Blogging for the sake of blogging
Hating Singapore since '04
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Welcome and warning Other than that, WELCOME TO MY PATHETIC LIFE.
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The one where you fall into the water.
Monday, February 8, 2010
So I switched from Visual Arts Higher to Biology Arts Higher. The bell ranged and it signified that Break was over. People began shuffling in little packs to their next class whilst engaging in simple chit-chat. If you stuck your ear out just right, you will hear someone moan over their next class as if it was a hellish death. They were probably exaggerating. TOK Monday Class was the next period. I climbed the stairs, my head scanning the room numbers. "Lab 6... Lab 6...". I stopped in front of a little crowd. "Is this Biology HL?" I asked with glee. And they looked at me without knowing what to do with their face. "You're taking this class?" said Ivor. I nodded. Oh crap. It's Ms Carter's class. The Three Rules to Obey in Ms Carter's Biology 1) Always speak loudly, clearly and enthusiastically. Ms Carter is too awesome/cool/brilliant/incredible for your muttered-breath half-hearted cough you lazy mute bastard. 2) Always answer her questions. Even if they are rhetorical. Because an answer from you is the submission of your soul to her vast collection. Now wiggle your finger madly in the air like an idiot you bio-bitch slave. 3) Don't fall into the water. Whatever you do... DON'T FALL INTO THE WATER!!!! ------------------------------------ @ Wanni, nope no Peihwa people there.
The one with the House
Monday, February 1, 2010
I started school today. Finally. Been waiting for school to start for so long now. The few days before school, I was basically watching The Simpsons episodes online while doodling with Paint software.  Look mommy, I made a house. I love my new school. The teachers are great with their funny accents, the Glass Hall has a strangely attractive smell of over-bleaching and everyone wears a tie on Monday. Sighs deeply I do have a problem. I am like the last student to enter the school and most of students are actually the same kids from the year before (they moved from grade 10 to 11) So I am literally the new kid. Its kinda hard to make conversation with people because everyone is already rather knitted together. Had to eat lunch alone today because the people I talked to in the morning were no-where to be seen and I didn't recongise anyone else. Perhaps the friendship making will improve with the weeks to come. Yay Saint Joseph...
THE ONE WITH THE CAPS!!!!!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
I GOT INTO SAINT JOSEPH'S INSTITUTION INTERNATIONAL!!!! I GOT IN!!!! WOOHOO!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! CELE-BRATE GOOD TIMES COME ON!!! Dun-dun-da-da-da dun-da-da! CELE-BRATE GOOD TIMES COME ON!!!!
The one with the Bitch Cells
Friday, January 15, 2010
My mother is a two-bit whore who has a brain space that couldn't even fit a thimble. She can rot in hell for all I care, that rotten fucker whose cold cold heart dropped out and died because all the bitch cells in her killed it. Screw her.
The one with the Expensive Stripper
Monday, January 11, 2010
God isn't an evil being. He just really likes to tease like an expensive stripper (God has a very good sense of humour. Hannah Montana is proof of the Divine's huge laughing bone) I got 15 for my freaking O levels. I wanted 14 cause that is the score I needed to get into the School of my Choice SJII. I got 15 instead. Not high enough to rule out the school as a possibility. There is always a good appeal, my excellent interview skills, 4 distinctions, my strong CCA score of A2 and the vast unlimited dept of the parents cheque book. Not low enough however, to reach the school's asking requirement of 14. There is always the bad luck I possess as a cross between a black cat with the number 13 sprayed painted on it and the devil walking underneath a row of ladders while smashing mirrors. Meanwhile, I'm a fricking genius when it comes to being a poly Student. By my score alone (L1R4 10), I can enter like 95% of all the poly courses. However, I'm a complete dweeb as a JC student because the only JC's that are around my score (15 minus 2=13) is Jurong and Tampiness and they are like a fricken across the damn nation. I would gloat that my grade is a point higher than my Sister's but that lucky bastard got into the Nearby Meridian when it was 16 points and now its a freakin 10 points. My luck is really bad... God... Stop teasing me please...
