gw ngentot banget lo.

get a load of this fat fuck:

HAHAHAHA!
annana took this in the lounge. some wired and tired fat guy im telling you. maybe you guys aren't feeling this way, but right now, its crunchtime in nafa and err'one would be slumped over the desk like this guy. and maybe fall sick too,

what the fuck's going on with the sickness man? half class is sick, my dad's sick. im falling sick. fuck, no, im never sick. the human sexy dragon refuse to fall sick. i was literally snivelling my ass off the whole day and figured that i have to do something.. when shit happens, YOU SHALT NOT dont roll over and die. thou shalt overcome it. instead of curling over in a feeble position on the couch, eating porridge, salmon oil pills and orange juice for dinner and slowly grow fats, i got my ass up and actually jogged. HARD. after that i downed carrot-orange juice so that my immune system is tempered in raw muscle and vitamin F, U, C, K, mang.
and lo and behold, i felt great.

1kg of fats takes as much space as 5kg of muscle in the body, peoples.
so you could imagine miguel chew compressing all that fats around five-folds and you could see him look like his glorious bodybuilding days.



so yeah, crunchtime for me:

i dropped $7++ for a premium grade A2 watercolour paper. for the final watercolour work.
hopefully it would get my money's worth and having it turn out epic.






my bedroom. neat and clean, like a upclass hotelroom.(well, in fact, i treat my bedroom like a hotelroom because im hardly home, 'checkout' often and would make ridiculous request and complain to the management if somethings not right)barely messy, wouldn't be so from now on.



and my retarded sister (the smaller one. the borderline retarded one) spent close to $200 of her last year's savings on this bag. mum was like holyshit wtf? and she was like: my money, my problem lor, shuddup can?.

she got this lebron james baller bag for school. bung tomboy enough. i bet in a year time shes gonna listen to lesbian music like le tigre, tegan and sarah and tracy chapman, sport a side-shave, pierce a septum ring in the nose, wear torn jeans and a fuck you hat. and maybe shes gonna have a hot girlfriend that drives a super gay sportscar like say: saab convertible.

leather overload

the interior material is the same kind you find in a mercedes. suede, alcantara or something. nothing plastic.
the laptop pouch thats so comfortable, soft and supple, it feels exactly like boobs.


the final club-night before assessment week arrives.

she gots a guitar tattoo on hur neck!

indo night in rebel:

you like fishsticks? you like fishsticks in your mouth?

you

unique lor!

aww ma gawd. last friday, ju- , echarr, zulu and i went for the opening day for tampines 1 mall after class. and  holy shiznit it was packed, but the main purpose of comin over is checking out what the hype about the new japanese apparel giant uniqlo all about. so, we basically took 32769732045 mrt stops to transport our asses from nafa's bugis mrt to tampines mrt - all because of uniqlo. i could say it was one of the saddest and most singaporean thing i've ever did. but it was all worth it. to describe the new tampines 1 mall is just like saying plaza sing had a new brother.

people having maaay-jor issues entering the mall.

the new urban male sperm is the centre piece. high up there with prominence.

and upon OUR grand arrival to uniqlo, we had to line up lor! its like clubbing but no VIP/members entry. crowd control was so needed. lines were snaking across and along the toilet entry aisle and loops behind the cargo lift section till the emergency staircase exit. quite rabak. but we jumped in anyway. it wasn't long for us, cos some foreigners ahead gave up cutting our lines short. guess they dont have the born-talented perseverence of singaporeans. so upon entering, we were greeted by some young mr. miyagi looking guy handing us their sickly detailed brochure after parting the red velvet ropes (not the tape kind you see below) of the outlet.. 

once inside: 

its like entering matrix man, everything ipod white, the lights shines upon us, then on the side, massive walls decked out with showcased printed tee (i focking love printed tees), racks spruce up with messy clothes like trees the place looks like a t-shirt garden, plethora of colours, i cant go descriptive cos at that time my vocab was limited by the awesomeness. then you could see shoppers do the usual kungfu move that every singaporean have mastered: one hand calm and stationary carrying basket of stuffs or stuffs, and the other hand FURIOUSLY flipping, stretching, searching for the tag and checking other stuff out.  if there is such thing as a sword sale, one armed-swordsman would lose to us if he's there. so we went frantic also, checking shit out one by one, lifting the few remaining neatly folded shirts and throw it back where it is patheticly unfolded. and inside we encountered longer lines for payment and even longer line for the fitting room and longer-er for the ladies fitting room. the shirts are neat. the designs are cool but at the same time not cool. so by my equation being cool and uncool at the same time is cool.

wah lao. this could go on forever. i should save this review/report on history and issues of the arts instead of my first experiences in UNIQLO.

so to cut shit short, all i could say about Uniqlo is that it is: 

1. definitely more awesome than Topshop, because personally i think topshops is overrated, hipster, sexually ambiguous, i think its too brit and indie and the fact that its one of the shops that first introduced the boho-chic concept here. i bet those who dig topshop love using the word 'prick' and 'wanker' alot, love music like that jesus cross album by justice and have usually dull poetry/song lyrics as the primary content of their 'oh-so' eloquent blog of infinite vocabs..

