tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71267322024-03-13T12:27:03.439+08:00mutant lobster zombie in florescent cubicle hellthis blog just may get me fireddisputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.comBlogger292125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-80362349702459856852011-01-11T09:45:00.001+08:002011-01-11T09:48:12.932+08:00I can run and blog and find a cure for cancerIs there nothing technology can't do?<p>Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device via Vodafone-Celcom Mobile.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-81568217693676758532011-01-04T16:16:00.003+08:002011-01-04T16:27:26.390+08:00Getting Old..Since I was updating my blog (3 posts so far, hiphiphurray), I thought it would be nice to update my Twitter as well. <br /><br />Logging in to Twitter, I could not, for the life of me, remember my account password. <br /><br />Myself: Maybe it's *****<br />DENIED<br />Myself: How about ********<br />DENIED, FOOL<br />Myself: Alright Twitter-bot, try this ********<br />HAHA<br /><br />I know I could just reset the password and get the whole ordeal over and done with but I'm nothing if not persistent (stupid and stubborn). So, I went through my little black book, cause I write everything down, thinking that maybe my Twitter password is in there somewhere.<br /><br />I did write it down, it says: "TWITTER PASSWORD SAME AS YOUR CIMB BANK PASSWORD"<br />Crap.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-70464514087738181502011-01-03T21:28:00.002+08:002011-01-03T21:38:17.619+08:00Guess the movie..Home, January 2nd 2011, 1.30 am<br /><br />Me : die..die..die, you sonabitch, dieeee...<br /><br /><br />Home, January 2nd 2011, 8.00 am<br /><br />Sister : what were you watching late last night? I heard you screaming at the tv at past 1 in the morning..<br />Me : was watching that stupid twilight movie. <br />Sister : i seriously thought you were watching some war movie, man, you were really yelling curses for someone to die..<br />Me : they should have really shot that girl and the stupid sparkling pussy dead before ever thinking of filming that crap...*began a 10 minute tirade of how hateful the movie is*..<br /><br />Seriously. Hate. It. Gah.<br /><br />If anyone asks, am Team Jacob. Ahem.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-64223408918813214122011-01-03T21:23:00.002+08:002011-01-03T21:27:47.992+08:00Hap..hap..happy New YearLast post was in July 2010, for real? Talk about lazy blogging.<br /><br />So maybe, albeit I resent new year resolutions, for this 2011, maybe, just maybe, I could be resolute in posting more updates.<br />Hear hear.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-25187701866448624062010-07-03T23:12:00.004+08:002010-07-03T23:29:38.343+08:00People Watching<div>There are no strip clubs in Kuala Lumpur (that I know of). Let's just assume there are no strip clubs here, hence Kuala Lumpur has no strippers. So, presuming you're not a stripper, why on earth do you insist on dressing like one*?</div><div><br /></div><div>Clothes, you can buy. Style, you can copy. Class, you either have it or you don't.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*lucite heels, animal print ripped spandex top, short acid wash jeans shorts, fake lashes, 4pounds of makeup, dangly earrings, tramp stamp tattoo AND fuchsia lipstick. I mean, <i>come on</i>. </div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-22405114315482367472010-07-02T20:47:00.006+08:002010-07-02T21:17:11.877+08:00IrritantA gaggle of girls sitting on the next table at this Mamak place, eager to join the masses watching the football game. Loudly commenting on every single action on the field to no one in particular. <div><br /></div><div>Trying to convince the world that they are, indeed, the very rare and special species of girls that are seriously into football. They know all the players' names. Well done. They the loudest to cheer/moan/groan every time something happens. Sometimes belatedly. They think all attempts at the goal are beautiful and singularly worth talking over loudly for another 10 minutes or so. They wear the tiny team jerseys, proud to show their colors (and body) and where their allegiances lie. They reminiscence about the last game before this, that game was better, cooler, they watched that one, too. They are hardcore football maniacs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shut. The. Fuck. Up. And. Go. Home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone knows as a football fan, you're basically Justin Bieber (i.e. a fetus), but in the spirit of the Cup, we'll allow it.</div><div>Everyone also knows that you're only at this Mamak place for the guys, but in spirit of having some airhead eye-candy for the guys here too, we'll allow it.</div><div>Everyone knows that, the only reason why there are no guys sitting in the same table with you is because anyone who knows a smidgen bit more about football than you would laugh their heads off listening to the inane and irrelevant comments you insist on (loudly) making all night long, ironically to prove to the crowd how well you know their football, when, in fact, you don't.</div><div>But we'll allow that too.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's the World Cup, and every 4 years, we can afford to be magnanimous to the needy and pathetic. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just know that nobody is impressed.</div><div><br /></div><div>And please, just shut up. If I want an inaccurate play-by-play, I'd ask TV1 to resume localised commenting. I want to enjoy the game in peace with my buds. I may not care about the result as much as you (seem) to do but your screeching every time someone dives grates on my nerves.</div><div><br /></div><div>And learn about the offside rule(s).</div><div><br /></div><div>And a deflection does not make it an awesome goal.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you next World Cup.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank you.