The one where you deal with it.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Yeah... I changed it. Deal with it if you don't like it. ----------------------------------- I don't like vodka now. Ted Moseby was right, New Year's Eve is a horrible holiday to celebrate. All you do is make a complete mess of yourselves and with the people you love. I have no idea how Russia survives as a nation. Drunken Russians. They are such Yeah its a short post. Deal with it. ---------------------------------- Dear National Hero of the Phillipines, thank you for the outer epidermal layer used for decorative purposes for my cyber-space digital public diary. From your grateful District in Beijing.
The one with the asylum colony
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Mrs Thatcher even bizarrely proposed to the Australian prime minister, Malcolm Fraser, that they jointly buy an Indonesian island to resettle all the boat people. This forerunner of Oliver Letwin's 2003 idea for an "asylum island" to take all of Britain's asylum seekers was only blocked when Singapore complained that it would set up a rival entrepreneurial city. http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2009/dec/30/30-year-rule-thatcher-papers-released It is somewhere in the middle section. While Mrs Thatcher's racism is definitely something to be concerned about, Singapore's blocking of such an act needs greater concern, not because Singapore disallowed an asylum colony, but because Singapore disallowed an asylum colony on the grounds that it would be bad for business rather than bad for the dignity of human rights and the defense of anti-racism. We are such a racially harmonious nation. This article seems to put more weight in the theory that our precious PAP governments policy in governing the people is somewhat tied to their empty wallets. Sure, they want to make us a prosperous nation. But they won't say no to a quick buck while at it... Yay Singapore... --------------------------- On another note. All Singaporeans, please. For God's sake. If you can't pronounce English properly at least try, try very hard, to pronounce the name of the country correctly. It is pronounce Sing-Ge-Pour. Not Sing-GA-por or Sing-Ge-pot or any combination of the two.
The one with the German Pagans
Friday, December 25, 2009
It is Christmas Day. Some few centuries ago, the Roman Catholic Church in Rome designated December 25th as Christmas Day, too honour the Birth of Jesus Christ and to commemorate his achievements and memory as part of a joyous holiday. The last week of December, before the intervention of the Catholic Church was a celebration of the rebirth of the Sun after a long winter and the welcoming of Spring again into the lives of the Pagan People. The Church designated the Birth of Christ on the 25th, in order to lure more converts into the Christian faith. And "Christmas" was given a new meaning. It seems that human kind is once more creating a new meaning for Christmas. The last week of December is always full of festive spirit. The year begins to end and a new is about to spark, bringing hope and joy of another or better good year. Others celebrate the end of the Winter Season and the beginning of Spring. Many also choose to celebrate a time of goodwill and joy, of happiness and togetherness. It seems that people will always find a reason to celebrate Christmas. Sometimes, I feel like I am still trying to find this very reason. I want to celebrate Christmas. I want to sing songs of festive cheer and praise of Jesus Christ. He was a great person and I want to honour him. I want to spend time with loved ones, friends and family, it is a time to celebrate our affections for each other. I want to feel as if I am not just letting the clock slip by. But I am at home, doing that. My family has plans, my friends haves plans, I have to stay at home and care for my Grandma who while not her fault, is hard to connect with. Maybe just once, I can sit in a nice warm chair next to a decorated tree, retelling the story of Christ, enjoying a good cup of hot chocolate with friends, spending time with family.
The one with the Giant Prick
Thursday, December 17, 2009
So sometimes I am a giant prick when it comes to arguments. If I think I am right in something and I cannot be convinced otherwise, I just continue to put up my strong front no matter what. No matter who. Whether or not I am actually right on the matter. It is something that I should let down a little. Being stubborn in a view point, or at least harsh and unbreakable can push people I love away from me. I don't want that to happen to my friends or family or anyone close to me. For the last four years, the people who are close to me and I have seriously offended by being annoyingly stubborn. Forgive me. But for the people I purposely offended and don't care about, yeah. Go away. =p Being mean is sometimes fun. --------------------------- God, love, family, friends, care, tolerance, acceptance, knowledge, discovery, goodwill, happiness, laughter, joy, birth and reconciliation. I'm going to make these words more important to me.
