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YMonday, March 10, 2008
Back.
I've been neglecting this place for far too long. Exams, stress, etc etc. Typical excuses. Moving along.
I got a D for my A Level H1 Chinese exam. I am deliriously happy. Never again will I have to attend Chinese lessons. No longer will I be faced with 1hr20mins periods of boredom. Nor will I have to endure where I feel like a moron, having to guess the meaning of words based on the things that are used to write it. Extra breaks, during which I will do nothing productive, beckon! They call to me, like the desert to the rain. I await my opportunity to bask in the warmth of their blissfulness. Ecstasy is now. Alright! Woohoo yay awesome.
On the day we received our results, I felt like a bit of an idiot to be honest. All around me were people who were sobbing, with tears streaming down their faces, because they had failed to achieve an A grade. And there I was, smiling to myself, wanting to jump about, after I had gotten a not-really-that-good result. Yet I am satisfied, because I know the limit of my abilities, and there is no chance I could get an A.
But on the other hand, there were people who had obtained an S grade, which really can't be considered a pass at all, and they were far more happy than me.
Different level of expectations I guess.
YSunday, February 3, 2008
Shamelss Self-Promotion
This applies only to students currently studying in ACJC. The rest of you can ignore this post.
You know, recently all the classes have been selling all sorts of fantastical goodies as a part of their fun-o-rama fund raising efforts. I've sampled many of their delicious and very exotic foods. I've experienced the refreshing fruitiness of frozen yogurt, tasted the donuts imported from Malaysia, and even enjoyed the taste of authetic Sweet Talk bubble tea.
They were all very good.
But I crave something else. I want classic. I want simple. I want delicious. I want the foods you ate as a kid. The kind you eat with your hands, and messily so. Forks and spoons are terribly overrated.
That's why 2SB3 is selling homemade cookies, cupcakes, jelly, and hot/cold chocolate tomorrow. Satisfy those cravings. You know what you want.
Only for tomorrow and tuesday.
YThursday, December 27, 2007
A Show Of Gratitude
Thanks Selena for your gay pink sparkly Christmas card.
It arrived two days late. Either that or it arrived 363 days early. Or is that 364? Leap Year.
Oh, you have a weird signature.
YSunday, November 11, 2007
A Request
It is not often that I ask favours of people, but this is one of those times. I guess I just don't enjoy the feeling of being indebted to someone else.
However, you may find that you would actually enjoy performing this favour for me.
After looking at some photos of myself that were taken recently, I have noticed that I have really terrible posture. I slouch like an 80 year old man. I need to change this.
So the favour is simple. If you ever see me in person, and you notice that I'm slouching, give me a light smack on the back and a friendly remark to inform me, so that I may correct myself.
When I say a "light smack", I do not mean "a kick to the butt" or "a resounding slap on the back" or even "a punch to the face". Doing so may result in me writhing in pain, or if the attack wasn't severe enough, angry retaliation.
Thank you.
By the way, I'm completely serious.
YFriday, October 26, 2007
And So, The Year Draws To A Close...
Today was the last day of school.
As I reminisce, experiencing the nostalgia wash over me, I remember. It was a year of new beginnings. Unfamiliar faces, foreign surroundings, a chance the start over. It was a pretty good year for me. Now it's time for me to take a break. Enjoy the holidays, savour the moments, relax a little.
I won't be back in school for quite a while. I'm gonna miss this place. In fact, come to think of it, the next time I will be back in school will be... in 3 days time. Taking an exam.
I don't think Singaporeans fully comprehend the meaning of the word "holiday".
YSunday, July 29, 2007
Just... Leave Me Be...
What is this feeling that has overcome me? I feel tired, without the slightest flicker of hope. Life seems pointless. An overwhelming lethargy has blanketed my soul. I have no desire to pursue what I once sought. Nothing would gladden me more than to just lie here, in the dark stillness, letting my body waste away. As these emotions envelopes me, I wonder.
What could possibly have brought this upon me? Was it the hauntings of my regrets? The sad remembrance of previous mistakes? The Or was it... No. It couldn't be.
I had vowed, that I would never allow myself to suffer such a fate. I had fought all my life to resist it. My sweat, my toil, was it all for naught? As I lay here, I shed a single tear for what I've become. Perhaps, this was how it was meant to be. I laughed, a sad, quite laugh. What an ironic twist of fate. Soon, I would become em...