deux. nerdy fashion cool. unlike Topshop, because from its marketing direction, its as if its exclusively for cool peoples. topshop models are clean-cut models wearing fashionably cutting edge and pose complete with the kiam pah face.

while, uniqlo's like geared for the mass public. to give you an idea, kinda like giordano. in fact, its like fusing Giordano with Graniph and Cotton On. 

san. uniqlo's family friendly cos they even have sections for kids too. so basically you could bring along everybody, your mother, your father, your brother, your sister abuela y abuelo. while topman on the other hand target groups are sissy and bratty teens.

so after shopping with echar and ju-ga-ju i got these:

the cock shirt, because i could wear them when i feel cocky.

hokusai. one of ma fave artists.

i dont know how much 2,990 yen is, but it sounds scary big unlike the rupiah.

hoho, mimi would be soo jealous that i got one of these.

 mat caught on camera. see how dangerously high that freakin cap is. and u have no idea how dangerously bright and tight the jeans is.

everytime i see one of them mat rep, it makes me wanna give them a flying:
 straight to tha face.

bape combi-van. fierce, but not as slick as edmund's ride

a japan tour bus. damn, it must be a long ride here. (insert audience booing for bad joke)
 my man at the back with assile. bang bus.

drift van.

nos. and then after that the van wheelie'd and did a planetary burnout around another car doing a burnout around a two hot chics hugging in the middle.

Giant ho.

Catch me, catch me, catch me, come and catch me, I want you now,
I know you can save me, come and save me, I need you now.
I am yours forever, yes, forever, I will follow,
Anywhere in anyway, Never gonna let go.

wah lao, if my surname is Ho, i would like so name my son Jai, can?.


go do your fucking work, Jai Ho.
jiayo.

you'se a stoopid nigga list'nin to Lil' Wayne, knawm' sayin'?

Dear Put Truckercap and Skinnies,

As if dealing with bus noise and mrt track soundtrack during rush hour wasn’t enough pain on my ears, here you come blastin' lil' wayne's Lollipop (old shit) through your nokia speakers!

i mean for real, how dare you subject innocent bystanders to your weak play-list of party and bull*&^%! While you nod your head to the beat, we shake our head in annoyance.

no one wants to hear that shit except you! Ungh!

my solution: Headphones, maa' fucker.

thats all.

-sexy man-dragon, Fish

good thing this study came about early:



thank god i've been listening to sufjan stevens since o level days. and minimal hip hawp now. not that this surprise me much.

the website is so cool because it provide useful shit and research. as i went lurking further i found something singapore chics find ultimately useful..

RINGTONE THAT CAN GIVE WOMENS LARGER BREASTS

right click, save target as to download) yes, im talking to all the flat chics reading this, and yes, includes you tiffanie.

oh, not forgetting. joveina. marr. ada. meiru. rina. uhh.. syirr. who else. francesca. hahah. this can go on forever.

yes, it will fucking work. the actual proof and the youtube proof

oh, and ladies ya'll have to find me after 20 days with that ringtone. my hot lovin' awaits.

haha. jk, woman..

complete hasbian

WOMG its been awhile right??!@ okay, im back. i know its been awhile since i've blog. and honestly, for the first time, i've actually skipped something for essential stuff. i've been busy everyday. and it's a natural habit for me that i have equal parts work and play. so this weekend, i've been shawpping, late night outing, clarbbing, spending, swimming, running, fun-ning(if theres such a word) and to end this with a bang, i'll end this night with blogging. i know its painful everytime u guys click my link, to see the same shit again and again. i would eventually update okay, even the main header. i just can't get away from it. its like every night my blog's like: darling, come on, lets do this tonight. and i'd be like, no baby, not tonight. i got school at 9 tomorroy. plus i've been painting the entire night. maybe next time. (kisses to blog. followed by planting face to pillow)


i dont know if God wants me to go clubbing regularly. because lately i've always wanted to participate friday prayers in the mosque, but missed it most of the time.

and some night it was the other day. it was so significant, i just had to recall it here,

the night before i was clubbing and i was i woken up the other sunday with a phonecall. it says unknown. so i answered with a proper hello as always, in bullshit phone voiceover, though actually the state im in is half-fucked sleepy and holding back slooooww a fuck-you-im-trying-to-sleep-bye. so a lady called. her voice was FUCKING eerie im telling you. FUCKING EEERIE. her voice was an audible equivalent to a ... and ?? to every end of a sentence.. she sounded emotionally ambiguous. like a mindfuck psychiatrist. like the SAW guy's tape or storm from x-men. or gaia from captain planet. or like mother earth. and some MOTHER it is. monotonous spine-chilling straight voice. after a few sentences from her, i knew she meant business and she is not. fucking. around. quickly, my body jacked up zombie-style suddenly like undertaker/kane.

it went like this:

me: hello?
phone: did you went out with alzena last night?
me: yes.
someone's mother: did you know that i stayed up till 4 in the morning?
me: ...
5 seconds of silence
someone's mother: did you know that i am alzena's mother.

