couple of days later when I was late for school once more.

Back to Dominick.

Voila.

2006-02-26T04:15:00.000+08:00

Yeah so I hadn't been updating for like a couple of weeks, or maybe months, but yeah what's so surprising about that when you had Apple to take over your life.

Apparently Shu asked me out to mug with her and Drew. Right. When Shu when? So I called her to clarify things.

Fiz: Eh shu, you got ask me go out to study ah? When sia?

Shu: Yeah got what, you told me you were going out with your buddies.

Fiz: I did? When? On MSN?

Shu: No not on MSN...

Fiz: Oookay. Then it can't possibly be over SMS because I didn't receive any.

Shu: Oh really? Hmm, I think it was in my dreams la.

Right. Just a dream. That really reminds me of a typical cliched storyline for a primary school composition (or at least I wrote those type of shit back then). Whatever the topic turned out to be, it'll eventually end with something like:

"...Suddenly, I heard the alarm clock ring. Somebody was shouting WAKE UP FIZ WAKE UP. I opened my eyes. It was just a dream."

Don't bloody laugh at me, I'm sure you did this too. But yeah, so basically you HAVE to watch Saw II if you haven't already. Rent the DVD, VCD, video tape, whatever. Watch it. The twist was brilliant I tell you.

Okay so I haven't started on Medisoc. So what? I'm trying to be rebellious okay. I'm 18. A teenager. And teenagers are supposed to be full of angst, rebellion, envy (over stupid stuffs like, say, others' bigger boobs). So here I am REFUSING to study. Screw it.

Shit it's Sunday. Only 1 day left to the paper. Tell you what: screw rebellion. Here I come Suja.

2006-01-07T00:29:00.000+08:00

Hey guys! You know what? Take a look at my October 28 entry, and read it. Done? Read it again. Done again? Okay. So you see the part which says "I love advertising/marketing"? Well now. Fuck it. Screw that statement. I retract it. I don't think I need to further elaborate why. The marketing revision we had at Holland V just now, however, was fun, and surprisingly, productive. 5 chapters down. Why am I italicising these sentences? I've no idea.

I just suddenly feel like blogging because suddenly - for the first time - it is much more fun than something else, which in this case is studying for marketing. So, well, let's see, what should I talk about now? Well apparently there is this thing called "Valentine's Day". I'm disappointed to say Gladys doesn't want to go out with me (HAHA), so I'm really left date-less, which is really rarely the case. Okay, so you caught me. I lied. Well honestly, I don't care about this "special" day. It was made to make people burn their wallets, and in case they literally do that, it makes them buy new ones.

Everybody knows holidays are just there so that businesses can sell their stupid gifts and flowers and whatever romantic crap they have. Either that, or I'm just a cheapskate. Yes I see you mumbling "cheapskate" there. Oh well, whatever makes you happy.

Point is (actually there is no point to my story, I just say this as a prelude to the end of my entry), I'll just spend February whatever at home, watching TV, whilst being online, thinking of a new entry. Cheers.

P/S: It's only January and I'm already talking bout Valentine's. But since Gladys and Co. brought the subject up just now in canteen 1, I had to approach the matter critically as soon as possible. HAH. :)

5 things

2005-12-24T00:59:00.000+08:00

What fuck? Who came up with the stupid idea of having to share some stupid 5 things? But yeah here goes. Please note: this is just meant to shut shu ying toh up. Peace.

1) I'm a virgin.
2) I'm broke.
3) Don't know how, but I plan to be a millionaire.
4) Mysterious Cassanova is Azhar. There the secret's out (if it's even a secret to start with).
5) I love OC. I confess publicly. There.

So yeah now you can shut up shu ying. :)

2005-11-09T21:38:00.000+08:00

Heh.

No.1

2005-11-07T03:26:00.000+08:00

I just have to dedicate one whole post to tennis. A man named Ljubicic is really making his mark in the tennis scene now, and it'll only do wonders for the sport, for Nadal and Federer really need some challengers. Speaking of Federer, I haven't seen him play for quite some time now, and I'm starting to miss that cool personality of his. Yet at the same time, he is brutal, ruthless, and perhaps invincible when going against any given opponent (with the exception of Nadal of course). I have to admit, he single-handedly converted me to a tennis fan.