Wait a minute. Now I know what this feeling is. It's hunger. Idiot.
So, I had a sandwich. All is well.
YFriday, July 13, 2007
Them and N'US
They tell you to cast away your dreams. Scoffing at you, they proclaim them to be the stuff of madmen, the fantasies of a child's mind, unrealistic, unattainable, unfortunate.
We do that too.
They inculcate in you a deep loathing for formal education, through their uncreative teaching techniques, and own lack of interest in their material.
We do that too.
They remind you of your shortcomings, by constantly surrounding you with people better than you in every conceivable way, just for the fun of it.
We do that too.
So what's the difference between them N'US?
They know how to use proper English.
NUS, offering you the best of mediocre education since a long time ago.
YMonday, July 2, 2007
Swimming Labels: Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff, Thought Of The Day
Sometimes I ponder about meaningless things.
Case in point: Swimming
I used to enjoy swimming. I don't anymore. Because I did something stupid. I sat down, and I thunk. (I didn't even know this was a proper word. Other than being a form of "think", it is also, and I quote, "an abrupt, dull sound". I didn't know sound effects were considered to be actual words in the English language. Fascinating. If that's the case, then shouldn't things like "Zish" and "Piang" and "KabooOOooOOoom!" be considered words in the English language as well?) Anyway, I thunk hard, like really super hard. I had just went swimming, and after a few minutes, I just realised that swimming is the most disgusting physical activity that one can partake in.
Sorry if I'm gonna ruin swimming for you.
Human beings are living creatures. Therefore to survive, we must respire. Dissolved oxygen can be found in abundance in water, but since we are not fish, we cannot obtain it. As such, to breathe while swimming, we must come to the surface, and open our mouth to suck in air. Therein lies to problem. No matter how meticulous we try to be, when we breathe while swimming, some water will go in our mouths, and some will go out. So, to put it simply, when you go swimming, you are swimming in the saliva of 500 people. When you breathe in while swimming, you are swallowing 500 peoples' saliva.
While swimming, every single part of a person's body is in contact with the water. So basically, while swimming, your body is being exposed to water that has been tainted with the unholy touch of other people's feet, noses, armpits, and other body parts. I do not wish to go into further detail.
Finally, kids use swimming pools. Kids are stupid. They do stupid things. Sometimes I wonder what it is that clouds their judgment. I doubt it is their intention, but they do horrendous things. Kids piss in the pool. Seriously. I know of people, who shall remain unnamed, that have done so. They did it because "the toilet was far". However, this desecration of public facilities is not a one-time event, it is an ongoing affair. Therefore, whenever I see kids from Fairfield Methodist Primary School splashing around in ACJC's pool, I cringe.
So the next time, on a hot July's day, when the sun is beating ferociously on your backs, and you think longing of the cool water lapping against the side of the pool, it's crystal clear surface beckoning you to dive right in, recall what I've said. Try not to gag.
YFriday, April 6, 2007
Desperation Labels: Random Stupidity, Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff
Sweet merciful God. Look what Wayne has brought upon me.
He's forced me to do this.
These are the rules: Each player of this game starts out by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog!
I'm losing the will to live.
It pains me to think how far I've fallen. Is this a bottomless pit into which I've been thrust unwillingly, doomed to forever sink lower and lower into the depths of mediocrity, and eventually, into that which is (gasp!) below average?!
Anyway, I am certain that sometime in the past I foolishly stated that I would post updates every Thursday and Sunday. That was, on hindsight, a terrible mistake. First of all, I am not an everlasting fountain gushing forth with fantastical thoughts and ingenious ideas. I cannot come up with new material on a constant basis. I do suffer from mental blocks occasionally. Secondly, I am prone to have the occasional bout of tiredness or fatigue. Sometimes there's homework to be done. Other times, movies need to be watched. Everything has their own personal needs. I can't let those go unnoticed.
So, from now on, I'll update whenever I want to.
To be honest, this game that Wayne has dragged me into was a godsend. At least now I don't have to come up with anything else to write about for the next few days. Thank you Wayne, this pointless exercise that you have bestowed upon me. You have my gratefulness.
Now, without more time wasting, I present to you,
The 6 Weird Things About Me.