(DERN DERN DERN DERN!!! oh shit, how could i not figured that out?)


i sighed and crashed my head back to my pillow. then after that was barrage of sentences starting with did yous from her. did you know i called her many times? did you know she didn't pick up? did you know what alcohol could do to you? did you know it is bad? did you know this? did you know that? i have an encyclopedia with a did you know? facts WAAAY lesser than the entire phonecall. i could not be fucked with the conversation and replied okay. sure. right. oh. to everything because that basically is the usual responses to mums. plus i can't go constructive with the replies with the half the face buried in cushion and cotton.

lesson for the day: if you can't stay out late, or underaged get the fuck home.

apart from that, this alzena individual is an absolute lamborghini retardo lar.. and get a load of her blog lor. she needs heavy medication.

but i have to give it to her, she invited me over to that bar none 98.7 event. and i finally knew who mark bonafide is..

so that night i was literally shit wasted. i even shit wasted literally. (get it?) after that phonecall, for some reason, i went to the toilet and SPRAYED shit. (could've shat a smooth long pooplogs normally). my asshole was actually spraying shit. as i looked down, the bowl looks what is seems to be like a Jackson Pollock's painting in brown format, man. and the sound it makes was like as if my asshole was trying to beatbox. i'm serious. if my asshole was in a beatbox competition, shane wouldn't have a chance. yeah, my ass was like "yo man, check this out, praaat!! ppoooop" followed by some awesome bass and sick beats.

AND GET THIS.
i used facewash lotion on the toothbrush instead because they have the same kind of tube packaging. good thing i realised before brushing my mouth. so yeah, i felt like shit. then before i washed the brush of, the devil reminded me that i'm wasting money washing that much nugeno facewash, so i brushed my face with a toothbrush. for 4 seconds before realising the stupidness in front of a mirror. i feel like shit.

yeah. that was that vivid reminder of the crazy bender the previous week.
and i think different people have their kind of highness when they are drunk. many of people i know is the go-crazy kind (duh). marr is the crazy laughing bitch kind that yells ''muppets!'' and ''i gotz low-blood pressshurre!'', some of my friend like adeline is the straight-up confession time kind, i got a cryer kind. my friend kevin is the violent kind, my boss is the horny kind, i have a friend that pouts and talks yabba-gu-gu-gaga language like baby when she's drunk. shit, theres so much varieties, they should make an app in facebook called: What Kind are You When Your Drunk? quiz. because i dont know how i was last night. one day i wanna experiment drawing something when im high on shit.

or fuck it, maybe ill make the whole fine art department drunk one night and then produce something after that. while dzaki videotapes everything.

HAHAHHAHALALHAHAHAH!!!



so the other friday the student welfare played Juno in the student lounge the other friday afternoon and i assume that more than half the school digs that kind of shit, because everyone turned up late for class at that time and by the looks of everyone in schoool being fashionably indie.. definitely fullhouse. i bet the student lounge would be packed with kids wearing big glasses, frilled dresses, newage bowl-cut, tights, lame leggings and polaroids over the neck.

huhuhuh.
it's bad enough juno promoted teen pregnancy. the message it sent was saying that it's ok to have a baby if your a pregnant teen and that putting it up for adoption is an acceptable alternative to an abortion.. and if you decide to keep the baby, your parents should be cool with the choice and support you.

here's an epic ultra funny site i found that was brought up when i was thinking bout that juno movie

why the fuck do you have a kid?


lolz0r, check it out:


looks like the tattoo artist used rui xiang sketch for reference, man


if he read that im sure he'd be like this:



LOL this picture never fail me.

pics of recent weeks:


night at settlers


some maze card game.

cool ass boardgame.
guesstures



move bitch get out the way.

danya did a drawing of me. flying fish, swimming bird. confused me.

juju banton:






and that crazy anannanana chic:




it all started with a bottle.

caught this woman sleeping in class.
one of the trophies i have to show off to prove that i did not suck in malay..
back then.


one of the most moving namecard.
vantage point. fuck i forgot to that the painting i did of this place on fire.

brush set lonh hangle hog ass


gwace.

some car that reminded me of tokyodrift(i wanna watch fast and furious 4. id be fucking furious if i miss it) yeah, so thats a lime green hatchback i saw on the road to school teh other day, and all it needs is dents and hulk stickers. to make it look like that tokyo drift car


speaking of tokyo, checck this out, waht happens if u add up:


tokyo mimi
+
ah lian rina
+
happy kabuki fat fuck
+
oni mask


=

my epic claymation slab. WOMG!!


needs polishing. frickin grains keep popping up like zits.


before i go,
recently i've asked myself why the fuck do i still loook like shit even after spending 45mins of shower everyday, so i looked up google for help on how to bathe properly.. so after 20 years of life experience im finally blessed!

you guys should read that up.


okay. shit. its 4am.

seacrest, out.