"And so it fizzles out, just like that. you open your prized Bollinger to find it flat, its bead gone, the once full flavour escaping the definitions of your connoisseur tastebuds, the liquid once eliciting an unashamed romp through sensations now nothing but unremarkable sparkling water off a supermarket shelf. an anti-climax of your bottled desire. you are trapped in a situation tinged with wasteful regret. an absurd tragedy unfolds with yourself as the reluctant protagonist. time, like a house of cards, collapses at that moment and traps you in a parody of self-constructed foolishness.


But there would always be another bottle. another time."


i wrote that the moment i got home last night, what it refers to you do not need to crack your head to figure out (i doubt you would anyway). yes i am still sore over my paper 3 grade, but not altogether beyond consolation and hope. colllecting the paper just before my exam was a bad mistake for with every word i wrote the abject disappointment seemed to reverberate ad nauseam. to cut the grandfather story short, it felt like fuck lah, the only piece of work i felt i put the most effort in turns out to be the most heart-breaking. but as with all other disappointments to have had the misopportunity to cross my path, i put it aside (and fancy i did quite a good job too).


But there would always be another (39) modules. the result of one term paper is scant vindication to my capability. i know that. and that is all that matters.


and yes, in light of my previous entries, i hope this entry justifies the fact that i am fully adept at constructing grammatical and coherent sentences not punctuated (and accentuated) with vulgarities. no dictionaries, thesauruses and excess brain cells were harmed in the production of this blog post. enjoy the holidays while they last!

i am now having an existentialist moment. ok that moment passed the moment i let out an earth-shattering fart. eh u know whats killing those birds in china, taiwan etc? clue: maybe its related to my 1st sentence, but you don't tell anyone hor? we keep it a secret ok? your name don't have to be Victoria to keep secret lah, although if you name Victoria and u reading this now, kindly tag me with your contact no and favourite (existential) position then we can have interactive discussion of my "essence" hor?


fuck i sound like a not-too-successful watermelon seller.


ok lah, i talk serious now, got plenty of time for watermelons, girls, and girls with watermelons later on (especially the last one), but now i talk serious ok because i'm a serious academic undergraduate. Existentialism is a philosophical movement that views human existence as having a set of underlying themes and characteristics, such as anxiety, dread, freedom, awareness of death, and consciousness of existing, that are primary. (sounds sibei cheem right? eh HELLO, i take that definition from wikipedia, sorry ah i dunno how to do footnote for blog, i make disclaimer firrst, later kena sue until i spend alot more existential moment in changi prison staring at chao bapok licking his lips at me)


if we are, using Heidegger's phrase, really "thrown" into the world we find ourselves in (macham doing jungle training without compass), how are we to find meaning (an "orientation" literally and metaphorically) in our lives? is there even a "meaning" to it beyond dreaming of girl selling (her) watermelons? happiness? anguish? ambivalence? are these not constructs of our emotional register? if our "meaning" in life is determined by a mosaic of such emotions intertwined together, and we create these emotions, do we not then create our own "meaning" to life as an independent entity?


existentialism appeals simply because it as an ideology offers a carte blanche for us to create our own fantasies (u want girl selling durian, also can), our own needs (watermelon can take and make watermelon cake, watermelon agar agar etc.) and fundamentally, our own destiny (eat too much watermelon wait u look like watermelon). basically, YOU create YOUR own life in the mould that YOU deem fit (u be called "king of watermelon" then everyone kowtow to you)


"existence precedes essence", quotes Sartre. think about it. it is the importance of living and not merely existing along the parameters of an "essence", (connoting a "pre-determinedness"). to me, watermelon si watermelon. beer si beer. and it is "pre-determined" that watermelon and beer cannot cham lest u lao sai bad bad. wah lao who want to lao sai bad bad i ask u? jessica alba got advertise watermelon tiger beer anot? don't have right? BUT BUT. . . if you want to be garang, defying the "rules" set in place by a pre-determined essence by mixing the 2, who's to say you're wrong? how can you be "wrong" against a not-explicit rule? not like must go 90km/h on singapore expressway because signboard say so


no one determines the "essence" of life for us. we construct it ourselves because we have the power to choose. We live. We breathe. We choose. the struggle is thus, not of high-order ideologies (like differentiation) that only people who got IQ above 140 can fathom, but a very basic one - in spite of the shackles of "essence", are you in control of your own destiny? you just dont be a muthafarker and skip NS can liao.

