fluorescent adolescent

howdie there

ive been doing what's been known as "lounging". in other words, ive been sitting on my arse and doing nothing. my neighbourhood's under some sort of government plot to waste valuable tax money. so there's a ton of construction workers prowling about the hood. can't really sleep past 10 since they start work really early.

as we all know june is the month that the great singapore sale takes place. its also the month i emerged from my mother's womb. when those to things coincide, it spells bad news for me. for those of you who are familiar with my stand on shopping this doesn't come as a shock to you, but for those of you who don't, let me make my stand clear. i would rather eat cat brains out of my toilet bowl than step into one of those money sucking, economy funding malls that's so fucking packed my boobs get flattened. i don't get the whole hullabaloo that the female population(-1) go into when shopping is mentioned. why would anyone WANT to see their savings deplete before their eyes on stuff they don't need? its also the annoying sales person who follows you around pressuring you to buy something. maybe it because they think you're going to steal something but nonetheless, the hovering is annoying. anyway tomorrow, being the second saturday of the holidays, would be spent out with the mother and sister shopping (or rather moping in my case). maybe i'll con my mother into letting me stay at home...hmm...feel free to give suggestions fuckers...anytime now...

today i bring you 5 items that i have noticed floating around places that those demon young-uns hang around at. its all the rage now, really. im quite aware that im not the most reliable of sources on these sort of things but i assure you these are the latest bimbotic fads going around. and girls don't get upset now, the guys have risen to the occasion as well. they've taken to the "new age metrosexual" look really well. so here are the five items i have every intention of giving my thoughts on. feel free to take offense for my blog exists for no other purpose. so drum roll please...

#1birkenstock slippers/sandals: i can personally vouch for how comfy these slippers are. well i suppose they have to be for how much we have to pay to lay our hands on one of these. apparently they get shaped to suit your foot. marvelous until every single moron on planet earth gets a pair. their evident growing popularity have spawned cheaper imitations that provide you with as much comfort at a more reasonable price. alternatives and substitutes have set mr. birkenstock on a frenzy to make his goods unique or one of a kind. voila! colours and multiple designs with prints and such. this has set the singaporean consumer market to demand more for their precious feets (if you can't already tell, im being sarcastic)! the race against imitation goods has begun! who shall emerge victor in the race to provide comfort for our feets! if this hasn't caught you attention already, i should tell you ive seen many old ladies who have ascended to a considerable age adorning these slippers and trekking the transport systems. beware youths! alas, i remember a time when a $10 Bata pair of slippers would have sufficed for our ever growing insatiable needs and greeds. have we grown to forget those much simpler times.

#2these are what you call crocs. now don't worry, just because they're called crocs does not mean that they only come in green. they come in multiple colours for those of you concerned about whether they would clash against your skin tones. apparently, they must have stolen the foot molding techniques from mr. birkenstock, for it seems these too can somehow manage to shape itself to suit your foot shape. they say its rubber but i'd be careful. it just might be that such (bio)technology may have spurned from our reptilian friends, the lizard (hence, the name). the holes are for your feet to respire (very thoughtful, no?) and mostly the male population wears them. the female population wears them too but not too often. i think its because it would class with the rest of their ensemble. skinny jeans paired with crocs? perish the thought scum, methinks not! lets face it guys, why they even became a fashion statement is besides me. i mean, just look at them. they're hideous. the bright and ostentatious colours do nothing to help their cause. if we all try, we can stop this monstrosity immediately [bloomers can wait a while (reference to she's in fashion)].

#3
shorts: for some reason, the fad of going out in shorts to posh restaurants and scavenging town in these has really spread like wild fire. i get the singapore's so hot argument (my counter srgument on skinny jeans) but honestly when you little tits watch movies in these and then complain that its too cold, it really makes my laugh arse off. its not just one or two losers out there who where these shorts to vivo, its every single being with tits without wits. everyone just starts to look the same to me. and lets not kid ourselves that they're comfy alright? they're not. they look particularly stupid with belts. those of you who foolishly think that its a "hawt" combination: don't! stop right there and think. doesn't it look stupid to keep your already skin tight shorts that clings to your bum bum like...well...skin up with belts? the reason belts exist is to keep you pants up if you didn't have enough sense to buy the correct size or are too poor to buy new ones and have to make do with hand-me-downs. there's nothing wrong with that. when you abuse the use of a belt, its going to come back and bite you in the ass by making you look really moronic. those of you who own shorts and have paired them with belts, please take this opportunity to slap yourselves. thank you.

#4
skinny jeans: if there was ever a bad fashion statement revived from the disco era, the 80s, it would be these skinny jeans. recapitulation: they're named SKINNY jeans for one reason and one reason only. they're only meant to be worn by skinny people. surprised morons? well close that agape moth and realise the biasness that these pants have brought into the fashion world. you brought them back, you abide by the rules. when chunky asses think they can pull of skinny jeans (or even fit into them), its really like acid being injected into my pupils. i personally do not like to see lard bottoms being squeezed into tiny spaces. a crime on every count! come now, lets face the truth shall we? fat bottoms do not go well with skinny jeans. another problem i have with these demonic apparels would be the fact that they now come in colours. yes, colours. but stop right there. before you think of going out there to buy yourself some and making a collection out of them, here me out. while i have no problem with the staple black of dark blue, i can't bare to see people walking down the streets with bright colored pants. urgh...memories from the 80s mtv era. it was a time that we left behind for a reason, a very good one i must say. trust me, there is absolutely no way you can match rainbow pants here with anything. if you already own them please burn them and never think about them ever again. mtv has done more harm than good to today's youths, hasn't it? girls wearing skinny jeans is one thing, but men too?! now every tom dick and happy thinks wearing skinny jeans makes them automatic overnight rock stars. a menace that mtv must pay for for forcing it down our throats, in my opinion. now, everyone to thinks that they can be my alex turner, damn it! let me try reasoning this out: guys, seeing the shapes of your "lovely" thighs and rotund bottoms have really deflowered my virgin eyes and im not too pleased with this. so please stop! alas, my pleas will not work. the working of young wayward teenagers is not my place to change. we must take cover until this phase passes. join me for it is our only hopes for survival.

