2nd Last Night Out in Singapore

So here's Dan, Lena and Me. I've known Dan for a while now.. I think almost 4 years? He's crazy. Runs 60 miles a week, is in Cross Country and Track.. and goes to school at Macalester in bumf*cknowhere Minnesotta. (Kofi Anan went to that school.) Went to prom with him with Bre n Mar and had the best prom in my life. I apologise for him looking pissed off cos.... he's tired man.

Lena on the other hand, goes to school in Berlin. She used to go SAS too but forsomereason decided to go to school in Germany, where her mom's from. Anyway what's really weird is I met her EXACTLY ONE YEAR AGO.... right across the street at Muddy Murphy's. If I can find the picture I'll put it up. (We were eating at Modesto's tonight.)

I don't think I'm coming back for summer.. Hmm.. so maybe I'll take the train around or some shit. Dan says it won't happen. Haha... I don't know. We'll see.

Anyways look what Manchi got me for Xmas. I actually got it on Xmas day itself but never really took a pic of it until I was packing today. Cute eh? It's a little embroidered pic on a face towel. "Something practical" =) I've never really had or used a face towel in my life, but hey why not for college?



Manchi:

It kicks in.

So I'm STILL packing my stuff up. Because I have so much stuff, the black duffel bag I used to lug my uniforms around in OCS isn't enough. Then out comes the ALICE Pack. Hmm... is it enough? I don't know. I'm thinking about getting another duffel bag but the airlines would probably fine me instead of charge me extra. "Where you goin' boy?? TO WAR??" Kenny says I should go to the air marshal and say "I have a bomb!! rigged to explode and litter the plane with clothes!! Muahahaha!!" But since I'm going to the States... that's not a very good idea. I don't wanna get shot at and arrested without having a reason that would require that course of action.



Speaking of Alice Pack. I realized that I am utilising my army stuff a LOT. This is WRONG. I say again, WRONG. Because you go to work every day wearing the same thing (and I mean, the SAME article of clothing) you forget how to mix and match. Kenny and I have determined that the SAF No.4 is the most versatile piece of clothing you could ever buy. (Babs this will thrill you.) The No.4 can be worn with boots, sandals, slippers, or track shoes. Depending on the activity. And, you can wear it long sleeved (for sleeping in bed, or rolling in the mud), or short sleeved (for occassions like ceremonies and lunch). You can wear it with a choice of 4 headwear accessories: namely your Helmet, your Beret, your Jockey Cap, or your Jungle Cap. Or you can just wear it without the headwear. I mean, the possibilities are ENDLESS!!! You could get little badges and tabs to further accessorize.



So you see, I am still very reliant on military equipment. The Silva Compass is to find my way around my room and my desk. Therestofthestuffisjustnonsenseandiwantedtowriteinpinkbecauseiamgay.

Before decided to write about all this army stuff, I was surfing on friendster and came across WeiHan's page. He had this picture here. (weihanimsosorryidonthaveyourpermissionbutidontcarehonestly.)


It brings back the memories of being in a nice-looking place but suffering like shiet. (Ok it's not as bad as SOF but it's bad enough alright?) And then that day comes when you're all happy, and you think it's the best thing that ever happened to you and you forget all that shit and punishement that happened over the past year.

Going to college isn't really like that. Well, I guess it was SUPPOSED to be like that. But. It isn't for me. Is it because of no expectations? So I retain this mood of... "ok yea whatever goes"... or is it because I'm getting pretty comfortable with living in Singapore? DID NS BRAINWASH ME??? MAybe it's cos I haven't been living at home for the past two years. So it's not THAT hard moving away from my room and all? Hmm... Although I'm quite disappointed that I can't say bye to everyone. Anyways it's not like I'm moving away for GOOD. There's still xmas and new year's. (To get away from the cold).

Hmm.. then lately I've been thinking about WHY I'm going to the States too. I mean, it's not like you get a better EDUCATION for sure. Sure, it's a good experience, meet new people, see more places. Things like that. Live outside alone for a while, see how miserable you really get when you're A L O N E. Hmm... I don't know. Any idea?

RAM Corp.

