hong gan

i've been busy. yeah, now too.



womens weekly. was bored at work. like shitbored. i need a saviour

ST. JAMES POWERHOUSE!


waste of money. no offence whatsoever. everything was there. kinda fun, but the DJ was so bad, i think bringing my own laptop plugging it in to the speaker and using freaking windows media player wouldn't be much difference with the DJ's attendance. no flow in between of the playbacks. static, slow, badly mixed, sucks.

oh yeah! and ABISHEK was the damn model for the Mr. Singapore contest! lol!! hahaha. He was Mr. Toa Payoh. Male models are ripped, man. their bodies are like granite carving or something.
sadly, abishek was a tall behemoth of northern indian hunkness with a touch of babyfat. and hair. hahha.. but anyway, the shocking part was the revelation of the winner of Mr. Singapore. And lo and behold, Mr Toa Payoh bags that prize home! so cool. Jonathan wanna be the next Mr. Bukit Timah. He got big balls man. he needs to carry his balls in a wheelbarrow

balloons and conffetti, flying down on

E-clazz mer-say-daze benzz!
fucker
speeding!

went for some prom dinner and dance at hilton. woot woot. yeah. executive grand ball and shit. well, turns the whole thing was a waste of fucking time. hands down the shittiest management and planning of any event i've ever attended. the host was very self-centred, concerning to only the group of themselves. very inside jokes were made. even to their peeps. utter disregard with alienation at hand. fock. very focked up.

good thing chatsworth peeps went to like some hole-in-wall sheesha place in haji lane for a thorough sheesha session. salvaged the night at least..

life is a box of chocolates.

BLING'ed out purse. swarovski crystals.

hope to be back here in a jiffy.