1. I don't tell lies.
2. I spend too much money on headphones. (way too much)
3. I am in a sports-based CCA, but I don't particularly enjoy physical activities.
4. I have no PSLE certificate.
5. I read TIME magazine. From back to front. Every Issue.
6. I am an SJI boy.
So there you have it. It was quite a struggle to come up with all that. I guess I'm pretty normal. Or am I? Perhaps normal people think of themselves as being unique or special, so the belief that I am normal is a deviation from normalcy. Now I'm supposed to tell get 6 other friends to play this inane game, but I'm not going to do that. Why? Because I want to be special.
Take that, Wayne Teo.
YSunday, March 25, 2007
Tears Of Joyful Exuberance and Sad Remembrance Labels: Random Stupidity, Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff
Oh dear me. It appears my descent into the common and uninspiring has not reached it's climax yet. Previously I gave you a recount of my day, which I must admit, even shocked myself. Yet today, I sink even lower. Will this never end? The next time you see me, I may even write for "Today" or (let it not be so!) The New Paper.
So today, I bring to you yet even more inconsequential (but hopefully) interesting tripe.
With that tone, let's begin today's memorial service.
I forgot to mention, today's post marks another milestone for me. (Yes, I appear to have many milestones.) Anyway, it's the first time I'm going to show pictures that I've taken myself. Not those taken off the internet. Please excuse the grainy images and untrained photography.
(Notice the extremely classy and expensive Oakley pouch.)
Today, we are gathered across cyberspace, in a memorial for our dear sweet friend, whom has been an important part of my life, for several years. We are here for you, Sony Ericsson T630.
Cliche as it may be, it seemed like only yesterday when we first met. Me, a mere child, innocent and curious, who had yet to explore the world and understand the truths of the universe. You,
were sent to me, like an angel, at first we were strangers, and since then, we've spent many days constantly by each other's side.
When you were first presented to me, I thought nothing of you. I was brash, and self-assured. I could do everything on my own. I didn't need the help of anyone. In my mind, the world was my oyster. But it was you, your wisdom and your quiet reserve showed me I was utterly wrong. You were the window into my soul. I could see that I had much to learn, and that I would need help along the way, in my journey of life.
As the days trickled past, like a meandering stream through a green meadow under a cloudless brilliant blue sky, you helped me immensely. You showed me the importance of keeping in touch with valued friends. You kept me entertained in times of boredom, with your wide array of games. You were the one that camwhored with me, when no one was willing to do so, condemning me "freak".
However, as the days wore on, like the passage of time, through the seasons of Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, you reached the winter years of your life as well. You bore many scars across your body, the etchings of wind and weather. And some were, I ashamed to say, the effects of my carelessness, as well as my wrongdoings. Yet you wore your scars with pride, as if they made your life more worth living. The scratches on your face, the worn and faded markings of your family name, the pockmarked surfaces of your body. To you, they were meant to be showed off, reminders of the challenges of life.
Yet, even you couldn't withstand the ravages of time. Your arm became weak and unresponsive, your stamina low, your hearing a fraction of what it used to be. When you no longer responded to my touch, I knew that your time was almost at an end. I didn't want to let you go, but I knew it was for the best, and was the better alternative, as compared to watching your body waste away even further, turning you into a shadow of your once proud self.
Farewell, my dear T630, your life has enriched mine beyond compare, my memories of you will remain forever, in the sweet remembrance of our friendship.
Farewell.
T630, perhaps the greatest gift to me, is the constant reminder of you, through the image of your son, K610im.
The resemblance is uncanny. And he's just like you, follows all your patterns, responds the same way that you do, the only difference is the energy that comes with youth. He is most definitely your son. I look forward to telling him grand stories of our exploits.
Parting can be such sweet sorrow. The wounds will probably never heal, but yet, there is hope. The hope of a better future, and that hope lies, simply, in the children of the world.
YTuesday, March 20, 2007
A Voyage Into Familiar Territory (Part Two) Labels: Random Stupidity, Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff
I continue my cookie-cutter post describing my life. However, I'm the mold of my cookie-cutter is somewhat unique. I'm writing about what happened on a Friday. Today is a Tuesday. Chances are, I may have forgotten what happened and just make something up. You wouldn't know the difference anyway. I also happen to have a point at the end of this post. Really.