So Paula wants to buy a car. She says her dad'll get her a Infiniti G35 coupe. That's the same thing as a Skyline Coupe. Looks like a Fairlady-Z. But I'm thinking that an S2000, or a Z4 would be more ladylike. But she wants something that "shefeelssafeinandcanramthingsandestroythemifneedbe". So I suggested a BMW 645Ci, which costs USD 80 grand. Nope. Too expensive. Bently Continental GT, very rammable, but also very expensive. Ok no. We end up deciding on a BMW 325Ci. USD 33,000, highly rammable front grille, very chic for a woman.



But Paula hates bad traffic, and bad drivers. So we have to install machine guns for her. And of course, something to activate it. And instead of having Air/Oil temp gauges, and a shift lamp, we'll have:

1:13:08 AM Greg: pasting little postits on your speedo
1:13:19 AM Greg: 30 *arrow pointing* break leg-ram speed
1:13:26 AM Greg: 60 - killing-ram speed
1:13:31 AM Paula: HAHAHAHA
1:13:39 AM Paula: then theres the big red button
1:13:44 AM Paula: FORMACHINEGUNEMERGENCYONLY
1:13:48 AM Paula: IFRAMMINGDOESNOTKILL

Then for aesthetics, we'll have a nice sticker on the front saying:



It's only polite to warn people before you ram them.

In the midst of all this ramming fantasy, she wonders what would happen if she became a truck driver for one of those 12 wheelers. "PAULANORAMMINGOK" .... "ok..." "YOUHAVETOUNDERSTANDTHATYOUWILLNOTONLYKILLTHEGUYYOUARERAMMING"

Because this vehicle will be ramming stuff all over the place, it will be going really fast. Like KILLINGRAMMINGSPEED. So, I suggested we install a billboard, to act as a spoiler as well. But Paula says "DUDE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH DRAG THERE WILL BE?? IWILLNOTBEABLETORAMATFULLSPEED!" To remedy the situation, we have decided to ask Pininfarina to design our Rammobile. So it'll come out looking like an Enzo with machine guns and billboards on the sides. The scissor doors will have swords sticking out the sides at the request of the lady driver, so that she can SLICEPEOPLEIFTHEYDONOTDIEFROMRAMMING.

The car is then built. At her request (again) we have a smiley face on the front. So when you ram someone they can see a happy face coming, and then have it stamped on their face/whicheverbodypartthatgetsrammedfirst when they get rammed.



Scenario 1:
My that's a sweet car Paula.
Yes i know. I canramthingsanddestroythemifneedbe.
How fast can it go?
KILLINGRAMMINGSPEED.
Show me.
OK........ oh shit I have my ramming grille with spikes, my machine guns, my nuclear BOOST (because NOS just isnt' fast enough) and my billboard sporting my warning sign. BUT I FORGOT TO INSTALL THE ENGINE. okoneminuteiwillshowyoukillingrammingspeedonceicangetittomove.

Scenario 2:
......rammingthings...etc...
Shit the engine's not powerful enough to move my 50 ton car.

Also, Paula says that if you imagined how a vehicle like that would look withswordsstickingoutthedoorsandbazookasointhetopandnuclearreactorsallovertheplace, people would get hurt just by looking at it. How true. We then decide to mass produce this Rammobile. But once it started selling, we'd stay home. Because I would probably get rammed by one of my own products. Top Gear can test it, and the Stig can drive it around his little runway test track. Ramming the tires that get in his way and ramming the clock so it stops faster than any other car. The US Army will wanna buy it because of its destructive power, but Paula will say "f*ck you, you'll have to ram me for it." And thus start a ramming competition. Then Al Qaeda will wanna buy one, and so will North Korea and Russia, and 21st Century warfare will be determined by ramming. Man's self worth will be determined by how many people he's rammed. So the whole world will be rammingeverythingintheirpath, and since the more you ram, the faster you go. But I have this bad feeling that we'll forget to install brakes. AHHHHHIMRAMMINGEVERYTHINGINMYWAYHOWDOISTOP??????? I think the only way to stop is to get rammed by someone else. But that won't be too hard, since everyone else has a Rammobile.