Last year, I kept hearing his name on the news, and if I could recall, it was always about him winning a match and proceeding to the next round. I wondered at that time: Who is this man? Is he really that good? So I started to tune in to tennis and catch a match or two. Then I saw the Australian Open earlier this year. The semi-final clash between hot-tempred Safin and cool-headed Federer was such an absorbing match, I would dare say it was an even better experience than today's Man Utd-Chelsea match. Slowly, I started to pick up certain tennis lingos, and learned about the rules of the game eg. the scoring system. Then I realise I had been missing a lot all these years.

There are soccer fans. There are tennis fans. Then, there are sports fans. Trust me, these 3 groups of people may look the same, but really they are not. The soccer fans boo every other sports on the planet. They drink, eat, and sleep football. They jeer the opponents of their supporting team. They are also perhaps the most diverse and "heterogeneous" (haha) group of people in the world. The tennis fans, on the other hand, are really generally a smart bunch. They appreciate the sport, and though they may have their own favourite players, they never demoralise the opponent. They respect the game. I think that's probably why you have companies like Rolex and Mercedes-Benz sponsoring the tournaments. You don't see these names in soccer. It's just not right. Finally, there are the sports fans. These guys are truly the people who just love to see the wonders that any and every sport have to offer. They want to witness every record being broken. They want to be there when history is being made - be it on a football field, on a tennis court, a basketball court, or heck even in billiards halls.

I belong to the third group. Yes, I am proud to be a sports fan. In an ideal world, I'd probably want to work for ESPN. But, it never is an ideal world isn't it?

Passion

2005-11-07T02:46:00.000+08:00

If anyone steps up to me and asks for the definition of the word "passion", I shall ignore my dusty and untouched dictionary, and proudly show him a video of the "Man Utd vs Chelsea, 7th November 2005" match. My god, I could hardly believe it, and I'm all bruised after countlessly pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I pinched myself last week when Man Utd lost to Boro, and again when they lost to Lille. On both ocassions I felt extremely disappointed when I realised it wasn't a dream. Today, however, thank god it isn't.

Man Utd is really a complicated club these days. There are times when you think they're purposely losing matches just to follow the script of perhaps a movie sequel for "Goal". Then, there are other times, such as today, where they remind you of the treble days. An unpredictable bunch they are, and perhaps, that is exactly why I love them. You never know what's around the corner when you're a Man Utd fan. Then again, I really hope they consolidate their win today by winning all the upcoming matches, especially the "easy" ones. It is time to scrap that unpredictability about them, and start planting fear into their opponents.

I know the girls would probably go, "Men and soccer." Well let me just say one thing, the day when soccer isn't a popular sport anymore is probably the day when women get more attention from their men. If more matches like what we saw today await us in the future, then girls, get something else to play or have fun with. An iPod perhaps?

volvo

2005-10-28T04:20:00.000+08:00

When you can't wait to go for a certain class known as Marketing, you start doing things like this. I love advertising. :)

2005-10-27T15:00:00.000+08:00

If women understood soccer, Jose Mourinho would have some explaining to do when he gets back to his wife. Chelsea losing to Charlton, or come to think about it, Chelsea losing alone makes better news than Elton John's confession that he's you-know-what (sorry Elton, I needed an analogy).

Before the match, Chelsea's assistant manager told the press they were targetting all 4 trophies this season. Well, if that's the case, leave one out of the list. Oh, what? You meant to say THREE trophies instead? Oooh, I think I heard wrongly. Good job done Blues.

Meanwhile, a couple of teenagers at Old Trafford are busy celebrating a 4-1 win over a certain Barnet. Who are the teenagers? Oh, they're the players themselves! Amazing!

Oh well, that's all I wanted to say. My insides were clogged with delight, so I had to spit them out here. Just like what Charlton said to Chelsea last night, let me say: BYE BYE!

"[N]ot important," said Mourinho. Loser.

Red Hot Chili Pepper

2005-10-25T00:17:00.000+08:00

Lemon grass stems, tomatoes, small ultra red hot chillis, ginger, and some green leaves, are the "unsung heroes" of a classic spicy Asian cuisine otherwise known as Tom Yam. These are the ingredients which give the dish its own unique head-bursting-ly hot taste, leaving your face as red as Superman's underwear.

Unfortunately for them, they eventually become remnants, only fit for the thrash bin. However, if you happen to be with 5 other friends, and are hanging out at a coffee shop at 11 pm or so, and have nothing to do, and are desperately in need of a cheap thrill (okay that was a mouthful of words; let me take a breath or two), you can actually have some fun out of them.