</div><div><br /></div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-86068113033316346852010-03-19T09:27:00.006+08:002010-03-19T15:30:11.920+08:00If you are..If you are what you eat,<br />..then I am 81% Mom's food, 17% nasi kawah, 2% McD and Domino (cause only they deliver), 1% feeling guilty and 100% good eats.<br /><br />If you are what you read,<br />..then I am Pratchett - sarcastic and with jokes people wont get the first time around. Or maybe even the second time. Or ever.<br />(sometimes also Gaiman, Fforde and myriads of Romance authors, but mostly and firstly, Pratchett).<br /><br />If you are who you hang out with,<br />..then I am the 'weird nerd who knows the best places to eat and talks about stuff no other people could relate to'. Never really popular, pseudo cool, but have the awesomest fun nevertheless.<br /><br />If you are where you've been,<br />..then I am India cause I am colorful, ethic and strange and need some getting used to. And I'm gritty and you either love me or hate me, no in-betweens but most probably, you'll remember me.<br /><br />If you are what you shop,<br />..then I am shoes and earrings. Bought during sales. Not always the best purchase but always something you could never have too many of. And never ordinary.<br /><br />If you are what you wear,<br />..the I am a plain black T, fuss free (I try) and stain proof. Ahem. Probably a little boring too.<br /><br />If you are what you write,<br />..then I am tacky with strong undertones of pretentious-ness.<br /><br />If you are who you listen to,<br />..then I am moody and undefined. Most of the time labeled 'Unknown Artist'. Wishing am not so main-stream but can't take the time to find better things to listen to.<br /><br />If you are what you're good at,<br />..then I am Merryl Streep; actress, extraordinaire.<br /><br />If you are what you do for a living,<br />..then I am crap. Enough said.<br /><br />If you are what you watch,<br />..then I am executive transvestite (Izzard) in Middle Earth dancing to old tunes (Tarantino) yakking to Bobby Chin about quite interesting things (Stewart, Colbert, QI, NMtB).<br /><br />If you are who you try to define yourself to be,<br />..then I am stupid. And trying too hard. And should know better than to sum anything up in words.<br /><br />Update! Yay!disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-40688899555816406272010-03-03T12:21:00.005+08:002010-03-07T16:27:29.417+08:0017 Reasons Why it is Cool to Have 17 Plain Black T-ShirtsSo Nadia has been giving me grief about my 17 pairs of plain black Ts that I own. Why, I have no idea. There's nothing strange with my dress sense. I have 17 perfectly good reason why it is perfectly okay to own 17 black tshirts.<br /><ol><li>Black tshirts are cool, says James Dean</li><li>Black tshirts are cool, says me (yes, I am going to shamelessly cheat on this list. Deal)</li><li>It matches with practically anything..</li><li>..hence, you save time when picking stuff to wear</li><li>You can go crazy when you accessorize..</li><li>..cause when you wear patterns or colors you should really rein in the add-ons</li><li>Same t-shirt, 7million different looks</li><li>You can buy them in bulks (yes, I am cheap. Don't judge)</li><li>Makes me look thinner</li><li>Makes anyone look thinner</li><li>Slogan tshirts are for idiots (I only own 2 of those kinds)</li><li>I'm incredibly messy and stain doesn't show on black. Yay black!</li><li>It's rocker punk, it's goth, it's adult sombre, it's hip, it's fun, it's anything you want it to be</li><li>Black is timeless</li><li>I look good in black</li><li>My personality makes up for my lack of color</li><li>I only have 16 pairs cause my mom threw one away so I don't really need a 17th reason now, do I?</li></ol><div>So there. Satisfied? Do you now see why it is perfectly okay to own some-number amount of black Ts? I am not weird Nadia. You are. Ahem.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-50717795733333084262010-02-17T09:43:00.002+08:002010-02-17T10:00:52.420+08:00Not DeadNothing like getting spammed to spur you into pushing an update. I will try to find the time to, I promise. Okay, I will try <span style="font-style: italic;">harder.<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></span><br />On that note, this blog's layout is ugly.<br />What the hell was I thinking wei?disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-60512666369448457242009-12-14T00:50:00.005+08:002010-02-19T21:46:44.117+08:00Allow me to digress..and to procrastinate (I have a 40-page report due tomorrow at 1pm and I haven't done heck).<div><br /></div><div>I found this while I was digging through the mounds of notes my 7months in INTAN has allowed me to accumulate ( I was supposed to be looking for my Research Methodology notes. I get distracted very easily, as you can very well see). It was the sketches of an article draft I was supposed to do for our magazine editorial. We just won the debate competition (more on this later, maybe) and Mr. Editor who was also on the debate team asked me to pen something about it. This was what I wrote:</div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote>The day we won the debate competition was indeed a day full of surprises. For one, the very fact that we even won it was an unsuspected ____ (<i>encountered a writer's block despite the brilliant start. Asked the rest of the team to help out but they were rubbish so I restarted.</i>)</blockquote></div><div><blockquote>We had one motto going into the competition, with due respect to the opponents, we held fast to our totem; "it's okay to lose as long as you do it with style". The win was an unexpected. Heck, even the preliminary win was a huge surprise. We were so unready for the finals that until we sat down on (<i>sic</i>) our seats on the stage (<i>for the finals</i>), only then that Un and I realized we had the motion wrong. But true to the spirit of the Sidang (which was strong within us) we decided to do what we have been doing the whole time; we decided to wing it. I doubt Shemi even realized anything was amiss, as usual he was too caught up with himself. What I remembered most from the competition was how vastly entertaining the audience was. One time, I only had just finished the salutations but the applause was befitting me curing cancer. I love the actions that was going on in the seats. I was sure I could see the VIPs themselves suppressing a smile or two as well. Even the hecklers was lovable. This whole essay as you can tell is about me, me, me, me, me, me and me!</blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div>I lost interest at this point and reevaluated sending any article at all for the Editorial. But 5 minutes later I got bored with whatever lecture that was going on in class and decided to give it another go.</div><div><br /></div><div>Facts about the Debate Competition ppl don't know.</div><div><ol><li>Shemi has photographic memory so in essence we cheated. Cause we brought wiki.</li><li>2 out of every 5 facts we presented were totally fabricated.</li><li>It was the battle of the giants (school-wise) MCKK in one corner, SAS in the other. STF backing Koleq just for fun.</li><li>It was colder on the stage than anyone could every imagine.</li><li>Everytime we raised our hands for POI, we had only 50% of an idea of what to say. We lie best under pressure.</li><li>It has been collectively 25 years since any of us last debated.</li><li>We felt the topic was grossly unfair to us. But since we won anyway, it just shows that we're that good.</li><li>We overestimated our opponents. We thought they'd be much better. Apparently, they suck.</li></ol><div>As you can tell, I wasn't being serious. Can you tell? Well, I wasn't serious. I was joking. My ego is not that huge. Am not that obnoxious. But I gave Un/Mr. Editor the draft anyway for a look-see and he made some notations:</div><div><br /></div><div></div><blockquote><div>Un's 2cents: no. 2 - don't mention, tukar lain</div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>no. 8 - play nice dude, tone down</div><div><br /></div><div>add-ons:</div><div>-Un had difficulties to listen to any of the POI from fellow oppenents because Neila and Shemi can't stop talking from both sides of his ears.</div><div>-at the back of the hall, we sang Mariah Carey's I can make it through the rain (<i>while we were waiting for the VIPs to arrive</i>).</div></blockquote><div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Good times. </div><div>Oh Lord. I miss my friends at the DPA like you can't imagine. Choi. Back to work now. Sigh.</div></div><div><br /></div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-84507266167983544382009-11-29T10:31:00.005+08:002009-11-29T11:19:32.644+08:00Blood, Guts and Gore.. it must be Eid!<div>So it's been a while. My apologies but I can't really be blamed for having a life now, can I? Ahem. So, in case you're wondering (which you probably aren't), I am alive and well and having the best time of my retarded life. Yay. Will dish out details as soon as I get to leave the antiCreativity-Vortex that is INTAN. Seriously, if there's any place on earth that could suck out all your individuality and creativity, it's this place. Guess, it's not that big of a surprise seeing how it is here that mindless government drones are bred and trained every miserable day. But I digress..<br /><br />It was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha">Eid</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha"> </a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha">al</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha"> </a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha">Adha</a> and I got to go back for a while. I wanted to post all the really gruesome pictures but I really don't want to offend any of my 3 readers. So, behold the PG pictures.. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmwUzhWI/AAAAAAAAAYw/qwje12q9hfw/s1600/27112009961.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmwUzhWI/AAAAAAAAAYw/qwje12q9hfw/s200/27112009961.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409354882395374946" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">That person with the white serban and black wellies is the SlaughterMeister extraordinare. This was the moment when Bull became Hamburger.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmsMTyKI/AAAAAAAAAYo/VyATbWDg8RI/s1600/27112009968.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmsMTyKI/AAAAAAAAAYo/VyATbWDg8RI/s200/27112009968.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409354881285998754" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This was still twitching when it was plopped in front of me. Twitching! It wasn't even connected to the cow anymore. Come on.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmKuY8jI/AAAAAAAAAYg/d78NRpbMB6w/s1600/27112009950.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjmKuY8jI/AAAAAAAAAYg/d78NRpbMB6w/s200/27112009950.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409354872302137906" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">These escaped the festivities. Count your blessings, goats! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjloc_TjI/AAAAAAAAAYY/ptNlfT-MDLw/s1600/27112009952.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHjloc_TjI/AAAAAAAAAYY/ptNlfT-MDLw/s200/27112009952.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409354863102348850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pictures are obviously not in sequence. Just a surrounding shot of the site of carnage before any carnage was occurred. People standing around trying to look like they know what they're doing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm1AbK4iI/AAAAAAAAAZI/i6EeJJEPV3U/s1600/27112009967.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm1AbK4iI/AAAAAAAAAZI/i6EeJJEPV3U/s200/27112009967.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409358425770091042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Still PG right? Everyone grab a limb and work our way down from there. Bear Gryllis did a whole camel on his own. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm03mrP4I/AAAAAAAAAZA/nyhbPoOiUA8/s1600/27112009948.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm03mrP4I/AAAAAAAAAZA/nyhbPoOiUA8/s200/27112009948.