missin in action.. its been aeons

current songs listening to:


Ice Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice


Some Chinese Song That I Find Annoyingly Addictive - Foo Jie Sheng and the Choir.

(word: a real nong post.. this post is really nong. would like take a nong time to read this nong post)
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carifornia ruuuuuuurve..
woahh.. sex potion.. somekinda aphrodisiac. omgosh im talkin about Magnolia's Oat milk. oat milk geddit? its the mr kennedy drink.. oat milk from fresh milk, lo-fat, hi-cal, hilarious, magnolia... from fresh milk.. yall should try it out. from fresh milk.. it kinda gives u this drive to like do it. which is a real appropriate reason why im blogging now.
kickin/


So recently, was like i let all of you down like real down, and ive been recieving hate mails from peoples demanding tat i should post a new entry since now its been a month. or weeks or whatever. as if i owe you fuckers something. alot of shit happened i tell ya. and also shit, how can i start my shit.. photologs and school tributary and shit like tat. erm, kinda depends on what kind of mood i feel like tellin. dun worry, miscellany not included. like totally filtered.. worthwhile of your time and mine.

Well here i am, nothing much in particular to say except that i was studying for my exam for a fucking MONTH. Thirty days. i studied, mugged, crammed, got my eyes fixed on notes and my two hands are getting real sick with contact with paper, woke up late, slept even later, insomnia, panda, shat rock-hard turds, bloody mucus runs down my nose every morning, i sniffed more freuently than Kim Kok lisped, gained weight faster than Renee Zellweger, at times, loses more weight than Mary-Kate Olsen. It was a god-damned blast.



the highlight with the exams, however, was that it took a whole life out of me.. like a soulsucker.
brings the laughter in manslaughter... the FUN in funeral.
well i find that its kinda dumb if you discuss and comment about your questions and answers to ur friends after taking the papers.. weeping and knocking urself out of damnit-ness after knowing the right answer was actually wrong after comparing with ur frens.. done is fuckin done. its like as if its gonna change a thing. technically no fuckin way your gonna have a change of mark by doing so.

and i got a bet with my good dude friend (recently he got a new blog) that they are gonna keep it on like this and never gonna change the topic(exam) till we reached Esso as we walked out of school.
i won the bet, bought our food and stuffus and whatnot, yap yap yap. same topic. same subject.
extend the bet to the bank, still they yap, bet won. to the traffic intersection, bet won. to KK, bet won. the bets was totally pointless.. gay ppls

the view and texture of paper. black fonts. fulscap paper. 2B pencils. highlighter. calculator. notes. textbook. dear God help me..
i think a milder but near-perfect description of the study and exam experience was like having all of the exam papers, textbooks, worksheets, fys'es, tys'es and all tat, each rolled up into a long shaft and then shoved up straight in the ass. real hard. prolonged. one after another. torrents of upcoming papers. then comes your stationeries turn. yup, it was THAT ANAL...

lucky thing tat DnT paper up-and-coming next week and we are given a week to like "recuperate" from the papers cos everyone knows that weekends is never enough.. like the point of potential energy in the stress pendulum. if not the whole experience would like be more of a rectal annabelle chong..


well, bottomline: 'O' levels is unhealthy..

so lets see my class before the start of the exam. a pre-war look at the o levels.
here, the perks. all class sessions in AVA theatrette.


everyone studying their asses off.


its real cold.. the AC temperature of the room.. fur coats are like required. jackets are shit and useless. .

engulfing aura of wafting silence in the class. everyones doing their work. which like never happened before.

then comes the marshmallow man from Ghostbuster The Movie.

and then:
the dude side. all busy studying. another great pictorial proof that the place was more than a conducive study environment






then out of no fucking where:





its not what you see. shes not teaching. shes like elbowing jie sheng, pinning down his head to the table...






but if u look close enough, u can see jun xian's boner.



"punctual" 9.30am on a normal school day. yet still a quite decent timing of arrival.. oh yea, i was loitering around the school when i took this pic. "study break" and im like at the HOD. a hornet nest. braincentre for disciplinary punishment. hairy monster isnt around.. no worries. oh yea, if you happen to read this, HI!.


a moment of absolute concentration with work on hand.. u can strongly feel the intense focus shes havin jus by looking at it.


The 5A version of being productive.



i slapped him so hard, my sony camera's hi-speed tolerance frame capture cant handle that much of a swipe. the scary words from previously(and unfortunately many) slapped by me:
slice like a ninja, cut like a razorblade.

yep, and they were just referring to my fingers only.


scenic utopian view of our once pleasure and torture chambers.


was once used to be little kids studies on the first level of that block. the cooler kids is above that and then move on to another block. then coolest kids line up where the pic is currently standing on. the cooler you are, the higher your rooms. and coolest gets the lowest.
but since the big SYED arrival, he ruled that shit out with his legislation of the home room system, everything change.


or whatever tat is.




candid shots happened to take gayest stance of me caught on camera.

christopher and assile

this class was like the coolest room ever.. so as the teacher too.. but ironically not my grades...