Trust me, those ingredients do not merit a trip down your digestive system, for they look and probably taste like crap. My friend Azree though, feels it's worth it, since a certain other friend of mine, who apparently couldn't find a better way of spending 10 bucks, dared him to go through hell on earth by gulping everything down.

Azree took a moment to work out his strategy, mentally labelling each ingredient with a number to decide which one to eat first and which one to come next. As the rest of us watched this desperately-in-need-of-money friend of ours, he decided to start with the lemon grass stems. Those things look a bit like bean sprouts, but certainly don't taste like them. Bean sprouts aren't any tasty to start with. Armed with a spoon, he scooped up a couple and dumped them into his mouth. The expression on his face said it all. The rest of us sadistic people laughed. I knew Azree found it the least humorous at that time.

10 minutes or so later, he was done with the tomatoes, ginger, and green leaves. The amount of sweat he lost by that time was probably enough to fill up a whole bottle of Newater, and his face re-defined the colour red. He was now left face-to-face with the ultimate killer ingredient: the small chillis. The chillis may be small, but they're sure hot as hell. He took a deep breath, prayed to himself that it would not be his last, and devoured all 5 chillis. The rest of us were left in disbelief. We were stunned. Azree opened his mouth wide to prove his success. Unbelievable.

Azree is now 10 bucks richer. He is also probably suffering in the toilet. Oh well, the things you'd do for money.

2005-10-22T07:11:00.000+08:00

I feel refreshed. I feel revitalised. I feel like a new man (man? or boy?). After 2 straight days without sleep (Thurday and Friday), and I really mean without any amount of sleep - not even a 10 minute nap or whatever - I finally dumped myself onto my sleeping mechanism a.k.a the bed, and zzz-ed my night away for 12 straight hours. That's my record for the longest sleep ever.

I learned that without sleep, another side of you is unleashed. An alter ego awakens. You get wackier. You talk senseless (even more senseless than my usual self). And in my brain now, Thursday and Friday were registered as ONE single day.

Okay, so 2 days without sleep is not such a big deal for imsomniacs out there, but it is to me. Oh well, now I'm ready to rumble again. Ready to face the challenges that await me. My tank is fully-fueled. Oh, but wait, empty that tank, for there is more zzz-ing to go. Let's try 15 consecutive hours this time. Off to break my record!

2005-10-19T00:58:00.000+08:00

Life is full of mysteries. Life is full of questions. I have always wondered whether what we have been learning all these years are actually the truth. For example, are there really 9 planets? Did Neil Armstrong really reach the moon? Did anybody really reach the moon?

I recall reading an astronomy magazine arguing this "fact". There were actually many envidences disproving Neil Armstrong as being the first man on the moon. They analysed the many photographs taken by the space team then, and found a number of flaws. For example, Neil's shadow wasn't alligned with the sun. Also, the U.S flag looked as if it was being blown by the wind. How can that be possible, since air is non-existant in space? We shall never know, for humans keep secrets from other humans.

Even the universe has its own secrets. How big is the universe exactly? Is it never-ending? I mean, where does it end? Or is it infinitely big? Imagine what else is out there. Perhaps other species? Perhaps there are things out there controlling us? Perhaps we are merely inventions, or toys? A very advanced life form playing around with us.

Back on earth, whatever comes out in the media, are they true? When you propose to your girlfriend and she says "I do", does she really mean it (okay maybe a little irrelevant)?

Basically my point is, there is really no such thing as the truth. The truth is, there is no truth. A paradox? Go figure.

2005-10-13T00:59:00.000+08:00

So Hari Raya is just around the corner (so is the new semester), and that'll be the time where we visit each other's homes, feast on food, grab the money, and fuck off to prey on others' houses. The food and the money are basically the hallmark of this festival (to me at least), which is supposed to "mark the end of the holy month of Ramadhan" (Some holy guy, 2005). Well well, amidst all this, there are of course the things you hate about Hari Raya. Let us get into the nitty-gritty of this. I shall list the 5 most boring and stupid topics people talk about during this month of celebration:

The following scenarios involve 2 families - A & B - with each consisting of the father, mother, and say 2 children.

Father of Family A (a.k.a Father A), with the rest of his family in tow, knocks on the door of Family B.

Father A: Assalamu'alaikum! (while ringing the door bell).

Mother B opens the door.