For our marketing campaign, we came up with a couple of slogans.
For the Company, it will be "RAM CORP. The more you ram, the faster you go."
CLEO/Cosmo Magazines: "Don't you hate it when men honk? RAM."
Men's Health: "RAM. You know you want to."
Discovery Kids: "When Daddy's late to pick you up, tell him to RAM."
Seventeen/someteenguymag: "There's better things in life than sex. RAM."
The other markets haven't been thought up yet. Like war veterans, scientists, politicians.
The car will be called the VHF : Vehicle From Hell. I'm imagining an ad would go soemthing like "The more you ram, the faster you go. The '06 VHF" *only available in one nuclear powered forward gear with no brakes. steering optional.

And before I knew it, my brain came to a ramming halt and it was 3am.

A salute to the Spartan Slaves

Friends are the most awesome things. Whoever came up with the idea of "friendship" should be awarded a million virgins and a million kegs of his favorite beer and a million Cohiba cigars. If that person was a woman, then she should be awarded a million.... whateverkindofguysshelikes, a million bazillion dollars and ... yea whatever she likes man. I don't know what you women like. So hard to please. Guys just want booze, fun, cars, and things.

Looking back, going to "f*** place" wasn't so bad because of the people in it. Tham, Steph, Effin, Rod, Gayness, and the rest of those Foxtrot guys (Oh yea and the regulars like Chinese Feroz and Russel) make it a wonderful f*** place. There's a whole lotta suffering going on, but hey at least we're suffering together. And when you're done w/all the shit, you go out for a night of drinks and cigars and have a blast.

Last night reminded me how much I'm gonna miss these buncha mofos when I'm off to college. The mentally challenged games, the booze, the fags, Mandy Moore on MTV, indian food and Foxtrot buddies like Sashi and Kenny. YOU ROCK.

*This post is rather short due to my existing brain cells busy clearing up the debris and dead cells from last night's party. I apologise on their behalf.

Row-row-row your boat

Xmas Party at Steph's house. Awesome. Simply Awesome.

Here's an updated pic of Kenny:



Now that Xmas is over, it's time to let your liver, kidney and lungs recover for........ NEW YEAR'S EVE!!!!!!!

To go, or not to go?

So in case you people didn't know, it says CTH on my dogtags. What's that? CTH. Catholic. But I haven't gone to church in like... two years almost? Last week didn't count cos it was a weekday Mass. But why haven't I gone in a million years? Well, let's start off by establishing the .... thing (I can't say for sure it's a FACT) that if you don't go to church on Sunday, it's a sin.

So:
Don't go church on Sunday = sin.
Go on Sunday = no sin.

But:
Go on Sunday because you have to and not because you want to = Sin? No sin?

I'm not saying Church is bad, or it's got a stranglehold on its followers. I'm just saying that people go because they have to. It's like "Let's just sacrifice 1 hr of our time a week so we don't go to hell." And how bout the rest of the week? I doubt 1hr a week offsets all the other bad things these people do. I'm no angel, but hey, I don't go pretending I am. Yes I have road rage, but I also try my best to spread some love. (If you don't believe me, go ask my Thambi Conversion Course champion Sashi. You can find him on my friendster page.)

So, why do I not go? I do want to go. But it's just plain boring? I hate singing songs. The priest summarizes the Gospel. Which anyone can do. It does not relate to daily life AT ALL. Can't we just go anytime we want? Um... yea sure why not, but then nobody would go right? Everyone would be like "But I pray at home, so I don't need to go to church."

Tonight, my grandma came to me and said "Greg you should go to church." And i was like "OK FINE......" But you see, if I went, I'd be one of those people I just described above. If I didn't, then I'd be letting her down. GAHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT THE F*** DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As usual, I bailed on church. Ugh.

BTW I was watching K-Pax with my bro earlier on. If you haven't seen it you should. At the end of the movie, he goes "The universe collapses on itself, and then expands again, then collapses on itself, and then expands again. And when it expands again, everything will be as it is now. Every thing you do will be the same, every mistake you make, you will make again. So why not get it right this time round?"

I think karma is a funny thing. It tends to come round and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. So don't f*ck with people if you don't have to. I'm not saying to forgive people who've like stabbed you 50 times in the back if they're SERIOUS assholes. But yea, you know what I mean. And be nice. It's Xmas!! *cues "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow"*

My teacher Mr.Zitur on the plane to South Africa (Spring '03) looking like K-Pax (Kevin Spacey)

Adios. C'est 4am dans le matin.