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409358423402430338" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Cousin and moi. Ahem. Yes, the headscarf was borrowed and only because it was the only one available. I forgot to bring any of my own. Shut up.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm0bruc-I/AAAAAAAAAY4/yXkcOHKDf1I/s1600/27112009972.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SxHm0bruc-I/AAAAAAAAAY4/yXkcOHKDf1I/s200/27112009972.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409358415907419106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">End result. Yummilicious squared. My arteries are still crying over the grease and fat intake from that day. Haha.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">FIN.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-54160011144316596732009-10-21T20:59:00.000+08:002009-10-21T21:03:14.749+08:00this is what my legs look like today<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/St8GQnlpk7I/AAAAAAAAAXo/vobV4mVBSl8/s1600-h/Leg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/St8GQnlpk7I/AAAAAAAAAXo/vobV4mVBSl8/s320/Leg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395037761187713970" /></a><br />I did this to myself. Glory has a pricedisputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-13890602750066090782009-10-21T20:44:00.003+08:002009-10-21T20:57:28.344+08:00Life through a Face Mask is so much more better lookingAm in Kuala Kubu Baru, Selangor now. The Fire and Rescue Academy Malaysia. Am currently ongoing the last of my uniform-outdoor module of this course (yes, it's still not over and yes, it's been forever). So yeah, am with the Fire and Rescue Dept. and of course it's hardcore army training. Much harder this time cause our last outdoor anything was before Eid we are woefully outta shape. So, after 2 days of pumping, star jumps, situps etc etc, I'm happy to report that I'm surviving. I have bruises on top of bruises and I lost feeling on both of my legs now but hey, it's all fun. The instructors are hitlers and the sun is unforgiving but now I learnt to put out oil spill fire, compartmentalized fire behavior, set up my own breathing apparatus and carry the bloody thing around town (heavy like shit wei), learnt to set up water lines, repelled down a 4 storey building and the creme de la resistance, went through a 200m trauma inducing underground sewerage while wearing the BA. And it's only Wednesday.<br />Wish me luck for Thursday, Friday and Saturdaydisputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-20676025003661902182009-10-11T09:17:00.005+08:002009-10-11T10:02:10.442+08:00Talk to the Hand Cause the Face is Laughing Too Hard..She was talking about <a href="http://sareque.blogspot.com/2009/09/goosey-goosey-gander-where-shall-i.html">me</a>.<div><br /></div><div>I'm posting what she said here for all you lazy buggers. It's a good one so you might want to brace yourself:</div><div><blockquote></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(25, 25, 25); line-height: 18px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family:Georgia;font-size:13px;"></span></div><blockquote><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(25, 25, 25); line-height: 18px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family:Georgia;font-size:10px;">there is a junior from my high school doing her attachment here. i don't know if i should tell her that i recognize her. it was her name, actually, that made me notice her, because it wasn't common. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">i'm</span> not going to introduce myself, anyway, at least not as her schoolmate. i was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">suprised</span> that i recognized her at all, since i don't pay much attention to people, more so juniors, but i was even more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">suprised</span> because <em>i did not like her</em>. at all. and that attitude hasn't changed a bit! she was the kind of junior who would refuse to greet her seniors, and would defend her place in line when a senior wants to cut in (things you didn't do back when seniority rules still applied and the school system still relevant). to think of it, she was kind of like me, except with much, much more annoying high-pitched voice and an even worse know-all attitude. at least i was quiet and kept to myself.</span></div><div></div></blockquote><div>I did a week placement at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Selayang</span> Hospital and saw her the first day. I knew exactly who she was. The funny thing was that, I could recall no previous opinions about her from ye <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">olde</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">skool</span> days. I didn't hate her, couldn't remember if I'd ever did. I was (and still am) indifferent to her. But I had to admit, it was a tad weird when she seemed so clueless of whom I was. I mean me, the ultimate celebrity. Hoho. </div><div><br /></div><div>But now I know why. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I have this to say: it's been 10 years, sister, let it go. All these baggages, it can't be good for the soul, yeah? This is life after school, live it. Embrace it. Love it. Feel the love, can you feel the love? Feel the loveee...</div><div><br /></div><div>You're nothing like me, you're a better person. You forgive and move on. You're not judgmental. You're an open and warm person. You're not stuck up on the past.. Wait, did I have it backwards? Yeah, I did. Smirk.</div><div><br /></div><div>About the seniors-cutting-line-thing (Lord, can you get anymore juvenile?); Sorry, but I didn't do it to my juniors, can't see why you had to do it to yours. This one still gets on my nerves.</div><div><br /></div><div>My voice is modulate and pleasing to the ears. The dulcet tones of my voice is craved by many. Admit it. Hahaha.