So anyway, after my OG Outing, I went to play pool with my secondary 4 classmates. When I got to the pool hall, I was greeted with a sight to behold. We had 4 tables, and about 15 people came. Our most successful class outing was held only after we had disbanded. It was interesting to meet up with them after they had adjusted to JC life, and seeing how they had changed, and remained the same. Sean Poh, with his chemically enhanced bosom that could rival even the most well endowed female. His chest seemed to be even bigger than before (if that's possible), no doubt due to his strict regime of workouts, and diet of pure protein. Jared Dass, whose massive ego made him self-delusional, seemed to have an even higher opinion of himself. He told me that he got into RJC through "Sex Appeal" as well as "Handsomeness". Zachary Tay, whom I've sparred with previously in many a lightsabre fight, and had too many conversations with regarding Pokemon, seemed to have lost some of the essence (lameness) of that made him Zachary. However, I believe this is just a temporary lull in his Force Powers, and he will make a quick recovery to power and awesomeness. From what I hear, he's also quite the lady's man in NJC.
What can I say, I've got interesting friends. Oh yea. Albert, Zac, and Sean Poh. You guys owe me money. $5.
So anyway, pool was fun and full of nostalgia. It turned out I wasn't as bad as I thought. Or maybe it's just that my friends suck more than me. What happened next surprised me. I was also supposed to meet a group of Sec2 classmates on the very same day as well. I hadn't planned on actually doing it, but they appeared at the same pool hall that day. The events that next transpired can actually be found on Javier's blog. So if you're interested, go visit his blog and make him feel happy by increasing the counter. It will make him all warm inside.
Don't you dare accuse me of being lazy. He did a satisfactory job, with even photos and videos, so why should I bother to repeat the same things he said? This is called 'Making Good Use Of Your Friends". Come back when you're done. So once the event in Javier's blog unfolded, it was already far too late for me to go home. And I couldn't bear to part with the money required to take a taxi. So I had only one choice left. Stay at my friend's house. He lives in Orchard. Rich kid.
At his house, considering the fact that we were SJI boys, you know what we did. We did gay things. Because we're all gay. Every single one. I can't stress this enough. Because it's true. Go tell all your friends.
I woke up the next morning, finding the friend whom actually lived at the house curled up on the floor, clutching a blanket with shivering fingers, his face close to someone's pair of dirty socks, and myself sharing a bed with one of my friends. It was astounding that both of us could fit on a single bed. I'm round, and he's like 8 feet tall. We can, apparently, bend the laws of physics. One of our secret SJI techniques, I suppose.
I left the company of my friends only in the afternoon.
Friends are an important part of my life. They are an important part of everyone's life. We laugh, we cry, we smile. We enjoy each other's company. We cheer each other on in times of hardship and struggles. We shed tears for each other's losses and downfalls. However, you can't expect to be best friends with everyone. It takes time to develop the bond between friends. Intimacy takes time. I've known my Sec2 classmates for slightly over 4 years, Sec4 classmates for slightly over 2, and OG friends for only a few months. I'm sure you can guess which people I'm closest to in general. There's nothing wrong with any of my friends. They are all good people, with their own quirks that make them special. I'm thankful for all of them.
There are friends with whom you have to organize outings and less than half of them turn up, then there are friends with whom you can just walk up to without saying "hi" or giving any sort of acknowledgment, and just get on with things. Finally, there are friends with whom you can sit with chatting till the buses are no longer running, stay overnight together having no prior arrangements, and share a bed without any awkwardness or hesitation.
YSaturday, March 17, 2007
A Voyage Into Familiar Territory. (Part One) Labels: Random Stupidity, Spontaneously Spouting Silly Stuff
Today marks a milestone in my "career" as a writer. No, I haven't signed any contracts, neither have I sold my soul to corporate investors, nor have I shouted out to the whole world my shallowness and materialism by publicly gloating that I received a free nose job.
I'm not that stupid.
Anyway, I vaguely remember in the past I stated that I wouldn't, to a large extent, talk about my life, because I'm boring. But today is different. I must talk about how I spent Friday 16th March 2007. I simply must. It was exceptional. It was astounding. It was spectacular. Hearing about it will change your life.