The one with the fat kid in gym class
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I recently came back from a trip from Korea and realised how easy it is to spot a Singaporean overseas without listening to them speak. Many Singaporeans are notoriously bad when it comes to dressing and fashion and while in their "native" homeland, they walk with ease and camouflage in the streets and their government housing apartments, in foreign countries they stick out like a fat kid in gym class. Depending on the foreign nation, they are subjected to either subtle or head-strong ridicule by foreigners, with head-turning and finger pointing to match. In the Summer, the chance of this happening is significantly lower as now every one has access to a pair of Jeans and a shirt from The GAP making them generically dull but also unnoticeable. In the winter however, they resemble retards stumbling into a Police Station with a huge flashing badge that reads "Hi! I speak as well as I dress!" and with the Singaporean accent and English, is not at all a compliment. So this post is dedicated to those stumbling retards. HOW TO SPOT A SINGAPOREAN IN A WINTER COUNTRY JUST BY LOOKING AT THEM 1) MOUNTAIN CLIMBING/ANTARCTICA-VISITING/DOG-SLEIGH DRIVING GEAR Singaporeans are a very stupid lot. And because of that, they are unable to grasp unfamiliar concepts well and tend to overreact and over-do things in response to them. Winter is cold. The temperature, depending on the place and time drops to temperatures that Singaporeans have never experienced or are not used to. And since their experience with cold limits to movie cinemas where their 12 dollar made-in China jacket they bought from the phucking (said like Phactors) Bugis Village failed to keep them warm, they imagine winter to be an insufferable freeze. Hence, Singaporeans usually overdress winter wear and instead of buying tasteful coats and jackets for Winters in generally urban areas, buy windbreakers and polar equipment more suited for trekking up Mount Everest or shooting polar bears. Idiots.  2) SKI GLOVES Leather or woolen gloves are always out of the question. They have to be these thick plasticy ski gloves that not only make their hand look fat, they also inhibit their dexterity and make even them unable to bend their fingers no more than a fat fist. It comes to my attention that Ski Gloves are usually used for the activity of Skiing. So why do Singaporeans buy these gloves for the winter when most of the tour guided tourism let them only wander in usually city areas where there is little snow? And they are always in some hideous colour.  3) UGLY UGLY UGLY If New Yorkers, Parisians and Milanese dress for their best. Singaporeans pick out the ugliest winter wear from their mad scramble at warehouse sales. Even if they buy their frumpy windbreaker clothing, their thick ski gloves, their unnecessary wool hats, they tend to choose the ugliest among available options with the lowest of possible qualities. The jackets and windbreakers they choose always make Singaporeans look padded and fat (or fatter). The colours they choose are always striking and blindingly bright. Their ski gloves are always of a funky colour.(See rainbowed gloves above) Most people overseas wear darker colours when they go out. Shades of black, dark blue and grey, occasional white coat of varying cream colours, sometimes topped off with a complimenting scarf or decorative hat. Seldom do people wear distinct colours and for good reason. BECAUSE THEY ARE UGLY UGLY UGLY.  4) UGLY THERE, UGLY HERE What made you look "auntie" back in Singapore still makes you look "auntie" four thousand Kilometres away. Take you poorly done dyeing that doesn't stop your aging process and shove it "auntie"  In conclusion to this long post (you freakin happy now Ivan?) Singaporeans are easy to spot overseas during winter because they dress bad and suck like hell. It makes me sad to be acknowledge as the "same" community with them. It gets even worst when they open their mouths. The brats and the forty-ish women sound the worst. I was so embarrassed to be near those 30 Singaporeans on the tour of the Korean Palace. (If any of you nutty Singaporean Nationalist get angry over this and ask me to "get the hell out" I give you this. http://img682.imageshack.us/img682/2462/foryousingaporeannuts.jpg
The one with Pure Win
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Pure win.
