Love.

Dearest Celine,
Ever since I saw you my Smile spun dizzily. Even now, my heart throbs at the merest mention of your name. Your legs is the paragon of perfection, more beauteous than the graceful tiger. Each morning when I begin to photographing, I see your face before me, as vast as esplanade and my heart is wounded as if shot by a katana. Each day my passion for you grows like the mighty raintree. To share one kiss with you, I would cheerfully eat 12 pounds of celery. I would wait 4 3s to be with you. Meet me tonight at Ichiban so that I may stare into your lovely green eyes while we share Inari.

Dont ask.

Heart-attack.

Why Parents Have Gray Hair

A father passing by his son’s bedroom was astonished to see the bed
nicely made up and everything neat and tidy.

Then he saw an envelope propped up prominently on the pillow. It was
addressed, “Dad”. With the worst premonition, he opened the envelope
and read the letter with trembling hands:

Dear Dad,

It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m writing you. I had to
elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with
you and Mom.

I’ve been finding real passion with Joan and she is so
nice. I knew
you would not approve of her because of all her piercings, tattoos,
her tight motorcycle clothes and because she is so much older than I
am but it’s not only the passion, Dad, she’s pregnant.

Joan says that we are going to be very happy. She owns a trailer in
the woods and has a stack of firewood, enough for the whole winter.
We share a dream of having many more children.

Joan has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn’t really
hurt anyone. We’ll be growing it and trading it with the other
people in the commune for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want.

In the meantime, we’ll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS
so Joan can get better; she sure deserves it!

Don’t worry Dad, I’m 15 years old now and I know how to take care of
myself. Someday, I’m sure we’ll be back to visit so you can get to
know your grandchildren.

Your son, Chad

P.S. Dad, none of the above is true. I’m over at Tommy’s house. I
just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than
the report card that’s in my desk drawer.

I love you! Call when it is safe for me to come home!

Lifted from Jean's blog! Dun get so drunk nxt time rover.

Dance.

Watched the reality TV dance show "Dance floor" by mediacorp tonight.
Frankly, I observed that all the groups were very serious in their dancing. Unlike contestants on the Idol series. Perharps public opinion will be influenced by aquiantance level and personal taste. Some 'talent' contest huh.
But seriously. The contestants were let down by a frazzled director and bad syncing between technical crew. The awkwardness I felt when watching resulted from weird small pauses between the hosts and the music/commercials/cutting to the other cameras. Canned host scripts and funny audience cut scenes followed. I could tell that the director was certainly trying her/his best but that was some nervy directing.

Anyway, while watching the show with buddhist chanting from the funeral session held below my block, Platinum did it for me. Their chinese fusion was just phenomenal. With the modern strong dance at the 2nd part with the drums in the background. Sensational! It does help that it is an all-girl group. 6 of them to be precise.

Why is it that there will always one weird judge on such shows? Lets jus stick it to three! And please, 3 hosts just doesnt cut it.

Did i see a guy in a monkey suit amongst the audience?

Stoned.

I am lethargic, sleepy and bored.
Thats what a day spent at home results in.
And there is work tommorow! >.<

Opposites.

OH screw safari! Driving to work has always been a pain with the Adam rd stretch bottlenecking. A moving jam i would tell my father. Which is entirely contradictory as a jam means all cars are stuck with no hope of moving for every 5 mins. *Think Johore causeway*. Maybe i should change the term to *Snail express*.

Today office topic was on "We should make all girls serve Ns." Comments and suggestions were thrown about by the group's heated panelists which included 3 NSFs/1 Reservist/ 1 Female. Comments such as "They should be given a chance to EXPERIENCE NS." and "Don't stupid excuses like 'Childbirth is our NS!" were fired up. Overall, the disccusion was fairly one-sided with the female panelist smiling and laughing at the crude and chauvinistic suggestions. "But they have their monthly pains!" "Then can modify the BMT what!" Came the swift rebuttal. With that concluded, the topic was left as lunch time beckoned.

Regarding the age-old issue of "should girls serve NS?", and that meaning the complusory 2years and not signing on, i believe the existing system works fine as it is. After all, this issue goes way back to the 1960s since NS was introduced! Then again, whenever there are female sign-ons doing BMT. I am sure they feel like zoo exhibits when they were surrounded young, horny and desperate recruits trying to catch a glimpse of that bosum or legs that slide out of the black PT shorts. But kudos to the group of girls that were around during my BMT. They completed the damn 24klick with the chaps! lol.

The 'SAFO'(Serve And F*** Off) mentality exists in every batch of new 'chao' recruits while there are others that really believe in the SAF 7 core values. But NS really is an experience that nothing else can replace. Why? 'Because it is the SAF' *Sing-a-long tune*

There are only two kinds of people in this world; those who like to watch whales and those who prefer to eat them.

Apology.

I must apologize. The entries are coming in too slow i admit. It seems to reflect the situation at work. Where stories are coming in too slow for my editor. Next in the waiting list are graphic artists who have to wait for the text/story to fit in the current layout. Two words to sum up everything. "Free-time".
Which isnt bad really. Just that when the text/story comes in, everybody will be looking at the graphic artists to finish the magazine for deadline Hey. It isnt all play and no work. Just lots of play and Hi-pressured fast work.
Just as well. Judging from all the reactions i get about my posting, i dont really expect any form of respect anyway. After all, i am serving my country.

In a really warped, slack, relaxed way. Now thats the RIGHT way of serving your country. With my rifle and my buddy and MEeeEE!

Reality.

***QUESTION***

I happen to get two best female friends. How do I
choose one?

>>>MY COMMENTS:

Pick the one with the most money.

Tremor.

Omg. I just felt the tremor. Did you guys feel it?
I just felt my chair move left to right while on my computer. Here i was thinking, "Eh? I am not shaking what. *looks down at legs* Shit. Tremor." It only lasted for a few seconds though. Scary enough. Just like throwing the grenade or being in the Discovery Centre Disaster Room.
I just pray for the poor souls at ground zero.