Please don't be angry if today's post sucks. I just hate being criticized. I hate it so bad. It makes me hurt inside.
Anyway, I had training in the morning. It started at 830. I reached school at 900. Training was pretty uneventful, except for two things. The first thing was that I learned how to spin and throw the discus. Like the way the pros do it at the Olympics. Except without the obscene shouting and groaning and other noises. And without the distance. It's quite difficult. (I guess I'll talk about this another time. I realize I'm quite long winded.) The second interesting that happened was that we had a "Throwers' Meeting". Our coach is from China, and hence he can only converse fluently in his first language. Unfortunately, his first language isn't my first language. You see, SJI and AC have made me into a person who loves English with an undying and everlasting passion.
I'm the type of person who goes: "HuaYuCool? What does FlowerFishCool mean? Are you high?"
Hence, with my pathetic inability to communicate in my native tongue, combined with the coach's thick Chinese accent, I was rendered utterly clueless. But I do know he wasn't happy. I can see people's faces. I can interpret people's expressions. Later I found out from (I swear this is true. I don't make the stereotypes. I just see them.) my friend who was from RV, that he wasn't scolding us, and that he didn't say anything that we couldn't observe on our own, or didn't already find out for ourselves.
After training, I rushed to Vivocity for my OG outing. It was interesting, to say the least. When I first arrived, there were 5 people, including me. Four of them were girls. I was not. Am not. Will not be. I had to admit, it was somewhat awkward. They would girltalk, I would walk a few paces behind. Trying hard to think about something else. Anything else. They negotiated about where we would have lunch. I stared into space impassively. Contrary to Javier's belief, I'm not fussy.
Fortunately, a guy soon came. Unfortunately, that guy was Elson. For those of you who don't know Elson, he's the stickman in ACJC. He's from SJI as well. So he's weird. And gay. We all are. Because you see, SJI injects every new boy with their special SJI serum. (Don't tell anyone. It's classified information.) It makes us weird. And gay. This is all in our plan for world dominations. We shall be the founding fathers of a magnificent new society. We will topple the oppressive tyrants who dare proclaim themselves defenders of democracy. Onward! For Glory! SJI! SJI! SJI!
It was a sight to behold. Two boys. One was bony and angular, the other, fleshy and curvy.
After that, I'm horrified to admit, we went shopping. It was a harrowing ordeal. 2 guys, following 6 girls around a shopping mall. I did learn several things though. Girls are weird. Some like to hang M&Ms on their ears. Others prefer to have mismatched biscuits dangling from their earlobes, completely unaware of the danger of hungry hobos just running up to them and biting their ears in a desperate quest for stray morsels of food. Some like to wear shoes with belts on them. Don't ask me why. Then there are those who, in their desire to look good, have taken to slaughtering countless mermaids and mermen, for their shiny and reflective scales, to make shoes stained with blood. The blood of fictitious mythical creatures.
I didn't know this, but guys and girls shop differently. For a guy, like a normal guy, not Javier, he will go shopping when he needs to. He goes into a shop, sees something he likes, tries it on, and pays money for it. Simple as that. There are certain variations, including buying things without trying them on, (I'm guilty) or maybe even heading straight for the discount racks.
Girls on the other hand, shop for fun. I cannot comprehend that. They walk around, rifle through the hangers, touch everything, feel the materials, look at the price tag, make comments, and then, walk out.
To stave off the fast approaching insanity that would engulf our minds and turn us into zucchinis, Elson and I came up with ingenious idea. In order to keep the retard sickness at bay, we would act like retards so the retard molecules would think we were already retards and not try and inject us with their retard seedlings which would spawn and multiply and make us into retard drones that are retarded.
Ya. We doed that.
Polka dotted dressed were just old and moldy. Tops became dresses for really short girls. Dresses became singlets for really tall girls, and they needed to be tucked in. Purses turned into pencil cases. Skirts transformed into curtains. And necklaces and bracelets were candy.
Though it may seem unlikely at this time, I do have a point. However, that is for the second part of this post. I remember someone said my posts were too long. This is my solution to it. Cut the essay into half.
YThursday, March 1, 2007
ACS Founder's Day and The Straits Times
Two seemingly unrelated topics.
Yet, an exhilarating tale involving these two intertwined entities is about to unfold before your very eyes!