#5tote bags: frankly i have no idea why this is even on here. it makes girls look like aunties and guys (trust me those idiots have taken the equality thing WAY too far) look like the genitals have a tough time getting up. a brief description would include a short handle and large carrying space. don't give me the "but its so practical!" bullshit. i ain't buying none of that fucking nonsense. these "aunty" bags, if you may, come in many designs though i don't know why. its as if they think it will help their cause. aunty bags are carried by aunties like they're supposed to. they're no a fashion statement unless you're an aunty. and yet girls between 12-25 have taken to carrying these bags. i wouldn't have a problem with this but doesn't it get on your nerves that every single girl (and even some boys) have one. its sucks the uniqueness out of it and nothing that stupid should be such a common phenomenon. if one person owns a tote bag, you can shrug it of. if everyone has one, there's really a problem with people's tastes and judgment. how can EVERYONE be so stupid? it looks stupid. the opening is at your arm pit for crying out loud! when you want to get something from your bag, guess where your hand has to go? never thought about that did you?! aha! i hope now you know how stupid it is to look like you're scratching your pits whenever you need you lip gloss or wallet.

that's the end of a very long rant of a post. just thought you might like to know the logic (or rather the lack thereof) behind the things you mad fucks do thinking its really cool. i hope you reflect on you tom foolery and turn over a new leaf. change your simpleton ways and live for peace and freedom. no need to look moronic because everyone else looks moronic yeah...for those of you mother fuckers out there who were extremely offended by this post, i don't give a fuck what you think because i was doing you a FAVOUR. get those 5 items out of your closet and give them to charity or something.

obsessions

my 8G ipod nano finally arrived today! its ready for use but i don't want to use it until i get a cover for it. i tend to drop things. so until i pick up a case for my baby from vivo its not going to see the light of day. its pretty isn't it? i thank every chinese child that ever had a hand in assembling my ipod from the bottom of my heart.

pw pw pw. its the bane of my life. its a constant nag and source of the electric pain searing down my spinal cord. its a rather heavy workload even for five-minus-one people. survey and pilot studies have taken over my dreams and turned them into nightmares. honestly, who would ever want to do surveys about the disabled and partake in pilot study? we've got people dropping dead like flies in myanmar, africa, china and india (not that i care) and im doing surveys? great. my woes with pw do not just end there. it doesn't help that my group has one inactive member (not me cockers). i feel like like picking up the phone, calling her and giving her a good ol' fashioned yelling at, but thats not my job. the person who should be babysitting her at this age shouldn't exist. she's supposed to babysit herself. plus its really embarrassing for a grown teenager of 17 to be told off by her own peers. she's an adult and she has to start minding her own apple tree. doesn't really do anything for the group's dynamics either. she must start shoveling some of the crap that we've been dealt with or im going to have to take action (from the few times that ive been irate, ive made people cry).

recently ive taken a liking to watching lost season 4 and let me just tell you guys, highly recommended. i absolutely love and die for tv shows like lost and 24 and for the most part of heroes (lets face it season 2 was written by fucking morons with silicon tits for brains). its highly action packed, people keep unexpectedly dying, there's no distinctive good guy and none of that deep meaningful feelings and shit. lost is loaded with truckloads of conspiracy theories! at every corner there's a mind blowing revelation! now thats what i call mind fuckery. lost has the bone chilling goosebumps effect on me (as with heroes for a period of time until they ran out of ways to kill of main character, peter "im immortal because i absorbed my niece's regenerative powers so i can't die" peterelli). sitting in my little cradle chair with my lap top balanced on my knees, i rub those pimples down. that's when i know that its going to be a good show (pretty geeky, i know). if you lot ever get some spare time off, try getting your hands on the dvd or something. spend the week watching back to back episodes of lost and you'll get what im talking about. complete and utter mind fuckery type of high that you can never obtain from drugs, i tell you...

i was asked a very odd question today on msn. who's your favourite super hero? a question to which the answer is as clear as alice's looking glass! everybody loves fucking batman (just ask catwoman). no questions asked. hands down winner. spider man and wolverine may take a quick whiff at the oh-so-hot leather bat cape, but not even close guys. NOT EVEN CLOSE. batman saves the world solely relying on his acrobat skills (with the help of gadgets and that dick, robin). none of that chemical X bullshit (a reference to power puff girls=>shut it fat fucks). no need for fancy shmancy flying. ALL GADGETS! no super powers AND the quick witted use of gadgets. who doesn't love a man who can push all the right buttons? bat mobile instead of flying. throw in a cool car why don't you. uh hello? need i say more?! i think there probably was a point where they actually couldn't decide how to make him awesomer. its a bit like asking rocky road how to improve chocolate ice cream, you know? ah...the ultimate comic book hero...

i may give school a miss tomorrow. doesn't make sense to travel for 2 hrs and only have lessons for 1. plus i haven't done my econs essay. heh heh heh.

map of the problematique

hello

its the school holidays kiddies and its time for school! oh what joy. imagine my discourse when i learnt for the first time that i had to come back during the school holidays for school. a mini cyclone nagis went through my room. i was clearly unhappy. the holidays is a time for me to dig a hole in my bedroom floor and thank the forces for allowing me not to see my daily annoyances (don't pretend you don't know what im talking about). its a time where i go to the beach and allow the artificial waves at sentosa wash away my troubles. its a time when i ride my rusty bike and cycle to woodlands and back. its not enough that common tests come AFTER the holidays, they've made a hobby out of dragging me down to school through the cement pavements, kicking and screaming. makes me rethink my decision of going to a JC. since i hate school so much, why put yourself through 2 more. alas, i didn't always hate school. believe it or not there was time where i embraced the thought of going to school and seeing all my friends, getting highest in class, doing math and loving the fact that it was a monday. because on mondays there was chem lab practicals. mmm...titration always got me high (its possible it was the chemicals too). drip drip drip...(what? i never denied the fact that i was a geek.) and now look at the state im in. a constant failure and doing the "all alone in the world thing". screw life.