The one with my aching feet
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I went to shop stuff for prom today with James and Ghee Wei. And my god it hurts. Perhaps it was because we exercised in the morning and really stretched out our muscles, James ran 4 kilometres and the round trip in Orchard from Ion to Paragon was not good of any of us. Several times James buckled under the pain. Come to feel of it, my feet still bloody hurts. We started shopping at 2.14pm until 3.56pm where we had a half hour coffee break before going for a second round that ended at 6.09pm for dinner at The Soup Spoon (That place is awesome square). At 6.50 we went to look for my shoes and stopped, successfully at 7.23pm. Then we went home. Ow. There is a difference in the way men and women shop, according to my mother. When men shop, it is a goal, mission, quest, which to get in, find a shirt/pants/shoes/your mom that fit the conditions of price and appeal. So men just keep walking until their legs start to give way before stopping. Breaks are refueling stations to them, we stopped to rest. When women shop, it is a social activity. It is an excuse for them to gabble about American Idol and sexy vampires. So they talk as they shop and when their heels start to just pang very slightly. They stop for a two hour coffee break. They use that to converse, to be sociable, to talk even more. Rinse and repeat. As a result, men tire out their legs more, because their main goal is to buy stuff, not as a reason to chat. Breaks are only when they are tired. That is why at the end of the day, men get more exhausted shopping than women. It also sucks that there are more stores that cater to women's fancy. Shopping is a women's game. Men should not try to play it. It hurts.
The one with Starbucks
Sunday, September 27, 2009
There are 16,120 Starbucks Outlets in 49 different country, including around 11,000 in the United States, followed by nearly 1,000 in Canada and more than 800 in Japan. So that means that there are: 27,728 Americans per Starbucks 34,000 Canadians per Starbucks 157,500 Japanese per Starbucks In Singapore, there are 64 Starbucks outlets. Therefore, there are 70,000 Singaporeans per Starbucks. Globalisation is freaky...
The one with the Drunk Girl
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
 Dear Sister. I found this in Mama's computer. =) I removed the red eye.
The one with xkcd comic
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
 Its been a long time...
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I lit two candles last night. For my Grandfather and my ancestors to see as guiding light. Last night was the last day of the hungry ghost festival and tradition calls it the day that the Ghostly realm visits the mortal world. Food is left out to appease spirits and keep them from troubling the living. I have stopped believing in these superstitions but I still take it in heart to honour the 1000 year culture of being 汉人. It was very simple, just two candles. They were there to remind my Grandfathers that I still care for them. I can almost see my two grandfathers in heaven looking down to see that they are still remembered. Some people tell me that because My Grandfather was a Christian, it made these Chinese Culture void on him. I refuse to believe that. Instead, I simplified the original ancestor Worship to Ancestor remembrance and prayer for God to keep my Grandfather and Ancestors content. The candle is a symbol of honour and remembrance, as well as a link between God, heaven, Spirits and this world. Dear Grandfathers, dear Ancestors of the Hong and Lim Families. I have not forgotten.
The one where I miss Shadow, my Sister playing the piano and my home
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I miss my dog. Shadow. My father accidentally let him loose two months ago and we have been without him ever since. Sometimes humans behave like animals, but my Shadow will always be a wet nose higher than them. I miss rubbing my feet on his fur when it is cold. I miss his presence as another living being about the house. I always like how I would be busy using the computer when he will just walk past and lie down right next to me to keep me company. We would never talk but we got along just fine. I miss having to clean his eyes when eye gunk built up. I would lock his head in my arm and pry his head to my thigh as I forcibly wipe the gunk off with a tissue. Whenever I loosen my grip, he would fuss but when I tighten it, he wouldn't flinch. But most of all, I miss being able to tell him everything and anything and all he would do is just flick his tail at me. For a dog, he gave such good hugs. Granted, he had a fur coat but they felt warm anyway. I miss hearing my Sister play the piano. I don't really miss my sister(sorry sis)or someone playing the piano, but my Sister playing the Piano. There was always a serene feel when she played the same sour tunes repeatedly. They were familiar... comforting... relaxing. It was a sound that was part of a full home which by the year seemed to be getting emptier. But until just two years ago, there was always my sister's music in the house. Every Saturday Morning, right before her coffee and her newspaper, I would wake up hearing it through my floor. I miss the enjoyment of hearing her play. And I would like to think that she misses me listen to her play. It's not me she misses, it's not someone else listening to it she misses, but it's me listening to her music. I miss my home. I was 6 years old. My sister 11 and my parents happy together. I miss stepping on my father's back to massage it. Or playing chess with my sister. Or watching Chinese 7 o clock shows with my mother as I played with her hair. Or my snoopy stuff toy which I carried around and loved dearly. I miss my kingdom of stuff toys that reigned over my house, the old Lion King, the Tigger princes and their beanbag princess. General Duck and Balto, James the Dalmatian(It's in my living room), Miss Teck-teck-teck(it was a bunny stuff toy that my sister won at escape and made a teck teck teck sound when we pounded her plastic nose against glass), Scrooge Mcbear, Kangaroo... So on. That was a home. And I miss my home. There is one more thing I miss. I miss dancing with bears and flying with painted wings.