Smile and nod like you know what's goin on

This was stolen off my OCS instructor's friendster pictures. His name is LTA (NS) Syed. When I first met him, I thought he was psycho. "Is that an excuse or a reason, cadet?" You could never out talk him. As a cadet, everything was an excuse. Honestly, right? I mean "I didn't have this done because I wa... " "YOU WERE WHAT?? WHAT?? SO EVERYBODY ELSE CAN BUT YOU CAN'T?? WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL?? THAT'S AN EXCUSE ISN'T IT??" Then you start fantasizing all the funny things that could happen.
1."Yes sir it's an excuse. What do u wanna do about it?"
2."DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO??" (This one's dangerous. Cos it would REALLY be so awesome to pull, but if you fantasize hard enough and lost grip of reality, you could actually say it out. So be careful.)
3. Drop 20 in triplequicktimegetupandthenbelike "Ok I think we should move on now."

I just wanted to put this up because it's thought provoking. One of those "it builds character" things.

FLAMBOYANT (often capitalized, just like NOW.)

Main Entry: 1flam·boy·ant
Pronunciation: -&nt
Function: adjective
Etymology: French, from present participle of flamboyer to flame, from Old French, from flambe
1 often capitalized : characterized by waving curves suggesting flames
2 : marked by or given to strikingly elaborate or colorful display or behavior


So, Gayboy comes online and he tells me that OC said when he's gone, SP Coy will be the most boring place on earth because he's "the 2nd most flamboyant person around after Greg." Haha. Right. This is nice, I'm not only "gregarious", I'm also "flamboyant." Hmm... Perhaps the road rage, late nights, heavy smoking and erratic antics in camp contributed to this. That's Gayboy in the picture below. Note how he has a hot fuschia shirt on. It excites me. (Sorry Babs. I have to be honest with my feelings.)


It is Xmas Eve. WHAT THE F*** AM I DOING AT HOME WRITING A BLOG????? By the way, my buddy Kenny (see Fig. 2 below) says that you should NEVER, I say again, NEVER, say "Ok I just blogged." Because it sounds like you just took a dump. Say it to yourself for a minute. "Ok I just blogged..... ahhhhhhh............" DOESN'T IT? Well I didn't think so. So you can not think so too. You could also put that in the "Hold up gimme 5 mins I'm blogging." situation. It's easier than saying "Hold up gimme 5 mins I am writing in my blog." Woo.. what a mouthful.

Fig. 2:

Kenny I apologise for having a 1 year old picture. It seems we have not taken a picture of late.

Oh, and ladies, Kenny is a very nice young man who is proud of his vocation as a Storemando Officer. If you are interested to find out what that is, do let me know. I will hook you up with this witty, illiterate, very caring eligible bachelor. He saved my life when I almost chopped my finger off in Brunei and for that I am forever indebted. Contact me soon! Limited vacancies available!

Merry Christmas Everybody. =)

Won't you take me, take me please, Wild Honey

My favorite song to drive to on the way to work. Wild Honey by U2. It's got this very... happy ring to it. Kinda free, "let's get outta here and go somewhere you can do whatever you want" kinda deal. Total opposite of work. WHY was I listening to it at 1am driving home from a night of drinking (again)? I don't know. Maybe because I'm feeling troubled of late. Thus the very forceful language and... interesting rants.

Hm. It's X'mas Eve. BE-EW-TEE-FUL. Don't you find it getting very... VERY unfestive every year? Is it an age thing? When you were a kid X'mas was one of the things you looked forward to because of the toys, and parties, and things. But now? It's just ANOTHER day you party hard with friends, get sloshed, then wake up the next morning to have a breakfast of eggs and bacon and black coffee to drown out the hangover. Maybe it's just me, eh? F***.

Ok anyways it's 2am. ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

I apologise for those seeking literary entertainment for this highly boring post.

I am a Slave. F*CK YOU Army.

*for this post I have decided not to edit the forceful language to better and clearly express my strong feelings towards the military.

(enter the neighbor who comes and passes Greg a brown envelope.)
(Greg takes envelope from friend, has small talk.)