ive always been told that i have no people skills and that i was thoughtlessly frank. and ive always told myself that it was a good thing. it was better to be mercilessly frank than being a hypocrite. they told me the real world would ring my doorbell one day and mug me after punching me in the face. i said people can handle it, they're an evolved species fully fledged with opposable thumbs and an intricate mind. i refused to believe that people would really rather be lied to the face to than to actually hear other people's honest opinions. such was my faith in mankind. once again, they've disappointed me. clearly i was wrong. lately ive been doing some of that contemplating life thing. it seems the 7-stage evolution did nothing for our kind. truth be told, i think we've actually digressed. maybe, nobody wants to hear the truth. biologically we may have evolved, emotionally we're still like a thin sheet of glass tinkering on the edge of a cliff. and though i hate that the human race is like this, i have to live my life assuming that the people around me are fragile creatures who are still stuck sucking on their mummy's tits. screw life.

i stop myself every time i want to stab someone back to reality with my cut throat sarcasm. i stop myself every time i want to shake them back to the land of common sense where most of us live in. i try reminding myself they're still babies in diapers with annoying tendencies and probably have families/boyfriends that treat them like a princesses/princes. even though its incredibly condescending, it is my job to be understanding. and yes, EVEN though they're about the same age as me but act like ball sucking pre-schoolers without a single thought of their own, i have to hold my crap in and hope that it'll go away. after all, if i lose my temper at the poor, fragile, delicate (but fucking irritating) rose, guess who's the bitch who made the baby cry? guess who will go running to mummy with her thumb in her mouth. so, guess who checks her sarcasm and potty mouth at the school gate. guess who smiles painfully pretending to be a understanding and NICE participant. go on, guess. im letting myself be life's bitch this year. life's fucking me. i can't even look at my hypocritical self in the mirror anymore.

today a south indian garbage man whistled at me. so tomorrow, im bringing my "hardly been used" ball slicer down to the garbage collection hut. he thinks he can get away with it eh? well bastard, think again! muahahahaha. anyway, this is exactly why i can't stand indian foreigners. not only do they deplete all of saudi arabia's fine oil supply and empty it on their heads, they actually think that garbage collecting makes them fine and eligible bachelors that every woman wants. just because they let you into singapore to clean up my neighbourhood's crap, does not mean that your penis can go anywhere it pleases, horny fucker. clearly there had been some trauma. clearly...

hey guys, if you're going to read my blog, read all of the posts shit heads. AND i don't want to hear anymore mother fucking comments about my colourful language anymore. children who can't handle my swearing, should stick their head up their own arse where its nice, warm and fuzzy filled with FEELINGS and stuff. and if you're going to complain, bugger off. don't read my sodding blog morons. simple as that. there really are plenty of boring but nice blogs out there featuring trailing cursors (that's annoying by the way) with lots of pictures of bunny rabbits. read those. free speech is really a gift from the heavens. lets not stifle it.

i think im really pathetic. really hit rock bottom here: I MISS PEOPLE. my sister, my sec sch friends, my tjc friends, my FRIENDS. i suppose its the holiday season blues. otherwise, do you realise how uncomfortable and touchy feely it would be for ME to admit it??!! its really fucking ROCK BOTTOM. im going to go burn myself with some non-biodegradable fuel now. oh wait, i'll do that tomorrow. still have to polish and sharpen my ball slicer tonight. something has to cheer me up after a bad day right?

my kind of town

hey

today class played captain's ball against the republic of china. lost. how can we win against those competitive buggers? its no wonder they're the fastest growing economy the world has ever seen. they were really quite aggressive compared to the class. they got really worked up (as im sure i would too if i actually involved myself in the game more). hurling balls always seem a little more safer when they're not being hurled. im really quite useless at PE, maybe its because my mind detaches itself from any form of competition. anyway, today i got slathered with the sweat of china when this oriental gorilla man (sorry, i fear i may offend the chinese by misspelling names) just shoved me aside with his slimy urea covered body. he also made racially degrading comments about me in tongue (maybe it was chinese...hmmm) but i have no right to be pissed because i make racist jokes about indians all the time. and im sure china managed to translate all those e mails i sent to them by now and have a warrant ready to arrest me anytime now. i visited parliament yesterday and i must say it isn't all its cracked up to be.

i tried to mess the parliament survey up today during civics by giving my honest opinion (of how it was a hoax to get you to vote for PAP. i think it simply translated to poor though.) but im sure i just came off as being "extra" so i stopped. plus you had to give reasons for your honesty ( i was so scared someone would walk in to the classroom in a dark suit carrying a machine gun, ready to put a few of them bullets in me heart). on an more random note, anyone else feel that civics is a waste of my time, as with CCA, PW and ME? we could all be released way earlier from school if that were to happen. not that i have a social life to greet my sunny disposition after school but besides the point. i also can't stand that my CT tries to act like my mummy. i already have a maternal figure and it works just fine. it kind of get on my nerves [but then she's also very nice to me when i don't do homework (which is all the time) so im in half hearts]. the only thing i learned from the learning journey was that we need to bring the government down with pitchforks and burning torches like they used to do during early witch hunts. do any of us realise that singapore is a one party state? those despicable cads are bordering on evil. not to mention, the opposition is the spawn of my rectum. sooner or later a smart aleck is going to walk into the istana and machine gun the place down (AGAIN i didn't mean me). without any real competition, PAP's standards are going to drop just as it has these few years. im not saying im unappreciative of LKY's contributions but those were years from a black and white era. these days we all just stop paying attention to the elections and vote simply based on name recognition. "we've been voting for PAP all these years and so we're just going to vote PAP again." that's the mentality singaporeans bring to the table these days and that's not going to improve the already back lagging singapore. there's a quality about singaporeans that i hate. they have no opinions of their own, no mind of their own, zero tolerance for change. and while other asian countries are figuring out the formula for the success concoction, we just sit on our arses hoping they'd flatten. we need proper competition to keep the governing party on its toes and to contest decisions by bringing in fresh perspectives. such is the case with the US elections.