The one with the Gentle wind
Friday, September 11, 2009
There was a very gentle wind today. Most people who come to my house use the road on the West side of my house. They walk pass two condos, a row of cute shop-houses, a Buddhist Union building and a little slope. It is the faster route from the MRT to my House. People don't know that there is a Eastern Road I could take too, to get home. On days like these, where a gentle wind blows, it is worth to walk that extra few metres. This road, lies on a steep hill. On one side, a row of little houses and the towering top of a temple. On the other, these huge mighty trees that line the road like guards, their massive branches swaying in the wind. The wind isn't strong, but gentle and soft, like a memory of some sort. And as it shakes and rustles the leaves creating a sizzling sound it makes me reminisce. It reminds me of emotions I let myself have. Of desires I have to force down. Of dreams that seem so far away. Today, I was walking home, when the gentle wind blew down the hill. And I stopped and looked up. The day was dark with thunder clouds but some weak light struggled through the leaves. The orchestra of branches sway, nature's tune is played. And you feel. You feel happy. You feel sad. You feel surrounded by spirits. You feel alone. You feel hope. You feel as if God sent this wind. To talk to you. To make you feel things you have gained and lost. And to make you want it back so much more. You crush all other feelings and replace them with hope. Gentle hope. Memories are the past. For the future, you can only hope. That God can guide you or inspire you to follow this path, so that when the ultimatum comes that day, you can embrace the glory that is fufilled hope or you can remain strong when the crushing blow is felt. That was this gentle wind today. It blew to me so much thought.
The one where I hate it all.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
So... Nothing has changed has it. Its all the same. And I had such beautiful hope. I thought it can't be a repeat of what happen the previous time. He is more committed now, he'll be better, smarter, more willing, more sensitive. Perhaps Im being so greedy. Im asking so much and have done nothing. But he said it hurts him. Is he assuming that I'm immune to pain? What just really gets me is that, he says that all those things. All those things that made me so hopeful and happy. He made me dream. But his actions speak otherwise. He said it would be different. So why do I feel so much more alone.
The one with Youtube Videos
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Going back to the corner where I first saw you, Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I'm not gonna move, Got some words on cardboard got your picture in my hand, Saying if you see this girl can you tell her where I am, Some try to hand me money they don't understand, I'm not...broke I'm just a broken hearted man, I know it makes no sense, but what else can I do, How can I move on when I'm still in love with you... Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be, Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet, And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street. So I'm not moving... I'm not moving. Policeman says son you can't stay here, I said there's someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year, Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows, If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go. Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be, Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet, And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street. So I'm not moving... I'm not moving. I'm not moving... I'm not moving. People talk about the guy Who's waiting on a girl... Oohoohwoo There are no holes in his shoes But a big hole in his world... Hmmmm and maybe I'll get famous as man who can't be moved, And maybe you won't mean to but you'll see me on the news, And you'll come running to the corner... Cos you'll know it's just for you I'm the man who can't be moved I'm the man who can't be moved... Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be, Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet, And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street. [Repeat in background] So I'm not moving... I'm not moving. I'm not moving... I'm not moving. Going back to the corner where I first saw you, Gonna camp in my sleeping bag not I'm not gonna move. -------------------------------------------------------------- "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.... I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now, I see. T'was Grace that taught... my heart to fear. And Grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that Grace appear... the hour I first believed. Through many dangers, toils and snares... we have already come. T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far... and Grace will lead us home. The Lord has promised good to me... His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be... as long as life endures. When we've been here ten thousand years... bright shining as the sun. We've no less days to sing God's praise... then when we've first begun. "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me.... I once was lost but now am found, Was blind, but now, I see.