Mother B: Wa'alaikumussalam. Oooh, it's you guys. (Turns to inform her husband of the guests) Honey! It's Family A lah! (Turns back to face the guests while unlocking the gate and ushering them in). Aiyoh, so long never see you guys la. Sit la, sit on our (new and expensive) sofa.

Mother B goes to the kitchen to prepare the food and drinks; Mother A follows suit to assist her. Meanwhile, Father B pops out of his room and sits together with the rest of family A to entertain them. Here is where we start to list the boring topics people come up with in these (awkward) situations.

#5) Father B exchanges handshakes with Father A and his children. He then applies the most cliched conversation starter.

Father B: So, not working today huh?

Father A: Yalah, today off. Nowadays also not easy to apply leave. My company is quite strict la. They want solid reasons you know. Also ah, my colleagues. Wah they all, no heart lah. Ask them to replace me, they don't want (at this point, his words seem like a detuned radio to Father B)......yadda yadda yadda....

This is a classic. I really pity the kids, because they're just sitting there with nothing to do, albeit knowing the reward of all this: money/hong bao. My goodness, why do they have to discuss about work? Note that they could go on yakking away on this topic ALONE for minutes and minutes.

#4) The conversation is interrupted by the the news. It's about some political shit. The two fathers start to "analyse" this breaking news they just heard.

Father A: Wah, USA sending help over to the Pakistanis to help the earthquake victims la. Aiyah, surely this must all be a show (proud of his ability to read between the lines)

Father B: Ya lah, this one all bullshit la. They talk only much. This Bush guy ah, aiyah, he talk cock alot la.....blah blah blah

Before anybody's thinking of arresting me for defamotary, let me first say this is JUST a scenario. :)

What's up with these uncles who just love to talk politics, complaining about the government, insulting them and all? It's as if what they discuss about can have a huge impact at all. Sometimes, they're so passionate at debating on this issue, the cup of tea or coffee served to them remains untouched for hours.

#3) Father B comments on Father A's two children (who by now wished they had a bed in front of them).

Father B: Waaah, your children big already ah? Time really flies...

Eh fucker, what do you expect? As people grow older, they grow bigger. It's the law of the world. You don't need to know biology to know this.

#2) Since they're focusing on the children, Father B asks them about school.

Father B: So, school how? Everything okay?

One of the children: Okay la. Quite stress ah (tries to keep answer as short as possible to avoid conversation).

Father B: Yalah, my sons also complain of stress. During my time, school very relaxed. Not like now. So many homework. Got CCAs la, got what lah....yadda yadda yadda

Uncle, we don't give a fuck about your teenage life. Might as well tell us about the time you lost your virginity.

#1) And finally, a classic way of signalling to the guests to get out.

Father B: Err, so, after this going who's house? Hahah (can you fuck off like, now?).

Aaaaah yes, we get you, for we too can read between the lines. The children won't mind leaving though. Just make sure you fill up their pockets.

So, well, basically that's it. This entry was brought to you by Boredom Inc. Don't blame me. I have nothing else to do at home.

2005-10-08T21:37:00.000+08:00

Okay, I confess that I'm as bored as someone who's up late at night watching Channel 5 (boring). So what do I do at home? I prepare myself for Marketing. I come up with two advertisements - one for Sony Erricson, and another for Kodak. I send the two ads to the two respective companies, and a few days later, they decide to hire me as their advertisement designer. Yeah, I wish.

One day, I shall work in a huge company; so huge, that it can't even fit into my pants. Let's see, maybe I should venture into the advertising industry, or public relations (whatever that is, it just sounds nice). I like advertising because it's so full of bullshit and lies, just like me, and probably other men (kidding). You want to sell toilet bowls? Fine, advertise it. You want to sell underwear? Fine, advertise it. Market the underwear as this "babe-magnet". Whatever. I'm talking crap. If you watch this Mercedes Benz commercial on TV, you will realise that there is this part where they make their car seem as if it lessens the driver's chances of getting involved in an accident. I recently just noticed some words typed in very small fonts at the bottom of the screen when that commercial is being aired. It goes: "Depending on how the driver drives the car. Results may vary, and accidents can occur anytime, anywhere." How nice. Like I said, lies and bullshit.

If you realise too on cartons of supposedly low-fat milk, there are these faintly and minutely written words at the bottom which goes: "LOW-FAT milk? Yeah right." Even on boxes of condoms, they promise you protection. The thing is, they don't say what kind of protection. It could be from mosquitos, or water, or from, I don't know, anything!