obama can never be president but he offers real competition to clinton and their republican counterparts. he brought out the needs of minority groups almost as soon as he became a candidate. and even if he doesn't win, he has raised vital issues that the next president is forced to address. he brings in fresh insight to america's deep seated problems. many of fail to realise this and simply think that he's going to win because he's different, promises change and will monopolise the minority groups votes. but clinton offers almost the same things and she has her husband's coattail to back her up. so why is america so keen to see obama take the hot seat? in my opinion, the simply like the idea of having a black president. they're in love with the notion that they can accept a black president. because you see, it will be the ultimate proof that they're past of black racism and slavery is completely gone. this is also a reason why if a british black man stood for presidency/ prime minister he would not evoke as much frenzy and cause for hullabaloo. British never really took the black enslavement thing to the extreme that america had and their black population is about 60% less that the black population in america. should there be really such a candidate in the near future, he would lose without much uproar. this won't be the case in america though. you can be assured that there will be millions of disappointed americans out there, further reiterating the fact that bush's successor will have to step up his game if he were to ever win back victims of obamania.

this is how i expect the elections to go down:
clinton vs. obama, clinton takes the spot for democrat.
mccain vs. huckabee, mccain take he slot for republican.
mccain vs. clinton, mccain takes over bush's war on terror file.

we won't like it but, it seems that's the way its going to be. UNLESS, there's a independent candidate and that fucker may make things really sour for mccain and oh so sweet for clinton. americans need to soon realise that they have to stop spoiling their votes by choosing their favourites alone. they made that mistake 8 years ago and the results was the devil's spawn bush. at least that's my take. if you'd beg to differ, go right ahead. aaaah...american politics...they quench my thirst for some real drama that we never get here in singapore. its the educated soap opera.

today in literature lesson we analysed a robert frost poem and i think he has taken the second place spot in my heart (for poets). sylvia plath's number one. simply because she's a little more morbid and angry in her poems. she really ruins hope for love and makes it really quite depressing. her poems are always so "sticks head in oven" suicidal types. but robert frost is very cynical and his poems are quite insightful. teacher showed us quotes and they were all quite cool. he lived such a sad life but at least he took away something from it eh? my favourite quotes are these ones i think:

"Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it."

"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired."

"There are two kinds of teachers: the kind that fill you with so much quail shot that you can't move, and the kind that just gives you a little prod behind and you jump to the skies."

note: hardly any use of vulgarities. until next time. toorah.

supermassive black hole

obviously i thought the picture was really quite fuckable. (the composition. the lighting. the moment. the sheer brilliance. the shadows. the silhouettes. ooooh daddy. heh heh heh alright alright i'll stop. as though you've never...ahem...never mind. i happen to know some very young adolescent girls read this, so lets keep it PG13, shall we?) aaah...the young, handsome, rich and very talented matthew bellamy(urgh...i sound like a jane austen novel, but love can do strange things to you kiddies). also very attatched. fuck. why do we young-uns always end up falling in love with the unattainable and devine? alas, i have no answer for i too have become a victim to this very icon's charms. to no fault of his own though. the lucky devil can't help being the definition of awesome.

what does this has to do with anything i say? how would i know. i can do whatever/whoever the fuck i fancy. its my blog. so there!

alright, now on to some real blog barf that really has nothing to do with the rest of the world. for those of you who know me, i wouldn't have to alert you to the fact that i spent this 3 day weekend doing absolutely nothing. absolutely nothing except stay in bed all day playing (mahjong) with myself. im pretty sure there's no real damage. but then again even if there is, i wouldn't know. haven't moved enough to find out. this weekend was awesome! i think my life's ambition may very well be doing as little as possible. maybe a quick run for US presidency may allow that to happen. what better way to spend your life than to be sitting on your arse with a bowl of honey stars in one hand and the detonater for one of iraq's women and children shelter in the other. aaah...what a life. man, ive got to get me some of that bush lifestyle. yup, my weekend was completely uneventful. mmm....just how i like them.

there's a ball sucking, cock screwing, arse fucking chemistry test on tuesday. 15 marks that may very well determine whether or not i get to see the likes of jc2 life. but right now that 15 marks can very well be shoved up my buddy, bush's ass. if i thought i should care, i would. but once again, i really don't (turns out didn't have to it anyway, since i spent the whole night studying the next day i just took a gtreenslip and went home, JOY). my youth is better spent playing mahjong and balancing dinner on my belly. yes fuckers i get the irony here, so shut it, only karma's humongous indian arse can judge me. its the last week of the term and i would like to spend it doing absolutely nothing. then ive got to start cramming 5 months worth of work into 3 weeks. just fantastic, fan-fucking-tastic.

i finally managed a short post. enjoy it while it lasts morons. for once my brain is empty except for the fact that i keep seeing green dragons everywhere (mahjong lingo). humdiggidy im going insane. oh crack pipe...wherefore are thou crack pipe...someone mentioned my blog's nc 16. yay! I AM NOT POLITICAL, more politically incorrect and i admit im racist. uncle fucking indians always know how to piss me off. so there, all matters addressed!

the protest

hello there

i need an ipod. its not a want, its a need. simply for the fact that my song collection is getting way beyond 2 gig(capacity of my current mp3 player): its standing at 1200 songs. i hate to brag (oh wait, i actually love it don't i?) but there's not nearly enough space. i've got to keep deleting songs to make space for new finds and i hate doing that! it takes time and effort. recently my collection's expanding at an alarming rate thanks to friends who have good taste (5 bjork CDs!, websites with unrestricted downloads, wouldn't you love them too?). i hope you ignorant saps notice the music that i've got on the sidelines. play them. it's always fabulous to have new(or rather old) songs in your itunes (or for some noobs: windows media player). they're songs that never get old, or get better with time. (exaples: wine/hugh laurie/pickles/MUSE).