*ding dong*. FINALLY. My Certificate of Service from the army is here. Blah blah blah.. Infantry Officer.. blah blah.
Courses attended: Chem Defence.
Medals, Clasps, Decorations, Distinctions Awarded: NIL
Quality/Productivity-related Activities: NIL

(exuent friend)
(Greg proceeds to go to his room and begins typing.)

We were warned, before the darkest ours of commissioning that we would be highly unappreciated, slaves to the units we were going to. Being a PC was lonely. So hey, maybe 2IC was worse. I'd be sitting in the corner, with a cigarette, counting the wrinkles on my right fourth finger, looking busy sms-ing on my phone but actually on MSN talking to Al in Boston. But it wasn't like that. The 20 hour days were spent opening and closing and coming in and out of the office door so much I think when they get a replacement they gotta get it "prison quality" certified. And you weren't counting wrinkles on your fingers or cleaning out the sock lint from the corners of your big toe. You had men, asking you for advice, sometimes related to whatever the f*ck you were doing in camp, sometimes not. Sometimes just a conversation about life plans, etc. You had to be responsible for their lives, happiness, welfare, anything and everything.

"Um... Sir... you've been chosen to be the Ensign for the unit." In case you didn't know, the Ensign is usually the youngest Junior Officer in the Battalion. He is chosen to carry the Battalion's flag, or Colors. (C O L O U R S. for you British ones. Yes, you, you know I'm talking about, the avid blog reader lady.) As much as I hate drills, I did it anyway. I mean, hey, you get to carry a $5000 flag and get yelled at my Warrant Officers. How much more fun can it get right?

Hmm... What else. I went to Brunei and went for my "Lose 10kgs in 10 days" diet. And went to Provost to learn how to fire a semi-automatic pistol and use handcuffs (well, HELLO...), and went for some other courses.


DO ALL THESE THINGS COUNT FOR "NIL"?????????????? F U C K I NG H E L L N O ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! The clerk who prepared this said "Oh, that's the best we can do. We're really busy." LOOK AROUND YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!!! ISN'T EVERY OTHER FUCKING PERSON IN THE WHOLE FUCKING CAMP BUSY TOO???? IF YOU CAN'T DO YOUR JOB WHY DON'T YOU GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY HIDE-AND-FUCK-YOURSELF!

(exuent Greg who goes off to have his dinner)

Brain.... P....a...i.....n.....

The boredom is simply overwhelming. Never try to study math and chem on a Friday morning. It just... doesn't work that way.
Hmm.. ya know.. This is weird. I once refused to try this blogging junx because I thought ... "why in the f*ckin world would you wanna type out your life on the internet?". And look at me now, I'm like posting something every 10 mins. NOW I know what the heck this is all about. An outlet for verbal diarrhea. Mental diarrhea perhaps? So, with the "spirit of the blogger" in me. I shall continue to entertain those who visit this page in search of Pulitzer Prize grade literature. Do feel free to post comments. It would be most delightful to see what other people think. There's always room for improvement.

How's this for starters:

Altruism. Does it exist? Doing something for nothing? (ARE YOU F*CKING OUT OF YOUR MIND? SUBJECTING YOURSELF TO SLAVERY??) Not exactly.

I for one believe it does. Imagine for a moment that you were walking along the street, and a child who was running trips and falls at your feet. Would it be instictive to pick the child up, or even make a dash to try and grab him/her before he/she hit the ground? If you answered yes, then there is altruism. Not perpetual, but hey, it exists right? If you answered no, may you dream of mr.satan (as mentioned below) and burn in hell for eternity. I understand that there could be legal complications if the child's parent is a total f***wit and decides to sue you on grounds that you hurt the child. But if that happens...... RUNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!

And, would you help your friend for nothing in return? I'm sure you would. RIGHT?

Come, people. Share your thoughts.

Promise me tomorrow starts with you getting high.

I felt really young tonight. Ok. Maybe it was due to the fact that i was hanging out with these girls that were 1-2 years younger than I was. It was nice though. The whole "old fogey with nothing better to do in life than stay online or watch tv or sleep because working 100hrs/week has jaded him" feeling is subdued. Or WAS subdued. Temporarily. It's seeping back in.



