greetings underlings of eternal hell, daddy's back. sorry for the rather abrupt and lengthy neglect to this blog. it's pretty much dead anyway, since it was never alive. hurhur..

A's were just alright, hope i can pull through. fuck. it was never any concern of mine anyway.

slacking and rotting my testicles off in town with vishnu. my base is now deeply rooted to lido macdonald's. yes the open aired area outside nike bird shop. so that i can inhale fresh air. yea right. everyday i'll be sitting there watching people go by, seeing all kinds of beautiful people, the gays, the trannies, the fat, the anorexic, the gothic pale, the blacks, the retards. and then i go to the nearest mirror and i look at myself. boy, do i fit in just right. i love myself.

went for a few interviews. this is 'cause i realised that my heavy expenditure on relatively fresh air needs adequate funding. my miserable amounts of pocket money aint enough to tide me over. so as usual im waiting for their IMMEDIATE and FUCKING SPEEDY replies, right here at the main base. feel free to join me over here, anytime at all. come, come join me here to rot, and soon find yourself imbued with the surroundings. (aka this is a place for bored fucking losers)

roger poon cheuk yu finally announced his arrival to singapore last week or so. i failed to lead assault team (my class) to strip him bare at the airport. sorry cheuk, just couldnt wake up in time. forgive me. i, will, make it up to you, real soon. fret not.


i think zouk is fucking boring. maybe it's just the innate sore loser mentality since i could never master the mambo moves. "clubbing is too sleazy for me" (quoted from a random someone). ill really prefer sitting down at a pub, grabbing a magnum full of hoegaarden, and caring about nothing other than the soccer scoreline and downing the beer. beer is an acquired taste, not for the likes of the plain janes. to clear a fact: clubbing is never a place to socialise. it is a place where guys want to pick up girls and girls act drunk to get picked up. it's a ritual of mutual consent. a rather standard procedure. this, coming out from a tamilan.

fell in love with a song, by seether - driven under. i heard the new album by seether, called disclaimer. it's fucking excellent. i dint really get impressed by them last year when i first heard gasoline and fine again. it was then that i did not truly appreciate the songs. dumb me. chanced upon it recently and i decided to concentrate on the lyrics' worth. turned out to be a masterpiece actually. it's a marvel that such heavy music can protray such sorrow. simple words were deployed, feelings evoked nonetheless.


i am aware that everything's gonna be fine, one day too late, just as well.

the usual suspects were here at
8:11 PM