speaking of hugh laurie, those copycat buggers down at mediacorp are going to air the FIRST season of House. MD. yes, i said first. wtf right? unless those dicks there don't watch any television and have been completely cut off from mankind, they should already know that AXN has already finished its third season of house and about to go on to its fourth. they're also repeating season 2. honestly, i hope they realise no ones going to be interested, especially since its practically showing at dawn. that's one of the reasons someone's going to gun down mediacorp one day (not me shit heads, i said someone!). they're slow at everything they do. not to mention their local programmes are no where near comparable to bbc entertainment. here are six shows that mediacorp has shamelessly broadcasted and considers to have earned critical success (do they even watch the shows before they start loading horse shit on innocent and potentially brilliant children?):

1) my sassy neighbour (features a foot reflexologist cum nosey neighbourhood aunty saving the neighbourhood from bengs and other perils of singapore)
2)Phoa Chu Kang pte ltd (features a yellow boot adorning contractor with an equally obnoxious family)
3)the yang sisters (i have no idea what fuck goes on there but im sure masturbation takes precedence)
4)under one roof (family sitcom featuring a typical chinese family with typical chinese problems)
5)living with lydia (words cannot describe the horrors that were being presented with this show, i hate to say this but i'm fucking ecstatic that its nearly impossible to make another season)
6)police and thief (cop and beng go at it like savage beasts/sigaporeans while secretly hiding they're feelings for one another PG 13)

all of the above mentioned shows have had more than one seasons and have not been canceled. while i can't understand for the life of me why not, i do understand that these shows appeal to the masses. to which i mean the chinese. im being racist, i know. if i thought that i should care, i would. but i don't. the chinese traditionally have a tendency to like watching things that lower IQ points. not all chinese though. after deep observations and monitoring for years, ive come to realise that only certain type of chinese watch these shows...fervently. i've categorised them accroding to the way they look, however, as any good blogger will do there's a disclaimer somewhere down the sentence, the sorting is not absolute. there are closet ah lians out there as well too, afraid of people like me to come out in the open. fringe that covers half their face+miniature clips that do nothing to pin the fringe up+tote bag+ostentatious coloured skinny jeans= ah lians who probably wouldn't mind cutting their time at zouk short on friday nights to catch their 9 o' clock mandarin drama. come now, be proud sad suckers, if you're stupid enough to watch those dramas, you're stupid enough to admit it. alas, nowadays it isn't just girls watching these local mind numbing shows either, our fellow bengs are getting their daily fix as well. well done! make your ah lian girlfriends proud!

so now that we've established who watches there programmes, lets discuss the theory of demand and supply. when there are screaming slutty (alliteration, my dears) ah lians desperate for someone on televison to tell them how to lead their lives, there will definitely be mediacorp making shows inspired to tell these ah lians how to lead their lives. furthermore, because of the gravity of importance placed on these shows, mediacorp takes the opportunity to advertise the govenment, its policies and their own views on how life will work out all fine and dandy as long as you "jia you" and say "ni yong le". eventually, everybody will end up with everybody and the bad guy will go to jail/die (but with no fault on the hero's part, of course). the dangers to these kinds of shows become really evident when prepubescent 12 year olds actually start acting like characters in these dramas. it just sickens me to see them taking over the likes of west mall with their fringes that cover half their face and useless banter in mandarin adulterated with english. soon we'd be hearing them go "kawaii ney? wo hen xi huan na ke teddy bear!". urgh...i just barfed in my mouth and swallowed it back for fear of damage to my computer.

the sheer truth of the matter is that there's a market for boring retold stories that are strictly rated PG in singapore. while that's good new for people with no cable television and the cheena community, those of us who actually desire a daily dose (im alliterating for emphasis, can you tell fuckers?) of quality entertainment would like prime time shows back where they belong: during prime time! sadly the likes of constuction workers donning yellow boots and the mundane adventures of the neighbourhood foot reflexologists are ruling the airways. its because of these shortcomings that we need external service providers like starhub and singtel to spruce up our living rooms' vital plastic boxes. the media has gone to the dogs and the economy is feeding off it. whatever can people who fear for the degradation of their IQ do? i'll tell you what we should do! let us rejoice for youtube and take a moment to thank and bless Vinton Cerf for the invention of the internet.

shit it ended being a "let's revolutionise the world post" again. no matter. progress was made on coarse language.

the devil's workday

hello

(warning may contain offensive material to some)

i love uneventful days...aaah. my fridays are usually like that. today we had chapel and not one of those stupid popularity contests to get into whatever shit council. i never thought i'd see the day where i actually would have picked chapel over something else(anything else for that matter). but that said, today's chapel was quite alright. my ct and s26 ct led the karaoke songs for the first time. they weren't too bad if not for the fact that it was fucking boring. stand up, be respectful, strain eye muscles to prevent the reflex action of rolling your eyes. the usual stuff. today was extra special because we had this dried up old dude come in. he was one of those orientals with a wierd hybrid of aussie and chinese accent. for some reason he thought it'd be a good idea to tell his barber that he wanted to look like the asian ringo starr. bad idea fucker. his singing wasn't as good as my man, ringo, but it was passable. whipped out his instrument(heh heh heh) and started strumming it and crooning some "praise the lord" song. and i clapped...but just a little. after the git stopped being entertaining. imagine a lao ah pek singing a pop song. that's how my morning kicked of. give me crack pipe any day. (i think you guys would probably realise that i'm nocturnal by now). i suppose thats how you get the young guns interested in worship and all that......stuff. today's chapel was extra long but it wasn't as bad as my very first experience. it was enough to make anyone turn atheist just to prove a point. well, to me at least.