This is Olivia. She used to go to SAS but now goes to UBC. I've seen her around at school before, but never really said hi.... because.... yea. I don't know. She's 2 years younger than me and as a Senior in HS, you just didn't say hi to Sophomores. (yeayea typical HS bullsh*t but you know, we were all once young and foolish.) Unless of course you wanted to take em out to dinner or a movie or something and be more than friends. But anyways, this isn't the point. I was in the lobby of the American Club (after the Alumni thingy) and sat down next to her. We randomly strike up a conversation, and she tells me about her school, and people and things like that, like what she's studying. And I tell her about how f*cked up NS was cos of the work hours (I think it's just my unit man). The point is, it's nice to talk to people who can tell you about themselves without you having to ask a million questions and waiting for the right time because you're afraid of an awkward moment or interrupting the other person? There's a very fine line between confidence and arrogance, introducing oneself and being self-absorbed. I didn't even know this girl, but.. we had a very nice conversation. Good flow. No need for questions, just statements that were interesting. I think we lack that in Singapore. Random people just being nice to each other.

The next time you go to Burger King, MickyDees, KFC, Taco Bell or any other fast food place (I think that's all of them just listed right there), and come across a senior citizen at the counter serving you, or cleaning the place up, be nice to them? Random acts of general courtesy, I say again, GENERAL COURTESY really brightens up people's days. These 'old' (that's a relative term therefore in apostrophes) people aren't even supposed to be working. Just a simple Hi would do. I'd go for a "good morning/afternoon/evening". Say please. And most importantly, say Thank You. Appreciate these people for who they are. They don't owe you a f*cking living. The customer is always right, but the customer does not have to be an obnoxious b*st*rd. I'm sure you feel real good if someone said a simple Thanks rather than just take your kindness for granted. (You DO help people, right?)

Ok those two points did not necessarily link, but hey I'm just ranting some sh*t off the top of my head. Isn't that the point of a blog? I'm not writing a f*cking essay or anything right? If you want some essays, you could always go to school, or read some journals instead of this. if this sounds fruity to you, or you think I'm some kinda tree-hugger. GO F*CK YOURSELF. NARCISSISTIC B*ST*RD.

Linguistics.

Because my posts contain so many forceful words, we could start this one with something less forceful. According to Wikipedia's Singaporean Sexual Slang page, "Carry balls" translated into impeccable English is "sycophant." DUDE HAVE YOU EVEN HEARD OF THAT WORD MAN??? It's like an SAT word. WTF??? So next time you're friend is trying to s*** your boss's c****, you can say "You're a s...s....syc...sycof...fant!" and make it sound like you're a lot smarter. Also, Indian swear words are quite violent. Instead of saying "balls to you!", they have an English equivalent which goes "Destruction of one's testicles." That's quite a mouthful to be yelling when you wanna make someone punch you first so that it looks like you're the victim. I learnt in my AP Lit class that word selection is very important. Like if you want something forceful, choose things with C's, K's, T's, P's... things like that. Sharp phonetic words. F**K, SH*T, PISS. See how they all have C's, K's, T's and P's? This might sound like I'm having issues, but I'm just analyzing the linguistics of swear words.

I dedicate this post to my friend Marc, who decided to cheer me up by directing me to the Wikipedia Singapore sexual slang page. Amen.

I am still bored.

Ok no crazy devil dreams last night. Couldn't sleep though. woke up at like... 5 am or something to.... lookattheclockandfallbackasleep.

You do NOT do math at 9am on a thursday morning out of your own free will. It is the most mind numbing experience I've had since NS. Like. Your brain just hurts??? It's like trying to squeeze more juice out of a juiced lemon.

Late night entertainment.

http://www.scamorama.com/skipper_wang_qin.html

Ping sent me this.

Pictures. Finally.

AWESOME. Now i can put pictures on my blog. THANK YOU MANCHI FOR YOUR GENEROUS DIRECTIONS. (Actually I just read the FAQ on HOW DO I POST PICTURES). It's not really THAT idiot proof. I don't know. When you're bored and just want to post pictures ... it's actually quite hard.