</div><div><br /></div><div>Can't do nothing about the know-it-all attitude. I am better than anyone and I know the best for everyone. Fact. Although I prefer the term 'opinionated hussy' coined by Shiren Monkee especially for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I did keep things to myself during the hospital placement, her boss even remarked that, "it's these quite ones (refer: me!) we have to watch out for..". So, okay, maybe he probably changed his mind after spending more than 2 hours with me but still..</div><div><br /></div><div>I would normally refuse to greet anyone whose life has no importance to mine, senior or otherwise. Why wouldn't anyone?</div><div><br /></div><div>You're right though, it was back in the days and when <i>you</i> were still relevant. Times has changed indeed. Hah. Burned.</div><div><br /></div><div>Grow up la <i>kak</i> oi.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-22918926536961220532009-10-09T15:04:00.004+08:002009-10-09T15:09:39.762+08:00X (now) + 1. GroanI'm over you.<div>I want good things for you.</div><div>If anything, I'm indifferent to you.</div><div>I have some regrets but I can live with it.</div><div>I really do hope you get to have a happy life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Having said that, I'm also selfish (and narrow-minded) enough to hope really hard that my life will be happier, better and awesomer than yours. Hah!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-51028488585030522712009-10-03T19:07:00.004+08:002009-10-03T20:17:56.780+08:00This is the Raya GrinchSo Eid came and.. well, it's still here, isn't it? Ramadhan was probably one of the awesomest Ramadhan ever so therefore Eid was even more dreaded than usual (oh, sue me). Had to be in campus during the weekdays but they paroled everyone out on the weekends.<div><br /></div><div>Got my Eid garbs two days before Raya. Which is a good time to get Raya stuff since almost everything was marked way down. Yay.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I Raya'ed in K.L, Temerloh and a day trip to Kuantan. It was alright. Meh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is the 13th day of Syawal and people are still coming to my house. Great. I live for the day I get to do endless amount of dishes and non stop refilling of the Raya cookies. Snort.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ahem. So, from the family and myself, since Eid is stubbornly still now, a somewhat belated Selamat Hari Raya. Whopping whee.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Ssc3rHqrbJI/AAAAAAAAAXg/ZclgCext1Q8/s1600-h/IMG_0029.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Ssc3rHqrbJI/AAAAAAAAAXg/ZclgCext1Q8/s320/IMG_0029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388336693104045202" /></a>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-62026592849775742442009-09-12T23:50:00.003+08:002009-09-13T00:03:33.935+08:00You just have to know when to give in..Even when you try so hard to resist..<div><br /></div><div>Even when you think you can withstand it..</div><div><br /></div><div>Even when it's against everything you stand for...</div><div><br /></div><div>Even when you still don't get what's it all about..</div><div><br /></div><div>..you need to know when to give in and give up..</div><div><br /></div><div>They say; if you can't fight it, then screw it, join it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, after being <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">staunchly</span> protestant about being associated with it, I have *reluctantly* decided, for various unavoidable reasons which has forced my hands, to..</div><div><br /></div><div>JOIN FACEBOOK!! ~am so ashamed.</div><div><br /></div><div>nellashuhaime@gmail.com.. moving with the insanity.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-51631110920166987422009-09-07T01:31:00.005+08:002009-09-07T01:47:17.640+08:00It's My Party<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SqPyjtu4rKI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KzqUhBcLWAM/s1600-h/04092009520.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SqPyjtu4rKI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/KzqUhBcLWAM/s320/04092009520.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378409075396095138" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Real clever, Akak. Jerk.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Butterscotch walnut. yum.</div><br /><div>It was my 2*ahem*^look! a badger with a gun, can you see?^*cough*6<superscript>th birthday yesterday. I had big, fat fun celebrating with new friends over in Campus and later with my family at home. Shopped at IKEA with mom for storeroom shelves and kitchen blinds. Bought myself a pepper grinder for my birthday present. Pathetic, I know. Oh well.</superscript></div><div><superscript>Thanks my family for the food they sent over for me to share with my classmates, the presents, thanks everyone for their birthday wishes. Next time just get it right, it's my<b> 22nd birthday</b>, geddit? Who you calling 26? You wanna come here and say that to my face,punk? Yeah, I don't think so.<br /><br />Getting older means you're scarier to little kids. </superscript></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SqP0ke21MXI/AAAAAAAAAXY/s-6dTDmbuOI/s1600-h/04092009524.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SqP0ke21MXI/AAAAAAAAAXY/s-6dTDmbuOI/s200/04092009524.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378411287606014322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Everyone in their rattiest PJs and half asleep (we had a test during the day, so we crammed the night before). They still managed to finish all the food and all I get to send to the boys were half of the cake. Poor ravenous fools. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, we take our partying very seriously. Snort. Snort.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-44733717719607929532009-09-01T23:56:00.011+08:002009-09-02T03:57:43.189+08:00Teaser.. Sorta KindaI promised updates and pictures, non?