my first experience (of chapel, mind you fucking dick suckers) was really quite a nightmare. being the fun-loving, all-accepting jc1 that i am(hooray), i was looking forward to wondrous first chapel session of my long stay in SA. the pastor came with power point slides(yes guys, religion has completely taken over technology). the slide show was entitled "hair". okay...seemingly harmless. notice i said seemingly. he went on to give us fun-filled facts about hair. made jokes about his lack of it. it was all quite amusing. i began to relax. you have millions of hair follicles on your head. yes, i have millions of hair follicles on my head. there are about an estimated 1800 hairstyles all over the world. oh, there are about an estimated 1800 hairstyles all over the world. each follicle can produce 2-3 stands throughout its life time. wow, each follicle can produce 2-3 stands throughout its life time. the lord jesus knows exactly how many strands of hair you have on your head. incredible, the lord jesus knows exactly how many...waaaaaaaait a minute...jesus knows what??!! er...okay. almost had me there for a sec. good one. kudos. i suppose, that's soft propaganda for you right there. after that you can imagine it just went downhill.

i must say i was quite traumatised after that incident. stayed the hell away from anyone rumoured to own a bible or a vedas for that matter. that didn't last long though. all my best pals are all church-going christians. trust me...if anyone notices the irony, its me. but let me tell you its not always fun and games once you've befriended them. the thing about christians is that they're a very modern religion. i know 2008 years seem like really long but taoism came about 30 or 40 years before christ and hinduism goes back way before the concept of documentation ever came about. so yes, they're a very modern and new religion and they are one of the fastest growing ones around as well. caught on like wild fire after britain did their we-know-better-than-poverty-ridden-asia-thing. hence, it can be concluded that they know how to keep up with the modern man and how to keep youths coming back for more. activities ranging from cells group to bible studies, they have them all. my point is, my pals are all involved with church activities (it isn't just sundays where i have nothing to do anymore). so when i try to be a supportive friend (on rare occasions), it gets uncomfortable sometimes. i mean, the singing and praying, im somewhat prepared for. i do have years of experience (over those born again christians) from a somewhat traumatic childhood. unlike some of you christians out there who are still only halfway through the bible, i've actually read the whole book before i believe/disbelieve everything it says. i've also gone for church services so im not a complete idiot about what im talking about. (and no shit heads, i didn't melt from the jesus rays, the test was failed...muahahahaha) here's what ive learnt from church: there comes a point when you have to meet "the others". what really scared me off and sets me of on a radical stream of emotions is the attempt at blatant conversions and the long minutes of hand holding. (its also the constant pressure of trying to keep lewd thoughts out of my head in case someone hears them. that's never good. you ultimately end up having them anyway. oh dear...the irony)

strange looking growth stunted lady(SLGSL): so...are you christian?(still holding my hand)
me: no (i avoid saying not really, theres a vagueness to it that sounds like you're there for a reason other than to support a friend)
SLGSL: but you're a free thinker...?
me: yes (shit, i lied in a church...im going to hell for sure...i ain't no free thinker)
SLGSL: are you looking to join our church? (WTF i just said free thinker!!! that's a non-obligatory answer! you're not supposed to probe any further SLGSL)
my brain dead thought process: would "not in a million years" be too frank? would "maybe" earn me another session of hand holding?

i finally decide on the simple "no". she looks disinterested, lets go of my hand (finally! it was getting kinda sticky) and turns to my friend and repeats the process only to get far more suitable and fruitful replies. she's christian of course. relieved, i take my leave only to discover i have another session of "friend supporting" to go to a few days later. but this time, im prepared. its a school concert. the lights will be out. what better way to camouflage a huge indian arse than to wear black? effective right? WRONG. see, these people have plotted and planned this for months. did i really not expect any servants of jesus to comb the place for people like me and hunt me down? "raise your hands if you're willing to accept the lord jesus christ into your heart" *slumps deeper into seat, arms firmly folded* "step forward if you're willing to say..."*lies flat on ground attempting to crawl my way out, army style* shit! one saw me...alright alright i'll stand...stop giving me the evil eye okay?? he leaves me be only to have him come back later with survey forms and complementary pencils...greeeaaat! what better way to end of a jesus worship session that with feedback forms and surveys? there wasn't really an option which said "here to support friend only" so my solution was to give them what they want and fill my friends particulars up. i don't want any jesus-lover calling my handphone saying "do you want to know jesus christ, my friend?" to which i SHOULD respond: "no fucking way am i giving up karma for this shit" its happened before, who's to say it won't happen again?

after all that turmoil, i finally got to see my friend in person (highlight of the event). she was really adorable. very spritely. i've got to say, the event was entertaining on a whole and it was one of those rare occasions that i got to see my very good friends. but i think i'll just stick to my hindu principles and atheist beliefs for now. im honestly quite grateful that most of my friends don't peddle religion like a insurance salesman (guaranteeing me a spot in heaven for eternity) on me as i've known some others to do so. i've come to realise, over the years, that those who want to share their religion with me, very rarely want me to share mine. trust someone who has had a lot of experience on this matter, it only invites trouble and earns you the losing end of an argument(which we all hate).

i thought that since i was discussing something holy, i better try editing my not so holy language. it seems alright now.

she's in fashion

hello

i've been told that my blog is the angsty one of its lot. (no, im not planning to gun the school down. im going to let it meet its own ruin. muhahaha.) the important thing is its not cheena. that will just make everyone just want to kill themselves. especially since im indian.