this post would probably ruffle a few feathers but i don't care. this post is about Melvyn Tan. i saw his pic today in The New Paper, wah i tell u he got this really "qian da" kinda smug faggot face, ya the kind i feel damn orgasmic after breaking his nose because i know deep inside my heart that i've done the world a favour. but since i'm an educared university undergrad who believes e penis, i mean, pen, is mightier than the sword, i shall blog about it.


to start off, i would like to pose this question: "are you proud that he's a Singaporean?" world-class renowned pianist. BIG MUTHA FARKING DEAL. let me kindly remind u that it was HIS OBLIGATION to serve his national service as a citizen of singapore whether or not he had one testicle or could give a good finger fuck to govt officials with those longer, slender fingers of his. his ability to pleasure a piano is thus SECONDARY to his role as a citizen


i am going to be very partisan on this. the issue here is not about a faggot with "golden balls" (as one of my men used to call "white horses" in the army) escaping national service. there is a larger issue here - one of our national defence which is not solely the responsibility of a couple of $1.20 beer guzzling SAF regulars. we hold the pink IC, we hold the red passport. we fight for our country. missing testicle or not. i will be absolutely blunt - i am extremely saddened to see the govt of the republic of singapore attaching a price of S$5000 to its national defence.


national defence is the responsibility of everyone, be it a straight 'A' scholar with telescopes for spectacles or your friendly neighbourhood pimp, chicken rice seller (uncle i say u in my blog u give me discount next time hor?) and ah long san. notice i said "everyone" and not "exclude those who can play piano". what the fuck i can play recorder damn zai, so does that mean i can skip NS because i'm a big fuck recorder player? ok lah i admit i dont have long slender fingers so cannot finger fuck well lah, but i play recorder leh, so i can blow well, like that got count not? KNN


to me, shim Melvyn is just plain selfish, to quote the words of my mom when i come home drunk "u think what, this [house] your hotel ah?" does the same not apply to (s)him? he decides one fine day he misses chicken rice and being escorted by SPG's in Orchard Towers and so decides happily to make a glorious return to his "homeland" ala Odysseus to his native Ithaca. PUI! too bad i can't do that in his face. u freeloader. you take advantage of your citizenship in s'pore and one day u come back like big hero, u think what? govt suppose to kowtow at your feet? even if they do, i will not. u break my leg also i wont. PUI! I SPIT AT YOUR FACE AGAIN BECAUSE I SHOIK. you selfish bastard. i hope you break your fucking fingers in the futile and herculean attempt to get your toothpick to erect.


it may sound old-fashioned, but i will state this loud and clear: i was born in this country, i was brought up in this country, i would probably start a family and have kids in this family, i would probably withdraw my CPF money to treat my liver failure in this country, and i sure as fucking hell would die in this country.


for your own sake sister, i hope i don't ever see you in person. you disgust me. i hope you burn in hell man, eh don't worry lah i'll be there with you along with the neighbourhood pimp (always try and make me see his vietnam girls), chicken rice seller (always put a buay tahan amount of MSG and bluff me say he use kampung chicken) and ah long san (always damn inconsiderate dont want to use washable paint on my door) too bad for u lah, got no piano.


sorry ah my past few posts have been damn dulan, i will try and turn over a new leaf soon k? but u all cannot dulan me and don't read my blog anymore k?

ok i'm feeling alot better now after a few games of quite brainless (well, not quite) Minesweeper Flags on MSN last night as well as a very satisfying one whole day of non-studying therapy today, and capped with some quite excellent claypot rice at kreta ayer food centre. . . i love that place man


i had a little argument with mom last night about (surprise surprise) exams. she told me straight to the face that i wasn't putting in enough effort because i told her i "fucked up my [elang] exam" (yes, i used those very same words). who are you to make such a deduction if i do not even see you for 5.5 days a week? what do YOU know about the effort i'm putting in? like seriously?