Not really. It's just that I have two topics today.
First of all, Founder's Day. It is an unspoken rule that These sort of events are meant to be borings. (Might I add, ACJC demonstrated its excellence in this discipline.) They aren't meant to be fun or interesting. They are mere formalities. Nobody wants to be there. Nobody. Not the Principal Kelvyna Chan. Not the ACS OBA GUY. (I wonder. Assuming that OBA stands for Old Boy's Association, then what do the girls join? SJI also had an OBA, but they did not have this problem.) Not even the Guest-of-Honour, Dr. Vivian Balamynameiswaytoolong. Minister of Something-Or-Other, and Second Minister Of Something-Else-Or-Other.
Founder's Day is, in a word, demoralizing. It serves the sole purpose of making me feel like a failure. The image of people much better than me in any conceivable way is branded onto my retinas, charred reminders of my inadequacies. People with 9 distinctions for A levels. People who's lives were spent doing noble, thankless work. Ministers who earn much more money than I ever will. I, however, can find solace in one fact. Many of these overachieves will die alone. Really. They will be surrounded by immeasurable wealth, fancy cars, luxurious mansions, diamond-studded watches. But they will still die alone. Nobody wants to be with someone who is so damn good.
How do I know no one enjoys things like Founder's Day? For one thing, quite a large percentage of the college population was nowhere to be seen today. On the way to school today, while past the entrance of the school,I heard a snippet of a girl's conversation with a friend on her cellphone. It went something like this.
"Let's skip Founder's Day."
I could only hear one side of the conversation.
Said girl then proceeded to walk back out of the gate, embracing the freedom and reveling in the joy known as not going to school. What puzzles me is why said girl decided to wake up early in the morning at 6 a.m, put on the school uniform, travel from home to school, and only after all that's said and done, decide not to go to school.
Perhaps you are wondering now, why is it that with my visible dislike of Founder's Day, that I decided to go to school on this day. I have a very good reason. After Founder's Day, I had to be at a meeting in school. Of course, the meeting only lasted about five minutes.
However, I did learn a lesson from this ordeal.
Next year I'm going to fall ill on the 1st of March.
The Straits Times.
Indulge me, once again, if you will. Take today's copy of The Straits Times. Flip to page 3. Look at the article. Laugh.
It appears that The Straits Times is full of comedians. The article states that ST has won several prestigious awards for their newspaper. After having gained your respect, they then proceed to lose all of it when you go on to read and find out that the awards were given by Singapore Press Holdings. For those of you who don't know, SPH prints the ST.
SPH giving the ST an award is like having me say: This year's prestigious Tan Deyong Foundation award for best Tan Deyong goes to... Tan Deyong!
Utter nonsense.
However, fret not, for the other SPH papers also won awards. New Paper, Chinese Morning Paper, Chinese Evening Paper, Tamil Paper, and Malay Paper. They all got something.
So, it's all good.
YThursday, February 15, 2007
My Deepest Apologies
I know that I normally post updates on Thursdays and Sundays. I also know that there was no post on Sunday, and there wasn't the slightest hint of apology or explanation to be found. As such, I'm sure that many of you are suffering from a bout of severe depression, with rusty razor blades clutched in your shivering hands, as you didn't get the chance to interact with me, or bask in the glory that is my presence. I am the sole reason for your otherwise pointless existence.
Bullshit.
Anyway, I have a really good reason for missing an update. The past week was really busy for me. I had projects, homework, CCA trainings, CCA meetings, events, and many other exciting and wonderful events. Okay, I have to admit, that's a complete and utter lie.
Why do I like to lie? Because I'm a liar.
So, I didn't post anything because I was really lazy. I pretty much spent my weekend doing absolutely nothing. I slacked. Stoned. Stood stupefied. Sorry. It's quite likely that I'm one of the few people on this planet that write about nothing, and takes an inappropriately large amount of time to do so. Oh well, hooray for my uniqueness.
Oh, this may or may not interest you, but I'm now officially in the ACJC Editorial Board. If you don't understand what that means, it means I'm in the yearbook committee. So if happen to flip open this coming year's ACJC College Annual, and just so happen to notice my face splashed across the front cover, with numerous other self-portraits on every other page, you would know why. Narcissism!