anyway, today when i was commuting to school in my father's car i realised that there's a huge generation gap. wait. this isn't one of my "life's like that" kind of posts. the reason for this mega one hundred ton realisation was that for the majority of our conversation i had no fucking clue as to what he was going on about. he just went on and on and on as xy chromosome inheritors tend to do. there i was, just sitting there tuning in and out to what he was saying. it was like that fuzzy radio static whenever you tune in to malaysian radio stations. of course it doesn't really help that he converses with me in tamil 30% of the time. it disrupts the flow as i've got to put in all my effort in making the transition between the two. trust me, its not easy. half the time i doubt myself how i got through hmt in one piece. the point is my tamil sucks balls and its like i have a pair of earmuffs on. so he just casually asks me : "so you're wearing bloomers under your skirt?". "what (in fucking hell) is that?" i ask, suddenly quite awake from the the use of a "foreign term" i didn't quite get. to me (and don't pretend you didn't think this either arse wipes): bloomers=blooming=flowering=womanhood=breasts/menstruation=topic fathers shut their traps on. and so my curiosity urges me to take the bait. i asked. i made an attempt to continue the conversation. i bold attempt on my part. a simple yes or no would have sufficed but i wanted to know what he was on about. he had piqued my interests. it seems bastards, bloomers are actually shorts. okay that made eons more sense than my definition. apparently, they're pe shorts from a time unknown to man. and get this (this will blow your mind out) they're shorts with pleats and gutters! yeah, not typos. apparently its for females of that era. regular shorts are just too comfortable and god forbid women wear comfortable clothes. the pleats are to hide the bum bum's shape and the gutters are so that the man-boys can't pull a peek-a-boo on you. (come on jack asses, lets all take moment to thank thailand for those glorious fbts) in ADDITION, there's a lining within the shorts itself to prevent you panty line from showing (amongst other things). for those sad saps who can't for the life of them picture the horrors implemented on sporting women back then, a picture is worth a thousand words. so i bring you 2: lo and behold! observe the horrors, lurkers of the new age! it was an era of pain and suffering for womankind but we pulled through. some may have been left behind but they're usually locked up in basements some where in austria. whats even more ridiculous is that they're attempting to make a fashion statement by bringing them back. i beg of you all, let us reunite and put a stop to this. its really just a menace. no one should be allowed to step outside their homes adorning a parachute around their thighs. what's even worse is that (yes theres more) indians who were particularly conservative (more so than now. come now, forgive and forget you racist mother fuckers) took the fashion statement one step further. they wore the shorts such that it began way above their belly button and then the demonic thing just continues all the way below their knees. i've been told that numerous times that im racist against my own race but, i must say, this has earned me the license guys. honestly, indians HAD tits for brains, they knew exactly how to make something utterly diarrheal even more so. so rascals, remember, next time you're out and about town, don't forget to wear clean bloomers.

now: imagine how bloomers would look under a mini skirt! i think i have helped engrave a very indescribable picture in the back of your minds. you're welcome mother fuckers. i was meaning to post up a fantastic song that's been ringing in my ears all day but the internet's proving its unreliability once again. next them then eh?

(i hope you anal, stick in the muds have realised the EVIDENT cut down of some of my very colourful and vibrant words)

why does it always rain on me?

hey

lately i've been incredibly bored out of my wits. school is such a drag but what's new to this jc student destined to hold a minimum wage job. i know loads of my peers are ecstatic, what with the sports season going on and about. but it really doesn't rub of on me. flocking down to watch energetic people kick balls around isn't really my idea of fun. (well a different kind of ball, maybe...) what worries me though is a far cry from that. my worries centre around the fact that i have never experienced school spirit(amongst other things) and i know this may be met with some gasps of mortification but alas, its true. some pricks out there may not understand but its really is quite hard for me to get excited about anything related to school. im truly as energetic as a cock in cold water. seeing as im from crescent girls school, the school spirit hellhole, one would expect me to have a whale of a time at sajc. i mean my fellow contemporaries have "adjusted" just fine into the hullabaloo SA has to offer. just not me. i should think that by this amount of time i've spent in SA, i would have already adopted (or rather hit in the head by) some of that SA pride and spirit everyone's been flinging at me like shot puts. but nope. none whatsoever.

perhaps it has something to do with the fact that my time in sa has hardly been enjoyable. if i was a first intaker, maybe. after all, i did have a certain level of fun in tjc. i can't help but feel bored with the mundane life that sajc has to offer me. i'm not sure if its the same for the rest of you lucky pricks, but i feel like im dragging a corpse(my own that is) around school. and yes yes, that's supposed to be a new look for me, contrary to popular belief. apparently its permanent now.

by this time, you guys must be wondering: where's the dirt on the class? you hungry arse wipes thrive on these things don't you. therein, cruelties lie. i have none. they're a total bore. but i must clarify, they're in no way at fault for my misery. i blame the government. yes. the government that we 3rd generation singaporeans have come to despise. as always i attribute everything bad that goes on in my life to the government. their education system has dulled our senses and our inborn ability to see life for what it really is (a joke, a big lard-laced cruel joke. jesus probably wouldn't agree with my views but he's not here is he? hah.) anyway, the point being you really can't bitch about boring people. they really can't help it. the education system is such that laughing during anything related to learning is prohibited. as a result we completely stop processing the humour we see or hear. like today during math lecture, the lecturer said "you can see my (hyper)bola"...he left out the hyper part...any self respecting teenager with the proper pervy mind workings of one would have laughed their head off...and yet i could practically hear the crickets chirping...that's right guys...silence...dead silence...not even a single snigger. and there i was in the back row trying to control my laughter, holding my sides in and singgering like a horny 13 yr old. (for those who don't know bola is ball for malay. K1 malay 101 guys. now i hope you get it this time ass fucks).

what? all of a sudden we're all mature adults in jc then? and then again in gp tutorial: "its always hard the first time you're doing it"(or something along those lines) come on guys! everyone knows what "doing it" is equivalent to and using "hard" in the same sentence...good grief...i'm going to contract a stomach ulcer from keeping some very extreme emotions in. moreover she's a straight laced, bonnet adorning christian who teaches the very straight laced subject of gp! license to loosen up your rectum guys! laugh for crying out loud! arguably, it may just be me, the perpetual idiot...in the moment it was hilarious and not to mention, obvious. i think im destined to lead a lonely and sad life for the next 1.5 years. oh dear...