<div>Well, going through the millions (and millions) of pictures I have of my course (which is only halfway done), I got scared. And lazy. Oi, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">vedi</span> the lazy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wei</span>. So, here's my deal: I'll post a picture or two of each module I've been through. And later (like, next year perhaps), if I can remember any particularly amusing story from any of the modules, I'll do a special post of it. With extra pictures and extra <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sambal</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>**For the aliens out there, what is happening right now is that I'm undergoing a 7months course for my job confirmation. This *stupid but highly entertaining* course consists of several week-long modules like Economics, Human Resource Management, Law, Constitutions, etc. etc. Among the myriads of modules, I also have to attend some awesome outdoor module i.e. Army, Police and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Firerescue</span> Training and the memorable Outward Bound. These are their stories =<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cheng</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">cheng</span>=<cheng cheng="">~a la Law and Order: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">SVU</span>.</cheng></div><div><br /></div><div>The first two weeks (May) was sheer <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">blimpin</span>' hell, excuse my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Jawa</span>. I was out of shape and bewildered and they made us camp out in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lagong</span> with no sleep, 8hours hikes and insane disciplinary antics. I posted my post-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Lagong</span> physical <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">sakitness</span> renderings <a href="http://disputedlamb.blogspot.com/2009/05/everything-farking-hurts.html">here</a>. It was during this module that I was introduced to the now-familiar squat jump, star jump, PT10, 5 degrees of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">sit ups</span>, 2.4km run, etc. etc. Aah.. Memories. I'm also still recovering from the 1st degree sunburn from the multiple 'let fry them in the sun at 2pm cause they were _____[insert whatever asinine reason you can come up with]' sessions. Picture:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1WipFrDTI/AAAAAAAAAVw/o2jy0_5lrMk/s1600-h/25052009274.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 140px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1WipFrDTI/AAAAAAAAAVw/o2jy0_5lrMk/s320/25052009274.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376548683295427890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Compare <strike>five</strike>forehead with forearm. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Choi</span>. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Hello, tubs of whitening creams.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Only seemed happy cause brain is fried and sleep deprived.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Next, I went for my army module, allegedly the hardest and toughest and feared of all the outdoors module. It wasn't all that. I mean, in a good way. I managed to muddle through so it can't be that hard, right? I mean, I'm basically your blob of human fat traipsing around with zero stamina. I did fine there hence it can't be that bad. Yeah, we got yelled and screamed and hollered at. But it was all good. There, in the hallowed ground of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">PULADA</span> (Army Training Centre, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Johore</span>), I discovered 3 things:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul><li>I love riding in the 3 tonnes truck. Love, like, L.O.V.E. Best. Thing. Ever. </li><li>I'm pretty good at dismantling and using a M16 rifle. So-so aim though.</li><li>I can drink all the water I want and if I run around in full camouflage gear in noonday heat, I wont ever need to go to toilet.</li><li>I am awesome. Ahem. Evidence only shows.</li><li>I can't count apparently. Hmm..</li></ul>Pictures, only because I'm too cool.</div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1ae4unK7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/TRl1hDWyDIo/s1600-h/22062009295.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1ae4unK7I/AAAAAAAAAWA/TRl1hDWyDIo/s320/22062009295.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376553016820706226" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Personalized camouflage. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Nama</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">sape</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">ntah</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1aed7lBrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/x-3d_svtlKI/s1600-h/26062009312.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1aed7lBrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/x-3d_svtlKI/s320/26062009312.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376553009627334322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Who would've thunk that something so, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">erm</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">aggresively</span> vehicular could be so much fun? Sigh.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Then, we were bussed off to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Lumut</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Perak</span> for our vacation, I mean, Outward Bound module, more fondly known as OBS (retro acronym - Outward Bound School). I had so, so, so, so, oh Lord, so, so, so much fun here, it's ridiculous. Kayaking and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">whalering</span>. Learnt about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">riggings</span> and sails and camping and had plain crazy fun. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Choi</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Gile</span>. Pictures now.