For those of you who don't know, or still don't believe me, I really am in Track & Field. Really. I have nothing to gain by telling such a far-fetched story. Don't give me that incredulous stare. It's true. It really is. I'm a 100m sprinter, as well as a high jumper.
I honestly have no idea what I'm trying to express today. I promise that this weekend, I'll post an update.
Don't forget that I lie, the reason being that I'm a liar.
Oh, though this may seem completely out of place, Happy (belated) Valentine's Day.
YThursday, February 8, 2007
Deprivation!
I'm feeling quite lazy. So, I'm going to plagiarize the work of others!
Here's today's post. I cannot claim credit for it. To be honest, even if I could, I wouldn't want to. I don't to be ostracized or shunned for my incredible nerd and geek qualities. I want a normal social life. I don't want to be pointed at. For someone to have thought of such a joke, wow, they must suffer from major issues, or even have had traumatic experiences or perhaps a deprived childhood.
Here it is.
It is Friday evening and f(x) = x decided to throw a party for his brethren functions. Within the hour, the room was filled. f(x) = x + 1 was chatting up the curvaceous f(x) = sin x in a corner while f(x) = 1/x and f(x) = 1/x2 entered a drinking contest with near-infinite amounts of beer, ignoring the concerned comments that their limits were zero; they were soon carted off to a hospital. However, in this vivacious and chaotic atmosphere f(x) = x saw f(x) = e^x alone in a corner, differentiating himself from the crowd. Slightly tipsy, f(x) = x stumbled over to his friend and asked:
"Hey you, why don't you integrate yourself with the crowd?"
f(x) = e^x threw a dark glare at f(x) = x and then sighed.
"You know it won't make any difference."
Sad as it may be, I laughed at that joke. Out loud, as in "hahaha", not silently in my mind. When I read it for the second time, I laughed. Again.
I cried myself to sleep.
Anyway, if you didn't get that joke, I have another one for you. Don't worry, you don't have to think much. I claim to have came up with it, but apparently so do many others. Oh well.
Here it is:
What did the 0 say to the 8?
Nice belt!
Yay. Alright. Tomorrow's quite a big day for many of you. I would wish all of you a hearty "Good Luck!", but your grades were decided a long time ago. Sincere as my well-wishes may be, they still won't have any effect on the outcome.
Oh yea, and I'm supposed to do really badly for my O Levels since Javier sent me a chain-SMS that was meant to bless me with wonderful luck, but since I didn't want to waste $0.50 sending it to 10 other people, I am cursed for all eternity. Woe is me.
If you see me sweeping roads two days from now, you'll know the reason.
YThursday, February 1, 2007
Pointless Panicking Puts People in Potentially Precarious Positions.
Sorry, couldn't help myself.
Good news, Emo Deyong has been banished to some far away dimension in some deep dark corner of my consciousness. He materialized for a brief stay, but don't worry, I'm back.
Anyway, the big news, as of now, and for those who are around 16 years old, is that the O Level results are coming out soon. So yeah. Yay. However, to my surprise and puzzlement, I found out from a fair number (okay, all) of my friends that they were feeling nervous about the upcoming results. I was stunned, stupefied, shocked, and staggered by this revelation. I hear stories of sleepless nights, nail biting, fidgeting, whining, and other general displays of anxiousness. I even had vivid descriptions of dreams involving getting 13 points and crying.
No, I am not going to brag about how easy the exams were(they weren't), or how I'm going to ace them(I won't). I am not an egoistical and self-important mofo. I just know, that if I were to act in that manner, God, in the name of comedy, irony, righteousness, and all that is good and holy, would give me a L1B5 score of 108. So, I'm not gonna jinx anything. I'm keeping quiet.
Now that I look back, I seem to recall a large number of people whom, at times right after certain examination papers, who walk out of the hall exclaiming in loud, clear voices, how easy the paper was, and how an A1 was guaranteed. These people proceeded to strut and swagger around at the canteen, relaxing, while people like me mugged desperately at the last minute.
What I'm trying to say is that, there is absolutely no point in worrying about these sort of things. The situation is beyond your control. Worrying won't make your grades go higher. It won't make you get 6 points. It won't make you go into RJC. It's better to worry about these sort of things when the situation is actually in your control, meaning, before you take your exams. This way, you can study your ass off, and actually get better grades.