well it seems to me that you would never be satisfied with whatever results i get. honestly, if i had NEVER followed your advise to study at the table, have early nights etc. what in the world makes you think that i would start listening to you NOW? after it has got me all the way into *kowtows at the sound of the word* university? urgh can't you get the hint that i DO NOT like to be prodded with nonsensical questions about exams after i have taken the paper or to have to plonk my ass down on the chair in order to be an (un)willing audience to your great philosophical musings about the paper chase in s'pore. its like telling eskimos how to build igloos, what the hell do YOU know about it eh?


i was gonna blog last night, but decided against it because i felt i was still too "hot". and all the better, because i just came across this quote, which i would like to dedicate to you, mom:


Ask me to play, I'll play.
Ask me to shoot, I'll shoot.
Ask me to pass, I'll pass.
Steal. Block out.
Sacrifice. Lead. Dominate.
Anything.


But it's not what you ask of me.
It's what I want of myself.

I would just like to say that this is an actual exam question that i had to attempt during my exam today:


4(c): "An extra-terrestrial by the name of Alien has invaded your neighbourhood, causing massive destrcution, and is now approaching your house. You remember hearing from the news broadcast that the invader can only be destroyed by an electron beam. Using common household items, devise an electron beam to defend yourself. you have exactly 10 minutes."


And the second part starts with:

4(d): "Alien's half brother, Balien, has come to seek revenge over his half brother's demise. . . Balien challenges you to a duel. . ."


My answer: i would use a television set and turn it on when i see Mr. Alien approaching, hopefully there would be something damn exciting like hot kissing scenes from "The Bachelorette" or James Lye bearing his (fake) pecs in "VR Man". In both cases the desired effect is to get Mr. Alien hot, horny and bothered since there is no sign of a Mrs. Alien maruading the planet. (maybe James Lye comes close, but that's besides the point) when Mr Alien comes within striking distance, i would use a hammer and smash a small hole on the tv screen (note: it has to be one of those old and bulky tv screens, cannot use new plasma screen, not only would it not work, but i break the thing, damn heart pain lah) the high powered electrons coming from the cathode at a rate of 1/60th second would zap Mr Alien back to timbaktu. if all else fails, i would smash the tv screen over his head, save the world from destruction, and then try and see if i can claim the damages with my insurance company.


Dearest Dr. Parwani, i hope you're reading this blog entry, may u have a few laughs and give me full marks k? cuz i know my answer i gave u is nothing short of bullshit and lacks the creative ingenuity of what i had answered above. this is not a bribe, but surely a small price to pay for my efforts in saving the world?

wah super buay tahan, try watching soccer with your mom just beside you, damn patience-testing man. especially if you're watching s'pore-vietnam. here's why:


at kick off:
Mom: Is the field wet?
Me: dunno.
Mom: i think its wet, what do you think?
Me: . . .
IF YOU THINK ITS WET THAN ITS WET LAH, WHY DO U STILL HAVE TO ASK ME FOR MY OPINION EVEN THOUGH YOU'VE ALREADY DECIDED THAT ITS WET?!


after a foul
Mom: ouch.


after 15 min:
Mom: what colour is S'pore wearing?
Me: blue
Mom: why not red?
Me: *fighting back frustration* cuz the other team's wearing red?
Mom: oh.


after the 20th foul:
Mom: ouch. (for the 20th time)


after the offside trap was sprung
Mom: eh why he (the player) stop running?
Me: err.. (ever tried explaining the offside trap to someone clueless abt soccer? if so, you'd probably identify with my sentiments)


after Abu Cashmir comes on
Mom: why his hair like that? so ugly
Me: he like what. let him be lah
Mom: eee but its ugly!
OKIE FINE I UNDERSTAND HIS HAIR LOOKS LIKE A ROTTEN AND SMASHED UP PINEAPPLE ON HIS HEAD, BUT IF THATS HOW HE LIKES HIS HAIR THEN LEAVE HIM ALONE LAH!


after the umpeenth foul
Mom: ouch.

piercing issues that i find imperative to talk about because i've got nothing better to do:


1. i think tongue studs are as cool as my sanyo air-con, i've always wanted what its like kissing someone with a tongue stud, imagine that piece of (cold?) metal brushing against your own tongue, and the sound it makes against your teeth. pretty kinky eh? sadly i don't think the same can be said of bracers.


2. i think all gals should pierce their bellybutton, yeah its really quite a turning on. er gals with a beer belly are excluded from that rule. its just off. the stud would look erm suffocated and buried.