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q-QtnVEI/AAAAAAAAAWg/TASAcAPiR0w/s1600-h/IMG_0036.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q-QtnVEI/AAAAAAAAAWg/TASAcAPiR0w/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376571148020962370" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Watchmates</span> and I storing the sails in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">erm</span>, sail house.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q9_s7plI/AAAAAAAAAWY/pS5VfLUR98g/s1600-h/DSC04802.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q9_s7plI/AAAAAAAAAWY/pS5VfLUR98g/s320/DSC04802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376571143454697042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">In our beloved whaler, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Loius</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Rothman</span> II, that kicked other whalers' asses. Boo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">yah</span>. I manned the bow and the jib sail.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q9c7oyaI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/wvv9Fi-74-U/s1600-h/P7071924.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1q9c7oyaI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/wvv9Fi-74-U/s320/P7071924.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376571134121134498" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Kayaked until my shoulder <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">quitted</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Avec</span> Roy (beloved <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">kayakmate</span> who volunteered to be the sweeper. Psychopath that he is) en action. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1t9Z1-3mI/AAAAAAAAAWo/M1E5JK_jZvs/s1600-h/11072009344.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1t9Z1-3mI/AAAAAAAAAWo/M1E5JK_jZvs/s320/11072009344.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376574431826992738" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Tadaa</span>. My 3-tiered <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">tan lines</span>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">And then there was my Biro <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Tatanegara</span> module in Malacca. I was there for 5 days of brainwashing. Yes, I am 100% pro government now. All evil roots from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">DSAI</span> (there, you people happy now?!)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1wNKbRfuI/AAAAAAAAAWw/kjIZDTLRUA8/s1600-h/03082009370.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp1wNKbRfuI/AAAAAAAAAWw/kjIZDTLRUA8/s320/03082009370.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376576901589597922" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">With my white school uniform, damn cute right? Snort.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Last is my most recent Police Module. Out of this world experience. And guess what, the pictures ain't ready. I have a few but the stories that comes with it will have to wait. </div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp12AAZGO8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/-wa3XC0JtjQ/s1600-h/DSC05365.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp12AAZGO8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/-wa3XC0JtjQ/s320/DSC05365.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376583272627583938" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Was in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Ulu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Kinta</span> for 3 days for training, Including the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">PORU</span> (Police Order Riot Unit) training. Dem <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">awsum</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp11_sPtRGI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZUPlKkuNvxg/s1600-h/DSC05352.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp11_sPtRGI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZUPlKkuNvxg/s320/DSC05352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376583267219489890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Compass reading practical. Piece of cake.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp11-_3MnnI/AAAAAAAAAW4/2tdcAJBq6p8/s1600-h/10082009381.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp11-_3MnnI/AAAAAAAAAW4/2tdcAJBq6p8/s320/10082009381.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376583255305526898" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Faez</span> and I. Woke up at 6 for marching practise. Perky for a.m, eh?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So there. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Janji</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">telah</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">dikota</span>. Holy shit, its already time for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">sahur</span>. Enjoy these and I'll catch you later.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-81584906083938311712009-09-01T23:06:00.005+08:002009-09-01T23:19:22.815+08:00Is This Link Broken?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp06KnUe3SI/AAAAAAAAAVo/NDV3Uv9jw2c/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/Sp06KnUe3SI/AAAAAAAAAVo/NDV3Uv9jw2c/s400/Untitled.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376517484178234658" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oi.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So it has been a while since I last updated.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'M SORRY!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Still, that ain't reason enough to kill my blog, kan?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Right?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sigh. All the wonderful stories I were about to share with the world..