That's why it's great to be in advertising. Not only are you paid to lie and bullshit, you also, well err, basically yeah that's it. You are paid to lie and bullshit. I'm full of crap. Flexing my bullshitting muscles for next semester.

2005-10-06T19:23:00.000+08:00

Okay I found my new favourite band: Radiohead. I don't know why, but their music seems to be in line with my visions and perspectives on life. It's deep, and it gives you an insight on what the singer feels at that point of time. Yeah right. Cut all this analysis crap. I just like them because their music is, well, should we say nice? Simple isn't it?

The genre of music I listen to have really changed over the years. From N' Sync back in lower secondary school, to Metallica and Iron Maiden in the upper secondary stages. Then I start to sway towards pop rock and punkish songs like Simple Plan and stuff. Now, I think I've finally found the right sound: Alternative. Wait, come to think about it, I think I'm more of an all-rounder nowadays. It's a case of "if it's nice, I like it". James Blunt is good. So is Sum 41. Dishwalla is thanks to Mr Pat Wong, who introduced the song to us in lecture. And Goo Goo Dolls and Lifehouse starts creeping into my favourites list.

Oh and yes, I can already imagine myself indulging in strawberry or chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Eat your words Jaz, while I eat my ice cream. Okay lame. Told you you would pass. Shu I think you made it. Blast me if I'm wrong.

2005-10-03T22:44:00.000+08:00

Woohoo. Why woohoo? Because I didn't fail anything. Anyway I made a bet with Jaz that if she passes her Writcom, she'd have to buy me ice cream. If she fails it, however, I have to do the honour of doing so. I'm going to get free ice cream soon.

I just watched a show entitled "Creep". Basically it's about this bloody lunatic who lives in the subways of England, with his daily activity being feeding the rats. Let me tell you, this show is fucking gruesome and sick. Imagine this girls: you lie down on a hospital bed with your legs spread out wide (as if you're going to give birth), and the surgeon rambs a sword/blade/axe right into your vagina. I'm not sick. The show is. Fuck I really pitied that woman.

Sometimes I wonder why some people are just so saddistic and senseless and basically STUPID. What's wrong with them? It's as if they were born with "brains not included/ brains sold separately". They happily take anything from knives to forks to swords to guns and basically kill people senseless, without a hint of regret on their faces. Maybe it's just in the movies, but could it be that these people do exist? Perhaps they do. I want to know what the hell they are thinking, and how they perceive the things they see. It's as if everything is a threat to them. Why can't they be normal. Like me or you or Ali or Chang or Tan or Kumar or anybody. Fuck them. Make the world a better place for goodness sake.

Chalet Day #2

2005-09-28T15:58:00.000+08:00

Chalet Day #2

Ah hah. Ah hah hah hah hah. So I heard about the incidents which happened while I was busy having a party of my own under my blanket and on my bed. Let's see. I just have to start with the Drew "molesting" story. Apparently somebody inappropriately nibbled a couple of the girls' ears. I shall not go into detail. It's too explicit. Kidding. Oh and so it seems that there was a puking festival after all the dancing and whatever. I can't believe I actually went into the toilet where all the "action" had happened.

Anyway, after sending Anna to the taxi stand, Cat and I went for some pool action. The only thing I will say is that it was a one-sided session. A while later, Drew, Shu, Sam, Aud, Cat, and I went for yet more pool action. Again, one-sided. Boring. Kidding. You control your own destiny.

The worst part of the day was losing three consecutive matches to Zhar at Winning Eleven. Embarassing. Losing is not in my blood. Kidding.

Towards the night, Drew, Zhar, and I simply "rilek one corner" and listened to some LISTEN-ABLE music. Relax, chill, trying to decipher the meaning of the lyrics. And then we started playing cards (made my Heart Attack debut). That was insane. I seriously had a heart attack trying to anticipate and avoid the whacking hands.

Cool day. No wild stuffs. Just pure chill.

2005-09-27T15:48:00.000+08:00

Chalet day #1:

The most important thing I learned at the chalet was this: chicken satay tastes better than mutton. I don't know where Samantha bought those damn fucking mouth-watering satays, but they sure taste good. Damn good. I never liked eating satays, but for those particular ones, I had to make exceptions.

I also learned how to barbeque - the proper way, perhaps? Zhar you should go to some barbequeing school or something.