3. no one in the right frame of mind should pierce the inside of the ear (hello? doesn't it affect your hearing? helloo? u can't hear me?), and gals with thin eyebrows shouldn't pierce them because the piercing would look as though its dragging the whole eyebrow down like what "Titanic" Rose did to Jack (no wonders he let go in the end)


4. guys should not pierce their penises. full stop. how gross can u get? what if it gets ripped off by some freak accident of nature (ok fine, during sex)? that fella would be known as "the stud with the ripped-out stud". full stop again.


5. gals shouldn't get their nipples pierced because assuming they become mothers and have to breast-feed their children, they'll have to get a tongue piercing for their kid in order to stop making them crave for milk.


6. i want to get my nipples pierced.

RIP Eddie Guerrero (1967-2005)


The sad news that i woke up to yesterday morning was the death of Eddie Guerrero, an athlete, wrestler and more than that, a great entertainer to us all. you risked your body every time you stepped into the ring- just to keep us entertained; you showed to the public world your private struggle with alcoholism and painkillers. you were fearless in conquering your problems, and so much more. who could, and would, forget your feuds with Benoit, Mysterio, and perhaps more poignantly, with your own cousin Chavo, your frog splashes, or THAT ladder match against RVD. thank you for your sacrifice.


WWE would grief at your sudden demise, but even more so the millions of fans whom have followed your every move, myself included. "Lie, Cheat, Steal". Rest in Peace Latino Heat.

I took this off my How Technology Works IVLE forum, posted by my tutor, be warned though, it has to do with SCIENCE:


A Party of Famous Physicists


One day, all of the world's famous physicists decided to get together for a tea luncheon. Fortunately, the doorman was a grad student, and able to observe some of the guests:


* Everyone gravitated toward Newton, but he just kept moving around at a constant velocity and showed no reaction.
* Einstein thought it was a relatively good time.
* Coulomb got a real charge out of the whole thing.
* Ohm spent most of the time resisting Ampere's opinions on current events.
* Volt thought the social had a lot of potential.
* Heisenberg may or may not have been there.
* The Curies were there and just glowed the whole time.
* van der Waals forced himeself to mingle.
* Wien radiated a colourful personality.
* de Broglie mostly just stood in the corner and waved.
* Stefan and Boltzman got into some hot debates.
* Everyone was attracted to Tesla's magnetic personality.
* Bohr ate too much and got atomic ache.
* Watt turned out to be a powerful speaker.
* Hertz went back to the buffet table several times a minute.
* Faraday had quite a capacity for food.


You know you've been studying too hard if you found the above joke funny.

i am at the Central Library level 6 now. i think its highly ironic for it to be called a library because it seems pretty much like a circus to me. let me look around.


my friend (hi val, hope you're reading this hee) is sitting at my 10 o' clock, she's from NTU and she's supposed to be studying for her exams next week, but she's here and i haven't seen her flipping a single page for quite a while. Then there's this clown benjamin goh going around making people laugh. A couple of rows back, i see this dude playing FM 2006 (i want!) on his laptop and deciding whether to buy Vincent Kompany (he should). There's this mystery indian gal that suddenly sat beside me, took out her econs notes and started studying, i would have actually been impressed by her studiousness had she not decided to sleep for 5 min after every 10 minutes of studying. a couple of hours back i also recall seeing a particularly amorous couple who seems to be more intent at studying everything about the other person rather than the books in front of them.


which brings me to my friend xing jian, who's curled himself up into a little fur ball while scrutinising his sociology notes. i'm concerned at how studious he SEEMS to be, its getting so deceptive i almost think its real. so i put him to the test:


Me:"eh e library's a bloody circus"
XJ: "yeah lor"
Me: "this type of thing, you cannot resist one. resistance is futile"
XJ: *middle finger*


ah i knew it. i have successfully seen through his smoke screen. another pretentious mugger-wannabe unmasked. ok this is funny, he just came to borrow slippers from me to go to the toilet


xingjian if you're reading this don't kill me yea? this is just my form of revenge for u asking me to lug my heavy Nokia phone charger all the way to the library yesterday, only to realise that u found another one. what goes around comes around lah boy =) study hard!