</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh well.</div>disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-38514594905939652762009-08-08T13:38:00.003+08:002009-08-08T14:44:13.471+08:00Wrecked, frazzled and brainwashedI pledge, that as soon the stupid contractor finishes renovating my house and reconnect my bloody phone line and as soon as I find where I stashed my modem, I shall dedicate one entry per module of this course I'm attending, avec illustrating pictures. Because I'm having the time of my life right now and it's just not right that I deny all of my readers (all 2 of them) the pleasure of sharing the most illuminating experience to my life as yet. Ahem. <br />As to that, allow me the small honor of updating everyone (the 2 aforementioned) that I just finished my Citizenship and Constitution of Malaysia (roughly translated) course. It was in Melaka and what it was, was basically 5 days of a certain one person bashing and repeated reinstatement of all the justifications of why a certain detainment act is necessary to the whole lot of us, diplomatically put. What it was to me was a demonstration in absolute denial by various degrees. I managed to practise my poker face and read Pratchett under the guise of taking notes. <br />But not all was in vain. I learnt the lyrics to some patriotic songs (the ones that all this while I only vaguely recognise thhe chorus), crash course in the history of this fine nation and most of all we managed to visit Melaka town. It was great fun especially us looking very retro awesome in our regulatory white school uniform. <br /><br />I'm gonna try to upload pictures now. Am posting from my cell so we'll see. <br /><br />... I failed. Later I will try again. Till then, my little brother's college convocation is today. Joy. Congrats brat. Now get a job so I don't have to give you duit raya this year.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-74241334819428526412009-07-23T10:37:00.003+08:002009-09-01T23:20:39.680+08:00News From Afar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SmfR7uDorJI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/tXI2AqfSpJU/s1600-h/DSC04667.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DsLyPdQxruc/SmfR7uDorJI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/tXI2AqfSpJU/s200/DSC04667.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361484705313631378" border="0" /></a> Ahoy. Here's a quick update just to prove to people I am still alive. Picture was taken last two weeks on top of our whaler (Louis Rothman II) in Lumut. Had crazy (CRAZY!!) fun and am now sunburned to crisp. In case you forgot, I'm the one standing by the main mast saluting the world and enjoying being so far away from our restraining camp.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-15952590479703613982009-05-29T10:38:00.003+08:002009-05-29T10:56:45.944+08:00Reprieve!Warning: inverted commas will be severely abused in this posting.<br />They're letting us out for 3 days this weekend. They say we 'earned' it for 'good behaviour'. They say its a 'priviledge' and we still need to be 'careful' because in the next 7 hours until they let us out, 'anything' could still 'happen'. They say be should be 'thankful' because we are allowed to see our families after 2 weeks solid of 'training', 'conditioning' and 'orientation'. <br />I say..'thanks'. *you have no idea how hard that is for me to say* <br /><br />Now, I need to buy a black court shoes that doesn't murder my toes, get a medical checkup done for the army module, withdraw billions of money to pay for the millions of stuff they asked us to and cuddle with my mom.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-46505660376610202902009-05-27T09:25:00.003+08:002009-05-27T09:36:03.306+08:00Everything Farking Hurtsi'm in purgatory. My mom made me volunteer for this. I am not loving my mom right now. It's been 9days since I last had a decent night sleep. I am barely coherent and extremely snippy, i pity the fools around me.. They've been dishing out army style physical torture and I have bruises on top of my bruises. My right toe is numb and I don't even know what day it is today. In short, I'm freaking awesome<br />And guess what, I have 6 more splendiferous months of this to look forward to. Fudging A.disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7126732.post-24992466106435323702009-05-12T14:32:00.004+08:002009-05-12T15:20:36.418+08:00RoadkillI've noticed in the past 2 weeks that there have been quite a number of roadkill I can see on my way to work. This morning I decided to count and discovered that there were 5 dogs , 2 cats, 1 suspect snake and 2 unidentified carcasses (all in various stages of decay) littering the side of the 10 km from home to the office. That's quite a lot, you'd have to agree. Unusually so, even. And the dead ones are evenly spaced out in all the areas I have to pass; from Selayang to K.L (via Kuching Road), equal share of animals run'd over. Obviously roadkill happens all the time, I'm very much aware of this. It's probably normal to have maybe one or two dead fourleggers every 2 other months or so. But 10 dead animals in 10 km? That's not right.<br /><br />Are Malaysian drivers getting especially retarded in the past 2 weeks? Are animals more suicidal than usual? Tag games gone wrong? Some deadly vendetta going on between the homosapiens and the other mammals/suspect reptiles? Sadistic animal population control? Skewed Pavlov reaction to shiny metal contraption on wheels hurtling down the freeway at 90kmph? What? It's a mystery, one we'd probably would never know the truth to..<br /><br />Later today, on my way back, I'm gonna take pictures and put it up here. The one dead dog near the Duke Freeway is especially gruesome, with maggots and decimated brain matter and everything. Awesome.<br /><br />(Of course this could be happening because of all the road lights are not working now and nights are especially dark but hey, common sense sucks. And rationality is boring)disputed lambhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01769111994810187759noreply@blogger.com1