The one where I stop blogging.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I decided that I will stop blogging for now. I do not think I am in the correct mental state to continue posting. I will start blogging again when I can. I received your letter, I'll write back soon. Yours truly, Chong Wen
The one where I sound desperate
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
I wonder when I'll finally be able to walk home alone without having to notice the emptiness of my heart. School restarted and has been able to carry me throughout the day in a positive mood. I'm not anymore different than I was before, still talking and joking and mentally tormenting classmates. But the moment we say our dry goodbyes of "dudehood" and part ways, there is no longer anyone left to put a show on for. In the past, some 2 years ago, if I walked home alone, I bear no smile. Not because I was upset or depressed, but because there was nothing to smile for. Trivial thoughts just flew through my mind, circling a few rounds before exiting via my ear. And then came a small period of sunshine. Life was worth living, worth waking up for and not because the Law told you too, but because you want to. Lonely walks home are joyful, a small hint of a smile was stuck on face as I skipped home humming tunes of The Corrs and Michael Buble and others. Now. Now I go home quietly. No skip in my step, no happy tune. It was just as dull as I used to be. But there is a difference. Trivial thoughts no longer fly through my head. Sad thoughts do. I sound whiny and pathetic, ranting about how unfortunate I am when I know somewhere in Africa a child is starving or somewhere in Malaysia, a Malaysian has an epiphany that he is indeed a Malaysian and starts crying. But I am sad. It has been 15 days since any known contact from you. Today you posted a song. I know we have this agreement here, but all I wanted to do all day is to reach for the phone and dial your number and ask you: "How was your day?". But I resist with much difficulty. I am trying my very best to give you want you want, space, time, thought. But I really really wish, want, hope, pray, to the bottom of my heart, to every fiber of my body, to every ounce of spirituality I possess, that you would just send me some sort of contact. A smiley message, a promised letter, a simple teeny mention on post, logging on MSN and not putting your status as "Appear Offline", even a poke on facebook. I sound desperate. I must be. I want to use my facebook account. I miss you.
That one
Monday, June 15, 2009
It takes 5 days for a letter to reach you. It takes 15 mins for me to personally hand it to you instead. Remaining connections are dulled, diluted, nulified. They exist as a single thin thread, invisible in the light, easily broken and thrown away. I feel nothing.
For you once more.
Friday, June 12, 2009
In the wee hours of the night, I had just lost the one thing in this world that made me happy. The one thing that made me smile in the morning and go to sleep with a happy heart. I have lost the only thing I can truly care for, the only thing that has made me less selfish as a person. In my last actions, my last actions of love, devotion and care, I grant the request made. Ill let go. Even if it means I end up in a worst world. Goodbye. So long. Take Care.
For you
Thursday, June 11, 2009
1. What is the relationship of you with him/her? As of now, I don't know 2. Your 5 impressions towards him/her? a) Honest b) Thoughtful c) Cautious d) Diligent e) Beautiful 3. The most memorable thing he/she has done for you? - Celebrate my Birthday, be there 4. The most memorable thing he/she has said to you? -"You're Beautiful" 5. If he/she becomes your lover, you will.. There are no proper words to express my feelings. 6. If he/she becomes your enemy, you will.. Blame myself. 7. If he/she becomes your lover, he/she has to improve on.. Loving me. 8. If he/she becomes your enemy, the reason is.. Because of me. 9. The most desirable thing to do for him/her is? Give him time and understanding. 10. The overall impression of him/her is.. In very many ways, amazing. 10 months ago...
The one with cutest picture you will ever see
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Things base and vile, folding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity: Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind  Understand?