Anyways I think I could get sued for posting that picture up there. It's by this dude called Eddie Adams. And he got flamed pretty bad for taking that picture and letting the world see it. Cos it made people pissed about the Vietnam War.. like how there was so much killing. (Hippies.. ya know... blah blah whatever.) Anyways the story behind it is like the guy who's getting a .38 into his brain is this Captain of the Viet Cong who raped people and burnt villages down (I THINK). And the man w/the gun is this Officer (HU-AH!!!) who's doing justice I suppose. Yea. it's cool, cos it's like the whole 'decisive moment'. Looks like the round hasn't even left the barrel but the guy's hair is flying up from the air comin out. Awesome.

Psychosis sets in. With colorful vocabulary.

COPIED FROM MY FRIENDSTER BLOG. Cos I wanted to put pix. But friendster's like.. hard to use. So um. Under strong recommendation and pressure from Ms.Manchi... I was forced at gunpoint to make this blog. And yea, I decided to edit it due to its strong language content that could be offensive to some.

Ok. Marc says.. nobody reads friendster blogs. and um... yea once you start to blog you have nothing to say. That's ok. Cos I'm f***in bored off my f***ing ass and the boredom is just OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOZing outta my f***in brains and spilling all over the floor. It's like.. mega meningingaisodngaosidgnait (meningitis.). Where the thing squeezes your brains out into your body. But I just took a jab for it about 5 days ago. so.. i should be pretty safe from the brains going into the body. THAT'S WHY IT'S F***IN SPILLING OUTTA MY EARS AND EYES AND SHIT.
Hmm.. so what in the hell is this blog thing man. Seriously. If you're reading this .. I wasn't intending to publish my life or thoughts to the world (which is why marc said nobody reads friendster blogs. but i dont really give a sh*t about ppl reading it.)... I'm just writing this cos I AM ABSOLUTELY F***IN BORED AND HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO WITH MY LIFE.
It's kinda fun just typing nonsense. HAHA.. (oh sh*t i'm starting to talk to myself). Um.... yea man. Ok he was right. There's nothing to say anymore. What the f***.
Oh yea lemme tell you about my dream. I dreamt that I was w/my cousin Ping... then at 0332hrs... the lights went off. And i got this SMS saying something like "meet in the living room". Ping got it too. so we both sat down and were like "what the f*** is going on man..." and suddenly out of the darkness comes this guy in a black pinstripe shirt w/black pants... Al Pacino looking (Like in The Devil's Advocate)..(wait or was that robert de niro. f*** whatever u know what i mean.)... and he starts talking sh*t like how not to believe God.. and stuff like that. Then he offers me fast cars and shit... So i'm sitting there thinking "HOLY SH*T F*** ME THIS IS THE DEVIL ASKING ME FOR MY SOUL IN EXCHANGE FOR ALL THIS AWESOME STUFF.".............Do NOT ever fucking dream of the devil. N E V E R. You see, when you're dreaming.. you like.. don't know wtf's happening in the real world, yea? but at this moment in time, i was really uncomfortable.. and i was rolling around in bed. HOW DID I KNOW THAT?? because i could f***ing feel it man. like i knew i was dreaming but i knew i was rolling around in bed. GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Anyways to cut it short i told mr. satan to eat shit and die and have a merry f***ing christmas. Then i woke up today. and washed my car and waxed it all nice. then it rained. So .... yea. I must've pissed him off or something right?
Hmmmm.... what else. Yea. I came to the realization that I have no purpose in life and I don't know what the f*** im doing for fun and what i'm gonna do when i get to college.
So. yea. There. my first blog. I lost my blog virginity typing a whole bunch of f***ing nonsense bullsh*t.
Oh btw, here's something of grey-matter value. My dad told me T.T. Durai (the NKF f***tard) gave himself OVERTIME PAY...... WHAT IN THE FLYING F***!?!?!?!? WHAT FU***NG CEO GIVES HIMSELF OVERTIME PAY MAN. It's not like you gotta f***in card to punch in and out of the office. GO F*** YOURSELF T.T DURAI. I f***ing worked 20hrs a DAY (that's slavery by some countries' standards) AND I DIDN'T GET NO F***IN OVERTIME PAY. F*** YOU. YOU CAN GO F***ING EAT SH*T AND DIE. A**HOLE. What a pussy. really.

Don't you like how I have such colorful vocabulary? =) (I'm a very positive and happy person, by the way.)