she looks pimpin' jus like always.

above and beyond landscape. heard tat ACS is like gonna make a chapel here.

silence in our near vacant canteen.

yeah, word.
undeserving winner house of 2006 i might say.. wth man. here, mrs ang and her fellow Victory house compatriots. its her birthday today. 16th.


ugh.. look at them. despicable. vigour vigour tsunami!




and like im gonna miss this dude. he and his ratty 1988 Yamaha rx-k 125cc sports motorbike..
stylo.




headin' home. "immobile lunch"






happy family.. mhmm.. thats what OTHER classes refer their class as.


but if 5A is a family, our parents must be like all dysfunctional, tai-tai chinese mum, with a foster skinny step-mum and a dad with a near-unknown-middle-eastern ethnicity with sperms and ovums so bad ass which some way or another gave birth to different kinds of bastard offspring resulting to hybrid satan kids. they were all like series of lots chinese kids, some malay kids, couple of indians, a hindi kid, an indo kid which came out of a golden egg, a malaysian fella, a chindian kid, and a jewish kid (lol). family meetings were never complete, a closely bonded sisterly love between the girls and no such thing as brotherly love.. shouting is more of a greet.


and the word, shit and fuck is more or less affectionate, an oi is jus like dear.. oh what a family..





whao. memories of school life. kinda sad that we're not gonna experience shit like this daily anymore. monks hill should be like still kickin and alive. but anyways good thing i left before goin to BHSS. :)





so like what better ways to release yourself from a whole week of intense hardcore mental fuckfest than to go jogging.


it took millenias waiting in tanglin mall for tiffy. and since christmas is coming, they set up a gigantamous christmas tree on the front.. she took so 'blardy' long tat i could even memorise the sequence of characters on the christmas tree, from bottom up..


First layer, drummer boy, second, pipers, then third some farmers, fourth a mother,then a kid with a basket, a geese/goose/swan/bird, then golden rings, then pigeons, then very top is a Golden Star.. and i deserve that for memorising all that.





wooot, it was uber liberating.' sad to know that i manage to only run a quarter of the total i used to run. and drop by for a light pig-out at The Prata Shop..






look at the pic above, which miraculously i happened to find salvage in one of the ulu-est folder.. a before and after look of o level.
before,

me:
shitty haircut,
NO pimples,
fat hands,
no facial hair
not fat

tiff:
perfect alignment of bracers
well tied up and groomed hair
a dual black sex band ashlee simpsons' braid bracelet
not fat

after,
me:
shittier hair cut
near mor peng, but not(NEVER! lol),
shrivelled, dendritic veins looping all over viewable thru skeletal hands
growing a light stubble.
fat

tiffy:
bent criss-cross bracers
loose, no treatment necessary/
still a dual black sex band ashlee simpsons' braid bracelet
somewhat fat

tragic. cos we used to complete the full run with the slightest of ease. blah, we used-ta-be THA SHIT back then... you see the results and aftermath of the o's. hey, i dun suck but i gotta tell you, gravitational pull seems alot stronger after the exams.. ur diet, no matter how strict it is, eventually, ur gonna get fat. late night mugging in macs and all. candies and chocolates.. mcdeliveries. chicken rice, bla bla bla. they pull ur ass closer and closer down to the ground. and one of the reason could be that ur taking O levels. the nearerr ur exams come, the nearer ur ass to the Earth's core.





update: went for another re-run of a run, but this time, completed half. a progress at least.


"ya got ma' temperature risin' like what? el nin-yo!. rain rain rain. im burnin up in here.. burnin' hawtt-ah" omg.


Tata Young's solo album is like the musical equivalent of painful, burning, gut-wrenching, unbearably smelly diarrhea. explosive and uncontrollable. misery in its purest form.

this is assuming that, say, Illinoise, or The White Album are examples of nice, solid-but-not-too-hard poop logs that seem to glide gracefully and effortlessly out of your innards in an almost pleasing way, and, amazingly, manage to require no wiping at all.


currently the mtv, my sister and the living room television is playing "El Nin-yo" at a deafening volume, and yeah, i hope Tata Young gets STD from a hot lesbian girlfriend and never records any music ever again. actually it would be more satisfying if she did record more music, and not a single person cared about it. but that's giving people too much credit. i have more faith in the hot lesbian girlfriend.













and oh yea, campTEEN is so coming. and yeah, im taking part. sadly, im feelin so amped jus like anyone else whose taking part.. hope it like doesnt suck at all. which requires me to do something like this:













omg.













oh yea, it suck to haf ur comp to be this powderful:














i swear i never do any means of photoshoppping or whatnot. this is an actual print screen of the very computer im using now.


seriously, this comp seriously cant run. but yet i still am able to blog, msn live messenger, itunes and send musics. and oh yea, the hard disk space is a measly4gb... my ipod has sevenfold more space.


impossible? i know.



gosh 5 am.. woo bloggy, i am back. promise i try to give my best effort to blog more often.
Good God, i better get to sleep