The one with the Picture of Selma Hayek
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Happy 16th Birthday James! You can hit this now!  Went to the class outing. Was much fun. I went swimming in the Sea with Ivan, Hui Xiang, Stacie, Chery, Huiyu, Denton, Ghee Wei. I was carrying Stacie on my back when I told her I was going to grab onto my pants so I can stop her from falling off me. She misheard me and grabbed my pants. She had to get off me so she could laugh her system normal after I told her what I actually said. 5 Years ago, when I was in Pri 6, I learned to roller skate in school. That was my first and only time rollerblading. Today when I put on skates, I froze on the spot. I could only remember how to balance. I changed for a bike later. I cycled from one end of East Coast to the other, roughly 6.5km (inclusive of Pier Ghee Wei!) and on the way back, Ghee Wei in Skates was struggling to stay up...poor him. Today, I had no urge to punch him. I think its the school uniforms that make me all weird.
The one with the missing Orange Tarmac from Changi
Monday, June 8, 2009
So, I was online just searching around the good ole web when I found this.  That is what Miss Singapore wore for the Miss Universe National Culture Costumes segment. What the hell is that? It looks like she went to Mediacorp and stole that costume from the set of the stupid Nonya show. To be honest, the dress is just plain, but what I really cannot stand is that she destroyed Singapore's diminishing bio-diversity by plucking sea coral, spray-painting it gold and then stuck it on her head? Are they trying to compensate hair? Or are they trying to hide those ears that sticks out like an exicted teenage boy? If you thought this was bad, see what they sent the next one in.  Attention, Attention, there is an orange tarmac missing from Changi Airport... Do Singapore tailors just suck at making dresses? Or does our "culture" just suck. Sigh, why doesn't Singapore have a cool culture like Hungary  Or Croatia...  Or Greece...  Heh heh... Or El Salvador, Don't you just love their Latino flavour?  Or something exotic like Lebanon's...  Why can't our culture be like Turkey's! I mean just look her. -Dress. Her dress. Look at her dress, isn't it so... cultural. 
The one with the 4 Cultures
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Knowing that many Singaporeans do not have much of an attention span to fully enjoy this, (Yes Ivan, Im talking about how dialogue in movies bore you), this is mainly for the very few, few, few, few, few, few people who I know will appreciate it (Yes Ben, Im talking about you) http://www.youtube.com/homeproject Even if you dont listen to it, the shots are amazing. There are four types of Singaporeans in Singapore. They have different customs, thinking, interest, well-being and lifestyles, from these four, they can be further sub-catergorised into many other groups. But let us stick with these four. No, they are not Indian, Malay, Chinese, Eurasian. They are groups that are slowly drawing lines across Singapore Society which over the cross of 50 years, will deepen. There are Sino-influenced people, people who take their ideas and life choices from mainly Asian sources, China, Japan, Taiwan, Korea. They are safe, cautious, who prefer not taking risk but follow the rules. To stay under the radar, to keep with what they know. They follow maintstream music from the top 100 Billboards of both C,J,K-pop as well as American Popstars. There are Euro-influenced people, people who take their ideas and life choices from mainly European or American sources. They are outgoing, outspoken, brash, loud and open, putting themselves in the front line and risk for the slim chance of a reward. They listen to music outside of mainstream along with the mainstream, Jazz, Classical, Indie, foriegn languages. There are the "Malay" Culture, the youths of some Malays who seek out to create a seperate, distinct and overall unconformist culture, to mark in retaliaion of the larger more domineering Chinese influences in Singapore. They are a compromise of both the Sino and Euro influenced people. They, on the surface behave like the Euros but in actual character, when faced with a challendge, lean to the Sino values. And lastly, There are the Old Culture, the culture of our parents and grandparents, of the old cultures that are in out blood but no longer in our hearts. The origins of this culture still strives in China, Malaysia and Indonesia as well as India, but die here in replacement with the three forementioned cultures. In time, there will only be three Culture. How do you know which culture you are in? Well the video link above, If you watched a significatn portion or the whole video, you are Euro-influenced. If not, Sino.
The one with Dr Laura
Sunday, May 31, 2009
I found this on the net. It was funny I loled. Dear Dr. Laura: Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them: When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them? I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her? I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense. Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are heathens. My friend says that you can buy a Muslim buy not a Jew. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Jews? I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself? A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here? Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die? I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves? My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14) I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging. Your devoted fan, Jim
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