kill bill, again and again!

beware, the kids have come out to play!

my counter-attack was swift and potent. i swung out my trusty parang and swiped it cleanly across the babbling necks of pesky noisy sch children. then i ran them over with a heavy-duty tank, squishing em flat and producing a juicy SPLAT that could be heard by many others miles away who were cheering me on.

behold, the Queen Bitch strikes once again! i was pretty sure they could feel the power from my icy cold dagger stare that projected the well-crafted killing conjured in my mind into their fluffy brains, annihilating 5566, gareth gates and any other idiotic pop idol in its path. it bore down their throats and ceased any inane airhead speech that was threatening to pollute our clean and green environment.

finally, peace reigned.

sch holidays are the bane of my existence. not my hols, of course. evrywhere u go there are packs of very loud sch kids blockin ur way and disturbing ur senses with their stupid acts and even more stupid conversations.

'i so swear i'm not gonna speak chinese till like, september!'

'ooohhhh!' -insert raucous giggles-

and so forth. the rest i blocked out with my blasting songs. the lady next to me on the bus changed seats. i was deeply traumatized. be afraid. be very, very afraid.

to top it all off, i was waiting for the traffic lights to change when i realised that this stumpy bald ang moh guy was taking a photo in my direction. now, i hope i wasn't mistaken but am pretty sure that i was the intended object. there was nobody behind and infront of me. the lens were directed straight at me.

now did i mention he's a whole head shorter than me? and that he didn't elevate his arms when he took the photo? and he had a leery grin on his damned face?

SO WAT THE F**K ARE U TRYING TO TAKE A PHOTO OF?!? MY BOOBIES??!!! TAKE THAT, U LITTLE TEAPOT SHORT AND STOUT!

once again, my parang glinted under the bright sunshine of midday. luckily my boobies are non-existent anyway. maybe he mistook me for a bapok.

kancil

in order to claim possession over the much coveted green bean soup left from the day's feeding frenzy i stuck a bright yellow post-it with "THIS IS MINE! - AH MIN" in big bold letters on the container. that was 5 mins ago. i've just finished evry single drop of the heavenly green mush. wat a bitter aftertaste. sometimes i wish i ain't so impulsive. just proved to myself yet again that i've absolutely no self-control watsoever. if i want somethin i want it now.

i need more patience. more patience to savour my food slowly. to give the hopeless waiters a chance to redeem themselves from the depths of utter stupidity. to tell my dad nicely wat an *&#@ he is. to control my rising annoyance at whiny, narrow-minded, pettily biased individuals.

oh God help me. either i turn into a retarded slow turtle with a 10-sec delay reaction time or make those slowpokes do the right thing faster.

aniwae the trip to the mandai zoo was fun. it's surreal lookin at these gigantic animals move and shit and eat and yawn up close and personal. it's better than Animal Planet. and i stroked a white stallion! *shrieks of ecstasy* not to mention the horrific sight of the gargantuan giant crocodile and hissing madagascar cockroaches. cool shit.

have just realised some smartasses put up disclaimers for their blogs. like 'this is purely for my own whining pleasure'. or 'don come and question me if i offended u cos u're stupid if u take me so seriously'. if onli i was that enlightened. then i wouldn't have fled in haste to this safe haven.

i'm still hungry.

just came back from watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

the ending credits rolled. there was an awkward silence hanging in the air. it was so thick, yet vacuous at the same time. u could almost hear the internal struggles within the disoriented viewers.

'wat the f**k did i just watch?! oh well. i wonder wat i shld eat for supper.'

'hmm. wait, i think i understand. i think i geddit! oh my i'm such a genius.'

'er. duh?'

'wah piang oei this kind of show waste my 8.50 man! nabei!'

'so wat's the ending??'

and so forth. if the aim of the movie was to provide food for thought, i guess we were chewing on it pretty well.

it's interesting to watch how pple behave after watchin a movie deeper than the bt timah canal.

some stayed really still in their seats and appeared helpless. they weren't sure of wat the movie was talkin bout and felt paisei bout appearing as stoopid and ignorant. so they forcibly evade the topic altogether, wait for 10 seconds and suggest supper instead. others felt the strong need to defend their rights to a movie that shld make sense, hence began to complain very loudly to nobody in particular bout how directors like to act chim nowadays. the ones who launched into an animated debate bout the artistic merits of the movie were the most fascinating. name-dropping, film jargon, etc. u'd think they did this for a living.

personally, i was a lil bewildered. the movie was, shld i say, avant garde? perhaps. certainly nothin i have seen before. but wat do i knoe aniwae. aint a big fan of arthouse films. give me commercialized shit anytime and i'll take it. i'm just that shallow.