Nothing positive can come out off worrying. Allow me to present two situation. Best-case scenario, you get 6 points, meaning you worried for nothing, and feel stupid afterwards. Worst-case scenario, you get 54 points, you cry, suffer from depression. You beat yourself up over how you slacked and played DOTA everyday instead of learning about photosynthesis. You realize, though its too late, that you should have worked harder, rather than complain and bitch about it after its over.
Actually, to be honest, I feel that O Levels are quite pointless. They are just a stepping stone to the next level. The O Levels are meant to lead on to greater things, whether they be university degrees, polytechnic diplomas, or what have you. So basically, you study hard at secondary school, so that you can advance to the next level. No one in the real world cares whether you got an A1 for Chemistry when you were 16. Two weeks after you receive your results, you will toss that forgotten laminated piece of paper in some damp dusty corner of your house.
So basically, don't worry about your exams.
Oh yeah, I realized that I said before that I would post "mini-updates" on Thursdays.
You must understand, that my interpretation of "mini" may be completely different from yours.
YThursday, January 25, 2007
#2. Ancient History
Okay. I admit it. I'm an attention whore. I need to be the main attraction. I crave the adoration of screaming fans and the hysterical cheers of overly enthusiastic supporters. That's why it is such a torturous feeling, not knowing how many people read my blog. I need to know whether 5 or 500 people pay attention to me. I would rather than know the cold hard truth than fill my mind with delusions of grandeur.
So, read my blog. Cause my counter to count. Make me feel warm and happy inside.
Anyway, here's today's completely and utterly pointless piece of trivia.
Native Americans aren't actually native to their land. If you take a look at any world map, you would realize that Europe, Africa, Asia, and even Australia are somewhat interconnected. (You could island hop from say, Indonesia to Australia.) So, if a primitive caveman was feeling rather bored, he could, theoretically, walk from France to China. So, my point is, there wasn't any real means for which caveman could go to the Americas.
There weren't exactly many Trans-Atlantic ships about 20,000 years ago. Neither was there an over-abundance of airplanes back then. So the Americas were unpopulated by humans. Then, came the ice age hit. So everything became really cold. The coldness made water turn to ice, so many of the world's water bodies froze. The Bering Strait was one such feature that froze. The Bering Strait is basically a narrow body of water that links two land masses. It connects the easternmost point of Asia to the westernmost of America. So with the Bering Strait frozen, it had essentially created a massive ice bridge from Asia to America. Alright! So, some really really REALLY bored primitive men and women decided they had nothing better to do that to walk across the Bering Strait in freezing cold weather with nothing but dead animal skins to protect themselves. Hence, the first Native Americans came to be.
This may come as a shock, but I actually have a point in this post. You know how Chinese people (alright, basically all Asian people in general) have this thing where they like to migrate to other countries in search of better living conditions? Asian people are EVERYWHERE! So, what I'm trying to say is, this tendency could have been passed down through thousands of years from the cavemen, who were our ancestors. Maybe the primitive caveman was being badly treated, maybe he was always hungry, or he didn't have anyone to pleasure him. As a result, he decided to run away to a new land were food scarcity was not an issue, a place where he could have many sex partners.
Don't believe me? Have you seen any Native Americans recently? Don't they look Asian to you?
Did I just blow your mind?
YThursday, January 18, 2007
#1
Now that I've begun school once again, I once again have little free time. As a result, this blog, which was created during the holidays to do away with my boredom won't be updated quite as often. So I've decided, henceforth, to begin posting mini updates, such as this, possibly every Thursday. They will contain anything, thoughts, facts, jokes. Basically anything that I won't be able to develop into a 900 word essay, story or rant. I won't bother posting updates on my MSN Messenger, because I don't consider it an update if it takes 2 minutes to read.
So, without further ado.
In the years leading to World War II, Nazi Germany was planning to seek revenge on the Allied Nations. Being the mature, responsible, level-headed Nazis they were, they decided the way to do that was to beat the crap out of the Allied forces. To do that, they needed to increase the size of their army. As a result, the Nazi's decided to start training boys from a really young age to become soldiers in the future, which they decided to do by creating an organization where boys get to do manly stuff. In other words, NCC for Aryans.
The name of the organization was Pimpf.