its 510am and i just finished writing the first 1000 words of my paper 3 essay, for the THIRD time in TWO weeks this is getting plain annoying and infuriating. I've got another 5 days to wake up my idea and complete the essay (without any further changes to my thesis, i hope) but well i'm sure i'll live through it. What's writing a bloody essay compared to err.. charging up knolls in Pasir Laba?


but nevertheless, die paper 3 die die die DIE DIEEE.... if you were a voodoo doll there would be so many pins stuck in you that your intestines would be spilling out all over my room floor which i haven't mopped since the start of term (that would probably be a good reason for me to start mopping now)


btw i think i've got some quite weird people staying on my level, like just now i took a shower around 3am, after which i started brushing my teeth. within a space of 2 min, 2 other guys entered the toilet and started brushing their teeth also. it was pretty damn weird as we were all facing the same mirror and looking at one another. so ya. just plain weird i tell u.


oh hey its 530am already, i wonder what time i would wake up if i sleep now. good night.

my home PC's down because the CPU fan is spoilt, why must this happen on a weekend?! how does one survive without 2 days of FM and DOTA? why are the gods of studies testing me as thus? i'm not capitulating!! especially so since i didn't bring back any notes across the weekend (do u have any idea how heavy those files are?! ok not quite) i'm just trying to escape from my misery


i'm suddenly finding friendster quite fun to play with all over again wonder whether its possible to get my friendster list completely full (i.e. 500 ppl) am currently at 270. haha add me!! machiavellian84@yahoo.com lol


yes and after u do so, pls go back and study, don't wait for your CPU fan to be spoilt

what a holiday its been. wed night: queueing outside zouk for almost 2 hrs (and not even getting in in the end) was a tiring and hot experience, finally managed to get to china black instead with nicole, denise and her friends. damn not happening lah that place, totally surrounded by NS guys man, yea it really reminded me of those good ol' times during my stay-out period, clubbing 3 times a week lol. oh well, we all have to grow up, don't we?


every time i go china black i would always meet strange people, like this guy on wed who was trying to hit on my friend's friend (who admittedly, is quite hot). the thing was, he wasn't doing anything at all, she was dancing on the platform, and he was standing directly below (who doesn't dance to a 50 cent song man), and looking up at her like a cat preparing to jump for e french fry in the macdonalds adverrtisement. he was really weird lah, wearing this typical black plastic army specs, and (i suspect) fake oakley t-shirt TUCKED IN to his jeans. if i saw a guy like that bio-ing me in a club i'll be seriously freaked out too lah lol


so i made up this elaborate plan with her friends, that i would pretend to be a stranger, "chat her up" and leave together, right in front of him. the plan worked. but the blinking clown tried to follow us out persevered like he knew he was 3 steps away from solving rubik's cube by having the bloody nerve to cut in between me and her, then when he turned around and saw me, i pretended to give this damn annoyed look haha i think he got the hint.


i came back in abt 10 min later and saw him slumped over on a table over a mug of beer. poor fella..


went back home at about 530am, and my mom had to ledge the door, which can only be opened from the inside, so i bo pian, had to press doorbell. she woke up, opened the door, and immediately asked "what the hell are u doing home at this hour, i thought u were STUDYING in SCHOOL?


mustering all my smoke-out skills and eloquence as i might, my mom for some strange reason didn't buy my "but i been studying one whole day lehh give me a break" excuse so i got quite an earful that would probably stick in my head for all of 2 minutes. the idiot in the club must have been cursing me.


what's the other bastard thing i'm doing? i'm typing this entry as my grp members are rehearsing our presntation that's due to start in 15 min

Quote of the day courtesy of my MSN chat with Sheena:


"I am not an alcoholic; I'm just a social drinker; and I'm very sociable"


More than 1000 people have visited my blog, yayy! that's probably a milestone as my previous blog never hit such high viewership, but there again, I didn't visit my blog 200 times within 2 months to chalk up the numbers either. Oops.


I completed my paper 3 draft (like, finally). Think it is probably the single most un-inspired piece of writing I've done in uni thus far, it just didn't seem to make sense regardless of whether I read it backwards upside down or translated it to Latin or Yiddish. What would happen now? guess I'm just waiting for my ass to be grilled next monday during paper conferences.


J: "So Brandon, what do you think of your draft?"


Me: "I don't know. I just don't know."
those in my writing class would get the joke.