but i really like the concept of the film. the way it was shot and all. it was thought-provoking, emotionally disturbing and psychologically intriguing. now that's somethin we don see very much these days.

in bout 8 hours time i'll be trotting off to the mandai zoo. now i'm left with the science centre on my places-to-go list.

love is just a feelin

i think i'm very good at pandering to evry other person.

not to say that i'm an incorrigible two-faced bootlicker. but more like i'm rather capable of sayin different stuff in different ways to different pple. basically i can talk to anybody at all. pride myself for being able to warm up to strangers and get them to open up considerably as well. maybe i'm just shameless. if my subject of interest is disinterested and contemptuous to wat i'm sayin, it ain't my problem but theirs. i've had a good time talkin to myself anyway.

but there's a downside. sometimes i'd feel pretty lost. i'd wonder which is the real me. when is the real me talkin. but i figured that i just have a multi-split personality and i like to role-play. when i gush with a bimbo, i'm breathless, ditzy and very high-pitched. when i discuss political and world issues with a potential PAP candidate from RI, i'm sharp and discerning. when i bemoan bout the sick sad world we're livin in with an emo, philosophical, chain-smokin morbid poetic addict, i can summon looming thunderclouds and impending apocalyptic doom in a split sec with my powerful words.

u knoe wat they say. speak our language and u're one of us, baby. now i knoe more bout the lives of delinquents, smartasses, and evry other assorted being. and still counting.

sometimes i fail to entertain and it gets me rather despondent too. but it happens onli either when i have garlic breath or if the other party is as sprightly as a Da Vinci display furniture. it's strange how some pple just can't seem to share personal stuff. maybe the skeletons in their cupboards are the bashful lot. they feel naked comin out of their hermit shells. i hope they'd have better luck with their future spouses, cos honesty is the best policy in any relationship. no point fakin an orgasm when it ain't happening, innit.

my dad is croonin at the top of his voice again. wayang style. it's either me having a hearing problem or he can hit certain notes that are audible onli to dogs. cos the song sounds pretty incoherent to me. missing parts here and there. but i'll give him a 7 out of 10 for him trying his best and havin no regrets anyway. way to go, dad.

it's a dreary day. i think of the crystal clear blue waters in redang where u can see schools of fishes swimming past ur legs and i start to weep.

the oddfellows

one more thing to add to the oddities of men. most loony-bins we see on the streets are of that gender. read pennylane's entry on this topic to see our point. relaking too much in a corner can cause brain damage and permanent lunacy. be afraid. be very afraid all u lazy asses.

am rockin in my chair as i type this. keep havin the sensation that i'm still bobbin on a choppy sea. must be the motion sickness from the ferry rides and long hours of snorkelling and kayaking. to gain the normalcy of being motionless, i've to resort to swayin voluntarily (or more possibly involuntarily) wherever i am. i hope i don irritate my frens to death by askin em incessantly whether we're still on a boat.

have had a request for a lowdown on the redang trip. in a nutshell: sun, sea and much fun. had some reservations bout goin in the beginning cos i thought i was a socially inept being. turns out that i can be rather entertaining at times. and props to the wonderful classmates i went with. got to knoe em much better and all. can't wait for our next trip. will post the photos up as soon as i get my butt movin.

much ado bout nothing

today i shall discuss the many odd ways of men. specifically, middle-aged men and old ah peks.

due to some reason known onli by our Maker, men have a curious habit of congregating in packs and engage in socializing activities like playin chess, chit-chatting, Tiger beer guzzling and random oogling at nubile adolescents strollin by. this is very peculiar as the government just passed the law that retirement age be set at the grand 67. supposedly in general singaporean uncles are law-abiding citizens with adequate respect for the singapore workforce team spirit, they'd be workin to support their families and knockin off at acceptable times of 6 pm and beyond.

however, this is not wat i observe. the question of the month is : why are they so free and easy at 5 pm and even earlier? don't they have to go and work? it annoys me deeply and disturbs my very inner being to witness their lackadaisical ways. i'm not sayin that it is wrong to take a siesta now and then. but think bout it, i don exactly see their wives doin the same thing of sittin ard in kopitiams and talkin bout random topics (usually revolving ard women, PAP, and their supposed past glories) in the afternoon till night. plus their lavish indulgences of beer, tze char dishes, and occasionally lounge hostesses.

now i find that my observation is not groundless, as i discovered the same situation in hongkong. where uncles and ah peks are takin Life easy by hanging ard in the park and sing to their birds. our ah peks are the first in our country to make their opinions very known by standing aperch stools in speaker's corner and slam the gah-ment. not to mention the overtly zealous taxi uncles who ramble away their life stories regardless of ur willingness to listen or not.