Okay, so as the sun set, and as darkness engulfed the light (okay so you get it), a couple of things were rather hilarious, yet at the same time worrying. I was in my own world playing the beloved Winning Eleven, when out of the blue, 4 girls - Shu, Jaz, Sam, and Anna - started laughing for no apparent reason. I didn't know what they had put their nose to, but it sure made them high, or mad, or high? Was that thing poisonous or brain-damaging? I hope it's not. It was funny though seeing them in that state.

Andrew went: "You got your wish dude." You disappoint me man. I expected you to be much more entertaining in a drunk state. Kidding.

The best part about chalets are always the harmless conversations you have. Chatted with Cat and Zhar, brought up a few laughters. How do you make a mat confused? Tell him to rilek one corner in a circular room. Good one Cat.

So hey, day 1 was quite cool. Day 2 will start when the sun rises. A new day awaits.

2005-09-25T20:16:00.000+08:00

Alright! I can't describe the euphoria of getting an A+, especially for something which I thought we did badly for. Checked my mail, and there was an e-mail from a man named Danny Boey. Although I must say it was the shortest e-mail I've ever received from anybody, it was still definitely one of the best. One letter was enough: A (with a plus).

How on earth did we manage to score for the presentation? I don't know. I remember Danny told us that the project would be assessed based on our presentation skills, teamwork, organization, and enthusiasm. Okay, so let me try to analyse our presentation that day. Presentation skills? Okay so it wasn't that bad. I had only a cameo appearence, presenting for only like a few seconds. I thought the others did well. Teamwork? Not that bad either. I thought we handled the Q & A section very well. Organization? Maybe not so. Gladys and I got mixed up on deciding who was to present what. Fortunately though we managed to disguise the confusion pretty well. Teamwork? Well, can't say we were bad at it. Enthusiasm? Okay so maybe we weren't that enthusiastic, but still, perhaps we were trying to take a professional approach. Yeah right. What do you know, perhaps it was an A presentation.

To be pessimistic, I could say it's only worth 20%. The results are still yet to be released. Stay tuned to find out the conclusion to this drama. 6 October. After 9 am. The truth is out there.

2005-09-21T23:12:00.000+08:00

Started working on Monday. First day, and 400 hungry guests come crashing in for dinner. Fuck all of you. Okay, so technically you all play a part in contributing towards my salary, but still, fuck you.

Anyway, work got me thinking: where am I heading towards in life? Because I see some people there that have been working at the same fucking place for 10 years, 15 years, 20 years. And the worst part is they have been earning like 1.2k or so. What the fuck. You work that long and you get only THAT much? Do I want to be like them? Because I realise they are being looked down by the "big shots" there. Worse, some of them are being ignored. That's an insult, but it's reality. I don't want to end up like that. Must have a goal. Must have a standard set. Must have a life. Must have a good life. When (if) I wake up at the age of 50 or so, I want to look back and laugh or smile - in sanity, not in INsanity.

2005-09-18T16:18:00.000+08:00

Full marks to the Nadals and the Federers and whoever else, because tennis is a fucking difficult sport to play. Me and the guys played at the TP tennis court on Friday night, and damn it's very embarassing to play on a court next to a group of people who actually know how to play it. Serving seems impossible, and hell I wonder how they put all those top spins and whatever spins on the ball so that it won't go flying off into the evening skies, and eventually into the drain. Nevertheless, I thought we had a great time.

Although I wished we could say the same for today's match at Punggol (which by the way is as deserted as Sahara). We lost 3-0, and it was bloody tiring for me. I really felt like walking off the pitch, because I had no whatsoever energy left. I was so tired that I wouldn't even have the stamina left to walk off the pitch. I can't recall the last time I felt this weak. The solution to this: exercise. The question is when.

Because I'm going to start work on Monday. Back to Stamford Cafe. I'm having nightmares again. I hate that place, but ironically, it gives me something I dearly love and need and want: money.

2005-09-15T18:46:00.000+08:00

And so off I went to meet Drew, Madeline and Shin Yi at Far East, and so what did we do there? For starters, we walked around. After that, we walked around. Following that, we walked around. So yeah, we basically walked around with no destination in mind. Drew told us that Audrey was working at Orange Julias. So off we went to "disturb" her, only to find some strangers there. He then said that Jazreen ad YC are working at Toys'R'Us at Paragon. So the four of us skipped our way there, only to find more strangers. So, we learned a lesson: always have a destination in mind.