here's something else that happened today:
i was planning to conveniently skip the security talk we had today to catch up on some sleep, a friend's idea by the way. and being the good student i am, i was contemplating whether or not i should go (a process that anyone with a semblance of a conscience would go through). i was going to see if majority of my classmates were skipping it so that i could just slip past unnoticed. my friend, being the opinionated darling that she is said: "don't bother. you're insignificant in your class anyway." while i was serenading the CC with my cackles for both the truth and bitchiness of the statement, it struck me that it was fucking sad. it seems im the plus 1. the loser. the freak. the annoyance. the EXTRA...HOLY dancing crayfish, the horror of that occurrence. (got over it quite fast by the way) i must say, its my first time being down there. and the view...well not so great guys...trust me.

oh well, so my life in jc is not as fan-fucking-tastic as i had envisioned it to be. some life-long therapy coupled with some crack should fix me up really well...right? right. it doesn't hurt that im constantly reminded by my funtastic friends that the reason im in JC is because i have no fucking clue as to what im going to do in the future. it is not to get a crash course in making friends or climbing the political ladder of my class. it is solely for the purpose of wrapping up my academic life. so you uncle fuckers disappointed that im not suicidal just yet? suckers...

bye

Smells like teen spirit

hi

alright today i've got complain. recently mummykins has been going on and on about the way i dress and how it somewhat resembles a beggar on the street alongside chinatown. at first it was highly amusing, as with all things when it comes to me. but its starting to encroach on my nerves. i see nothing wrong with what i wear(maybe with what i say, but never what i wear) but she obviously doesn't share my opinion. her exact words were: everything you wear looks like its from the salvation army. bitchy aren't we. her constant streams of complains about my hair, which is also becoming another pain in the rectum, is not completely unfounded but, she seems to be forgetting that my genetic makeup comes partially from her. its not fair to expect my mangy hair to perform miracles when its DNA is hard coded with her screwed up ones. what happened with promoting inner beauty and a positive self image?(okay, i don't have any but that's besides the point here anyways)

Gandhi walked around in a tunic and slippers, for crying out loud(you know...that brown guy...an eye for eye makes the whole world blind dude...yup him.) i mean that guy knew simplicity when he saw it. look how content he was. why do you think that was huh? no one looks that happy unless you're getting breeze in all the right places. you don't see his scrawny frame in a suit do you?(he would slide right out but, once again: besides the point). what? i can only walk out the house like Gandhi if i have noble cause? fucking bullshit...no one can come and fucking tell me that im not dressing smart enough! my point is that i have to treasure every single moment that i don't have to wear a pencil skirt and a straight jacket shirt. i'll do that shit when the time comes. until then back off woman!

speaking of Gandhi, just wanted to tell all you ignorant little twits that Gandhi's first name was not Mahatma. it was Mohandas. you fuckers learned something didn't you? i love the way his name's spelled: the right way. "dhi" is how you spell it in the queen's English. remember that when you spell my name sad saps. moving on from my little outburst, there's a movie based on him that was released in 1983 that chronicles most of his life till the time he was assassinated. i watched it quite some time ago and personally enjoyed it and wailed when the dude died. it was taken in a very historic view. in English. quite cool i must say. snagged the Academy Award for Best Picture. another film about him that i have yet to watch but am looking forward to nonetheless is "gandhi, my father". sounds cool eh? i bet it is. seems to be taken from a fresher perspective so they don't really have to compete or live up to its previous remakes. its apparently about the relationship that his eldest son shared with his father. its in Hindhi or some shit like that. i realise a ton of political leaders have had their fair share of haters but gandhi, that guy kept his giant nose clean(except for at the end). aaah...he may have lived forever on his rabbit diet if not for that smart arse who thought it would be good idea to kill the guy before he could do any real good. honestly...something is seriously wrong with the world. mother fucker might have had quite a fair bit to discuss with Bush.

and on that note...
toodles

good times gonna come

hello

it seems because im such a technical noob, this is the first time im blogging...i was under the impression that blogging was verbal diarrhea (loose, watery, and frequent stool), recounting every itsy bitsy detail of our long long LONG lives. i shan't change my perceptions. it is. however for one who finds himself with nothing to do on friday nights and yet still looks forward to them, blogging is much needed therapy... it gives the illusion of having a social life, an inkling of company from trekkers of cyberspace and lurkers of the internet.

here's a "brief" summary of my wonderful, exciting and colourful life:
refer to me as nandhini. i used to skip to crescent girl's school but now i wake up and drag myself to satan's butthole/anus [aka sajc(pun intended)] every morning except on days that the government's forced to give allowances on. im atheist [but hindhu during exams heh heh heh] i swear like a drunken sailor and have an EQ that of a child's, my IQ is better left unknown for fear of suicidal attempts on my part. i don't comb my hair often for fear that the comb will break. commute to school looking forward to the bus ride back.

im incredibly opiniated. in my opinion (just to prove a point) more people should speak their minds instead of giving yourself a stress induced hernia. i never get what's the big deal (even though its been explained to me dozen times). just say what you think and feel. trust me its the sort of liberation you'll never find in christianity or drugs for that matter. it makes you a guilt-free and better person. i can't guarantee any karma points or backstage pass into heaven but it will definitely give you a perverse pleasure, like going down one notch on the belt or squeezing a pus-filled pimple (not recommended by the way)

i also remind myself everyday that my charming disposition and colourful personality is merely misunderstood. helps me sleep at night and wake up the next morning. constantly have a radiohead or aqualung song ringing in my ear, it masks the other unidentifiable little voice that tells me to bomb mrt trains and slaughter my peers. i start my sentences with "i" not because im self centred(okay maybe a little, but no more than everyone else), but because i got a b3 for english so my sentence structure quota is quite limited. i take morbid pleasure in watching horror flicks and enjoy sick humour. only types of movies i watch, basically.

i think i've gone a little too far with my self description so im going to stop here. but not before i plead with you guys out there to GIVE me something to blog about.