not exactly justice to the fairer sex i believe. why should the women slog at home takin care of the chores and children when the men, who are supposed to be workin their asses off, are slackin and stonin as if they deserve it?? hardly an equal distribution of labour if u ask me.

i say raise ur hands in the air independent Aunties. twist ur hubbies' ears and bark into their faces to wake up their bloody ideas. better still, pamper urself and be the ultimate neighbourhood tai-tai.

the worst thing bout these ah peks is their sleaziness in their stares. and their very slothful appearance - rubber slippers, worn tattered berms threatening to give way and reveal to the world their free willies, cheap-lookin shirts, oily hair, mousy moustaches. the works. ugh.

am back from sunny pulau redang. constipation problem is resolved, thank goodness. have ugly tan lines from a wretched sports bra and is resigned to the fate of wearing racer back tops for the next few months. had a blast with my classmates. the beach was breathtaking. endured a talkative taxi uncle on my way home. me is blissful.

calendar girls

water is a precious commodity much too rare to be contained in my body these days.

perspiring by the bucketloads plus gooey mucus racin down my nose uncontrollably at the same time is not a pretty sight. neither is it very comfortable as well. am losin so much water i think i can fill up macritchie reservoir. add seletar to the list. i'm a livin breathin renegade of the Save Water Campaign. watch me drip.

the rapid h20 loss has also resulted in a terrible malady of major constipation. yep. no poo-poo fer me. and so we arrive at the sticky question of whether mindy will shit in the next 5 days to come in sunny pulau redang. with a consistent diet of meat, meat and more meat (preferably fried, thank you), and a persistent denial of her need to ingest more fluids, her tummy will swell up to a ripe hard sphere. and truly, she will be full of shit.

sometimes we screw up, anxiety and guilt strikes, and we desperately try to make amends but to no avail. (my fave phrase in pri sch essays)
it's not good to try too hard i believe. not always within our control. perhaps things would have resolved themselves without our calculated efforts. yes. it'd be better to wait and see.

Patience is a precious commodity much too rare in pple these days.

procrastination is the mother of all fuck-ups

in about 6 hours time i'll be away at church camp for the weekend, then it's hasty packin and last minute tying up of loose ends before i catch the 10 pm bus on monday nite and off to pulau redang i go. i'm a very panicky person. always wanna plan ahead, write down a full schedule of my day's activities and stuff. but my frens have taught me (by sheer force) how to just relac and take things a step at a time. sometimes, it's alrite when things screw up. it's more fun to make changes spontaneously aniwae, innit?

so i reckon i'll still have time to pack my stuff for the camp like, tmr mornin. it's always nice to be action-packed i guess. but am lookin forward to more slackin and chillin when i get back with my girlies.

have a mighty fine blog idea brewin in the deep recesses of my grey matter. but i believe it'll be left for another day. in the meantime, here are some photos i took in hongkong. will post up the rest when i feel like it.

there's a weird bruise on my index finger. i hope it's not some leukaemia or flesh-eating bug shit. see, i'm such a worrywart.

tsing ma bridge & the evening sun 

lights lights 

me and mum 

city skyline 

harbour 

lost in hk 

kowloon 

pearl of the orient 

the Air that i Breathe

as pple get older, we're slowly but surely hardening ourselves. our minds start to fossilize and become impermeable. our souls crystallize into solid blocks of stubbornness and indifference. on the exterior, we may appear to fade and lose the vibrancy of youth. our bodies shrivel into dry wrinkled prunes of frailty. but certainly, the lines that make their tortuous ways on our skin are of an obstinate nature. not a sign of weakness. they declare to the world that we have seen and done more things than anyone of u out there. so don try to change me or tell me wat to do.

have u realised that our parents are always arguing over the same old issues? nothing new ever pops up innit. have u become weary of gettin to know new frens, having to make small talk and find out their life stories all over again? like, let's start when we were in kindergarten.. never mind. i'll just stick to the same old buddies i've known for half my life. suddenly ur body clocks sounds a silent alarm and u cease to react to novelty. newfangled rubbish, u say and sniff with contempt. the songs of yesteryears never sounded better. u could reminisce bout the same old stories during sec sch endlessly.

it's scary. u become a giant rock that doesn't budge an inch even when the world around u is evolving by the second. urging u to catch up with the chase. and funny thing is, u revel in ur inertia.

lately i've been of great fear. i fear the day when my parents pass away. when God comes to fetch them back to their places in heaven. suddenly, they've never looked older.

do u really know ur parents as individuals with dreams, secret hopes, and unique perspectives towards Life? perhaps we should bother to take time out to find that out for ourselves. i'd hate to think that after 30 odd years as a child livin off their boundless love, i never really knew who they were.

i still cry when i fear.