Just got back from playing pool - yet again. So I'm thinking of starting work next week, so that I can gain weight - with money of course - and be able to pay for the chalet. Will be playing soccer this Saturday with Din and the rest of the guys, I think. Haven't played for quite a while. Okay, suddenly holidays doesn't seem all that bad. There's light at the end of the tunnel. Or am I speaking too soon?

2005-09-14T00:06:00.000+08:00

I realise I have been playing a lot of pool lately, perhaps too much. I can't help it. I'm addicted. Anyway, I haven't been to town for quite a while, so I'm going there with Andrew and Madeline. No idea what we're going to do there. Watch movie? Hang out? I've no idea why people love going there. Is it COOL? Nevertheless, I'm going anyway.

I really really really can't wait for the new semester. Looking forward to all the new modules, especially Location Video Production. I know it'll be hectic then, but I don't think I'll find the challenge all that bad - hopefully at least. Wonder how my results are going to turn out. Most importantly, I hope I don't fail any modules. I certainly don't want to repeat my triple Fs. I should be able to get a B for my Speech Com. I'm quite skeptical about my results for Writ Com and IAC though. Please, just don't fail.

Oh and today Zhar turns 22. Haha. Relax dude, you're still a teenager. I think.

Fuck.

2005-09-11T09:14:00.000+08:00

So much for my bloody predictions. "3-0" I go, but 1-1 it went. Fuck. Saw the VMAs yesterday, which kind of reminded me of the something something awards earlier this year or something. It was similar - in miami, had all the celebrities arriving in boats and ferries and ships. Green Day was impressive I thought. All the flames and the sparks complemented the music pretty well. But still, fuck. 1-1.

The higher you climb, the further you fall...

2005-09-09T23:47:00.000+08:00

Last year, the year before last year, and the year before last year's last year, Ferrari and Michael Schumacher dominated the Formula 1 scene as if the other teams were merely making up the numbers on the track. We saw them winning like 70 to 80% of the races, and they even managed to orchestrate a finish which saw Schumi and Barichello cross the finish line side by side. This year, however, they're being eclipsed by the Renaults and the Mclarens. They even struggle to finish in at least 8th position these days. A lot of people say that because of this, Formula 1 has become much more fun and exciting. What happened? What is my point?

My point is, Ferrari had got into a position whereby they were expecting to at least get a podium finish for every race. They had climbed themselves a mountain, and they were at the peak while everybody else was still struggling to get there. Now, they're falling down, and since they've climbed so high, they are falling so far, and people are loving this.

This is so typical of life: we love to witness victories and triumphs, but when the same person keeps winning, we try to pull them down, and we relish the moment when we see them fall in failure. We do not like to see dominance. Dominance insults everybody else, because it means that nobody else is good enough. Why can't we support people all the way? To me, dominance is one of the most magnificent thing. When I see Roger Federer winning matches so effortlessly, I simply savour those moments, because sooner or later, it will have to come to an end. I hope that when that day comes, people would feel and share the pain that is felt, because the dominants fall from such a height.

Appreciate success, whether it's yours or others'.

Credit where credit is due...

2005-09-08T19:29:00.000+08:00

A colleague of mine once told me how ridiculous it is to assume that a person's true colours have to be negative. He was right. Why is it that people have to believe that there is actually more to what they see? If somebody SEEMS kind, why can't they just BE kind? Why must we search for people's dark secrets just to satisfy and tell ourselves that, hey, I'm not the worst one here; he or she is. Just some thoughts...

Today is the 7th day of my holidays, and I can actually sum up what I've been doing in one word: soccer, MSN, sleep, TV, Lotsa TV. Ok, so maybe that's more than one word. But fuck it. Oh brain, please come up with an idea. Where are you when I need you the most? Been watching Desperate Housewives (piracy rules), and I'm nearing to the finale. Can't wait to find out the secrets...their dark secrets....Oh and yea, England England. What telah happened to you? I think Sven's days are numbered. 1-0 lost to Northern Ireland for goodness sake. Why is Beckham still the captain??? Why do I even care about England??? Brazil has already qualified! Woohoo! Now there's a true world cup contender. I missed the Blake-Agassi match! I want to kill myself. Switched on the TV and it was the already the fifth set. The commentator said that the match was by far the best in this year's US Open. Rub it in. Why is there no repeat telecast on Supersports??